You hope that your second day goes better than your first. To be honest it's gonna be pretty hard to be worse. Your shift had only lasted four hours yet somehow in those four hours you managed to make a pretty girl sort of hate you, have two customers shout at you, dropped a bottle of wine and fell off a step ladder when grabbing something off the top shelf for a customer. At least the last one had made Santana laugh. You liked seeing her laugh and you really liked seeing her blush and act all shy when you told her she had cute dimples. You hope you can make her laugh more, even if you have to fall off more step ladders in order to do that.

You're nervous about seeing Santana again. You know she's still mad about what you said, but you know she has every right to be since you pretty much degraded her entire life. But despite either being pretty hostile towards you or just straight up ignoring your existence, there were a couple of times when you had joked around and laughed together, mainly about making fun of the customers, you kind of felt bad at first until you realized that they don't actually have any respect for store workers. Santana had also defended you against one of the customers that had shouted at you and had told them it was your first day and to either have some respect or get the fuck out. You liked angry Santana a lot more when her anger wasn't directed at you. Perhaps you two might actually be friends, or at least maybe one day you will be. You hoped so since you don't really have any friends here. Or anywhere. She also seemed like the type of friend who would always have your back no matter what and she also made you laugh a lot which is always a plus.

Stepping into the locker room you found Santana looking into a compact mirror, applying lip gloss that made her lips really shiny, with her hair in a ponytail and her company red waist coat over her black blouse. You're positive that she's the only person that could pull off the waistcoat without looking like a toddler at a wedding and she also looked really professional, no wonder she's the floor manager, she can also be pretty bossy which is also good but according to her it makes her get shit done. She's a natural born leader.

"Hey, Santana." You mumble, opening your own locker and putting on your waistcoat over your blue top. You watch her rub her lips together before putting the cap back onto her lip gloss and placing it into her back pocket.

You shut your locker, about to turn away, accepting that she's going to ignore you again today, when you hear another locker slam.

"Hey," She responds, her tone even, and walks alongside you as you both walk out into the main part of the store, "I've already told everyone what department they're in today and i'm gonna put you in the Beauty Department with me. I still want to keep an eye on you, to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, awesome." You croak, following the brunette towards the beauty counter, gulping when you realize that you're going to be stuck on the box shaped counter and basically trapped for five hours with your kind of boss.

You're not really sure how you feel about spending so much time with Santana and in such a small area. It's kind of bittersweet because on one hand you're mood is in check today so you can actually be yourself and prove to Santana that you're really not a stuck up bitch and are nice and pretty funny sometimes, at least that's what other people say about you, but on the other hand Santana makes you really nervous since she can be scary and she gets angry and shouts easily, she's also really pretty and you're never normally nervous around pretty girls but for some reason this pretty girl makes your brain stop working. This just means that you're more likely to screw things up and make a fool of yourself which will make Santana hate you even more and you definitely don't want that to happen.

"Was that sarcasm, Pierce?"

Shit, you've pissed her off already. On the brightside she cares enough about you to remember your last name. That's a good thing, maybe she might follow you on Instagram now.

"Huh? N-no it really is awesome. I mean, getting paid to put makeup on people sounds fun."

"Oh, sweetie," She turns to face you and you're pretty sure your heart just stopped at the pet name, even if you know she meant it in a sarcastic way. "That's what I thought on my first shift too but I learned fast that they're all bitches who always have something to complain about even though they themselves can't actually do their own makeup. You have no idea how many times I wanted to stab them in the eye when doing their eyeliner."

Ouch. That really does hurt too, you've done it more times than you want to admit. Not on purpose though, it's not like you have a weird eye pain fetish, would be creepy.

"I've only done it once though." She laughs and rolls her eyes, "Bitch tried to sue me"

"Really? What happened?"

"She dropped the case when my lawyer pointed out that she had been shouting at me as if I wasn't holding a pencil near her eye." She scoffs, picking up a nail file, you hope that's like a staff one or something and not one that gets used on customers. "Like I was only fucking seventeen, how could she sue me? I had about ten dollars to my name."

She's still really pissed about the situation. You don't blame her, you would be too.

"Seventeen?" You're shocked to hear that she started working here so young and can't help but wonder how long she's been here, "That was what? A few yea-"

"Six years ago." She answers.

"So you're twenty-three?"

"Yup." She confirms, not looking up from her nails.

"Th-thats a long time. Six years." You cringe and hope she doesn't take it the wrong way.

"I'm aware.

Anyway, enough about me and my life, you can now have your own bad experiences, let's get to work, Blondie." She smiles as if she wasn't ranting a minute ago and all you can do is pray that you don't actually have any bad experiences unlike Santana who looks like she's pleased that you look like you're gonna throw up.

Also Blondie?

Maybe she's forgotten your first name already, but at least you have a name tag now so that if she does need to remember it, all she has to do is look at your boob to know. Win win.

It's been about three hours and you're really fucking bored. It turns out that weekdays are really quiet and you've only spoken to one customer who just wanted a new lipstick but had wanted Santana to serve her since she was a regular and didn't trust you since she's never seen you before, that was probably a good idea on her behalf.

Really fucking bored is probably an understatement. It doesn't really help that all you do is stare at the clock and that Santana hasn't actually spoken to you since the start, all she's done is sat on a small stoll that's in the corner of the counter and played on her phone. You left your phone in your locker, sure that if you get caught with it, you'll be fired but apparently not. Then again Santana is a kind of boss.

There's music on in the store that you focus on but when you realize that it's the fourth time that hour it's been played you turn your attention to something else.

Like Santana.

You glance to her, then to the empty department and then back to Santana.

It's awkward. Like the kind of awkward where you keep opening your mouth to start a conversation but then realize that would make it even more awkward and the last thing you want to do is make things worse.

You're normally good with people. You're a people person. When you first meet someone, sure you get anxious by them and are scared to talk to them in case you say the wrong thing but you've known Santana for two days and you're normally past the awkward stage by now.

Letting out a sigh and seeing if Santana decides to look up and ask what's wrong, she doesn't, you just focus your eyes on all the color eyeshadows while trying to think of conversation starters. Like how was her night? What happened that made her not go to NYU? Maybe that one's too personal. Has someone died in the store before? You've yet to find that one out and are getting more curious at the fact that no one has given you an answer.

You huff at yourself knowing any conversation will be awkward. You made a question asking how old she was awkward and it's just going to get worse after three hours of not speaking.

You're smiling at a woman walks into the department before disappearing back out just as fast when you hear it. You're not sure what it is until you hear it for a third time.

It's soft and quiet and weirdly cute and you can't help but smile as you look out of the corner of your eye to look at Santana and you notice that her shoulders lift up before going back down just as fast when the sound comes out of her mouth.

Santana had the hiccups.

"You have the hiccups." You point out.

"No shit." She mutters and doesn't even lift her eyes from her phone.

"Can I scare you?"

"What?" She scowls, still typing away.

"Can I scare you? You know to get rid of the hiccups. It works. I've done it before." You explain out, smiling when she finally lifts her head up, eyebrows furrowing even more.

"I know what you meant, but still no." You pout and she rolls her eyes at you before continuing, "Look I already know you're gonna scare me so now I won't be scared when you do it."

Well that does make sense.

"Oh, maybe not then." You frown and turn back to watch the non existence customers, seriously what is the point of coming in today. You frown when yet another customer just walks through the department without looking at anything, apparently it's a short cut to the deli, but before they leave you smile and all they do in return is look at you like you've kicked their cat. You would never do that.

You can still hear the hiccups coming from the corner behind you, however, they're a lot quieter now and it's obvious to you that she's trying to hide them, which is silly, you can't hide the hiccups.

You haven't even properly thought your plan through when you impulsively yell boo while jumping towards her.

It definitely scared her. She let out a squeak and her big, brown eyes widened. You would have been proud of yourself if it wasn't for the fact that she had punched you in the stomach.

Like really hard.

So maybe your second day can't be better than your first.

"Oh, my God, Brittany. I am so sorry." Santana pleads, standing up and hovers over you, but instead of focusing on the pain all you can focus on is the soft hand on your back as you're hovered over, and the fact that she does remember your name.

"Here, sit down." She offers and tries to push you towards the chair she had been occupying for the couple hours.

"No, I'm good. Guess I deserved that." You moan and try to unwind yourself.

"You didn't. Shit, you want me to go get you a bag of frozen peas or something. We have loads." She laughs. You guess getting punched in the stomach was worth it just to hear her laugh for the first time today.

"No, I'm good thanks." You breathe out as you stand up straight. "Hey, your hiccups are gone."

"So, they are."

"And you said scaring you wouldn't work." You smirk, but then return the soft smile that Santana is giving you.

"Only if I knew you were going to scare me, which I didn't." She argues and you're about to reply when a customer comes over asking Santana to help her find the beauty blenders.

Seriously? She couldn't have come when you were about to play dot-to-to with the freckles on your arm?

The brunette just puts on an obviously fake smile and tells the woman that you'll help her but the woman refuses because she's never seen you before and therefore doesn't trust you. Turns out Arrow's customers are really loyal.

Leaning back against the counter, you watch as Santana waves the customer off and thanks her before turning back to you, "You sure you're okay?"

"You yeah fine." You shrug off. Afterall your breathing has gone back to normal, "Can I ask you a question though?"

"Shoot."

"Do you hate me?" You mumble, "It's just that you've pretty much ignored me all day and I wouldn't blame you if you did. I just wanna know."

"No, I don't hate you. Maybe I did yesterday but I figured you're not usually like that and I guess everyone deserves a second chance." She explains, "Sorry about ignoring you too, I guess I just didn't know how to be around you."

"Thanks, and don't worry about that I felt the same way. Maybe we can just, like, be ourselves around each other and just forget about all the awkwardness from before."

"Sure, but as long as we also forget about me punching you in the stomach."

"It's a deal."

You're having your lunch in the break room with Mike, another potential friend along with Santana, talking about some sort of love triangle-square-thing. You're not really sure what's going on, you lost track about three names of people you don't know ago, when Santana walks in and tells you that you're gonna be off the beauty counter and will be stacking shelves for the rest of your shift, which is about four hours. You don't mind it, your back might hurt by the end and you're pretty sure you'll set the record for most items broke, but you get another four hours of trying to make Santana smile and becoming a step closer to being her friend.

After the whole punching you in the stomach thing, Santana had actually started talking to you and awkwardness had instantly disappeared. It was like the rest of the day had never even happened. Santana had even put her phone away and answered your question about what she had done the night before, dinner at her mom's house. She also answered your most asked question, so you finally found out that someone had indeed died in the store. Actually she told you multiple people had died in the store and you hope that you're not next and had told her to never let you use the forklift in storage or use a ladder bigger than two foot.

Or just sit on a couch apparently?

However, your mood quickly goes down when she tells you that you're going to be stocking the shelves alone since she has 'floor boss stuff' to do and there's not enough people to help you.

"Don't pout, Britt." She smiles and suddenly your mood goes back up, your pout has gone and you're grinning.

"What?"

"You called me Britt."

You grin and have to bite your lip in order to stop yourself from smiling too big, not wanting to creep Santana out.

"Oh, is that okay? I heard Mike call you it and assumed you liked to be called that. I'll stop if you wa-"

"Santana!" You interrupt, giggling as she jumps. Maybe she just scares easily. "You can call me Britt, actually can call me whatever you want, as long as it's not mean."

"Got it." She nods.

She takes a seat next to you where Mike had been sitting previously. You hadn't even realized he had left.

"Are you gonna be okay by yourself? I can get someone to help you if you want?" She asks.

"I think i'll be okay." Or at least you hope you will. "Plus the less people who see me embarrass myself by falling off step ladders the better."

"Okay, but if you need any help finding stuff just let someone know and if they don't help you, come find me."

"And what will you do?"

"Kick their ass." She smirks, resting her chin on her hand.

How can she kick someone's ass? She's so tiny. Maybe she'll stick an eyeliner pencil in their eye.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well thank you. I've never had someone offer to kick someone's ass for me before."

"I'm honoured to be your first." Her eyes instantly widen and she do yours once you've acknowledged what she actually said,

"N-not like that. I-I meant that-" She stutters.

"I know what you meant."

You reply and see her breathe out a sigh of relief and you're hoping it's not going to be awkward again. That's the last thing you want, "Plus you wouldn't be my first anyway. You wouldn't even be my first with a girl."

Okay, now it's gonna be awkward.

"H-how about we just get back to work. I'll show you where the boxes are."

Picking up what seems to be the millionth bottle of shampoo you've stocked today, you let out a yawn as you place it onto the shelf while also trying to avoid knocking any others over. Refilling shelves is a lot harder than you thought it was gonna be.

You place your hand over your mouth before smiling at the sound of heels clicking behind you and the smell of vanilla body spray that you've noticed only belongs to one brown eyed, beautiful Latina.

"How's it going?" She asks, giving you a hand as you step down off the ladder. Something about her coming to check on you makes you feel giddy inside. Even if that's just her job.

"Good, really good."

"You don't have to lie, Britt."

"I'm not lying, I swear." You spit out and your heart beats faster because you're definitely lying. Your entire body is hurting from bending over and stretching and from using the ladder. You haven't exactly done any exercise lately. Plus you got bored about four minutes into the job and you're not very good at being on your own. You need someone to talk to or at least to be doing stuff that actually entertains you, which this definitely didn't, also customers looked at you funny when you started talking to yourself.

"Yeah, right." She nods slowly and you know she definitely sees right through you "Well just wanted to let you know that you're free to go once you finish that box."

"Wait- you're firing me? Why? Is it because I lied? Or about the two tubs of yogurt I dropped? I'll pay for them! I'm sorry for scaring you and for the comment about mentioning me sleeping with a girl. I ju-"

"Britt!" She shouts and puts her hands on her shoulders trying to get you to calm down as you're panting. You really need to learn to breathe whilst talking. "You're not fired and none of that stuff matters, okay? You finish in ten minutes anyway and it's pretty quiet. You did really great today."

"Oh, okay, thank you." You sigh out in relief. You really need this job. You also want to work with Santana more. "I'm gonna go and get my stuff then."

You're halfway down the aisle when you realize that Santana is not with you and is heading in the other direction, "Where are you going? The locker rooms this way. Wait, it is this way, right?" You shout.

"Yes, it's that way." She giggles. "And i'm not finished. I have other stuff to do but I will see you tomorrow."

She's about to turn around and go out of your sight when you shout for her again,

"We're friends right, Santana?"

"Do you want to be friends?"

"Of course I do."

"Well then of course we're friends, Britt-Britt."

Britt-Britt?

Her dimples are showing when she sees the confused look on your face. "You told me I can call you whatever I want. I wanna call you Britt-Britt."

And with that she's gone and you stand alone and in shock in the middle of the bathroom products aisle. Which you're kind of glad for considering you can feel the heat on your cheeks and you know you're blushing.

So, maybe your second day was better than your first.

happy 6th brittanaversary :)