Author's Note: Thank you, thank you all for your lovely reviews, and for your patience! I promise, I won't keep you waiting as long for the next update!
It was late in the night when Brittany left her first "date" with Santana, and she felt like the rest of the world had just melted away in the time she'd spent spread out on that goddess of a human girl's bed (maybe Quinn was right, maybe she was moony over her). They'd just talked for hours, with Santana occasionally trying to turn the innocent kisses she'd place on Brittany's lips into something more, and Brittany had to muster every ounce of will power to prevent that from happening, to prevent anything that would hurt Santana, at least until she was positive that she'd be able to pull away in the midst if something wasn't right. So instead of learning about far off galaxies and rainbow stars, they learned about each other, leaving Brittany feeling all kinds of warm inside.
With the exception of her extra terrestrial counterparts, Brittany had never had a friend, let alone a Santana, whatever she was, in their unlabeled state, so it was all so new to her, actually sitting and talking to someone the way she could talk to Santana. She smiled and she laughed, and she relished in hearing Santana talk about her most embarrassing moment (getting stung by a wasp in the shower and running down into the diner in nothing but a towel, yelling for her father), her favorite movie (The Princess Diaries, but if anyone asks, it's totally Leprechaun), the fact that she thinks tomatoes are disgusting, but she loves pizza. In turn, Brittany shared her own self, the self that she never felt like she could express while she was attempting to diminish her humanness. She shared that she had once spent an entire week of summer locked in her room reading all of the Harry Potter books in one shot (Santana was shocked that she hadn't read them before the seventh book was published), that she'd really believed that human babies were delivered by a giant white bird, until she was embarrassed in Mr. Brandt's health class in ninth grade (and she finally stopped believing everything she'd learned on the Woody Woodpecker cartoons she still sometimes watched with her father), that her favorite thing to do when no one was around was dance in her underwear. The whole time, Santana played with Brittany's fingers, and Brittany was content to watch the range of expressions that came over the girl's face, the way her nose crinkled, the way her dimples popped, the way she sometimes dropped Brittany's hand to use both of hers to emphasize a point. Although Brittany had never been on a date before, she was positive that no matter how simple her first with Santana's was, it was the greatest date in the history of all dates.
The day after was hard, no, beyond hard, on Brittany, having to pretend in the hallways at school that Santana was just another girl, having to control the looks she sent in her direction, having to anchor herself to her locker at one point to keep from flouncing across the hallway and planting a kiss on the pouty lips that chided Mercedes and shot teasing insults at her cousin Noah. Unbeknownst to the alien girl, Santana was having the same struggle, possibly amplified, as the scarf she wore on that warm September New Mexico day was not solely an accessory. No, it served to hide the marks a certain blonde had left behind the night before, marks that seemed to burn like a signal flare every single time Brittany was in close proximity to her (which, considering their school was small, and considering they shared five out of eight classes together, seemed to be a constant occurrence). So badly, Santana wanted to drag Brittany into the janitor's closet, wanted to feel that strange completeness that mysteriously overcame her each and every time she touched Brittany, wanted to breathe in the smell of her shampoo, wanted to taste her lips all day, everyday, wanted to see that far off world and help Brittany find her answers, wanted to just talk to her, for hours on end, but instead, she had to settle for surreptitious waves and winks, until they could be alone together again.
During sixth period, Santana received a text message (from, as she'd changed the name in her phone, My Favorite Martian) letting her know that Brittany, Sam and Quinn were meeting to discuss their plan of action, and that she and Mercedes were invited, if they wanted to come. Immediately, Santana responded to the message, telling Brittany that of course she would be there. After showing it to Mercedes, who was sitting next to her, frantically taking notes on Kate Chopin's The Awakening, she was met with an eye roll, but also a nod, coming to a silent agreement that since Santana didn't have cheer practice, they'd leave school immediately after last period, and Mercedes would drive them out to meet the others in the desert.
"Hi." Santana mouthed to Brittany, who was sitting on the hood of her Prius, when they made it to the spot ten miles outside of town.
"Hey." Brittany mouthed back, her brain unable to stop the corners of her lips from curling up into a smile as Santana took a seat beside her.
"This is not the goddamn Holiday Inn." Quinn hissed, catching the interaction between the two. "Can you save your eye fucking for after we come up with a plan? Everything takes forty times as long when-"
"You waste time being a bitch to everyone?" Mercedes cut her off, and Santana covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.
"You can leave if you want, I'm not the one who invited you here."
"Shut up, Quinn." Sam stepped over to Mercedes and tentatively put a hand on her forearm. "Just start with what you found at Hummel's last night."
"Nothing. I found nothing, that's the problem. He sat in his office the entire time, doing actual police work, but if I could get in there, instead of crouching outside the window and staring at my reflection in his bald head, maybe we'd actually get somewhere."
"We still haven't made a decision if we're actually trying to get there." Sam reminded her, huffing in irritation.
"Oh, we are. I'm not being outvoted on this one. For once, Brittany is voting with me, and even if we have to count human votes, we all know who Santana is voting with, so even if you get Mercedes on your side, we still win, ha!"
"What are you, seven years old, Quinn? Are we voting for what game to play on the playground? These are our lives! Why can't either of you see that?" Sam shook his head, and at the mention of lives at risk, Brittany's fingers danced along the hood of the car, searching for a smaller hand, the one that rested with an open palm behind her back, out of the view of the others, just waiting for her. At the contact, Santana curled her hand around twitching fingers, sucked her lips into her mouth, and tried to keep the burning on the side of her neck at bay.
"Sam." Brittany said softly, hating the way she felt like she was betraying her brother, even though she knew finding this being was the smart choice, the right choice for all of them. Santana's thumb stroked the back of her hand and up her wrist, and she felt grateful, so grateful that someone actually understood her and what she was going through, without needing words. "You know I don't take risks if they aren't for something I really, truly believe in, I think that having Santana and Mercedes here right now sort of proves that. I don't want to put us in danger, but there might be answers out there, answers that we really need to know."
"Britt, I get that, I do, but I don't know how I can agree that something like this is a good idea."
"Is it okay if I say something?" Santana asked, looking to Brittany first, who nodded (with a secret hand squeeze), then to Sam, who sighed, before agreeing. "Okay look, I know 'Cedes and I are part of this now, or whatever, but what we have to say doesn't really matter, because at the end of the day, no matter what happens, it effects your lives so much more than ours. I know you don't know us all that well, but we, or, I guess I shouldn't speak for you, 'Ce, I care about you, and I really haven't stopped thinking about this, so I'm gonna say what I've gotta say anyway. Hummel has been searching for this alien for years, Hummel thinks they're a murderer, and okay, so yeah, there are handprints on corpses, I get that doesn't look good, but Hummel also thinks that Brittany is a murderer, so I don't really trust his judgement. Who's to say they didn't have a damn good reason to kill those people, or that they weren't trying to kill them at all? You guys are alive, and they're probably to thank for it. And what if-" Santana got really quiet, looking at Brittany out of the corner of her eye, Brittany, who's hand felt so warm in hers, Brittany, who made her feel things that she never, in her wildest dreams, imagined she could feel. "What if something happens to one of you? If you get sick, or hurt, or whatever, you don't even know how your bodies will react, what happens then? What happens when it's too late to find them to help?"
There was a strange, crackling silence in the air after Santana finished speaking, and she suddenly felt like she'd maybe seriously overstepped her bounds. Although she knew that Brittany and Quinn were desperate to find the elusive fourth alien, maybe they wouldn't appreciate her giving weird, heartfelt speeches on something that didn't really concern her. But Brittany hadn't let go of her hand, and Santana still felt the burning sensation in the welts on her neck, so she figured that was probably a good thing.
"Making a decision on a what if sounds ridiculous to me." Sam said finally, but even as he spoke the words, he knew that the choice he was against was the right one, knew that venturing into dangerous territory might actually save them from further danger down the line. "If we do this, we're not going in half-cocked and unprepared, Quinn. No rash moves."
"Thank you, Sam." Brittany gave him a half-smile, and Sam just shrugged, wishing there was any other choice that could have been made, and though Quinn had always said that Brittany was the most human of them all, Sam realized that maybe that wasn't true at all. While Brittany had always wanted to be human, mostly because she wanted Santana, Sam had wanted to be human for the sake of being human. He wanted to be on the football team, to play the guitar, to stand out like an All American boy, rather than hiding secrets and flying under the radar.
"Mercedes." Sam looked at her, thinking that although she wouldn't be his sole reason for choosing humanity, she'd definitely be a part of it. "You can walk away from all this if you want to, no one here will think less of you."
"Look, I think you all are fifty shades of crazy, and we'll all probably end up getting our asses killed." Mercedes shook her head, brushing off the images that she'd seen in Hummel's office, her own face replacing another. "But I'm already too involved. If shit goes down, I'd rather be close to the ones I know will protect me. I really, really hope you're right, Santana, about Hummel being mistaken."
"I think we can all agree on that." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand behind her back again, and Santana gave Mercedes a tight lipped smile. Having told Brittany, and then Sam that it was a smart choice, she was hoping, more than anyone that she was right, or else she was more than a little bit responsible for leading them all to their doom. "So I guess now we should talk about our plan to get more information out of the Sheriff's office."
"We need to get him out of there first. He's constantly at the station." Quinn pointed out. "I'm pretty sure he sleeps there."
They spent a good amount of time going back and forth, trying to come up with ways to lure Hummel away. Most involved fires, or breaking and entering other buildings, all of which, Brittany was quick to dismiss. While she was willing to go after an alien, partaking in human crime, especially the type where there was a likelihood of someone getting hurt, was the last thing she wanted to do. By the time they were an hour in, and had made absolutely no progress, Quinn was kicking rocks, threatening to blind the man and burn down the police station if she had to (and then kicked a rock right at Sam's shin when he pointed out that they wouldn't get any information if she destroyed it all). Finally, it was Mercedes, who'd been convinced she had nothing to contribute to the discussion, who had a sudden revelation.
"Wait a second! There is one thing that matters more to Hummel than validating his father!" She shouted, causing everyone to freeze and look at her. "Kurt!"
"So we're going to kill Kurt?" Quinn asked, gears turning in her head, calculating whether of not that would even do anything to benefit them.
"Okay, can I just point out for a second that we had a whole discussion about bring afraid of the murderous fourth alien, but we have Quinn here, who's suggested bodily harm on more than one occasion?" Mercedes gave her a pointed look, and Sam couldn't help but laugh out loud, while Santana and Brittany, still seated on the hood of the car (but temporarily not holding hands) actually attempted to hide it. "No! Not kill him! Santana, don't you gave a cheerleading competition in Artesia tomorrow?"
"Yeah, 'Ce, I asked you to cover my afternoon shift at the diner like, three weeks ago. What's that have to do with anything?"
"Hummel never misses Kurt's cheerleading stuff! That's like a thirty-five minute drive from here, plus the time of the competition."
"So that gives us at least two hours to get in, find what we can and get out." Brittany finished excitedly. "Mercedes, that's perfect."
"Okay, wait, wait, wait." Quinn scowled. "You really think this guy is going to leave town in the middle of his investigation of Brittany and leave all his files behind? He's not an idiot."
"No, you're right, he's not." Santana rolled her eyes. "But he's also not a shitty dad, and even when they found that body, you know, the guy who killed himself, but everyone was convinced was murdered, he stayed overnight in Las Cruces for Regionals last year because he didn't want to let Kurt down. And there's no way he'll take everything with him, because as far as he's concerned, they're safer behind the iron bars of the station than anywhere else."
"Which would be true, if he wasn't up against the ability to manipulate molecular structure." Sam smiled a genuine smile for the first time since they'd begun discussing the plan.
"And I'll be there, so I can keep my eye on him, and report back if, for any reason, he leaves." Santana hopped up off the hood of the car, catching her scarf on the windshield wiper.
All went silent, and three sets of eyes were on Santana as she stood there, making her feel extremely uncomfortable. She hadn't realized why they all were staring, the reason for her scarf momentarily forgotten as she got caught up in the excitement of the formulation of an actual plan, and when she turned to look quizzically at Brittany, she was met with wide eyes and a red face.
"What?" Santana asked, and slowly, Brittany brought her fingers up to her own neck, signaling silently about what everyone was staring at. When Santana looked down, she gasped, the bruising that had been present in the morning gone, replaced by bright, glowing marks, actually emitting the signal Santana felt inside of her. "Oh. Fuck."
"Oh my God, Santana." Brittany jumped to her feet in a flash, once she'd processed what she was looking at, momentarily ignoring the other's reaction to the unmistakeable giveaway that she'd gone to town on Santana's neck. Instead, she focused on the dark haired girl before her, focused on the fact that the last time she'd left glowing marks, it was a result of her healing, not her maiming. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't...they weren't...this morning, they were just regular ones." Santana whispered, trying to hide herself from the scrutinizing glares that she was being subjected to, while simultaneously feeling totally weirded out that her hickeys were glowing. "Britt, they're all staring at us."
"Can we just, have a minute, or something, please?" Brittany tore her eyes from Santana to look at her brother, who was dragging his toe in the dirt, trying to act like he wasn't staring, at Mercedes, with a hand was firmly planted on her hip, and a take no bullshit look on her face, and Quinn, who Brittany was pretty sure had cartoon steam coming out of her ears (maybe there was some accuracy to those Woody Woodpecker cartoons)
"It was only a matter of fucking time." Quinn snipped, sort of under her breath. "Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."
"Quinn-" Sam started.
"No, she needs to explain right now. Her girlfriend is walking around sporting flashing neon I'm Fucking An Alien signs. This is fan-fucking-tastic."
"You know what, Quinn, I don't have to explain anything." Brittany uncharacteristically snapped. "You think I should have told you that Santana and I kissed? Or that I was over her house last night, not fucking, just for the record, so you can make me feel like crap about it? No. I asked for a minute, so just back off and give us a damn minute."
Stunned, Quinn opened and closed her mouth several times before turning away, the rock a few feet ahead of her shattering into a thousand pieces. She was seething, and ordinarily, Brittany would seek to calm her down, but she couldn't be bothered by the melodramatics, couldn't really be bothered by anything other that the fact that her not-girlfriend was glowing, and that she couldn't help but feel that same glow, only deep within her chest. Carefully, Brittany brought her hand up to Santana's neck, surprised that she couldn't feel the marks, and even more surprised when, feeling brazen, Santana pressed the quickest kiss to her lips.
"I've been waiting to do that all day." She murmured, getting lost in blue eyes, momentarily forgetting that their very, very new secret had just been revealed to those that each of them held dearest.
"I'm glad you did." Brittany smiled, tucking a stray hair behind Santana's ear, and letting her fingers dance over the muted silver glow. "I'm so sorry that I got carried away last night. Do they hurt?"
"Not really. They just, I don't know, burn, or something, when you're close by, it's the weirdest thing ever, and sort of a huge distraction at school."
"I can, maybe..." Brittany waved her hand over the area to indicate healing, all the while thinking that the sensation Santana described was exactly the one she got in her chest whenever they were remotely close together.
"Yeah." Her voice was indecisive, because if she was telling the truth, she sort of, maybe, really didn't mind so much that they were there, but then shook that off and nodded firmly. "Yeah, yeah, you should, if you can. Quinn's probably right about the flashing neon sign, anyway. This is the exact opposite of laying low."
"This is the most awkward conversation I've ever witnessed." Sam said quietly to Mercedes, because as low as they believed they were speaking, everyone but Quinn, who was exploding every rock in her path, could hear them. "And this is coming from me."
"It's sort of sweet. I still think Santana has lost her damn mind, but they're kind of cute together."
"Quinn's going to absolutely lose her shit. This is her biggest fear come true."
"Brittany hooking up with Santana? What, does she have a thing for her or something?"
"For Brittany? No, absolutely not. We're all, related, or something like that, and it would be disgusting, all that blonde. She's just been watching Britt moon over Santana forever, and I think it's the same reason why she never wanted any of us to get too human. If we do, and we find a way home, we'll be a lot less likely to leave, having something here that matters to us to leave behind."
"Oh." Mercedes pursed her lips, looking at her best friend, looking at the way she looked at Brittany, like she'd created the whole damn universe, and trying not to feel unbelievably sad for her as she came to the realization that this alien hunt, the one that she fought so vehemently for, might rip her heart straight from her chest- and not by means of evil murderous alien talons.
"Honestly though, I think it was already too late for that."
"You don't think she'd get on a rocket ship, or a UFO, or a magic cloud and leave this whole world, the hiding, the sheriff and all of it behind?"
"No. I think she's way too human, and I know she's head over heels in love with that girl."
"And what about you?" Mercedes asked, hoping, against her best judgement, that maybe this weird alien magic could work on someone else besides Brittany and Santana.
"I think maybe I'm the most human of all."
"I'm not even sure this is going to work, I've never had to heal something that I've done."
"Brittany, please stop saying it like you hurt me." Santana pleaded, looking into her eyes and smiling, taking Brittany's hand in her own and guiding it back to her throat. "If it wasn't for the rest of the world, and for you being in danger, I'd totally let these things run their course. Guess you'll have to be more careful though next time, if you stop trying to take my temperature and keep on making out with me."
"I just want you safe." Brittany shrugged sheepishly. "I'd never forgive myself if I let something happen to you."
"So I've heard, a few dozen times." Santana teased, poking her alien in the ribs. "I hope you know though, that I feel the safest when I'm with you, even if you're maybe the most exciting, most dangerous thing that's ever happened to me."
"I'm not really sure what to say to that, honestly."
"Nothing, you can just kiss me, if you want."
Forgetting even further about her surroundings, Brittany met Santana's lips with her own, starting softly, just letting their lips meld together, ignoring Santana's persistent urge to deepen it. When she finally opened her mouth, she couldn't help but let a squeak escape as Santana just barely brushed the tip of her tongue with her own. Almost involuntarily, Brittany felt tingles in her hand, felt her fingers working to heal marred flesh, quickly swallowing the sound of Santana's soft moan as the girl was overtaken by the power of their connection. She knew Santana was seeing things again, knew that she wouldn't want to break apart, but the clearing of Sam's throat and the coolness of her fingertips when the healing was through snapped her back to reality, and she reluctantly pulled away from Santana.
"So how about them Cowboys?" Santana vaguely registered Sam joking, but she was too dazed by the reappearance of rainbow stars, seemingly closer than the last time, and about a thousand times more vivid, even with such a brief kiss.
"They're gone." Brittany marveled, her fingers ghosting over the skin where her glowing marks had been.
"It doesn't feel like they are. I saw more stars." Santana mouthed, really not wanting anyone else to know about that, before Brittany was ready to tell them. Almost as if Brittany was reading her thoughts, she nodded and pressed a finger to her lips.
"Not until we know more. I don't...I don't want Quinn to know, and think that I should use you for that purpose alone."
"Well I really like kissing you, so I'm not sure it totally counts as using."
"I know, but still, this is all really new, and I just want it to be about us, okay?"
"Okay." Santana nodded, smiling at her girl (or not her girl, whatever they were- or weren't). "So I guess we have to face the music now."
"You two are aware that you were basically just making out in front of us, right?" Mercedes called out, and Santana turned around, keeping one hand on Brittany's, and setting the other on her hip.
"Well we figured since we'd already been called out on our previous activities, we didn't really have to hide it."
"Santana, I think you're actively trying to get exploded by Quinn." The second human gestured over to the still angry blonde, and Santana rolled her eyes, but instinctively moved closer to Brittany.
"She's harmless. Just let her blow up a few hundred more rocks, then come yell at Brittany, and probably me, because I'm not mad about it, then let her go spy on Hummel and she'll be perfectly fine." Sam reassured Mercedes (and, by default, Santana, who actually wasn't all that concerned in the first place).
"You're not mad?" Brittany couldn't fight the smile that formed on her face at her brother's words, and Sam looked at her like she was absolutely insane.
"Really, Britt, you've been staring at Santana for-" He was cut off with a rock kicked in his direction and a glare, but Santana just snuggled further into Brittany, thinking she was the sweetest thing in the entire universe, and still sort of shocked that she'd been completely oblivious to something that now seemed so painfully obvious.
"I am mad." Mercedes cocked an eyebrow at Santana, but the barely there smile playing on her lips gave away that she wasn't actually mad, and she understood why there had been a wariness about making any kind of announcement. "You call me to whine when you get a hangnail, but you get a girlfriend and your best friend is the last to know?"
"We're not actually...girlfriends." Santana bit her bottom lip and caught the wrinkle of Brittany's nose beside her. "Right now, we're just being, or whatever."
"Okay, did you change your name to Rain travel in your time machine to the sixties? What does being even mean? Staring at each other and getting magical hickeys? Sounds a lot like girlfriends to me."
"'Cedes, it's complicated, alright?" Santana frowned, because really it wasn't all that complicated, she cared about Brittany (more than that even, though she was trying to push those thoughts to the side, because how was that even possible after such a short time?), they'd had their "date," they were getting to know each other, and definitely would be doing a lot of making out (and more, totally more) in the future, it was just mostly Brittany's safety that was really keeping them from more than being.
"Really? Doesn't look to complicated to me, you practically just swallowed her head."
"I think only one person in this vicinity capable of head swallowing, I'm sorry, so wanky." Santana looked pointedly at Sam, and actually made herself laugh at the unexpected innuendo. "Think about if for a second, I didn't die in the diner, Hummel thinks Brittany has something to do with it, then suddenly we're out in public together?"
"Oh. Right."
"Yeah." Santana let her thumb circle over the back of Brittany's hand, really not proving the not-girlfriends thing, but she didn't really care, labels weren't a big deal to her, she knew where her heart was, and that's what mattered the most.
"Well, I'm happy for you, Rain and Sunshine, on your being." Sam tried to joke, just as a particularly large explosion erupted three-hundred feet in the distance. "And she worries about us drawing attention."
"She'll get over it." Brittany reiterated Sam's earlier words for her own personal reassurance. "Getting to go through Hummel's stuff tomorrow will be dually beneficial, breaking and entering is basically her favorite thing to do."
"That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." Mercedes quipped.
"She's not allowed to break into your house, we made sure of that." Sam promised.
"Listen, guys, I don't mean to cut this short, but I've got to work in an hour, and my bus leaves tomorrow morning at five-thirty. 'Cedes, do you mind dropping me off?"
"I can actually do it, if you want." Brittany told her softly, and Santana immediately grinned, not wanting to ask, but really wanting the ten minutes of alone time with her alien girl. "If you don't mind, Mercedes, taking Sam and Quinn home."
"No problem. But Santana, I expect your ass to call me later on."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever I'll call you, but unless you're coming with gallons of coffee for me in the morning, I'm not staying on the phone all night."
"Sam, if she doesn't stop making craters in the ground, leave her here, and I'll drive back out and handle it later." Brittany scowled.
"She'll come." Sam shook his head. "The last thing I want is for you two out here alone right now."
"Thank you. For this, and for before."
"It is what it is." He shrugged. "I'll see you at home."
Saying her final goodbyes to Mercedes and Sam (promising Mercedes that she'd call, promising Sam that she'd keep both eyes fully on a Hummel at the competition, though he hadn't asked her to make that promise), Santana was eager to get in the car, and eager to gauge just how Brittany was feeling about the entirety of the situation, the fourth alien, the end of Sam's descent, the announcement of their whatever, Quinn being Quinn. It was strange though, how immediately after she buckled her seatbelt, all of those thoughts quieted, and she just fell into thirty seconds of contentment as she breathed the same air as the blonde, and still, somehow, felt that burning in her neck and abdomen, like both faded marks of Brittany remained imprinted deep within her.
"Well, I guess we failed pretty majorly at keeping that a secret. I mean, I didn't really care about keeping it from them, I just didn't want-"
"Quinn reacts that way if I tell her my last class ran late, it's just how she is." Brittany interrupted, looking over as Santana flipped down the mirror to check her neck again, as if she didn't believe she had really been healed. "I don't want you to worry about it."
"I'm not, I'm just worried about you. I know you don't like that she fights with you all the time..."
"You don't have to be worried." Brittany took Santana's hand and smiled. "I think, maybe, we have real stuff to worry about, that's way more important than one of Quinn's hissy fits. I wish I could go to the competition tomorrow."
"It's okay, Britt, I don't think he'll bother me there, not with my parents, and Kurt, and crazy Coach Roz around. You've gotta be here to help Quinn and Sam."
"Oh." Brittany's cheeks heated, realizing that her initial desire to go hadn't been to watch out for Santana, she knew that there were certain things about simply being Santana Lopez that protected her from Hummel's public inquiry, that she was in some ways safer around Hummel without her. "I..."
"Britt." Santana pursed her lips, looking at Brittany with utter adoration once she realized what she meant. "I wish you could be there too."
"It's stupid, I know. I just, I used to sit and watch you at football games and stuff, not in a creepy way or anything, just in a I have a major crush on the sexy head cheerleader kind of way.
"Dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time?" Santana sang, surprising Brittany with how beautiful her voice was, and making Santana blush furiously when she realized what she'd sang. "Oh my God, I'm such a dork. I'm sorry, that should have been one of my embarrassing confessions to you, that I own more than one Taylor Swift album."
"Your voice is really pretty." Brittany blurted out. "And I think there are way worse circumstances to sing Taylor Swift than right now."
"You're probably right." Santana laughed, and played with Brittany's fingers. "Tomorrow is a lame competition though, I promise, you'll get to see me at a much better one, once Hummel realizes this is just a ridiculous witch hunt, and moves on to assuming someone else is one of the Roswell aliens."
"I hope so. Please be careful though, okay?"
"I'm more worried about you, Brittany. If you get caught..." They both turned serious, their previous joking quickly forgotten as the gravity of what was to happen in less than twenty-four hours hit them simultaneously. Thought Hummel would be far from his office, though Santana would send a warning if he was headed back, what they were doing was beyond dangerous, and to get caught, any one of the three aliens, would spell complete disaster.
"I won't. As rash as Quinn can be, she's actually a meticulous planner, and we'll disable the cameras, get in, get the information, and be out of there before the deputy can ever stand up from his desk."
"Will you...will you call me as soon as you're done?" Santana looked down, feeling ridiculous that she was already turning into that girl, approximately five seconds after her and Brittany became a thing, or not a thing, whatever. All the insistence on not-girlfriends and just being didn't change what her heart was saying, that Brittany belonged to her, that she belonged to Brittany, that whatever this otherworldly pull that they felt toward each other was went so far beyond explanation with words in the English language, or really, words in any human language, and she would worry herself sick for as long as there was any type of danger to Brittany.
"Of course I will." Brittany promised, instinctively bringing Santana's hands up and kissing the inside of her wrist, a gesture so new, yet somehow so familiar. "But we'll be so fast, that you'll probably still be in the middle of your routine."
"I hope so. I just want you to be safe."
"I know, and I will. Tomorrow night, once it's all over, and we've all reconvened on what we've found, maybe you and I could go for a drive somewhere, like our second date or something."
"That sounds really, really good." Santana exhaled sharply, trying to stop the pinching anxiety about the whole thing from overtaking her. She was the biggest proponent of doing what it took to find the fourth alien, she just wished that she knew, without any doubts, that Brittany wouldn't be in any danger in the process.
They were silent for a long while, both girls caught up in their thoughts about it, and when Santana looked up again, they were pulling in to the alley behind the diner, and they both sat there for several more minutes, Santana reluctant to get out of the car, and Brittany reluctant to let her. Finally, it was Santana who leaned over the console and caught Brittany's lips with her own, taking her by surprise (although she probably should have expected the kiss, because why wouldn't Santana kiss her). Immediately caught up by the electrical current that crackled under her skin as Santana cupped her cheek and drew her further in, Brittany tugged dark hair free of the confining ponytail, twisting it through her long fingers and fighting the whimper that threatened to escape from her throat.
Santana sighed into the kiss, feeling the sharp pricks at the base of her skull, signaling that she was about to be overtaken by the visions she could only assume came from deep within Brittany. She saw the stars first, so close, they were burning into her, before they faded off into the distance, and she found herself in the middle of a vast expanse of jet black sand, surrounded by nothingness, the only thing before her the deep, auburn clouds that hung low in the sky. Her body, so physically in tune with Brittany's motions, the way her hand snaked up the back of her shirt, pressing into the small of her back, the way the other pulled gently on her hair, causing Santana to moan out loud, the way their lips seemed to fuse together, tongue brushing, teeth clacking with harsh urgency seemed to be at such a disconnect with her mind, off on some other planet, giving a brand new meaning to the phrase on cloud nine.
Mind-Santana ached to explore the uncharted landscape that spread out before her, and she wasn't sure how it was even possible that she could wander around in Brittany's mind like it was an actual, physical dimension, but then again, the fact that she was actually seeing inside of her like that was mind blowing enough. She could actually feel the silken sand beneath her feet and the thick, almost solid yellow air that enveloped her, and she spun in circles, searching for something, anything, that might help her help Brittany to understand where she came from. At the end of her fourth rotation, when Santana was surprised she felt no dizziness (until the hard suck Brittany gave to her bottom lip reminded her that she wasn't actually spinning), she saw a huddled mass in the distance. Though she couldn't make out individual forms, Santana could tell there were several beings, beings with distinct bodily features, humanlike, but not, and she itched to get closer, itched to know who they were (was one of them Brittany, in her original form? could she possibly recall herself in the third person?). When Santana took two steps in their direction, she was suddenly hit full force with indescribable sadness, waves of grief coursing over her with enough force to bring her to her metaphorical knees. Just as she thought she'd truly collapse, feeling more empathy for the creatures in the distance that she'd ever felt for any on Earth, she felt herself suddenly sucked out of that world, the sharp pinch of devastation feeling, almost, immediately, like a long forgotten memory as she open her eyes and stared straight into Brittany's crystal blue. Brittany's face was full of concern, and feeling the wet, salty trails on her own cheeks made her realize that she'd actually been brought to tears by what she'd experienced.
"Holy shit." Santana exhaled, fisting Brittany's shirt with both hands and kissing her softly, spurred on by the urge to feel lips against lips, the urge to remind herself that what she'd seen wasn't real, or, wasn't the present.
"Santana, what happened? What did you see?"
"I was there, I saw it all, the black sand, and yellow sky, and these deep, blood red clouds. I swear, I was breathing in the air from your planet and then..."
"You're crying." Brittany wiped the tear streaks from Santana's cheeks, telling the girl, who was sort of trembling in her arms, something she'd already known.
"I don't...I don't know why. I didn't see anything, but I felt it. I felt it like it was happening to me, here were these beings, off in the distance, and their grief, it was like this terrible wall that kept me from getting closer to them. I've never felt anything as sad as that."
"Oh, Santana. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you had to feel that. I wish I could kiss you without your body feeling like it's about to burst into flames, or you crying because there's this crazy sadness in my past."
"No, Britt, don't wish that. You have memories that you can't access, and if I can help you get to them, I want to. Maybe all that...sad...is the reason you're here in the first place. There has to be a reason this is all appearing for me."
Brittany was quiet, contemplating Santana's words. She knew that she was probably right, knew that this pull towards Santana had to come from somewhere, maybe somewhere otherworldly, and she couldn't even deny her increasing desire to know more about what she harbored in her own mind. Looking at Santana, lips red and swollen, eyes still dark from the physical arousal their kissing had caused her, hair tousled from where Brittany had ran her fingers through, cheeks marred with tear tracks, and this eager look on her face (eagerness, Brittany couldn't believe, to keep searching, even after feeling something so devastating), Brittany felt another surge of love for the beautiful human girl. Rather than respond right away, Brittany just cradled Santana's chin in her hand and looked deep into her eyes, before placing a lingering, chaste kiss on her lips.
"Thank you." Brittany whispered, repeating the two words over and over again, making sure it was clear just how much it all meant to her.
"I need to know now too." Santana shrugged. "I care about you, like a lot, and I want to know for you."
"I care about you too, and I need you to promise that you'll tell me any time you want to stop. I can't, I won't, use you for this, never."
"I know that, and even though I don't think it'll ever happen, I can make you that promise." She bit her lip, looking out the window at the back door of the diner, knowing that she had to go, knowing that her father was probably already losing his mind that she wasn't there his required fifteen minutes before her shift. "I'm working late tonight, and then I need to try to get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow."
"Yeah, sorry I kept you up half the night last night."
"I'm not. I really had a good time with you. But I guess I'll text you in the morning, let you know when I've got Hummel in my sights. Just let me know what your solid plans are when you make them, okay? And please, please be careful."
"I promise I will be, you be careful too. Goodnight, Santana." I love you, Brittany added silently, though she wasn't sure why, in that moment, she felt the need to do so.
"Night, Britt."
After watching to make sure that Santana got inside (it didn't matter to Brittany that it was still light out) Brittany instinctively looked around to make sure that she was still alone before turning her car around and heading back to her house. When she walked in the door and up to Sam's room to see if he'd gotten home, it took her by no surprise to see that Quinn was there, lying on his bed and tossing a ball in the air. Sam, for his part, was studying a hand drawn map of the police station, trying to determine, Brittany figured, what their best plan of action was.
"Hey." Brittany jarred both of them, and Quinn sat up with a scowl firmly planted on her face. Deciding it was better not to engage an angry alien, she went up behind Sam and looked over his shoulder at the map. "What are you thinking?"
"Well, we talked about it on the way home, and odds are, Deputy Tanaka is going to be sitting at the front desk, like he always is. Our best bet is to lure him out of there first."
"Any idea on how we're doing that?"
"Mercedes actually volunteered to help." Sam blushed a little at the mention of Mercedes, and Brittany fought the urge to tease him about it in front of Quinn. "I'm going to blow a hole in one of her tires, and she'll go in there looking for help."
"You think Tanaka will be that easily swayed?" Brittany asked, and Sam just looked at her for a second, wondering if she'd been raised in the same town as him, the town where the Deputy was basically caricatured for his ridiculous behavior. "Okay, right. And all three of us are going in?"
"No." Quinn snapped. "Sam and I are. You're staying outside, keeping watch, and hoping your damn phone doesn't ring with your girlfriend telling you that Hummel is nowhere to be found."
"But-"
"That's the plan, Brittany. You can't just walk in here and change it, I know you think your word is law, but guess what? It's not." Quinn moved to stand nose to nose with Brittany, but the taller blonde just shook her head and conceded, not even wanting to deal with the power struggle for the time being. "Good, glad we worked that out."
"So the competition starts at nine, Mercedes said, so when we hears from Santana that Hummel is there, she's going to pick us up here. That way, our car is still in the driveway, and we don't have to worry about being spotted." Sam filled Brittany in, and she nodded.
"I guess you guys have it all figured out then."
"Yeah, well, we did what needed to be done while you were making out with Lopez. Some of us have priorities straight."
"You know what, Quinn? I'm done with hearing this. You're being unnecessarily dramatic for no reason. I was gone for an hour because I was driving her to work, and maybe if you hadn't been preoccupied blowing half of the desert to smithereens, we would have done this before I left. So don't even."
"Whatever. I just can't believe you."
"Just can't believe what? That I really care about her? That I refuse to be a heartless robot like you? Get over it. I don't know what it is you have against Santana, but she makes me feel really happy."
"And what about when we leave? You still going to be happy then?"
"I don't know why you're so convinced that we are going to leave. Obviously we came here for a reason in the first place." Brittany snapped her eyes shut, thinking for a brief instant about what Santana had felt. "You act like you remember where we came from, like you know it's so much better than Earth, when you know nothing!"
"And you do? Please, Brittany, get over yourself!"
"Guys, just stop." Sam pleaded. "You're fighting over nothing."
"No Sam, we are fighting over Quinn thinking she knows everything, and her constant judgement of everything I do. Somehow I'm always wrong, and I'm really done with her behavior."
"Actually, we're fighting over Brittany having no consideration for anyone but herself."
"I'm sorry, what?" Brittany felt the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream as her anger rose, and she turned away from Quinn before she did something she'd seriously regret. "Me being with Santana has nothing to do with anyone but me and Santana. Stop thinking that I live my life as a personal attack on you. And I don't even know what Santana did to make you have such a problem with her."
"It's not Lopez that I have a problem with, it's you. Think about it, Brittany, she's too damn good for you."
The room went silent after Quinn spit those words (why she said them, she really didn't know, they just came out, maybe because she knew they'd hurt Brittany the most), and Sam just stood there with his mouth agape, poising himself to grab whichever of the girls lunged at the other first. He'd never seen his sister get violent, in fact, she was morally opposed to violence of any sort, but he'd also never seen her as angry or hurt as she was in that moment, so he wasn't sure what to expect. It was Quinn who moved first, but it wasn't towards Brittany, quite the opposite, actually, she moved away, grabbing her backpack, needing to get out of that house as quickly as possible. Contrary to what the others probably believed, she didn't enjoy the anger she felt towards Brittany, she wished she could control it, wished they could be like sisters, but it was a force greater than she could fight, and somehow, and seemed to increase exponentially the more time Brittany spent with Santana. It wasn't jealousy, Quinn was sure of that, and she almost wished it was. Jealousy would make sense, jealousy she could handle, but anger with no real origin? That was impossible. Without another word, Quinn walked out the door, fighting the urge to look back, fighting the urge to see if her leaving had any real impact on Brittany.
"Well." Sam's voice cut through the silence in the room. "Looks like things are back to normal. I knew that the cease fire wouldn't last all that long. I'm glad you're standing up for yourself though. "
"Yeah, well, I've let her walk all over me forever, and I can't live my life the way she wants me to. Just because she exists entirely to get back to a place we left in the first place doesn't mean I should." Brittany flopped down on Sam's bed, kicking her shoes off and sighing deeply.
"You know what she said isn't true, right? She's not too good for you."
"I guess." Brittany bit back the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. "Sam, I really need to talk to you about something, but I need you to swear that you won't tell Quinn."
"Britt, what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. Or, I mean, I guess I did do something. But not something bad, I don't think. I don't know. Please..."
"I won't say anything, don't worry." He swore, sitting up straighter in his chair so Brittany was in full view. "What's up?"
"Okay. So, I mean obviously you know that Santana and I have kissed and stuff..."
"Please tell me you're not asking me to give you a sex talk, Brittany, because you're my sister, and that's really, really gross."
"Eww, no. Why would you even think that? And we haven't had sex, I mean, I want to have sex with her, obviously, and I-"
"Brittany! Stop, stop talking! Again, you're my sister! I love you, but I can't listen to you talk about your sex life."
"Okay, right, sorry! I actually wasn't going to talk about sex at all." She shook her head, totally embarrassed that she'd started rambling on to Sam about that. "When I kiss Santana, she sees stuff. Like, somehow I'm making a connection with her without trying."
"What kind of stuff? And if it's something I don't want to know about, please feel free to keep one details to yourself."
"No, no, not that kind of stuff! I wouldn't even be telling you about this if that was the case. She's seeing my memories, memories that I didn't know I had, of our home planet."
"Wait, seriously?" Sam's eyes widened and he almost wanted to shake Brittany, unable to believe that the very thing Quinn was freaking out about could actually serve as a means to help them achieve her exact goal. "What is it that she saw? Why can't we tell Quinn? Do you know how big of a deal this is?"
"Yes, I know what a big deal it is, obviously! And I'm not ready to tell Quinn yet, because she's insane, and you know she'll develop an obsession with it, and things are just...they're really new with Santana, and I don't want what happens between us to be another one of those things Quinn tries to control."
"Okay. But you have all the answers to our universe right at your fingertips...or...something that sounds less sexual than that." Sam wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Don't you want to know?"
"Of course I want to know, and I'm going to know more, eventually, but I also have to be really careful. Last night, her skin got so hot that it burned to the touch, and you saw the marks I left...then today, she broke away from our kiss, and she was crying. I just want to tread really lightly with this, I don't know yet how much her body can handle."
"What does she think? And why was she crying?"
"She doesn't want to stop." Brittany couldn't fight the smile that spread across her face, even through her concerns, because the idea of kissing Santana all the time and finding out about her past basically seemed like the best deal in the world. "She saw our planet, and then she saw creatures, I don't know if it was us, or what, but apparently there was some kind of emotional distress, and she thinks maybe that's why we left."
"So that's why you said that to Quinn."
"Yeah. Sam, I want to know where we come from, but I also don't think, even once I know it, that I'm going to want to leave."
"Because of Santana?"
"No. I mean, yeah, I'm in love with her, and now I have the chance for her to maybe love me too. But even without that, this is the only life I remember, and if Santana is right, it seems like our old life wasn't so great. Why would I leave?"
"I don't know, Britt. I can't say I disagree with you, but this is part of the reason why I didn't want to start searching for the fourth alien. What if we find them and then everything we know changes?"
"I have no idea. I really don't. I just know that I can't go through life not knowing why we're here and what we are. Even if it's not what I want, or you want, maybe we really serve some greater purpose, and we can't not fulfill that."
"I guess." Sam frowned. "It just kind of sucks."
"Or maybe it doesn't. Let's just wait and see, okay?"
"Yeah, only for you, and apparently for your girl with her epic persuasion skills. She should go to law school or something."
"Yeah, she's definitely persuasive." Brittany grinned, not even denying Sam's your girl statement. "What about you and Mercedes? I saw you do that little arm grab with her out in the desert."
"I dunno. Nothing yet, but we'll see. I'll keep you posted on whether she and I will be helping with the interplanetary research. But I say if Santana is eager to do it, and obviously you want to keep kissing her, go with it. We both know that you'll do whatever it takes to make sure she's okay in the process."
"You're right, thanks Sam. And let me know if you want me you put in a good word for you with Mercedes. Maybe we'll double not-date or something."
"You know you're totally dating, right? Even if you're not using labels for it? Because I saw the handholding and the almost making out in desert, and the lame faces both of you had on."
"I know." Brittany laughed, fighting the urge to fist pump. "I'm totally dating Santana Lopez! And she sang Taylor Swift to me in the car! I feel like such a dork, and I don't even care!"
"You totally are, but I'm glad to see that you're happy, Britt."
The next morning, when Santana was on the bus just after sunrise, she realized that getting under an hour of sleep before a big competition was probably the worst idea she could have ever had. After spending an hour in the shower washing the French fry smell out of her hair, and then even longer on the phone with Mercedes, being that totally lame and stereotypical high school girl who couldn't stop gushing about their crush, while Mercedes played coy about whatever her feelings were for Sam Pierce, Santana ended up in bed with her lap top, doing copious amounts of research on the known planets in Earth's solar system (plus Pluto, just in case, since she thought it would be really cool if Brittany came from there). After four hours, she decided that none were a match for what she'd seen in her visions, which really, in her mind, meant only one thing; Brittany, Sam and Quinn were not only from another planet, they were from another galaxy entirely. Even on the bus, she was unable to sleep, unable to stop thinking about yellow skies and black sands, and frustrated that while she was an integral part of the day's events, she was so far away from the action that was happening in Roswell.
"Alright, Cheerios!" Santana finally stood up in her seat, figuring the best way to distract herself was to think about something she knew she was good at, winning. "Last year, we won this competition easily, but let's not get comfortable! According to Pom and Circumstance's weekly team rankings, the Bulldogs fall only two spots below us. I know this has no bearing on our chances for Regionals, but it doesn't mean we can slack off. We need to show them what we're made of, because my team will not fall from the top ranked spot on that blog. That means one smile better not falter, one move that isn't perfect better not be made. Land your flips on two feet, tighten up your pyramids, and for the sake of your spot on this team, your uniforms better be damn perfect, not one hair out of place. We aren't playing around. Hummel, where are you?"
"I'm right here!" Kurt Hummel stood up quickly from his seat in the back of the bus, taken by surprise that Santana was singling him out for the first time in his three years on the squad.
"Good. You're my second-in-command today."
"Me?"
"Yes you. Is there another Kurt Hummel on this bus?" Santana snapped, trying to sound like her usual authoritative self, and not like she was internally melting down about the safety of Brittany and the others depending, in a large part, on her ability to watch the Sheriff. "You're the only one here who has never missed a practice. Consider it a reward, and don't screw it up, or you'll be warming the bench with Stern."
"Yes ma'am, um…Captain!" Kurt flushed, never one to draw attention to himself on the team, though Santana knew full well that he typically spent his weekends performing lead roles in the community theater, and was all but shy outside the confines of school.
"The minute this bus parks, go with him to do stretches. I'm with Coach Roz checking us in. Any questions?"
No one dared asked Santana a thing, they knew that when she was in her captain mode, she was hard core, not like the girl who played nice at the diner (which, in an of itself, was mostly due to the expectations of her father, but that was beside the point). Silently, every last one of them filed out of the bus at Artesia High School, Kurt puffing up his chest just slightly as he took a swig out of his water bottle. Tossing her bag under the bench and tucking her phone into her Spanx (for the first time in her life, grateful that they were suffocatingly tight), she distanced herself from the rest of the Cheerios and took to her own stretches, making sure at all times, one eye was on the bleachers. It was well beyond an hour and several of her own shouts over the megaphone later when she watched her parents file into her seats, followed not far behind by Hummel, dressed in jeans an a flannel shirt. Without his uniform, he looked so non-threatening, he just looked like a dad, a dad who loved his son, even if he was a cheerleader and could sing a high C while wearing tights. If Santana's primary concern wasn't Brittany, she would actually feel bad about lying to him, breaking into his office, and having to villainize him. But there was no other way, as long as he suspected the girl, as long as he was a threat to her, he was their enemy, and needed to be treated as such.
In Brittany's room, forty miles away, the three aliens waited, pretending, for the sake of their sanity, that it was any other Saturday morning. Though Brittany and Quinn hadn't exchanged words since their argument the day before, they were having a silent truce, for the sake of getting their information. Brittany lay on her bed, cellphone beside her, reading Great Expectations for her English class, Quinn clicked from website to website, absently passing the time, and Sam attempted to beat his Flappy Birds high score on his phone. When Brittany's text message alert blared on full volume, she jumped up, tossing the book on the floor, and alerted Quinn and Sam that Hummel was at the competition, and that the Cheerios were going on in twenty minutes. Knowing that Mercedes had gotten the same text, and would be in front of the house in two minutes or less, Brittany quickly sent a break a leg text in return to Santana (although she wasn't sure if that was only for showbusiness, or if she could say that to cheerleaders too) and tied her hair back before rushing to follow the others out the door.
"I cannot believe my life is now driving a getaway car for what is essentially a heist of the sheriff's office." Mercedes lamented as Sam climbed in the passenger and the girls got into the back.
"Don't tell me you're thinking about backing out on us now." Quinn snapped. "Because it's too damn late to come up with another plan."
"Excuse me, I'm not backing out, you're in my car, Fabitch, so you can check that attitude of yours at the door. Now shut up so I can drive."
From the backseat, Brittany caught a glimpse of Sam's grin in the rearview mirror, clearly impressed that Mercedes could stand up to Quinn like that, and seeing her brother look like a gigantic dork with a crush (not that she had any right to talk about dorks with crushes) momentarily abated the anxiety that was coursing through her veins. When they were just around the corner from the police station, Mercedes pulled the car over, and when she got out, Brittany noticed that she'd gone full damsel in distress for their plan, full face of makeup, heels that Brittany was sure she could never walk in, and low cut dress. If Hummel were around, he probably would take no notice, always too entrenched in his work to be distracted, but Deputy Ken Tanaka, he was an entirely different story. He may have looked like a meathead, but he was actually kind of a bumbling idiot, and Mercedes could have waved a new penny in front of his face and he'd have lost focus for a good ten minutes. So her outfit, combined with the flat tire that Sam, was, at that moment, creating on the rear driver's side (a full on blow out, so Tanaka couldn't just patch it up and move on, he'd have to actually jack up the car and change the tire) would buy them at least a half hour inside.
"Are you done?" Brittany asked Sam, staring at the screen on her phone in case Santana sent another text.
"Yup." He stood up, dusting his hands on his pants and looking appreciatively at Mercedes. "You look, um, really nice, Mercedes. You're sure you're okay with this?"
"Yes, she's sure." Quinn shoved Sam forward and Mercedes just rolled her eyes. "Save the marriage proposals for later."
"Why does she have to be so embarrassing?" Sam whispered to Brittany, making her choke out a laugh and just shrug her shoulders.
As the trio made their way toward the back of the police station, and underneath the barred widow that guarded Hummel's office, Mercedes sashayed toward the front door, trying to channel her inner diva to get this done. She wasn't lying when she said she couldn't believe this was what she was doing. Two Saturdays ago, she was watching reruns of Boy Meets World and eating her mother's waffles, and such a short time later, all sense of normalcy had gone out the window. She knew that Santana loved this (loved Brittany, though she wasn't ever sure Santana was aware of that yet), but Mercedes had yet to fully decide on whether or not she liked what was happening (though she definitely liked Sam, that she could tell already, even if he was really, really dorky), or if she was just going along with it because of Santana. But as she walked in the door and considered the fact that she was the one who'd even suggested this plan in the first place, she was more inclined to believe that she did like it, did thoroughly enjoy the variety (the understatement of the millennium) that being a part of this strange alien alliance had brought to her life.
"Hey, Deputy?" Mercedes gave a toothy smile and flipped her hair as she approached the long desk inside the front door of the station, trying to hide the fact that she felt sick to her stomach that he'd been with Hummel in the diner the day Santana was shot, that if he was even slightly more intelligent, he'd probably have caught on to what was going on.
"Mornin' Miss Jones." Tanaka shoved the copy of Men's Health that he was engrossed in underneath a stack reports and tipped his hat to Mercedes. "What can I help you with today?"
"I'm so, so sorry to bother you. I know you're probably really busy, but my car seems to have gotten a flat tire, and I have no idea what to do."
"No bother at all. Where are you parked?"
"Just around the block, thank you so much, sir." She nodded, and he smiled at her, grabbing his keys off the counter and locking up the building as they exited. "I'm just going to text my father and let him know I've found someone so capable to help me."
When Brittany's phone buzzed with the alert that the building was locked and Mercedes was outside with Tanaka, Quinn and Sam wasted no time sliding gloves on and climbing up to the second story. Brittany watched from below as Sam waved his hand over the heavy screws that held the bars in place and swung the cage open, giving he and Quinn access to the office. He knew he wasn't as adept at breaking and entering as his accomplice was, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't done his share of it in the past. He was the first to jump down onto the white tile floor, extending his hand for Quinn (even it she insisted on being tough, he was still a gentleman) and pulling her through the window. They were both thankful for the pithy police budget in Roswell as Quinn effortlessly destroyed the tape inside the singular security camera in the office.
"Do you see all the files in here?" Sam looked up at her from the desk drawer. "This is going to take longer than I thought."
"Well quit talking and look faster." She started on the filing cabinet in the corner. "A tire only takes so long to change and I'd like to be long gone by the time Tanaka gets back."
"No shit." He mumbled, careful to look through each and every sheet of paper in case Hummel hid the evidence from his alien hunt among innocuous police files.
"And now, from Roswell, Artesia High School welcomes last year's National Cheerleading Champions, the Cheerios!" The young announcer called out.
Having meticulously arranged the four song routing, Santana raised her pompoms as the opening notes of Outrageous began playing, and couldn't help but replace her show smile with a genuine one as she recalled Brittany's confession that she'd thought for years that her parents had intentionally named her after Britney Spears. Quickly shaking the thought out of her head (because she couldn't be distracted by the alien's inherent cuteness), she turned her attention back to the audience, and zeroed in on Hummel, making sure it didn't look like she was obviously staring at him. Almost immediately, she noticed that he held his phone tightly in his right hand, obviously concerned about leaving his post, even as he focused the majority of his attention on his son.
Right foot, left foot, arms up, bend, shake. Santana internally screamed at herself, never in her life having to focus so intently on not screwing up a routine, but the thought of Brittany so close to danger (even if Mercedes had told her that she wasn't going inside) made every fiber of her being turn to quivering jelly.
"You're very lucky you were going so slow when this happened." Tanaka told Mercedes as he tugged the decimated tire off of the car. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I'd be calling an ambulance for you, instead of changing your tire."
"That's terrifying, Deputy. I'm glad that I'm always careful to follow the laws, I'd hate for something terrible to happen to me or anyone I care about."
"Smart girl. How's your Pop? I've been meaning to make an appointment to get my teeth cleaned, but I've been awful busy with following up on the leads on the Intergalactic Diner incident."
"He's good, thanks." A chill ran down Mercedes' spine at the mention of the shooting, and she couldn't help but glance over to the back of the building where Brittany was carefully hidden from view. "And thanks for working so hard to get to the bottom of that. It was definitely a really scary day over there."
"I'm sure, and I'm sure we'll find them eventually. No one wants criminals like that in Roswell, so someone is bound to come forward with more information."
"I hope so, sir."
"Goddamnit! There's nothing!" Quinn groaned, both hands fisting files about graffiti on the side of Mrs. Hagberg's bakery. "Three chests of files and nothing. It's gotta be here somewhere!"
"I think we should move the furniture. Maybe he's got a safe or something hidden behind."
"Yes!" Quinn shouted, and Sam brought a finger to his lips, reminding her that they were, in fact, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. "Help me get the bookshelf."
"Thank you so much, Deputy Tanaka." Mercedes took hold of his bicep as the re-entered the police station, trying to further distract him (and internally rolling her eyes at her porn-like tactics; ooh, you're so strong, officer much?), because she had not gotten a message from Brittany that Sam and Quinn were safely out of the office. "I have to be at work soon, but do you think maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee as a thanks."
"That's a sweet offer, Miss, but Burt's down in Artesia for the day for his boy's cheerleading, and I'm holding down the fort here."
"Oh, right, I forgot he's on the team with Santana." She lied, trying to think quickly. "And you're sure my car is okay to drive. I mean, not that I don't trust your abilities, you just scared me a little, talking about fatal crashes from tire blowouts."
"I assure you, you're safe, but-"
A loud crash interrupted Tanaka's words, and her heart began hammering at maximum volume in her ears, to the point that she could hardly hear the Deputy telling he't safe in the building, that she needed to get out because be believed security had been breached. As he pushed her out the door, she vaguely registered him dialing his phone (she couldn't think about him calling Hummel, even if he was miles away, she couldn't think about him knowing that someone was in the building), and the moment it clicked shut behind her, Mercedes ran full force to the back of the building, to where Brittany had already started climbing the wall to get to where her brother and Quinn were.
"Brittany!" Mercedes whisper-shouted. "Tanaka knows someone is in the building! You can't go up."
"Exactly why I'm going! I saw you walk back, and I heard the crash. I need to help them. Just keep watch for us!"
Mercedes knew she was powerless, and as Brittany climbed over the ledge and in through the window, she thanked God, with everything in her, that Santana was far away, that Santana had no idea Brittany was in the police station, and that there was no possibility her best friend could get involved and do something reckless and stupid.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" Quinn hissed at Brittany as the taller blonde surveyed the ransacked office. "You're supposed to be keeping watch."
"Tanaka knows someone is in the building. We've gotta go."
"No way. We're this close, we're not going until we get what we came for. If you're in here, start moving shit and help us!"
"Guys!" Sam interrupted them once he'd finished pushing the heavy arms case to the side, pointing at the safe nestled in the wall. "Look."
"Open it. Quick, Sam, get it open." Brittany pleaded, resting her hand against the office doorknob and jamming the lock.
"Who's in there?" Tanaka called from outside the door, as if someone breaking into a police station would actually answer that question, and Brittany was jostled by something heavy banging on the other end. "I'm armed, and I'm going to break down the door!"
"I'm trying to open it." Sam breathed. "However he's got it locked, it's really complicated, even with my powers."
"Move over." Quinn shoved him, and concentrated hard as she attempted, with little success, to manipulate it. "Go if you want, but I'm not leaving without what's in here."
"We're not leaving you." Brittany swore, her voice barely registering volume as she was hit with horrifying images of pickled organs, or wires and probing, of Santana, locked in a jail cell somewhere because she was an alien accomplice. "Sam, get over here and help me put more weight against the door. If he breaks it down, I can't hold him back myself."
Before Santana could see that anything was amiss, she felt it, deep within her gut. Somehow, the connection she had with Brittany was growing rapidly, too rapidly for her to fully understand one thing before another took root, and even from miles away, strong waves of fear and uncertainty, Brittany's fear and uncertainty, began coursing through Santana's blood like a physical entity. She tried to put it aside, to get through the last three minutes of the routine, to be firmly planted on two feet, with access to her cellphone before she panicked, but when she was hoisted up on top of the pyramid, holding her own foot high above her head, that's when she realized she had lost sight of Hummel. Against all logic, she tried to hope that he'd moved his seat, trying to get a closer look at his son, who was doing flips twenty feet below Santana, but she knew that the fear that was overtaking her suggested at Brittany was in trouble, that somehow, even with distractions and planning, they'd been caught in the act. Santana tried to keep on her megawatt smile, tried to just finish so she could feign illness and get her parents to drive her home, but when all she could picture in her mind was something terrible (computer images of autopsies flashed behind her eyes) happening to the girl she cared so deeply for, she lost her focus and the only knee that was supporting her went weak. Before she could stop it, she began a long tumble to the ground, and even as her right side made hit damp earth with a sickening thud, and excruciating pain radiated through her midsection, all she could think of was one thing, all she could think of was Brittany, Brittany, Brittany.
