A/N: Hello, it's me. Your friendly neighborhood tool. B)
Just want to say thanks to everyone who flailed in the reviews or in my PM or on tumblr (xandylytex for those of you following along at home) about the update! I'm glad so many of you are still excited for this story and for my writing and especially for Brittana. You guys are the real MVPs!
As usual, shout-out to all my fanfiction writer friends; even though yinz are on different ships now, or haven't written in a while, I still snuggle all of you close to my heart like a creepy obsessed fangirl clutching her favorite plushie. 8)~
Okay I guess that's all for now. Brittana Forever! :D
Mike and Brittany finish laying the new deck late into the second day of construction. It's nowhere near finished- the wood still needs to be sanded and sealed- but at least there's no longer a giant, gaping hole in the ship. As Brittany wipes sweat from her brow, she can't help feeling proud of all the hard work she's done in just two days. The new deck is tangible proof that she accomplished something- something she would have never imagined herself capable of producing.
She's noticed she's become physically stronger over the course of her time with the pirates, and though her hands have developed callouses, she's glad she's able to fix the damage she caused. She knows the reason for the repairs is her fault in the first place, but she goes to bed that night exhausted and content with her accomplishments. Day by day, her achievements and skills are adding up.
The third day of construction is a relatively easy day for her. She and Mike spend the morning spreading a black, sticky substance over the seams of the wooden planks to fill in any cracks and preserve the watertight integrity of the ship. The goo smells awful and is hard to work with because of its tacky consistency, and she spends the better part of an hour scrubbing it from her wrists and elbows once she finishes with it. After it's spread, Mike lets her have the rest of the day to herself because they must wait for the goo to dry before they can sand it.
With so much sudden free time, Brittany wishes she could offer her assistance to Burt, who's spent the past three days repairing the cracked mast and replacing the ruined deck rails and other random casualties with his team, but she knows she would only get in his way. He doesn't seem as patient as Mike is with her, and she'd rather not get on anyone else's bad side. Instead, relieved for the break from the hard manual labor she's unfortunately been growing accustomed to, she makes herself a light snack from the deserted galley, leaves a small treat of food out for Lord (just in case the rats are scarce), and retreats to her tavern room to relax for a few hours before she has dinner with Kurt.
She's reading a book Matt had loaned her about fishing and trying not to wonder what Santana's been doing the last three days when there's a mysterious knock on her door. She rises to answer it cheerfully, fully expecting to see Kurt, and instead she finds Sugar, looking frazzled and balancing an armful of different sized bottles in an array of colors and shapes against her chest.
"Hello," Brittany greets, unsure what else to say in response to the unexpected sight before her.
"Britt," Sugar says anxiously, pushing towards her, the bottles clinking against each other from her movement, "I need your help."
Stunned, Brittany steps back to allow Sugar entrance to her room. She hadn't seen Sugar since they'd ported three days ago; she had assumed Kurt had booked her a separate room, but if she was being honest with herself, she'd been so exhausted lately she hadn't really considered otherwise.
Once Sugar rebalances her armful, Brittany offers a tired smile. Truthfully, she was on the edge of sleep when Sugar interrupted her, but she can't turn away her dearest friend. "What do you need assistance with?"
"I need you to bring these," Sugar lifts the bottles a little to indicate, making them clink again, "to Master Santana."
Brittany freezes, both from the thought of possibly seeing Santana and at the familiar, casual way Sugar says her name. How does Sugar know her so well? What has she been doing? Is that why Brittany hasn't seen her? Her gut twists, and her mouth suddenly feels dry.
As if unaware of Brittany's sudden change of mood, Sugar continues, "I normally attend to all of her needs, but Kurt has asked me to run an important errand to the market, and the shop closes in less than half the hour from now, so I need to hurry. Do you mind doing me this favor?"
Brittany swallows hard, trying to ignore the swooping, sick feeling that's suddenly come over her. She has no idea why her stomach feels as if she just ate a dozen tiny serpents or where the feeling came from, but she forces a smile and says, "It would be my pleasure to help you."
Looking appropriately grateful, Sugar smiles, setting the bottles on Brittany's dresser. "Thank you, Britt. Master Santana stays one floor above; bring these to the fifth door on the right." She leans in for a quick hug and kisses Brittany's cheek fondly. "I must depart now if I'm to make the market on time."
Absently, Brittany nods, barely noticing as Sugar sweeps out of the room, shutting the door quickly behind her. She's too caught up in her thoughts, and hearing an echo of Sugars words:
I normally attend to all of her needs.
What needs could Santana have? Why does the thought sicken her so? Why is she so upset over it, when she knows Sugar is simply performing duties for Santana the way she used to for Brittany-
And that's when it hits her: she's jealous.
But is she jealous of Santana? Or Sugar?
Shaking her head, she tries to ignore her stormy thoughts and gathers the bottles into her arms. It proves challenging for her to juggle them all and still close the door to her room as she exits, but she manages, then carefully climbs the worn, wooden, creaking staircase one floor higher.
She's surprised that the floor above is seemingly in much better repair- though still gives off the appearance of ancient decay and could certainly benefit from a lot of restoration work. But, Brittany notices, there's plush, crimson red carpet beneath her boots as she walks, counting the worn bronze door handles as she goes.
When she reaches the fifth one, she takes a deep breath. This door is wider and more ornate than the others, and it makes Brittany's stomach tense with nervous anxiety. It's highly likely that Santana will be on the other side of the door, and Brittany hasn't seen the woman since the night before they landed in Phiny, days ago. They had parted on uncertain terms, and though Santana had tolerated her presence that night, she had not forgiven her, and Brittany's ashamedly a little excited- but mostly scared- to face her again.
She reaches for the door handle, balancing the bottles, and pushes the heavy, dark wooden door open, stepping inside. She looks around, taking in her surroundings; the room is a large square room, mostly empty except for one large bathing pool that's sunk into the floor. Brittany wonders at the construction of such a room, considering its location on the third floor, but admires the floral decor in the corners, and the lighted candles giving off a calm, almost romantic glow.
And then a splash draws her attention to the large bathing pool, and it occurs to her that she should have knocked first, because Santana is currently in the center of the pool-
Naked.
Brittany averts her eyes immediately. She thought Santana naked in her presence once before and had been mistaken, but now there's no denying her nakedness, because who would bathe with clothes on? At the thought, her palms begin sweating, her cheeks heating. She struggles not to imagine what Santana looks like in the large pool, her tan skin glistening with drops of water, and she swallows thickly, squeezing her eyes shut, unsure why her mind is betraying her. Her flustered state causes her to jostle the bottles in her arms, and she panics, knowing the sound must have gained Santana's attention, and Brittany's certain that Santana will kill her for sure this time for such an intrusion; oh, why didn't she just knock?
As Brittany stands in the entryway of the room awaiting her definite demise, Santana is reminded once again that she's memorized Brittany's footsteps; she knew the second Brittany entered the room that she was not Sugar. She stares at the girl, who is visibly shaking with dread, and Santana can't help wanting to have a little fun and make her sweat a bit more.
"You... Why are you here?"
Brittany gulps, then stammers out, "Sugar, she- she sent me in her place-"
"Why?" Santana demands. Brittany's staring at the stone-tiled floor and can't see her smirk. She straightens her expression and adds, "Stop speaking with the floor."
Brittany looks up, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, her cheeks burning. "Kurt needed her for an errand- she said the market was going to close-"
"I see." Santana pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Do you liken me to Medusa?"
"What?" Brittany's flustered expression drops into one of innocent confusion, her eyebrows furrowing.
"Why are your eyes closed? Do you think me about to turn you to stone?"
Brittany shivers, making the bottles clink treacherously. "N-no-"
"Then open your eyes, Songbird. How do you expect to deliver your possessions without sight?" Santana snaps.
Brittany's mouth feels like she swallowed some of the sticky black goo she'd spent all morning spreading on the new deck planks. Santana is naked and wet, and she expects Brittany to look upon her in such a compromising position? Reluctantly, though, she forces her eyes open, fighting the blush that's flared up again at the sight of Santana perched delicately in the pool, naked, her breasts on full display. The water reaches only to her hips, just barely covering the shadow at the cleft of her thighs. Brittany's sure she's never seen anything so breathtakingly beautiful.
Santana is not the first or only woman Brittany's seen naked, but she's the only one Brittany's felt a sudden stirring deep in her abdomen from the sight of their naked body. She struggles to keep her eyes on Santana's face, determined not to avert her eyes and offend the woman before her. Santana reaches her hand out expectantly, and Brittany steps forward to meet her at the edge of the water.
Slowly, Brittany hands Santana the bottles, one by one, and the pirate sets them on a tiny shelf inside the pool wall. On the last bottle, which is round and lavender-hued, their eyes meet; Brittany's heart pounds, the stirring in her stomach growing stronger. Santana's fingers brush hers as they slip around the bottle, and then the pirate woman does something unexpected- instead of taking the bottle, Santana grabs Brittany's hand.
Brittany nearly drops the lavender bottle and struggles to breathe, her chest feeling tight. Is she having a heart attack? She feels lost, swirling in the depths of Santana's dark brown eyes. In her peripheral vision she swears she sees Santana's tongue dart out to lick her lips-
Santana bites her lip, struggling not to give in to her desires. She's seconds away from pulling the blonde down towards her, kissing her senseless and tugging her into the water, then pressing her to the wall of the bathing pool-
She sucks in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment to break the intense contact and regain control of her senses, which Brittany is currently overwhelming. When she opens them, she feels more in control of herself, and she sends the blonde a predatory look. "Would you like to join me?"
Brittany's eyes widen in shock, her breathing picking up. "Uh- I-" her voice wobbles, and she tries to clear her throat. "I'm sorry? Uh-"
Their eyes meet again, and Santana slowly, deliberately licks her lips, taking pleasure in the way Brittany's eyes follow the movement, in the way the girl's mouth drops open slightly, the way her eyes darken-
Santana smirks, loving the control she has over Brittany. She releases her hand, slipping back and letting herself sink lower into the water. "Very well," she says. "Thank you for your assistance. You may leave."
Swaying slightly, Brittany stumbles out of the room as fast as she can without being rude, closing the door behind her; she nearly flies down the stairs to her room, her head spinning with too many thoughts, her stomach flipping with too many feelings, and her eyes replaying too many images.
Santana bursts into the galley first thing the next morning to find Kurt. He doesn't bother to look up as she enters dramatically, instead remaining focused on the vegetables he's chopping up for a soup.
"Do you think yourself funny?" Santana demands angrily, her fists clenched at her sides.
Kurt continues chopping. "Hilarious, actually. Though I doubt you're here to discuss my sense of humor; I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You sent Brittany to my bath last night," Santana accuses. "Are you touched in the head?"
Kurt finally turns to blink at Santana. "You have Sugar to attend to your ridiculous needs-"
"And you sent her on an errand!"
"And are you so incapable of obtaining your own bath supplies?" Kurt rolls his eyes. He can't believe they are seriously having such a conversation.
"I didn't know you had sent Sugar on errand."
"Well, my apologies, Satan," Kurt shrugs nonchalantly, turning back to his vegetables. "Next time I'll be sure to send you an update, so as to spare your feelings some mild discomfort. Do you prefer dove? Smoke signal? Or should I send Brittany as a messenger-"
"Why do you do this to me?" Santana laments. "Do you like watching me suffer?"
"Oh, please," Kurt chuckles. "I highly doubt suffering is what you're doing. Must you be so dramatic?" At Santana's silence, he sighs. "Santana, you have to get used to being around her. She's not going anywhere any time soon. You having interactions with her is a good thing, it builds camaraderie-"
"And at what cost? Would you dangle a pig before a hungry lion?" Santana demands angrily.
Kurt raises a teasing eyebrow, side-eyeing Santana. "Are you calling Brittany a pig?"
"She might as well be, with how badly I want to devour her!"
Kurt winces, looking disgusted. "Okay, that's really too much infor-"
Santana sighs loudly. "Kurt, this is serious! What am I to do?"
Finally setting his knife down, Kurt turns to regard Santana, wiping his hands on his apron. After a moment, he suggests, "Why don't you court her?"
"She's your property," Santana balks at the idea.
"She's not my property, Santana," Kurt says with another roll of his eyes. "I only say that because it's the only thing the others will respect."
Santana frowns. "They're not like that-"
Kurt raises a doubtful eyebrow. "You heard them at that meeting. And you asked me to put a lock on her door."
"Fair enough. But they're not all animals."
He smiles patiently. "And neither are you, yet..."
Santana clenches her jaw, angry that Kurt is right. She doesn't know why the blonde makes her feel so out of control. She's never experienced an attraction as powerful as the one she has to Brittany before. She wishes she could just be rid of the constant feeling of having to restrain herself, but the only way she can is to get rid of Brittany, or…
"Just tell me she's off limits, Kurt."
Kurt shakes his head. "That would hurt her. She wants very badly to be your friend, Santana."
"Friend?!" Santana laughs harshly. "I want more than friendship-"
"To start."
Santana releases a frustrated growl. "What if I don't want to be... friends?"
"Why ever not?"
Santana swallows. She doesn't want to admit to Kurt how she feels, but she needs him on her side. In a rare moment of honesty, she allows, "Because I'm not sure I trust myself around her."
Kurt chuckles. "Well, I'm not sure I trust you around her either after what you've just confided, but I'm giving you permission to try and befriend her."
"Why would I even want to?" Santana sighs.
"Because she's nice. She's loyal. She's funny and pleasant to be around. Why would you not? And before you answer that with her making a mistake-"
"A mistake that could've cost us everything-"
"Keep in mind that she's apologized profusely and that she's worked extremely hard, long days the entire time we've been in port to fix the damage she caused," Kurt dismisses, angry. "And if you don't believe me, take a walk along the deck."
She does.
After Kurt made it clear he no longer wanted to discuss her Brittany problem, Santana had no choice but to follow Kurt's advice. On her way off the ship, she pauses on the main deck to inspect the newly-installed section, and she's greeted with the sight of Brittany, on her knees, her shirt soaked with sweat already from the morning sun. She's bent over a block of stone, using it in combination with sand to smooth the rough wood. Santana knows firsthand how strenuous the work is- she did some of it as a young Cabin Boy, but not nearly in the amount that Brittany's currently doing.
She knows that after the sanding, Brittany still has to apply varnish to seal the planks and preserve their longevity and watertightness. The sight of the newly-laid deck makes her feel something, knowing that Brittany put her heart and soul into fixing it- and it shows. The new deck looks better than the old one ever did, even when it was new, and truthfully, the old one needed to be repaired anyway, so Santana's not sure why she's been holding on to her anger over its destruction for so long. She sighs, covering her eyes, finally allowing herself to let go of her misgivings. She can't deny the blonde any longer, and she doesn't really want to, anyways.
As if hearing her thoughts, Brittany pauses in her task to wipe sweat from her brow, and she looks up. Their eyes meet; Brittany's gaze is hopeful and nervous at the same time, and it makes Santana's chest feel tight, her heartbeat faltering at the sight of blue eyes.
Her mind made up, she heads back to her room to dwell on where to go from here. She has no idea what friendship with a girl means.
"Are you certain the Sea Bears didn't put a hit out on you?"
"Yes, I'm fuckin' sure, Dia," David growls playfully. "But if you're feeling like a meater about it, you can stay home, maybe get a foot massage, or-"
"Shut your sauce-box, moron," Santana mumbles, shoving him. "You know I've got you covered."
"Always," David nods.
They had already traded all of the platinum they'd pirated with their buyer from the notorious bandit gang, the Sea Bears. Now they just needed to take the gold they'd acquired from the trade and exchange it into currency they could actually buy merchandise and supplies with. David had already alerted his specialty contact of the amount he'd need to exchange, so that the merchant would actually have the amount on hand. It was the first of two separate exchanges they were to complete that day, the second one occurring later that night.
Santana was unconcerned for the exchange; they'd done business with the merchant, Ken, an old, gritty man who was part of the Ma Empire before it was conquered by Lao, many times in the past. Although a downy fellow, he had never given them reason to believe he'd double-cross them- it was in his best interest to continue to do business with them, anyways.
It was the time after the exchange, when they were both loaded down with an ungodly amount of money, that Santana was worried about taking a hit from the Sea Bears. After all, the gang knew personally how much money the two of them would be toting around. They weren't exactly easy targets, but carrying so much money, even hidden, made them vulnerable, and they needed to move quickly and be very aware of their surroundings as they returned to the ship.
They walk through the market, making themselves harder targets bordered by so many people. Santana scans the shop fronts, searching for any signs of an impending ambush, when her eyes catch on a small display of baked goods, and her mind races with ideas. She recalls Brittany's words from the night on the ship, and on a whim, she walks into the bakery.
"What the," David starts at her sudden departure. "Where the fuck are you-"
"I'll be right back," Santana calls over her shoulder, and David glares after her.
"Oh, fuckin' fine- just leave me standin' out here like a big ol' fuckin' target-"
Once inside the bakery, Santana scans the display of sweets for what she's looking for. Her eyes move past cookies, sweet rolls, breads, tiny decorated cakes, and stop on the pastries. She checks them out critically, unimpressed, until the shop owner takes notice and questions her. She makes her request, and when the baker nods in response, she feels a nervous excitement buzz through her at the thought of actually doing something nice for Brittany. She waits a few minutes while he fills her request, and when he comes back, he places a small homemade paper sack in her hand. She peeks inside to verify; the pastry she requested looks perfect, better than she imagined it. She smiles a little, imagining Brittany's face when she gives it to her, and then reaches into her coin purse to procure payment for the baker.
Once she leaves the shop, she finds David standing outside, sweating and looking anxiously around. "Well, it's about fuckin' time," he huffs loudly once he spots her, striding to her side, and they seamlessly fall into step together, making their way down the street again. "Thought you were just gonna leave me out here to get merc'd, and-" he pauses when he spies the paper bag she's holding. "What in blazes is that?"
"The fuck does it look like?" she asks casually, without looking at him. They continue moving without interruption, as if they are having a pleasant conversation.
"Funny; since when do you eat that shit?"
"It's not for me."
It takes a second, and then David laughs. "Oh, no!"
"What?" Santana asks, sparing him a sideway glance.
"I never thought I'd see the day!"
"The sun comes up every morning…"
David turns to look at her, walking sideways for a few paces to engage her. "It's for that slave girl, isn't it?" he accuses. At Santana's ensuing silence, he laughs incredulously. "Are you shittin' me? Why?"
Santana shrugs. "Kurt says she's been toiling hard, I thought-"
"I was worried she'd get attached after you took it," David shakes his head, "but it's you-"
"I haven't taken anything," Santana mumbles.
David gawks at her. "You still haven't fucked her? Dia- I thought we-"
"I can't do it," she growls.
"Obviously," he laughs. "So, what- you're courting her now?"
"Does it matter so much?" She snaps, wondering why everyone is so up in her business- and why it has to be about courting. Is she the only one living in the current time period?
"Hey, lay off; it's me," David reassures, hands up. "I'm just joshin' with you. Do what you want."
"I will."
David raises a questioning eyebrow, letting Santana know that he doesn't buy her attitude. After a moment of silence, Santana finally gives in, sighing.
"Sorry," she murmurs. "I just-"
"I know you're defensive," David says gently. "Real feelings?"
Santana chews her lip nervously. She hates talking about feelings, and she's been doing it a lot lately. "I don't know."
"Well I guess this is a start to figuring it out."
Santana looks down at the paper bag in her hand. "Yeah, I guess it is."
It had been a long day.
Brittany had been hunched over the sanding block, finishing up the deck, for most of the morning. Then she'd worked through lunch to get the sand swept off the deck, and after a good swabbing, she'd helped Mike spread the varnish so it would have time to dry overnight. It hadn't been easy, but they'd finished the repairs on schedule, and everything was ready to go for tomorrow's departure. She still has no idea where they are supposedly departing to, but she knows she did her part and reversed all of the damage she'd done; so even though every muscle in her body aches and she's more tired than she can ever remember being in her entire life, she's proud of herself.
She'd just finished bathing and stands in front of the vanity brushing the tangles out of her damp blonde hair when a sharp knock at the door startles her. She wonders if she's late for dinner with Kurt, but a glance at the small pendulum clock on her dresser reveals she still has plenty of time. Could it be Sugar with another favor to ask of her? She chews her lip nervously; she certainly hopes not. She wouldn't exactly consider her last fulfillment of a favor successful in the slightest. She still hasn't stopped thinking about Santana, drops of water rolling down her smooth, tan skin-
She sets her brush down and grasps the handle of her door, tugging it open and, as if Brittany dreamed her into life, Santana stands in the doorway, dressed in her casual clothes. Brittany's simultaneously relieved and disappointed that Santana is wearing clothes; two very confusing emotions.
"Quartermaster," Brittany blurts, her stomach fluttering with nerves at the sight of Santana, awkwardly poised in the doorway. The pirate is so close, her clean, pleasant smell makes Brittany's insides feel as if they are painlessly dissolving.
"Brittany," Santana states. She takes a confident step as if to enter, as if it's her entitled right; then, as if remembering she's trying to befriend Brittany, not dominate her, she pauses, unsure. "May I come in?"
"Yes," Brittany nods, but doesn't make any indication to move. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Brittany becomes aware of the fact that they haven't moved and hastily stands aside to allow Santana to enter her room.
"You must be wondering why I've come to call," Santana declares after a moment, gazing around the room at anything but Brittany and finding a stray thread on her blanket extremely fascinating. Brittany wonders if the pirate is as nervous as she is; she certainly seems like it. She's fidgeting.
"Yes," Brittany says again, still unsure if Santana standing in her room is really happening or if she fell asleep brushing her hair and is currently dreaming. Her stomach flips, and she sincerely hopes Santana is not there to talk about what happened yesterday in the bathing pool.
Santana finally looks at Brittany. "I brought you something." She thrusts her left hand out, and in it she holds a small paper bag that Brittany hadn't noticed she'd been carrying. Her expression looks challenging and pleading at the same time, as if she's politely commanding Brittany to accept, and Brittany has no choice but to take the bag from her.
Carefully, Brittany opens the bag under Santana's intense gaze and discovers a strawberry pastry. Her mouth falls open a little before she covers it with her hand in surprise, eyes widening as she realizes- she remembered. A smile larger than Santana's ever seen splits her face beneath her hand, and Santana's heart pounds from the sight, from the knowledge that she's the cause of something so beautiful. "This is… for me?"
"I thought... Well, your hard work is truly appreciated," Santana starts awkwardly, uncertainly, not sure how to be soft and kind to Brittany, and she's torn, so used to having her guard up. She brushes the gift off as insignificant, unwilling to admit she had been paying attention to Brittany that night on the ship. "And you deserved something sweet."
Brittany examines the pastry, holds it as if it's a priceless historical artifact. It looks fresh, as if the baker pulled it out of the oven just for her. The strawberries are deep red and plump, and they make Brittany's mouth water slightly; it's been so very long since she's had anything sweet, and the thin stripes of white icing beckon to her. Knowing she mustn't be rude by consuming the pastry in front of company, however, she sets the bag gently on her dresser, then looks up at Santana, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you so much."
Santana shrugs awkwardly, looking, Brittany thinks, slightly embarrassed. The thought of the pirate feeling shy around her fills Brittany with an unknown joy. She wonders what compelled Santana to do something so nice for her, and can't help remembering how they parted the last time they saw each other. Curious, she asks, "Does this mean you forgive me, Quartermaster?"
"Yes," Santana answers, catching Brittany's gaze. She pauses, biting her lip hesitantly. "Call me Santana," she says quickly.
Brittany smiles. "Aye-aye, Santana."
Santana's stomach flips at the way Brittany says her name, but she ignores the annoyance that usually accompanies her feelings of powerlessness around Brittany. Instead, she allows herself to enjoy the moment, and the pleasure of making Brittany smile. She studies the blonde's face, mapping over the light spattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, gazing deep into bright, delighted blue eyes, tracing the outline of her full, pink lips.
Santana swallows as she realizes Brittany's doing the same to her. She feels a sudden pull towards the blonde- one that she's grown tired of resisting. Would it really be so bad just to give in? She knows desire when she sees it in a girl's eyes, and Brittany is no different, not with the way she's looking at her.
Would it really be so bad?
Fuck it. She's a pirate. She takes what she wants and no questions asked. Right? Right. But then why-
Brittany stares at her lips, and the pirate makes up her mind.
Fuck it.
Santana leans forward slowly, testing to see if Brittany will pull away from her, if Brittany will resist. Their lips brush, and Santana can feel Brittany's sharp intake of breath. She waits a moment, feeling overwhelmed by Brittany's scent, to give Brittany a chance to resist, to say no. When she doesn't, Santana closes the gap between them and presses her lips to Brittany's, tilting her head into the kiss. Her heartbeat accelerates, her stomach tightens. Brittany's lips are the softest she's ever kissed, and she doesn't know how that's possible. Almost automatically, she reaches up to cup Brittany's face and pull her closer. She takes the kiss deeper, opening her mouth, and her pulse throbs as Brittany lets her; she feels Brittany grab a fistful of her shirt, holding her near, and she presses closer, seeking the heat of Brittany's body, her fingers slipping into soft, blonde hair-
And then suddenly Brittany's pulling away, breaking the kiss. Santana barely has time to slow the pounding of her heart or register her surroundings before the blonde's palm is connecting with her face.
The slap doesn't hurt, but the sting snaps her back into control, back into awareness. Brittany gasps a little, still out of breath, looking wide-eyed and appropriately horrified at what she just did.
Did she just earn herself a death sentence?
Too stunned to move, Santana just stares, mouth open, panting, as Brittany takes a step back, struggling to catch her breath. They regard each other carefully; Santana notes with sly pride that Brittany's blushing fiercely and her blue eyes are darker than she's ever seen them. Brittany searches for something to say in her tangled mind, but is spared when Santana wordlessly exits her room, leaving her with her conflicted thoughts and emotions.
As she strolls down the hallway, Santana rubs her cheek a little, her lips still tingling. She may have just fucked up all of her chances at friendship, but she does know one thing-
Brittany kissed her back.
She's dead. She's so dead.
She might as well just jump off of The Tide Ripper into the tumultuous ocean and take care of ending her life herself.
What was she thinking?
Brittany covers her face with her hands, sinking down onto the edge of her bed. She wasn't thinking- that's the problem. She must have set some sort of new record for single-handedly managing to gain and destroy a friendship in the least amount of time.
"I'm so stupid," Brittany mumbles, berating herself. She's not even sure why she struck Santana- certainly she was shocked and confused at the act of Santana kissing her. But it wasn't an unpleasant feeling; her pulse is still pounding and her senses still reeling from having the pirate so close. And the unfamiliar stirring in her stomach had returned, stronger than ever. Why does the pirate thrill her so?
Certainly, the woman is attractive by anyone's standards, but that shouldn't be a factor to Brittany- she's also a woman, and shouldn't be charmed by the pirate's perfect, toned body, tan, smooth skin, dark brown eyes and full, plump lips-
Slowly, she closes her eyes and traces her fingertips along her lips, remembering the way Santana felt against them moments ago. She's never been kissed like that before. And definitely not by another woman!
Is that why Brittany was so surprised?
She shivers, feeling conflicting feelings of elation and devastation. She's reasonably certain that she's ruined any chance of being Santana's friend, and the woman will never speak to her again.
But she kissed her-
Brittany sighs, and her eyes fall to the strawberry pastry perched on her dresser. She bites her lip, recalling Santana's sweet face as she presented it to her. She feels like crying, but her body is still too wound up to do anything other than sit in shock.
After several more minutes of silent agony arguing with herself, Brittany realizes it's just about time for her to meet Kurt for dinner. She pauses to collect the strawberry pastry, then makes her way downstairs to the tavern to find Kurt.
He'll know what to do. He always does.
"You look like Lord after he's caught a rat," Kurt calls in greeting as Brittany reaches the bottom of the stairs. He grins mischievously, and Brittany feels a blush creeping across her cheeks. She wonders what Kurt knows; but before she can ask or say anything in response, he leads her to their usual table, where their usual Busty Blonde server immediately descends upon them, giving Brittany her usual death stare.
"What's that?" Kurt asks, pointing, and Brittany realizes she's still holding the strawberry pastry Santana had given her. Obediently, she reaches into the paper bag, presenting the pastry to Kurt, whose eyes widen.
"Wow!" he states, admiring the craft of the pastry with awe. "Where did you get that?"
Brittany feels her blush deepening over Kurt's attention. "Santana gave it to me," she says shyly, almost sadly, remembering how she messed up again. She's supposed to be winning the pirates back, not alienating them further!
"Santana, eh?" Kurt teases. When Brittany doesn't respond the way he expected, his expression and tone turn suddenly serious. "Are you all right? She didn't hurt you did she?"
"No…" Brittany hesitates, unsure how to tell Kurt that she hurt Santana. "She…"
"What?"
"She- she kissed me, Kurt."
Kurt leans back in surprise, his eyes widening. He says nothing for a moment, studying Brittany's face, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Then, he asks, "Are you all right?"
Brittany nods. "Yes, but- I was so surprised that I- I slapped her after, and I'm so upset because I honestly wanted to be her friend but now I've gone and ruined it and she's probably going to kill me the next time she sees me, and-"
"Shh, honey," Kurt says, patting his hand in the air in a calming motion towards her. "Brittany, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, all right?"
Brittany furrows her eyebrows, half-expecting Scrap to burst into the tavern at any moment and behead her. "All right?"
"But you belong to me. You are technically, according to our laws, my property. Now, I don't treat you as such, obviously," he gestures to the tavern, and Brittany's inadvertently reminded of how much she feels she still owes him and a feeling of guilt sweeps over her, "but I'm telling you this because no one has the right to touch you without my permission. Which, because I view you as a person and not actually my property, is your permission. Slave or not, you are still free to make your own choices, and if Santana kisses you and you don't want it, you have the right to tell her no, or," he chuckles slightly, "to slap her if she's out of line."
Brittany forces a smile, still regretting having ruined her friendship with Santana. She's truly touched by Kurt's continued reassurances of her safety, but she hates the thought of having to rely on Kurt. She supposes she will have to until she earns her freedom- whenever that will be. She doesn't know how far her latest slip has set her back, but she knows someday she will reach her goal.
"Do you think Santana and I can still be friends?"
Kurt stares at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. When he speaks, it's not the answer she was hoping for. "I think you should give her some space for a while." At Brittany's sad nod of understanding, he adds, "Just remember: no one can make you do anything you don't want. Not even Santana."
Their food chooses that moment to arrive, and Busty Blonde fawns over Kurt for a few nauseating moments while Brittany's thoughts swirl. She replays her conversation with Kurt from moments earlier, his words echoing.
If Santana kisses you and you don't want it…
But she does, a small part of her mind whispers. She does want it.
Santana's not surprised when Kurt bursts through her door later that evening, long after she'd accompanied David on his second currency exchange. She'd been expecting it after her earlier meeting with Brittany. "Well, hello, Pony, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"I told you to go slow!" Kurt exclaims, his voice rising.
"I thought I was."
Kurt looks baffled. "No."
"Well, what was I supposed to do, then?" Santana demands, running her hand through her hair in frustration.
"Not kiss her!" Kurt shrills. "All you've done is confuse the hell out of her!" Santana bites her lip, remembering the sweet taste of Brittany's hot mouth, of the way her fist felt clenched in her shirt, of-
"Are you even listening?" Kurt demands.
No. "Yes." Santana nods, and Kurt eyes her suspiciously. "Look, you said I could court her-"
"That involves steps, Satan! You didn't even take her out first-"
"Out where? Outside?" Santana wonders.
"No!" Kurt throws his hands up in exasperation. "On a date, proper."
Santana scoffs. "Are you certain you're from this century? Does anyone even do that anymore?"
"Very funny," Kurt huffs. He takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm not even sure what to do with her, now."
"Sell her to me, then," Santana blurts without thinking, and at first, she's appalled by her suggestion, but as the idea sinks into her brain, she imagines what it might be like to own Brittany herself- to do whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased, and-
"What?" Kurt asks incredulously, his eyebrows rising practically to his hairline.
"You heard me," Santana breathes, her mind working hurriedly, excited by the solution to her problem. "Sell her to me. I'll pay- whatever you want."
"She's not for sale," Kurt says, quirking a smile, clearly amused by Santana's struggle.
"Then keep her away from me," Santana mutters darkly, once again feeling the hopelessness of her situation with Brittany settling on her.
Clearly, she needs a drink.
"There's gotta be a way in- something we're overlooking. Fuck."
Santana tips her cup up, draining the last drops of alcohol as she half-listens to Puck's rambling. She's mostly learned to tune him out; he's been growing more and more frustrated over the past several days, and the drunker he gets, the more he rambles, and the less Santana wants to hear it.
But she knows she can't really be good company to anyone else- she's upset Kurt, and she's surely upset Brittany, but even if she hadn't, she's not sure she can trust herself around the blonde. So her only choice is to listen to Puck complain, and she's been listening for several hours- it almost seems like some form of karmic punishment.
"They're not impenetrable. Everything has a weakness," Puck blathers on, angry, pacing at the head of the table. He'd found nothing in town in the last four days, nothing that got him any closer to figuring out how to get into Lao. Every clue had been a dead end, and even Arty had exhausted his influences. The Tide Ripper stood, new and improved and finished with its repairs, restocked with supplies and ready to go underway, but they couldn't leave until they figured out how to actually access their destination, and Puck was making zero progress on that front.
"You could solve it the same way you solved the problem with Brittany," Santana mutters mockingly, picking at a chip in the wooden table. "Let it go."
Puck whirls on her. "Poseidon's beard, Dia- she fixed this whole fuckin' ship-"
Santana sighs, not really upset about the damage anymore, but just arguing for argument's sake. "She's also the one who broke it-"
"What's your problem with her, anyway?"
"Other than the fact that I want to fuck the life out of her and Kurt won't sell her to me?" Santana sulks, raising a challenging eyebrow.
Puck laughs. "I knew you had a thing for blondes."
"Shut up," she mumbles, flicking a bottle cap sullenly across the table. "Shoulda just let that Hudson moron take her back to Lycas, for all the trouble she's caused. She could go off and marry that Fairy Prince, Flannigan, and I wouldn't have to-"
"Wait- who?" Puck demands, pressing his palms to the table and leaning forward. Santana's eyes widen, and in her drunken state she's overwhelmed by his intense, sudden interest.
"Rory Flannigan, that queer son of Victor, of Gabs-"
Puck's mouth falls open. "She was to marry him?"
"It's why she ran away in the first place," she says with a glare. She gives a drunk, mocking wave of her hand, wriggling her fingers for effect. "To Argo."
"Holy waters!" Puck exclaims. He slams his hand down on the table, making Santana blink. "THAT'S IT! The key to getting into Lao!"
"What? What is?" Santana demands, sitting up angrily, her boots hitting the floor with a muted thud. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Puck ignores her, much to Santana's annoyance. "Jake!" he hollers. "Jake!"
The boy rushes in after a moment, looking like he just woke up, and Puck points to the door the boy entered from. "Get Arty. It's an emergency." Jake flies from the room with a quick Aye-aye, Cap'n! and Puck grins maniacally.
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" Santana snaps, her head spinning from the alcohol and sitting up too fast.
"Yeah," Puck says. "We are going to use Brittany to get into Lao."
And here's me, staying up out of my grave. B)
Ooh, what could Puck be planning? You'll find out in the next chapter, for sure; should be hella fun, actually! XD
Santana is really struggling, huh? I guess it goes against her nature to be nice and actually treat a woman like a human being (more on that in future chapters, of course!) but then again, if I were constantly around Brittany I'd probably have an eternal boner, too, tbh. ;*
Feel free to leave me a review if you want to yell at me for the Brittana interaction in this chapter, or anything else you liked or hated. :D Or if you have more important things to do, like eat delicious food, then you should definitely do that instead!
See you soon, pals! :D