"I am the only one that believes her. Mr. Shue totally thinks she's guilty," Brittany says as she is getting her nails done.
As Paulette is about to comment, her attention is diverted to the door. Brittany watches with a confused look as she tries to figure out what Paulette is mouthing. Finally, she turns around to see a short Asian man looking their way.
Brittany watches as Paulette blushes when the Asian man makes their way over to them.
"I've got a package."
When Paulette has not said anything, Brittany repeats what he had said, "He's got a package."
Brittany and the Asian man wait, but Paulette attempts to accept the pen being offered to her so she can sign for the package. Unsure of what to do, the Asia man turns to Brittany and offers her the pen so that she can sign it. Britany looks over at Paulette, trying to get her to speak and make a move as she does so.
Thankfully, the short Asian man speaks to Paulette.
"How are you doing today?" Brittany hears him say.
"Fine," Paulette says with a stiff smile.
After she signs, the Asian man puts the package down on the floor.
"Take it easy," he says, looking directly at Paulette, "Enjoy," he adds before he turns to leave.
As soon as he exits the salon, Brittany turns to Paulette.
"That's great, Paulette. Is that the only interaction you two have had?"
"No, sometimes I say okay instead of fine," Paulette explains.
"Well, why don't you offer him a cold beverage or a neck massage or something?"
"Come on," Paulette says with sadness. "What's the point?" She says with defeat evident on her face.
"Trust me, Paulette, you have all the equipment. You just need to read the manual. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Paulette looks at her, confused, not understanding what Brittany is saying. She shook her head.
"I am going to teach you a trick that my mother taught me in middle school. In my experience, it has a 98% success rate of getting a man's attention. When used appropriately, it has an 83% rate of dinner invitations."
Brittany gets up and walks to the center of the room. She glides her hand down her leg and then quickly straightens her posture and tucks her hand under her armpits, emphasizing her breasts.
"It's called the bend and snaps."
Brittany demonstrates the maneuver again.
"Down," She says as she glides her hand down to pretend to pick something up, "and snap," she says as she stands up again.
Soon, Paulette and the other women in the salon join. One by one, they all practice the bend and snap. Finally, Chandler, the hairdresser, enters the room and stirs a hair color mixture.
"Oh my God, it's the Bend and Snap. It works every time!"
Brittany and the other interns are having lunch as they work on the case with Professor Schue, Santana, and the other associates. They've been working on the case for weeks, trying to build a case, but without an alibi, they were between a rock and a hard place.
Santana, as Brittany learned, is full of surprises. She is not afraid to speak her mind. There is this aura about her that demands respect. She is dressed to impress and has one heck of a fashion sense. The shorter woman knew how to wear a suit and looked stunning in it. It did not help that Santana oozed sex appeal. Her body screamed sex, sex, sex, and Brittany wanted a lot of it with her.
Brittany licks her lips and shakes her head to focus on what Santana is saying.
"So, if Sugar didn't kill him, who did?"
"My money is on the angry daughter or the ex-wife," Brittany comments.
"She didn't need the insurance payoff or the inheritance," Mr. Schue comments.
"What about the mother?" Another fellow associate comments.
"Covered. She was in Aspen at the time," Mr. Schue informs the group pausing to ask Quinn to get him some plum sauce before continuing," at the Caribou Club."
Quinn and Sam share a look before he shrugs, and she turns to get the requested item.
"All I know is that it is not Sugar," Brittany says.
"That's touching, Britt, but we need an alibi."
Brittany begins to plan on how to go about getting an alibi or anything to help with the case.
The decision to visit Sugar on her own was great as Sugar was happy to see Brittany over anybody else. They talked a bit before Brittany revealed the reason behind her visit.
"You don't understand," Sugar said as tears formed in her eyes.
"Who could understand better than me?" Brittany pressed,
"It's so shameful," Sugar gets out in a whisper.
"Whatever it is, Sugar, it could save you."
"No! That's just it. It could ruin me. I made my fortune on the ability to perfect women's bodies with Sugar's Butt-Buster Workout."
"I know. You helped me get from a size 6 to a size 4."
"That's great!" Sugar said with her voice trembling despite the smile on her face.
"On the day of Carl's Murder," Sugar says before covering her mouth and whispering it.
Brittany couldn't quite make out what she had said, "What?"
Sugar repeats it, but Brittany still could not hear.
"Liposuction!" She says in frustration.
Brittany's eyes widen as she gasps in shock, "No!"
"I know! I'm a fraud! It's not natural for women to have this as. If my fans knew that I bought it, I would lose everything!" Sugar cries and mutters something about having Asperger's under her breath. "I've already lost my husband. I'd rather go to jail than to lose my reputation."
Brittany's heart breaks for her sorority sister.
"Sugar, your secret is safe with me."
Everyone is sitting around the large table. Books and papers are scattered everywhere. Pens move along the paper as the students and associates write down their notes. Fingers move along the keyboards as they type away on their laptops. The quiet atmosphere is broken when the doors open.
"Quinn, get me some coffee," Mr. Schue says as he enters the meeting room.
Quinn sighs before moving to get Mr. Schue a coffee.
"We have two interviews that Jake and Finn are going to handle. The ex-wife in an hour. According to this communique from the prison, Sugar apparently had a visit from her sister, a Miss Delta Nu."
Brittany sneaks a glance at Santana before anyone else smirks.
"Anyone, you know?" Mr. Schue asked.
Brittany looked at him and confessed.
"Yes, I went to visit her."
"What the hell do you mean you went to visit her?"
"Well, I went to get an alibi."
"Did you get it?"
Brittany nods happily before saying, "It's a really good one," Brittan says with a smile as she looks at Santana, who smiles before snickering. This only makes Brittany smile more.
"Okay, well, what is it?" Mr. Schue says, oblivious to their little moment.
"Oh, I can't tell you."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because I promised her, I wouldn't, and I can't break the bonds of sisterhood."
"Screw sisterhood!" Mr. Schue yells as he drinks his coffee. "This is a murder trial, not some scandal at the sorority house. I want that alibi!"
"Well, I can't tell you, but I can tell you that she's innocent."
Emma, Mr. Schue's secretary, enters the room as the tension is thick in the air.
"Mrs. Holliday is on line 2 for you," Emma says.
"Someone reason with her while I take this," he says before leaving the room to take the call from Carl's ex-wife.
Brittany pushed back against the pressure from the other associates and her peers, even Sam, who suggested that she could get hired as a summer associate.
"If we can't prove her innocence without an alibi, then we are not very good lawyers."
"Think of yourself," He encourages some more.
"I gave her my word, Sam," she says in response.
"So, what?" Quinn overhears this and furrows her eyebrows. She's never heard him all in such a manner.
Mr. Shue re-enters the room when his call is over.
"His ex-wife seems to be unconcerned with the fact that her interview is today. She is at a spa."
"A Spa? Isn't that like your mother ship?" Artie, another associate, asks Brittany with a fake valley-girl accent in a bit of a condescending tone.
"I can go if you want?" Brittany announces to the room, ignoring Artie.
"Santana?"
"Yeah?"
"Go with her."
Santana packs her things up as Brittany does the same without a second thought.
The air is thick between Santana and Brittany as they ride in the car. Neither has said a word. This is the first time the two of them have been alone since Brittany was got the internship and consequently found out that Santana was not a law student but an associate.
"So, when were you going to tell me?" Brittany finally asks, not being able to take the silence much longer.
"I wanted to tell you. I tried. Remember your first day? Sam interrupted. There more I got to know you, the harder it was to tell you because I didn't want to seem different. You're one of the few people at this school who doesn't piss me off or feels intimidated by me,"
Brittany tries not to read too much between the lines, but her heart can't help it.
"I think you're pretty cool, too. You're one of the few people at the school who doesn't just look at my hair and assume that I am dumb,"
"You're not,' Santana says quickly, almost as if she's afraid Brittany believes that for a second.
"I know," Brittany says with a toothy grin.
"Good," Santana says as she smiles just as big.
"I've been meaning to thank you so much for all your advice. I mean, I am here because of all of your help. For example, the sweater, you told me to dress the part, you told me about the teachers, though told me to have a chip on my shoulder, and you advised me always to carry a copy of my resume. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
"No, Britt. You did this all on your own."
There they are again. The butterflies in her stomach. They are going wild in her stomach to her heart. Her eyes flutter to Santana's lips. Though Santana is focused on the road, she can see their fullness from the side view. God, she wants to turn Santana's face and kiss those lips.
She decides to switch tops to distract the urge to kiss Santana.
"So, who do you think did it?"
"Given the evidence we have, Sugar looks like the primary suspect. Without an alibi, it's hard to prove otherwise."
Even though Santana hadn't pressured her earlier to tell the alibi, and she had just yet, Brittany felt guilty for not sharing.
"It's not my alibi to tell, but you need to trust me; she didn't do it."
"I know, and I do. I'm trying to convince my Mexican-third eye to trust you, but she seems completely untrustworthy to me. I mean, this is a woman who made her living by telling women that they're too fat."
"Sugar would never tell a woman she was too fat. She might ridicule them for other things and blame Asperger's by she would never tell a woman she was too fat."
"And she seems to me like she's hiding something. I am a judgmental bitch and a kick-ass lawyer; I know she's hiding something."
"But maybe it's not what you think."
"Maybe it's exactly what I think."
"You know, you're really being Butthead," Brittany says with a smile.
"A Butthead?" Santana asks with a smile, "Why would you call me that?"
"San, you need to have a little more faith in people. You might be surprised."
Instead of telling Brittany that she has faith in her, Santana says, "I can't believe you just called me a butthead. No one's called me that since the 9th grade."
"Not to your face, no way," She says as she smiles widely.
Santana can't help but chuckle.
Their conversation ends as Santana pulls her car into the parking lot.
"She's probably going to be in the mudroom," Brittany says.
After the interview tied Carl's ex-wife, Brittany and Santana made their way to Santana's car. Carl's ex-wife had mentioned that she and Carl's daughter hated Sugar and that they humped like gorillas. She also insinuated that Sugar was having an affair with the pool boy.
"She is lying; Sugar would never do that?"
"And you know this for a fact?"
"Did you see the icky brown color of her hair?"
"Hey! What's wrong with being a brunette?" Santana asks, pretending to be offended.
"Nothing," Brittany says with a smile.
"Yea, that's what I thought," Santana says.
"It's just that I have been discriminated against because I am a blonde. Some people see my hair and already have some judgments about me and my intelligence,"
"Well, some people are stupid. You are not. You are a genius, Brittany. I haven't known you long, and I know this. You hold more cards than you think you do. I would like to see you believe in your awesome self,"
Brittany smiles at the compliment as butterflies flutter in her stomach. There is no conviction in Santana's comment. That makes her feel confident.
"How would I look as a blonde?" Santana asks, switching the conversation as Brittany had not replied.
"Mhm," Brittany says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, "I'm not sure you'd pull it off."
Santana shoves her playfully as she gasps in mock offense.
"You're a meanie."
"A meanie? I can't believe you called me meanie. No, ones called me. Meanie since the 9th grade." Brittany retorts, recalling Santana's earlier words.
"Not to your face, no way," Santana said, laughing.
The two continued their playful banter before talking about other things during the car ride. There were times when silence would happen, but it was a comfortable silence. Santana made her feel comfortable and accepted. There was never a dull moment. Brittany had never felt that way before.
It is nighttime, yet the time they arrive back on campus. Santana parks her car, and they sit in silence.
Brittany and Santana turn to each other and lock eyes. Brittany licks her lips. This magnetism tells her to lean over, close the distance, and kiss Santana, but she isn't sure if Santana feels the same. Can Santana feel the attraction between them? Is it all in Brittany's head? There is no sure way unless one of them made a move, but Santana is Mr. Schue's associate. Brittany is a student. Would Santana be okay with breaking that boundary? Brittany didn't know. She opts to lean in and hug her to thank her. Thankfully, Santana welcomes it and wraps her arms around her. Brittany notes that the two hold on longer than usual despite the awkward angle.
Brittany can feel Santana dig her head in her shoulder, and Brittany takes the opportunity to soak in the feeling of being in Santana's arms as Santana's intoxicating scent surrounds her.
Santana pulls away, but Brittany is not ready and pulls her close and rests her forehead on Santana's. Both sigh and close their eyes. Santana has to feel the same, Brittany thinks.
"Britt, I want to. I do. I so do. I just," Santana confirms in the softest voice Brittany has ever heard her use after a moment.
"I know," is all Brittany says, and she does.
The timing is off. They can't do anything, for now.
After a few moments, they pull away, but not before Santana cups Brittany's cheek. Brittany watches as Santana's tongue follows her thumb as she traces Brittany's lower lip. Dark, brown eyes meet hers anew.
"Have a good night, okay?"
Brittany nods, "Okay,"
Brittany exits the car and closes the door. The two share a smile.
"I will see you tomorrow," Santana says with a smile.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, Brittany turns around. She licks her lower lip. A smile is on her face before she can know it. Her heart feels so full, and her stomach has butterflies fluttering all over. She feels like she can fly. Santana feels the same. Although she wishes they could be more, she is okay with knowing Santana feels the same. It's not all in her head.
Her feet are light as she makes her way towards the entrance to the dorm rooms; she hears Rory asking a girl who was with her friend out.
"You're a dork; why would I go out with you?" Brittany heard the girl ask.
"Well, I'm in law school,"
"Look, I am not going to go out with you. I can't believe you'd even ask. Losers like you don't go out with girls like me."
Brittany stops in her tracks when the two girls laugh at him. She'd been the same thought process once upon a time. She was lucky to have outgrown that. She turns around and walks up to him with a stern look.
"Excuse me," She says as she approaches them before slapping Rory on the face.
The two women observe the scene unfolding in front of them. Rory is understandably confused.
"Why didn't you call me?"
Rory's face distorts in confusion, "What?"
"We spend a beautiful night together, and then I never hear from you again," Brittany says, pretending to be angry.
"I am sorry," Rory says with uncertainty.
"Sorry for what? Forgiving me the greatest pleasure or for taking to away?"
"Uh," Rory has no idea what she is talking about but apologizes anyway, "Both?"
"Well, forget it; I've already spent too many nights crying over you."
She turns around and walks away, smiling as she does so.
"So, when did you want to go out?" Brittany hears the girl ask from a distance.
Brittany is sitting on her chair, reading, looking over the deposition she's been reading, when she hears a knock on the door. It strikes has as odd since Santana and Paulette are the only people she has gotten close to. The two often usually let them know when they were coming over. She knew it couldn't be Santana because she left not long ago, and she knew it wasn't Paulette.
"Come in," She says.
To her surprise, it is Quinn.
"Hey, are you finished reading the deposition?" Quinn asks
"Oh yeah," Brittany says as she closes and sets it on the table for Quinn, "I've read it at least 20 times."
"Okay," Quinn responds and retrieves it.
She turns to walk but turns around.
"You know, I can't believe you didn't tell Mr. Schue the alibi."
"It's not my alibi to tell."
"I know. I thought it was real classy of you," Quinn says.
Brittany is unsure of what Quinn's angle is, "Yeah?"
Brittany observes Quinn. When Brittany thinks their conversation is over, Quinn continues.
"You know ever notice how Mr. Schue never asks Sam to bring him coffee? I mean, he's asked me at least 10times," Quinn says.
Brittany smiles. This is a new side to Quinn she hasn't seen. She welcomes the change.
"Men are helpless. You know that" Brittany offers with a smile as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Quinn sits down, and, for the first time, Brittany sees a genuine smile, "I know, Sam doesn't even do his own laundry."
"I know has to get it sent out."
"I know," Quinn says, laughing. But, she continues, "You know when Sam first applied, he got waitlisted."
"What?" Brittany says in shock.
Quinn nods and gets closet, feeling more comfortable than ever.
"His father had to make a few calls."
"You're kidding?"
With all the crap Sam was giving her about her grades, she felt validated.
Quinn shakes her head to say that she is not kidding. She laughs.
Brittany chuckles, too, but shakes her head at the information. Sam made her feel like she wasn't smart enough, and he had been the one to get waitlisted.
Their conversation changes topic when Quinn notices Lord Tubbington.
"He's a cute cat."
"His name is Lord Tubbington. Do you want to hold him? He is very friendly."
Quinn is unsure, but she reaches out and takes Lord Tubbington into her arms. He locks Quinn's face instantly.
"Oh, look, he likes you."
Brittany smiles not only at the interaction between her cat and Quinn but that Quinn isn't as bad a person as she thought she was. Quinn was pretty cool. Her fantastic day just got better at the thought of her and Quinn becoming friends.