Chapter Four:
"Girl, she was totally flirting with you."
"No, she totally wasn't."
It was Thursday and Santana had met up with Mercedes for lunch at a Starbucks around the corner from the office.
Mercedes worked as a music producer for an independent record label in Brooklyn. Their busy schedules meant that the former roommates didn't get to see each other as often as they would like, but they always reserved Thursday afternoons for a catch-up over coffee.
It had been three days since Brittany's comment about her sexuality, and both she and Santana had been so busy putting the finishing touches to tomorrow's big pitch that neither of them had mentioned it since.
"She was probably just messing with me." Santana shrugged through a mouthful of panini. "I mean, she didn't even explicitly state that she was into women."
Mercedes clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "S, you're a very smart girl, and you know that I love you, but sometimes you can be a complete idiot. Brittany is hardly going to stand in the middle of the office and shout 'I love vagina!' at the top of her lungs.
"Cedes!" Santana spluttered, choking on her latte.
The producer chuckled as she leant forward to bang her friend hard on the back. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day that you got offended by the word vagina. Are you blushing?"
And then after a beat. "Oh my god. You're totally crushing on Brittany, aren't you?"
"Don't be ridiculous! Of course I'm not." The Latina shrieked indignantly. "I don't even like the girl. It's just that…"
The brunette trailed off as she spotted a familiar leggy blonde ringing up her order at the till.
"Just that what?"
"Be quiet." Santana hissed.
"Why? San, what's the matter?
"Just shut the fuck up Mercedes!"
But it was too late. Brittany had turned around and, after a moment's hesitation, started to make a beeline for their table.
Mercedes let out a low whistle. "Is that her? Wow. You know, I've always preferred the D to the V, but even I would like a slice of that."
Santana kicked the other woman hard under the table as the blonde came to a stop in front of them.
"Santana."
"Um, hi."
The Latina almost received a slap in the face as her friend shot her hand eagerly towards Brittany.
"Mercedes Jones. Record producer extraordinaire and Santana's long-suffering BFF."
The blonde grinned as she returned the handshake. "Brittany Pierce. Semi-decent lawyer and Santana's recently-suffering colleague."
"Hey! I'm sat right here you know." The Latina protested feebly.
Brittany turned to her with a quizzical expression. "Are you okay Santana? Your face is kinda red."
"Yeah San, are you okay?" Mercedes breathed mockingly.
"I'm fine!" Santana snapped. "It's just really warm in here."
"Double Espresso for Brittany?" Called the guy from behind the checkout.
"That's my cue." The blonde said with one last pointed look at the Latina. "Santana, I guess I'll see you back at the office. It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Jones."
"Oh, believe me." Mercedes smirked. "The pleasure was all mine."
With that, Brittany turned on her heel and left. When Santana finally dragged her eyes away from the blonde's retreating ass, Mercedes was looking at her a devilish grin.
"Don't."
"I was right! You are totally crushing on her."
Santana spent the rest of the afternoon feeling uneasy. Mercedes was completely wide of the mark. Santana Lopez didn't crush on anyone. Yes, Brittany was incredibly attractive. And sure, the Latina had dreamt about licking melted chocolate off of the blonde's oh-so-perfect abs. But Santana was a hot-blooded woman and she blamed her conflicting emotions on her recent dry spell. She really needed to do something about that.
Santana had planned to go home and get an early night before next day's big presentation, but by the time she left the office at six o'clock, her mind was still racing. So, when Quinn called and asked her to come over for a Sex and the City marathon, she readily agreed.
It was almost eleven by the time the brunette had made it back to her block. She was just about to head into her apartment when she noticed two guys staggering down the street with a wasted-looking girl draped between them.
Santana was going to let it go until the trio got closer and she saw that the girl was completely out of it. She was blonde, and scantily clad in jean shorts and a mesh top, which had ridden up to just below her bra.
"Shit, dude." One of the guys said. "I really think we should just put her in a cab."
"Fuck that." The taller man responded. "She'll be fine once we get her back to my place. She's already sobering up. Aren't you sweetheart?"
The blonde responded with an incoherent grunt and Santana stepped across the trio's path.
"What the fuck is going on here?"
"Look lady." The taller guy sneered. "We're just going home for a little private party. You're welcome to join us. But if not, I suggest you move out of the way."
In the glow of the streetlamp, Santana could see that the guys were only young. Early twenties maybe? And the blonde couldn't have been any more than eighteen.
"You guys want me to call the cops?" the Latina fixed her gaze firmly on the small guy who was looking at the ground and shifting uncomfortably.
"You wouldn't." The other guy laughed.
"Oh really? You want to stick around to find out?"
The two men exchanged awkward glances before loosening their grip on the blonde, who slumped like a ragdoll towards Santana.
The Latina shifted so that the younger girl's arm draped across her shoulders.
"Hey, we were only messing around." Mumbled the smaller guy "We weren't going to do anything."
"Listen shit-for-brains, I don't give a flying fuck what you have to say for yourself. I suggest that you and your friend here get your sorry asses off my block before I dial 911."
With that, the two men walked briskly away from the Latina as she turned towards her apartment block with a sigh.
"Let's get you cleaned up hey?" she murmured softly to the blonde as she headed inside.
The younger girl was only slight, but she was putting all of her weight on Santana and by the time the pair had gotten upstairs, the brunette was panting heavily.
I could really do without this tonight, Santana thought wearily.
Setting the girl down on the sofa, Santana headed to the kitchen for a glass of water and a bagel.
"Here." The Latina said, kneeling in front of the girl and tugging gently on her hands until she was sitting upright. "Drink up."
Santana watched as the blonde gulped down the water, eyeing her warily. There was something strangely familiar about her, but Santana was convinced that they'd never met.
"Did those guys hurt you?" Santana asked, looking earnestly into the girls blue eyes.
The blonde shook her head as a fat tear slid down her cheek and plopped onto her bare knee. "Bri-Bri gon kill me." She garbled as sobs started to wrack her body.
"Shh, its okay." Santana whispered soothingly as she sat beside the girl and pulled her into an awkward hug. "How old are you?"
The blonde looked down at the carpet timidly.
"Don't worry. I'm not a cop." Santana said with a wry smile.
"Seventeen." The girl whispered.
Jesus. "Where do you live? Can you call your parents?"
At the mention of parents, the blonde resumed her sobbing. "Jus mah sister." The blonde choked out.
"Could your sister come and get you? Have you got her number?"
The blonde reached into her pocket for her phone and began clumsily swiping at the screen. After a few seconds, Santana heard a dialing tone and gently prised the phone out of the girl's hand.
"Olivia!" A frantic voice crackled down the line. "Where the fuck are you? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Liv, are you there?
"Um, its not Olivia. I, er, found your sister in pretty bad state near my apartment block and brought her inside. Don't worry, she's safe. I'm not, like, a serial killer or anything. She said that you'd be able to come get her?"
"Santana?"
The Latina felt her heart skip a beat as- almost in slow motion- she checked the caller ID. "Brittany?"
"Jesus Christ, what happened? Is Olivia okay?"
Santana looked at the young blonde who was now passed out on her sofa.
"She's fine." Santana said softly, taking off her coat and draping it over Olivia. "If I text you my address, can you come and pick her up? I'll explain everything when you get here."
"Um, yeah of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."
The line went dead, and Santana quickly typed out her address before pressing send on a message to Brittany.
Less than 20 minutes later, there was a loud knock on the door.
"That was quick." Santana said as Brittany brushed past her distractedly.
"I didn't want to wait for a cab. Sam was asleep so I borrowed his car."
"Britt-Britt?" Olivia croaked groggily from the sofa. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, baby." Brittany cooed as she stooped to sweep her sister into her arms. "I'm here now. I've got you."
For a few minutes, the two blondes just held each other while the younger girl sobbed. Santana felt like she was intruding on a private moment and was about to head into the kitchen when Olivia's voice stopped her.
"Could I, er, use the bathroom please?"
"Of course." Santana smiled. "It's just down the hall."
Olivia nodded meekly and followed the Latina's directions, leaving the other women stood awkwardly in the lounge.
"She was with these two guys. They looked a bit shady, but Olivia said they didn't hurt her –'
In a flash, Brittany had closed the distance between them and flung her arms around Santana's neck. The Latina tensed for a second before relaxing into the hug, letting herself get swept up in the intoxicating scent of the blonde's perfume.
"Thank you." Brittany whispered hoarsely, pulling back a little. "If you hadn't been there then god knows what would have happened…" The blonde trailed off as her eyes filled with tears.
Santana pulled the blonde back into her, stroking hand down her back comfortingly. "Shh. Don't think about that. She's safe now. That's the main thing."
The brunette closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Brittany shuddered against her. She really did smell amazing, like strawberries and flowers and…. alcohol.
"Brittany, have you been drinking?"
The blonde stiffened as panic flashed across her face. "I, er, was just having a glass of wine to help relax before tomorrow. But then when Liv wasn't answering her phone, I was out of my mind and I-'
"Britt, are you okay?" Olivia asked, appearing in the doorway.
The two women quickly sprang apart, and Brittany plastered on a false smile as she brushed away a tear. "I'm fine. Come on trouble, let's get you home."
"You're not driving. I'll order you a cab." Said Santana.
"Santana it's fine-'
"I'm calling you a cab." The Latina said firmly, placing a hand on Brittany's bicep. "Sam can come and pick the car up tomorrow."
The blonde gave a grateful smile as Santana punched a number into her phone.
Ten minutes later, Olivia spoke from her spot next to the window.
"Britt, I think the taxi's here."
"You go on down. I'll be with you in a minute."
Olivia turned to smile shyly at Santana. "Thank you. You know, um, for helping me."
"Anytime. Look after yourself, okay?" Santana called, as the younger girl nodded and slipped out of the apartment.
There was silence for a few seconds as Brittany wrung her hands nervously. "Liv has had a really tough time these last few years. She's not usually like this. It's just that there's only the two of us now and…"
"Brittany, you don't have to explain yourself to me. Just make sure that you both get some rest, yeah? We've got a big day tomorrow."
The blonde smiled wearily and turned to leave. "Santana? You won't, er, tell anyone about all this will you? I mean, if it got out about me driving then-'
"I won't tell anyone. I promise. Night Brittany."
"Night Santana." The blonde left, clicking the door shut behind her.
Santana sighed, raking a hand through her hair as she made for the bedroom. Just as she was about to get into bed, her phone rang. Quinn.
"Listen Fabray. If you're ringing to ask me whether I'd rather bone Mr Big or Aidan, then I'm going to go all Lima Heights on your bony ass."
"Actually, that's not why I'm calling. Although I would like to know your answer to that question…'
"Quinn!"
"Okay! Sorry. Don't kill me, but Tina overheard a pretty interesting conversation between Will and Brittany this morning."
"And I care because?"
"He was waxing lyrical about how impressed him and the board had been with her work."
"Okayyy"
"And he asked if she'd like to be seriously considered for the promotion."
Santana froze. "What did she say?"
"Tina didn't hear everything, but from the sound of things she seemed pretty keen."
This couldn't be happening. The senior associate job was hers; everyone knew that. Brittany knew that. Santana felt sick.
"I'm going to bed Q. I have to be up early in the morning."
Santana hung up and pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. She didn't know what to do.
As she undressed, she spotted the leather notebook sitting on her dressing table. She hadn't written anything in it since Monday morning, when she'd spotted a small tattoo of a duck on Brittany's left ankle.
The blonde was right. If it got out that she'd been drink-driving, or that a minor in her care was walking the streets of New York wasted, she could lose her job.
Santana knew that she should just forget about it. She'd win the promotion fair and square. She was just as good at her job as the blonde, if not better. Besides, she'd given Brittany her word.
She wondered, if the shoe were on the other foot, would Brittany show her the same loyalty? She clearly didn't care that Santana had been working for this promotion for months; for years even.
Santana looked again at the notebook. It surely wouldn't hurt to make a note of the night's events, the Latina thought. Just in case.
And so, taking a deep breath, Santana picked up the pen and stated writing.