A/N: So I'm guessing you guys like this? ;p
Your support is overwhelming :) Thanks so much :)
Yay for Brinn! Lol. You guys love 'em :)
This chapter goes out to naynay1963 – most persistent person I've ever met (over PM) ;p
Enjoy!
Onward and up.
-H
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee :(
CHAPTER 3: A welcome distraction
Brittany squinted at her phone as she paused on the stairs up to her room. She couldn't understand why Santana's message was blurring in front of her eyes,
"Britt, what are you doing?" Quinn chuckled.
"Why can't I read it anymore?" She pouted.
"Because, doofus, you've got the damn thing up against your nose. Besides, you know every word of that text off by heart. You stopped every two minutes during laser tag to read it. Which, may I remind you," Quinn poked Brittany's ribs with a finger, "meant that we got our asses handed to us by a bunch of Justin Biebers."
Brittany looked at her best friend suddenly with a big smile. "Santana has a great ass. Like a really, really great ass. I remember we were talking about asses earlier. We said your ass and my ass and how hot they are and I think Santana's ass is the hottest ass ever. Like ever on this planet. Ever!"
"Got it, B," Quinn said, rolling her eyes. She linked her arm through her drunk friend's. "I knew stopping at that bar was a bad idea."
"Why?" Brittany sang and then giggled. "The bartender gives us free drinks there."
"He gave you free drinks," Quinn corrected. "Someone had to stay sober to get your sorry ass home."
Brittany laughed and squealed at the same time, causing Quinn to look at her in alarm.
"You said ass again!" Brittany clapped her hands in delight.
"Jesus Christ," Quinn muttered, pulling Brittany up the stairs. "I think I prefer you when you're a stripper drunk."
"No, Quinn. You're not allowed to gets all up on this anymore," Brittany said, trying to be serious. "Only Santana. Oh, did I tell you she sent me the best text ever!"
"You got a plan to get into her pants, Blondie?"
Brittany opened her mouth and then closed it again as she frowned in confusion.
"Quinn, that doesn't make sense," she mumbled. Her eyes widened. "How did we get here?"
Quinn guided Brittany to her big bed and pushed her onto it. "Sleep it off, B. We can do a repeat performance tomorrow."
"No, I gotta text her back."
"Oh, no." Quinn quickly stepped in and grabbed Brittany's phone from her hands.
"Quinnie!" Brittany whined, sticking out her bottom lip. "Gimme back!"
"Hell no. If this girl means as much to you as she seems to, you're gonna send her running in the other direction if you send her a drunk text about how perfect you think her ass is."
"But her ass is perfect!" Brittany protested, lifting her arms and flopping them back down on the bed. "So perfect. Round and squeezable. I like watching her walk."
"Yeah, you're definitely not getting this back until the morning," Quinn stated. "She doesn't need to know how much of a stalker you really are."
"It's not my fault I'm drawn to her! You don't know what it's like, Quinnie! It's like…it's like we're connected, like on a different level. Like I have my soul and she has her soul, but we each have a piece of each other's and that's why her music affects me, why she affects me."
Brittany suddenly didn't feel as drunk as she had five minutes ago as her blurted words sunk deep into her conscience.
It was true. That was how she felt. One thing alcohol always did to her was loosen her tongue and make her honest – brutally so.
Quinn was quiet. She just rummaged around in Brittany's dresser for clothes for them to sleep in.
"I think…I think I could fall in love with her," Brittany murmured.
"Little early to be talking about love, don't you think, B?" Quinn snapped suddenly. "You've had two face-to-face conversations with her and you can't even really qualify them as conversations because only one of you were speaking!"
Brittany's anger spiked. "What the hell is wrong with you? Getting jealous that I've found my match and that I'm not afraid of going after what I want?"
"Britt, don't go there," Quinn warned, her eyes narrowing.
Brittany sat up, glaring at her. "Why? I'm the only one who'll call you out on your bullshit. Hasn't this gone on long enough? You don't get to bitch at me for having feelings for a girl that I connect with just because you can't deal with the fact that you're still completely in love with Rachel and she didn't choose you."
Three seconds later, Brittany's door slammed closed, the noise echoing through the large house.
The dancer groaned and fell back against her comforter. She knew that she'd gone way over the line. Why was it that any bad word against Santana had her going suddenly ape shit with no control over her actions or words? She'd done the same thing to Puck. And now Quinn…
"Crap," Brittany muttered, jumping up and walking quickly to her bathroom. She washed her face and made sure she looked somewhat presentable. She shimmied out of the tight dress and threw on a sweater and jeans with her flats. She grabbed her car keys, purse and searched for her phone, but realised that Quinn probably still had it.
"Guess I gotta dig into my Quinn files," Brittany muttered, opening her door and jogging down the stairs. She could still feel the alcohol in her system, but for some reason, she was incredibly focused and her vision was fine.
Jumping into her car, she headed for their favourite diner, two minutes away from the school. They went there almost every day because they made the best pancakes and their coffee was addictively good.
Brittany didn't stay far from the school. In fact, it was about a ten minute walk, but it was late on a Friday night and her dad would kill her if she went walking about by herself. Plus, she didn't know how far she'd have to go.
The familiar sight of blue, purple and blonde hair in their booth negated her last thought. She pulled into the parking lot and took a breath before getting out and walking in. The jingle of the bell alerted Charlie, the owner and chef, to her arrival.
"Hey, Britt!" he called. "Usual?"
"Uh, maybe later, Charlie," she replied, her eyes on Quinn.
Her best friend had heard Charlie's greeting and looked up, her hazel eyes shooting daggers. Brittany knew she was in for some serious grovelling.
She slid into the booth, dropping her keys and purse quietly next to the sugar shaker. "Hey."
Unsurprisingly, she didn't get a reply.
"Q, I was out of line. No matter what you say to piss me off, I shouldn't have said that. I'm really sorry."
There was a silence that was somehow uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. Brittany waited for Quinn to respond.
"I know you don't say anything to spare my feelings," she eventually began in a quiet voice, "because you're in the middle and it sucks. I just…it seems so unfair that everyone else gets a fairy tale ending when mine was ripped from me by a stupid proposal."
Brittany leaned across the table and grabbed Quinn's hands, linking their fingers and holding on tight. "I can't imagine how hard it was for you to go through that, Q. I do see how much it affected you and still affects you and that's why I don't bring it up. I don't want to see that pain on your face. I don't want you to hurt more than you do everyday. I do know how much it's killing you and how you try to hide it." She gave Quinn's hands a reassuring squeeze. "I can't imagine what it feels like, but from what I can see, you're the strongest person I know for managing to deal with it."
"Deal with it?" Quinn laughed humourlessly. "You think I'm dealing with it, Britt? You really think that? If you do, then I must be a better actress than I thought. Or you must not know me as well as you thought."
Brittany didn't rise to the bait. They both retreated to low blows when they were hurting, even if the other person wasn't responsible. The price of knowing each other since kindergarten – they reacted almost identically to any given situation.
"Sorry," Quinn muttered. "I know you didn't mean it. I started it in the first place with that stupid comment about Santana."
"Babe, don't worry about it, ok? I know why you said it. I've found someone and it sucks for you because of what happened."
Their relationship was also incredible frank. Other than the whole Rachel fuck up, they were completely open with each other. In ways most friends weren't. However, this was the first time they were diving into the repercussions of Rachel choosing Finn over Quinn so everything was on the table.
"Do you really think she's your soul mate or whatever?" Quinn asked quietly.
Brittany shrugged. "I know I've never felt like this before. And I'm not just talking about attraction. I know I was drunk and probably not making any sense-"
"Oh no, you actually made perfect sense," Quinn interjected with a wry smile.
Progress, Brittany congratulated herself with a smile of her own.
"I think I'm so desperate to know her that I'm letting my mind run away with me. I know that I feel a connection to her – I have since that first day. But for all I know, she feels nothing and I'm gonna hopelessly be crushing on a girl who has no idea of how I feel." Brittany sighed. "I guess that's the price for something out of your control."
Quinn huffed in agreement. Brittany spun around. "Hey, Charlie!" she called.
"Sup, Britt?"
"Two special cocktails, please?"
Charlie grinned. "You're lucky we're quiet, ladies."
Brittany smiled back and turned back to Quinn.
"I was really hoping to get one of those tonight," Quinn mumbled, sniffing. "They make everything better."
"It's true," Brittany agreed, nodding fervently. "And we have some dire need for cocktail indulgence."
"B?"
She squeezed her friend's hands in response.
"Why didn't she pick me?"
And there it was. The question that had plagued Brittany for months. Why had Rachel chosen Finn? She had wanted to ask her sister so many times, but the heartbroken look on Quinn's face always popped into her head just before she opened her mouth and she chickened out.
"Q, there is no doubt in my mind that Rachel loves you," Brittany said seriously. "Every time I see her, I can see that she wants to ask me how you are. Sweetie, if I knew why she said yes to him, I would tell you in a heartbeat. Hell, I would've told you the minute I'd found out. I really do hate seeing you hurt like this."
Quinn shrugged. "It wasn't just physical when we were together."
Brittany tried not to grimace at the immediate mental image of her sister and best friend between the sheets.
"We spoke about our dreams and where we saw ourselves in five or ten years' time. We learned about each other's lives. I mean, we've known each other for ages so there wasn't that much to learn, I guess, but the stuff that no one else sees."
Brittany nodded. She knew this. She could see how they were when they were together. They were their own world for however long Rachel and Finn were on a timeout. She could see their connection.
"You have a connection with her, Q. You guys are drawn to each other the same way I'm drawn to Santana." She sighed. "If I ever had to try and ignore that connection, I'd probably go crazy."
"Welcome to my world."
"I'm so sorry, Q."
She shrugged. "What can we do? She made her choice. She doesn't care about me."
"She loves you," Brittany insisted.
"She may love me, B, but she doesn't care about me," Quinn shot back.
Brittany allowed the thought to roll around in her head. It made a lot of sense. She didn't know how Rachel looked at herself in the mirror every morning if that was the case. She shook her head to herself.
"Two special grande cocktails for my two favourite ladies," Charlie said, suddenly interrupting the serious moment.
Brittany smiled gratefully up at him. "You're the best, Charlie. Thanks so much."
"No problem, girls. Anyone I need to take care of?"
They couldn't help but chuckle. Because they were there so often, Charlie had taken it upon himself to be their 'Diner Dad'. He had the whole protective spiel down pat. He was actually pretty menacing when he wanted to be.
"Thanks, Charlie, but no contracts are needed at this time," Brittany said.
"If you say so." Charlie didn't look convinced. "I don't like seeing my girls so sad."
"We'll bounce back," Quinn assured him with a small smile. "You'll remember this when you're telling us to get down off the table again."
Brittany met her best friend's smile as she recalled the last time they had given the diner an impromptu performance to whatever song had been playing on the jukebox.
Charlie grunted and leaned down, kissing the top of Brittany's head before doing the same to Quinn. "As long as you're safe and taken care of, I'll keep Benny tucked away in the back."
The girls shook their heads in adoration for the middle-aged man and his sidekick, Benny. Benny was a permanently loaded shotgun and Charlie was a pro with it.
Brittany picked up her spoon and dug into the Charlie Sundae Extravaganza. It had a codename because only long standing patrons of Charlie's got to taste its awesomeness. Brittany was pretty sure that Charlie had created it just for them.
"God, how does he make them so perfectly every time?" Quinn mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate brownie, ice cream and diced almonds and cherries.
"Hmmm," Brittany agreed. She was convinced that Charlie had some secret special magical ingredient that he put in his cocktails to make everything fine again. Every time the girls had one, they felt like a weight had been lifted off.
Ten minutes later, Brittany sat back, the empty glass in front of her. "Oh my God, that was heaven."
Quinn dropped her spoon and groaned. "How do you always manage to finish them? I can never get more than halfway."
"Because I do about twenty times more exercise than you, lazy cow," Brittany teased.
"Bitch, please. You only practise that much because you need it."
Brittany grinned. They were back.
They discussed Quinn's evaluation until her best friend's hazel eyes went wide when the door jingled open.
"What?" Brittany asked curiously, turning around. Her heart started beating faster as she saw Santana walk up to the counter, looking utterly adorable in her flannel pyjamas. Well, it was almost midnight.
"See you tomorrow, B," Quinn said, slipping out of the booth, sliding Brittany's phone to her.
"Wait, what? Quinn, what are you doing?" Brittany hissed.
"Thanks, Charlie!" Quinn called as she neared the counter where Santana was standing. "Britt will take care of the bill."
Sneaky bitch.
Brittany spun back around the moment she saw Santana's head pop up at the mention of her name.
"Quinn, I don't think you've paid once since you two entered my diner all those years ago," Charlie chuckled.
Brittany grabbed her phone and opened up all her social networks, hoping the distraction would chase her mind from the fact that Santana was five feet away from her.
"Well, hello, young lady!" she heard Charlie greet cheerfully. "Haven't seen your pretty face around here before. What can I get you?"
Brittany had to grin at Charlie's charm. She and Quinn had totally fallen for it too.
"Gotcha. Order'll take about ten minutes. Can I get you some coffee or something while you wait?"
Santana must have given him a piece of paper or something. Brittany breathed out deeply, suddenly realising how awkward simply ordering a meal could be for a mute person. Not for the first time in the last week, she found herself exceptionally grateful for the complete use of all five of her senses.
Now her brain, that was a different story. Anytime Santana came into her vicinity, her brain went on the blink and she lost the most basic control on everyday functions. Like talking. Or breathing. Or impulse control.
She was jolted out of her inner monologue by someone sitting across from her. Brittany looked up from her phone and the goofy smile seemingly reserved for Santana immediately crossed her face. Cue the impulse control. Or lack thereof. She couldn't help it. Seeing Santana just made her happy. Her heart started beating like crazy and she felt her neck getting faintly warm, the sure sign of a blush.
Santana smiled back and gave a little wave. Brittany returned it. They just looked at each other until Santana pointed curiously at Quinn's half eaten cocktail.
"Oh, it's Charlie's secret cocktail," Brittany said with a grin. "Quinn can never finish hers." Cue no control over talking.
Santana picked up Quinn's discarded spoon and raised an eyebrow.
"Be my guest. But, um, you may want to finish that quickly," Brittany added in a hushed whisper. "Not just anyone gets to eat these. But, you know, I'll totally cover for you. Cos you should definitely try them. They're awesome."
God, whoever invented verbal diarrhoea sucked.
Santana smiled and Brittany melted. Well, it felt like her legs did. She probably looked like a total idiot, watching as Santana polished off the rest of Quinn's sundae while smiling like a goof.
Santana licked her lips and raised her eyebrows, grinning at Brittany. The blonde matched it and they just say back grinning at each other.
This seems surreal. I feel like I should make conversation…but at the same time this feels totally normal.
The movement of Santana's hands on the table broke their eye contact and Brittany furrowed her eyebrows in a question. Santana lifted one and waved it dismissively, but Brittany just gave her a knowing look.
Whoa! Who knew that not speaking would let me access my self-confidence?
Santana started moving her hands slowly, making symbols in front of her. Brittany's eyes widened. Sign language! She hadn't even thought of that. Well, that was definitely going to be the project of the year – especially if she and Santana were going to be working together for the winter showcase. And maybe even the final showcase.
"Um, I don't know sign language, Santana. I'm so sorry," Brittany said quietly, dropping her gaze.
The sharp rap of knuckles on the table made her look up. Santana shook her head and took a breath, her shoulders lifting with the effort. Very slowly, she started moving her hands again, but not into the same gestures as before. She pointed to Brittany, her watch and then gestured around the diner.
"Oh," Brittany said, understanding. "Yeah, it is pretty late. Uh…"
Did she know her well enough to start spouting about her problems? Brittany glanced up and as soon as she saw those beautiful, captivating brown eyes, she was hooked.
"Quinn and I had a bit of a fight and I figured she'd come here cos…well, we kinda always come here after a shit day or something." Brittany took a breath. She didn't divulge things about herself easily. Sure, she was popular, but only Quinn and Rachel really knew her. And here she was, sitting with a girl who couldn't speak and had only known for a few weeks (not that she even really knew her) and she felt comfortable enough to start spewing her troubles. Brittany thought that she'd be thrown off kilter, but it felt strangely…right.
Santana nodded in understanding, looking down at her hands, obviously not expecting anything else.
"You've…heard things about me and Quinn, haven't you?" Brittany ventured, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table.
Santana met her eyes and nodded once. Brittany sighed. The stories that flew around the school about her and Quinn were largely embellished but generally based on fact.
"Santana, I don't want to lie to you. I don't…I don't like lying so if you want to ask me anything, you can and I'll answer truthfully." She winced at the slip of the tongue, but didn't say anything based on what Santana had mentioned about slip-ups.
The brunette looked conflicted. Brittany couldn't help but think how adorable the indecision made her look. She must have started smiling again because Santana frowned and pointed at her mouth. The smile dropped quickly and Brittany focused on her hands guiltily. She felt someone kick her foot and she closed her eyes. She couldn't lie. She wouldn't lie. But it would mean that she was putting herself out there a lot sooner than she'd planned to.
"I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable," Brittany began softly, opening her eyes and meeting the curious brown ones staring back at her. "I find you…completely adorable. You're so cute when you're thinking about something and I…well, you already know that I think you're beautiful."
Brittany felt her cheeks redden, the heat of her blush covering her entire face and she dropped her eyes quickly in embarrassment. She felt Santana kick her feet, but was too scared to see her reaction. She felt another kick, more insistent and Brittany figured she should comply before her legs ended up with bruises. She lifted her gaze hesitantly and saw Santana looking at her with a friendly smile and hint of shyness. She lifted a hand and put it to her lips, the extended the same hand towards her.
Brittany's eyes widened. She wasn't blowing her a kiss, right? Right? Cos that would be just… mindbogglingly awesome.
Santana repeated the gesture and Brittany focused. She felt a little disappointment when she saw that Santana's lips didn't pucker or move when her fingers touched them. It wasn't a kiss. It was probably just a friendly gesture or something. She really needed to get up to speed with some basic sign language signals.
The bell jingled and Brittany watched as Santana's attention drifted past her head to the new patrons. Charlie generally closed around two so he was used to people coming in at strange hours.
"Evening, boys!" Charlie called from the kitchen. "What can I getcha?"
"Hey, old man, do you see any boys here?" a familiar voice sneered.
Brittany winced. Crap. She slid down in her seat, hoping that she wouldn't be spotted. Santana looked at her curiously, but Brittany shook her head slightly, begging her with her eyes to pretend she wasn't there. After a moment, Santana pulled out her phone and busied herself with it.
"Well, well, what do we have here? I'd recognise that head of hair anywhere."
Brittany felt the space next to her become occupied. She sighed and sat up.
"Were you trying to hide from me, Britt?" Rick asked, slinging his arm around her shoulder.
Brittany squirmed uncomfortably and sat forward so that Rick's arm dropped behind her. As it turned out, that wasn't the best idea as his hand just disappeared under her sweater.
"Rick, stop it," she said, jerking away from him.
"That's not what you told me the last time I saw you, Britt."
Brittany shot a glance to Santana who was looking very uncomfortable. "Look, I was drunk at that party, ok? It was a drunken hook up. It didn't mean anything."
"You weren't too drunk to remember it, obviously," Rick retorted. "My favourite part was watching that blonde head of yours moving-"
"Ugh, Jesus Christ, you're so gross," Brittany cut in, shoving him backwards. "Get over yourself, Rick. Two minutes is hardly anything to remember."
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, forcing Brittany against the window.
"You don't talk to me like that," he spat. "Just because you go to McKinley and live in a big fancy house, you think you're better than me? Huh?"
Brittany just glared at him.
"Hey, boys!" Charlie called.
The sound of a gun cocking caused Rick to glance back at Charlie. He scoffed and slid out of the booth. Brittany straightened up and tried to calm her racing heart. Rick was an ass and she had been really drunk at that beach party at the beginning of the summer. It was a going away party thrown in her honour just before she left for New York. Word had got out and kids from Carmel, the local high school, had shown up. Generally, Brittany didn't mind them, but these jocks were something else. They thought they were the shit and could do whatever and whomever the fuck they wanted.
Brittany had found this out the hard way when she'd walked out of the little beach huts to a bunch of his friends jeering and congratulating Rick on his 'conquest'. She'd left the party pretty quickly thereafter,
"Oh, hello there, sweetheart. I didn't even see you sitting there."
Brittany saw red. She sprang out of the booth and shouldered herself between Rick and Santana before he could sit down.
"I think we're done here," she said evenly, holding his gaze. Luckily, her height meant that they were eye-to-eye.
"You wish, babe. I'm just getting warmed up."
"Boys, I think you've disturbed my patrons enough. There's the door," Charlie said firmly.
"Yeah, whatever, old man," Rick jeered. "You just want the pretty girls to yourself, huh? All alone in this diner late on a Friday?"
"You're despicable," Brittany said through gritted teeth. "Get out."
Rick laughed, pressing himself against her body. She turned her face as he leaned in. "You don't call the shots here, Britt."
"I do. You heard the lady. I'm not gonna ask again. My next call will be to the cops."
"Do that, old man," Rick chuckled, walking away from Brittany to the end of the counter,
She took the opportunity to glimpse his cronies making their way to the other end of the diner, to the jukebox. Brittany spun around and grabbed Santana's wrist, coaxing her out of the booth gently. She kept one eye on Rick, thankful that Santana was following her.
Brittany pulled Santana in front of her, placing a hand on the back to gently guide her towards the door. Charlie gripped his gun, his eyes still on Rick, but they quickly met Brittany's and down to the take-away bag on the counter. Brittany grabbed it and quickly opened the door.
"Leaving so soon, Britt?" Rick called.
Shit. I can't leave Charlie here by himself.
She pushed Santana out the door and handed her the food. "Promise me you'll go straight home," she said quickly, her eyes desperately searching Santana's.
The brunette's eyes went wide when she realised that Brittany wouldn't be following her.
"Santana, please. Just go home. Go straight home, ok? I'll be fine. Charlie just…he can't be alone."
Santana stepped forward, but Brittany stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to go home. I won't let these guys hurt you. Ok? Please?"
"Britt!" she heard Charlie call behind her.
She felt two arms circle her waist and she felt her inside curl at his touch. Her eyes pleaded with Santana as she closed the door of the diner. Santana looked scared and worried and undecided, but Brittany stood her ground, letting Rick runs his disgusting hands roam all over her body so that Santana could leave safely.
Go, she mouthed.
Santana sent her the same pleading look that Brittany had given her a few seconds ago.
I'll be fine. I need you to be safe, she mouthed, indicating with her eyes what she assumed was Santana's car.
After what seemed like hours, Santana eventually turned and walked to her car. Brittany withstood Rick's advances until the brunette's car was pulling out of the lot. She elbowed him and shoved him off her.
"Get your disgusting hands off me, asshole," she hissed.
Her eyes met Charlie's and he had Benny set straight at Rick's head. She knew the gun was loaded, but Charlie wasn't a violent man.
"It sure didn't feel like you didn't want me touching you a few seconds ago, Britt," Rick said with a cocky smirk.
"Trust me, Dick, that wasn't for your benefit."
"Ah, I see what's going on here," Rick chuckled. "You've got it bad for the Latina chick. Aw, that's so cute."
Brittany set her jaw and didn't bother replying.
"Hmmm, I could've handled watching the two of you get it on," Rick said thoughtfully.
Ugh, gross.
Brittany shoved him back and headed back to her booth, grabbing her phone and dialling 911.
"You calling your friend back for a bit of fun, Britt?"
"Hello, 911. What is your emergency?"
"Yeah, hi. My name is Brittany Pierce. I'm calling from Charlie's Diner just off Hathaway Avenue about two blocks from the William McKinley Academy. There are some boys here that are creating a disturbance and are refusing to leave. They're getting…handsy."
"All right, Brittany. We have your location. We'll send some patrols over as soon as we can."
"Thank you," Brittany said sweetly, hanging up the phone and glaring at Rick.
"You didn't really call the cops," Rick scoffed. "We aren't even doing anything."
Brittany grabbed the sugar shaker from her table and threw it against the counter.
"Now why did you go and do that, Rick?" she said in faux disappointment.
"Bitch, you did that, not me!"
Brittany picked up the two sundae glasses and dropped them on the floor. They shattered and she jumped onto the booth seta, not wanting to get glass on her feet.
"Oh, Charlie, these guys are being really destructive," Brittany said with a dramatic sigh.
Flashing lights became visible in the night sky and sirens were heard rapidly approaching.
"Fuck, get out of here," Rick snapped, opening the door and running to his truck. His cronies followed shortly.
Brittany didn't bother waiting to watch Rick peal out of the parking lot. She climbed over the seat into the next booth and jumped onto the floor, handing her hand out to Charlie with a smile.
"Britt," he breathed, letting Benny hang at his side. "You didn't have to do that."
Brittany shrugged. "Hand me the broom, please?"
Charlie just shook his head and turned into the kitchen. She heard Benny being put back on his perch and Charlie reappeared with two brooms. He came around the counter and handed her one. They'd just started sweeping up the mess that Brittany had caused when two cops cars screeched to a halt in front of the door.
"Everything ok here?" a cop asked, opening the door and looking around.
"They ran off as soon as I called the cops," Brittany said. "I'm sorry that you guys actually had to come out. It was just…"
"They were terrifying my patrons and being assholes," Charlie grumbled.
The cop sighed. "Did you catch any names or anything?"
"It was Rick, the hockey player from Carmel High," Brittany supplied. "I'm sorry, I don't know his last name."
"Ah, Rick 'The Stick'."
"Popular, I see."
"He's got a history of public disturbances," the cops said with a frown. "One more strike and he's off to juvie."
"Let's hope he plays the stupid card he's got multitudes of," Brittany quipped, continuing her sweeping.
"You guys gonna be fine by yourselves?" the cop asked.
Charlie nodded. "Thanks, Officer. I really do appreciate you coming out, even though it was a bit of a false alarm."
"I doubt it was," the officer replied with a wry smile. "And you're welcome, Charlie."
The door closed and Charlie went to lock it. They spent the next five minutes sweeping up the broken glass and sugar lying everywhere.
"Britt, what you did for that girl," Charlie began.
"It's cool, Charlie," Brittany interrupted. "She's…special. She's not like normal girls."
"I could tell from the way you were looking at her," Charlie said quietly.
Brittany sighed quietly. She knew that she cared about Santana and that anyone who threatened her would get an earful or fistful. This was the third time she'd flown off the handle because of Santana. And honestly, she'd do it again. Santana was a precious gem and Brittany would make sure that she was ok, no matter what.
Within ten minutes, the glass had been cleared and Brittany started clearing the tables.
"Britt, what are you doing?" Charlie asked in disbelief.
"Helping you close up. I think you need an early night," Brittany said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah," Charlie said quietly. "Maybe you're right."
They worked in silence for a while.
"How do you even know what to do?"
Brittany smiled and winked at him. "Quinn and I have been in here more than enough times when you've closed up. I know your routine backwards."
"I think I should hire you," Charlie teased. "My clientele would definitely increase with the pretty view."
Brittany giggled and slapped Charlie's arm. "That summer after sophomore year was more than enough waitressing for me. Maybe one day when I'm broke and can't dance anymore I'll come back to my second favourite place in the world."
Charlie gasped in fake hurt. "Second?"
"You know the studio is my favourite. I spend more time in there than I do in my own bedroom."
"That's true," Charlie commented. "So, you're getting ready for the winter showcase then?"
Charlie was well aware of the structure within the walls of McKinley, hearing Quinn and Brittany talk about it over the last three years enough. She nodded and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.
"Britt, I got the rest of this. You go home, ok?"
She sighed and nodded. She was suddenly exhausted. The day had seriously been a crazy one, up and down and emotionally draining.
"I'll pay for Santana's food as well," she said, grabbing her keys, purse and phone from the table.
Charlie snorted. "You honestly think that after what happened, I'm gonna let you pay for anything?"
Brittany smiled and pulled out three twenties from her purse and put them next to the register. "If I didn't pay, you'd go out of business, Charlie," she teased. "I'll be in for brunch tomorrow."
"As always," Charlie replied with a smile.
She and Quinn had a tradition (one of many), where they met at Charlie's at eleven every Saturday for brunch. Charlie had complained that he hadn't seen them over the summer due to Brittany's excursion to Broadway.
Brittany grinned as she unlocked the door and stepped outside. Charlie's was like a home away from home. She felt completely comfortable with being herself and Charlie really was like another father figure for both her and Quinn.
She knew that he was a widower, having lost his wife to cancer five years previously. They'd just opened the diner together and the doctor had dropped the bomb. The diner almost didn't survive with Charlie's wife's hospital bills for chemo and radiation and everything. They didn't have any kids, but Britt knew that Charlie had wanted a family so badly. When she and Quinn had discovered this, they were more than happy to be his foster daughters, so to speak.
Brittany slid into her car and pulled the door closed, leaning back and taking a deep breath. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out. She smiled.
Are you ok? Please tell me that you are? I didn't want to go. You shouldn't have made me. Are you ok? Santana.
She was glad that Santana had left. She couldn't have predicted what Rick would have done, but no way was she going to submit Santana to any kind of danger if she could help it.
I'm fine. I told you not to worry. I'm glad you're safe. I didn't want anything to happen to you. Sweet dreams, Santana. Britt xoxo
She turned the key and made the very short drive home. She saw that both her parents' cars were in the garage, which was a surprise. Her father was often away on the weekends for business and her mother spent her weekends at the spa.
"Hi, Daddy," Brittany greeted her father as she walked past the entertainment room.
"Evening, boo," he replied, glancing down at his watch. "Or should I say morning."
Brittany smiled. "Yeah, was just at Charlie's with Quinn and a…friend."
"Friend?"
She detected the curious tone in her father's voice and she winked at him. "Just a new student, Daddy. I'm gonna head up to bed. Evaluations were killer today."
"You'll tell us how it went at dinner next week?"
Brittany nodded and kissed his cheek. Every Wednesday, the three of them had a home cooked meal and sat down like a proper family. She cherished those moments. With their crazy schedules, it wasn't easy to find time to spend together, but they'd decided that this was an immovable standing date.
She opened her bedroom door and flopped onto her bed, lazily pulling off her clothes and snuggling under the soft duvet. The blinking light on her phone caught her attention and she opened up the new message from Santana.
I was worried. I was…scared. I didn't want anything to happen to you, either. Sweet dreams, Brittany.
She grinned. She'd definitely be having sweet dreams.
"Holy shit, B! Now I feel like crap cos I left you there alone."
"Ok, first, I appreciate your attempt at matchmaking, even though I may just be infatuated with someone who won't ever reciprocate. Two, if you'd been there instead, I'm pretty sure I'd be bailing your ass out of jail right now. And third, I'm totally fine. No one got hurt."
Brittany continued searching through her closet for something to wear to Sugar's party that night. She had her phone cradled between her shoulder and ear.
"Yeah, you're badass, Pierce, whatever," Quinn teased. "So how'd it go with your lady love?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Not my lady love, Q."
"Oh, please. You're completely head over heels for the girl. It's so glaringly obvious. Were you able to actually form sentences this time?"
"Well, believe it or not, most of our communicating was done with gestures and…um…our eyes."
Quinn burst out laughing. Brittany huffed and abruptly ended the call, tossing her phone onto her bed. She heard it ring again, but Quinn could suffer not speaking to her for a few hours.
She spent the rest of the morning relaxing in her room, listening to music – although nothing held a candle to Santana's music now – and trolling the social media sites. Not that she was stalking the girl or anything, But Brittany was surprised to find that Santana didn't have a Facebook or Tumblr page. At the same time, she could understand.
A memory of the previous night flashed in her mind and she quickly opened up a new tab in her browser and searched for sign language. After a few minutes of scrolling through multitudes of pages, she finally found out what Santana had been trying to say.
She tapped the side of phone thoughtfully before deciding to bite the bullet. She opened up a text and typed.
Just figured out what you said to me with sign language last night, and you're very welcome. Do you have plans tonight? My friend's having a party and I thought you might like to come?
Brittany chewed on her bottom lip for five minutes as her phone remained idle. Frustrated with herself, she rolled off her bed and played the song from her evaluation. Her body immediately responded and she redid the routine. Dissatisfied with a lacklustre performance, she set the song on repeat and just lost herself, trying to forget about the distraction that was Santana Lopez.
After an hour of dancing, Brittany was feeling quite a bit lighter and she glanced over at her discarded phone on her bed. The light was flashing and she slowly made her way over to pick it up. Two unread messages.
I know. I'm a bitch. I'm sorry. It's totally cute how much you're crushing on the junior. I've never seen you like this and it's part of my mandate as your best friend to tease you mercilessly. So I am sorry, but get used to it ;p See you at seven, slut.
Brittany rolled her eyes. It was as much of an apology as she was ever going to get from Quinn Fabray. The fact that she'd actually said I'm sorry was unheard of. She took a deep breath and opened the next one.
I'm sorry, Brittany. I don't think I'll make it tonight. Thank you for the offer, though. I'll see you at school. Santana.
She flopped on her bed, hating how disappointed she was. Did she really think that inviting Santana to a party would be a good idea?
Well done, Britt. Put a mute girl in a social situation where alcohol will be consumed and people's natural mean streaks come out and play. Real stellar performance. Brava.
She groaned to herself, realising how stupid and naïve she'd been to ask Santana. Obviously she would decline. Besides, who said that she even wanted to go with Brittany if being mute wasn't a very clear deterrent?
Feeling exceptionally guilty, Brittany replied quickly.
I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Santana.
She shook her head to herself and quickly stripped out of her shorts and wife beater. She grabbed a bikini and dressed before heading down to the pool, leaving her phone on her bed and ignoring the blinking light.
"You ok?"
"Fine," Brittany replied shortly, rolling some mascara onto her lashes.
Through the mirror, she saw Quinn arch a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Drop it, Q."
"I didn't even pick anything up," Quinn replied with a smirk. "But since you did, what's eating you?"
"Nothing," Brittany insisted.
"I call bullshit. You haven't checked your phone once in the last two hours I've been here and I think you've had about three buzzes. You never ignore buzzes."
"I ignored your buzz."
"That's fine. I knew you'd forgiven me so I didn't bother with a follow up. Besides, that's so not my style."
She saw Quinn reach over and grab her phone from her nightstand. Before she could unlock it, Brittany had snatched it away.
"Your best friend status gives you access to the majority of my life, but I don't appreciate you looking though my phone without my permission, Q."
Quinn's jaw dropped. "You're kidding me."
Brittany just glared at her, the alluring blinking light visible out of the corner of her eye.
"It's Santana, isn't it?"
Brittany just turned around, slipping her phone into the pocket of her denim shorts. She focused on finishing her make up.
"You never don't tell me what's going on, B. So…what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Is that the problem?"
"No, my stupid imagination is the problem. No matter how much I know that we'll probably never be anything more than friends, my imagination just comes up with all these scenarios to torture me and I fucking hate it. I had a momentary lapse and gave into one of these fantasies, thinking for a second that maybe I could offer her something unique. But clearly I'm just delusional."
"She shot you down?" Quinn asked in disbelief.
Brittany's silence was answer enough.
"Well, we are definitely getting drunk tonight," Quinn declared. "And I'll totally be your wingwoman."
Brittany shook her head. "I don't want another drunken hook up," she muttered, her mind flitting back to Rick and the disaster that came from that mistake.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm really not in the mood."
"Which is why we'll be drinking."
"I'll drink. But nothing else."
Quinn shrugged. "Fine. At least you can take comfort in knowing that you'll be going home with some guaranteed hot booty."
Brittany sent her a pointed look and Quinn grinned.
"I didn't say you had to do anything with my guaranteed hot booty. Such a shame to waste an entire night sleeping in the same bed…well, sleeping."
"Oh, Q. You don't know how to give up on a lost cause, do you?" Brittany teased, feeling a little less disappointed about the whole thing with Santana as the familiar banter between her and Quinn kicked up.
"Baby, why would I give up? Perseverance is my greatest ally. I know all your weaknesses."
"Yeah, well you currently don't fit the description of my biggest weakness," she mumbled to herself.
Quinn caught it though. Damn her sharp ears! "I could totally pull off a wig."
"God, that is wrong on so many levels."
Quinn chuckled as her phone chimed. She glanced down at the screen. "Kurt demands that we get our asses to Sugar's right away because his gay is fading in amongst the overwhelming heterosexuality."
"Jesus, between the two of you, you're more dramatic that a Broadway show."
"Well, I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?" Quinn teased, smacking Brittany's ass as they grabbed their bags and headed out.
"Druuuuunk," Brittany groaned, leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Where are we?"
"Bathroom. You need to cool off. I'm not dragging your unconscious ass home."
"Quinnie, are you drunk? Cos you don't sound drunk. You cry when you're drunk. You totally shouldn't be sad, though."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, at least you're not at that level where your clothes come off."
"Yeah, but you like it when I do that," Brittany purred, pinning her against the sink.
Quinn chuckled. "Britt, I thought you didn't want any drunk hook ups."
"You're not drunk," Brittany pointed out.
"Perhaps. What happened with your little speech yesterday before laser tag?"
"I don't remember that long ago," Brittany mumbled, leaning down to nibble on Quinn's neck.
She felt her friend sharply take in a breath of air and she smiled against the clammy skin. They'd spent the better part of the last two hours dancing with each other. Because they were Brittany and Quinn, their bodies were always very close together and, to the casual observer, the intention was clear – they were together.
Thankfully, most of the people at Sugar's party were well aware of Brittany and Quinn's history with each other and that they were just friends.
"B, you're gonna regret this tomorrow," Quinn said, stepping away from her. "Drink some water and let's wash your face, ok?"
Brittany pouted, but obeyed. Quinn busied herself redoing Brittany's hair, pulling it into a stylishly messy ponytail so that it was out of her face.
"Feel better?" she asked, once Brittany had splashed some water on her flushed skin.
She sighed and nodded before turning and sitting on the lid of the toilet. "Why does this shit have to be so complicated?" she muttered, dropping her face into her hands.
"Just read the messages, B. Maybe she told you why. Or maybe she even changed her mind and is waiting for you downstairs."
Brittany's head flew up, her eyes wide. "She wouldn't, right? I mean, she said no. Why would she change her mind?"
"Because maybe she's crushing on you too? You'll never know if you don't read those messages, B."
Brittany frowned in deliberation. She hadn't yet checked her phone for fear of more disappointment. She pulled it out of her pocket, the blinking light mocking her. She took a deep breath and unlocked it. She set her jaw once she'd read what the alerts were and locked her phone, quickly putting it away again.
"Well?"
"Two emails and two Facebook notifications." Brittany stood up abruptly. "Whatever. I know that my feelings aren't going to change, which means I'm doomed to a year of hell being in love with someone who wants a silent friendship."
Quinn's eyes widened as Brittany's words echoed off the tiles. The dancer, however, didn't seem to realise what she'd said and opened the door. Quinn shook herself and quickly followed, ignoring the knowing smirks from the girls waiting in line for the bathroom.
The next day, Brittany spent a few hours on her homework. It was her Sunday tradition. Quinn had left after a very greasy breakfast, hiding her hangover behind big dark glasses. After their bathroom discussion, neither girl had held back on the drinking and Brittany vaguely remembered stumbling home close to four am, with a sobbing Quinn on her arm. She still had no idea where her shirt had disappeared to.
The evening was spent doing a few laps and vegging in her bed, catching up on her TVO'd Vampire Diaries.
Her phone chimed and she picked up, assuming that it was from Quinn, no doubt complaining about how her empty house was far too loud.
To her surprise, it wasn't from Quinn.
I hope you had fun last night. In hindsight, I should've said yes.
Brittany blinked in disbelief. This thwarted all of her rambling the previous day. Did she want to have gone because she wanted to meet people? Did she want to have gone because of some inspirational gain she might have found? Did she want to have gone because of…her?
She shook her head of the torturous thoughts. Speculating was doing nothing but driving her crazy. She would never flat out ask Santana if she was interested. If it were any other girl, she totally would have already sweet-talked her, but she couldn't do that with Santana. She wouldn't. She was different. She was everything. She let herself smile a little as she typed out a reply.
Next time. It was fun, but it would have been better with you there. Britt xoxo.
A/N: Chapter 3! It's been forever, I know. Hope you like – would love to hear your thoughts :)
A thought that I've been having surrounding this 'Wedding Of The Year' picture that has everyone digging out their pitchforks may earn me an unfollow or five, but it's just my opinion. I think at this stage, we're all aware of how Ryan Murphy enjoys messing with the fans at times, especially the different fandoms. I've accepted this. Perhaps he's a little drunk on the power and success brought on by Glee. I dunno… ANYWAY, just because Britt and Sam are in the photo with that caption, everyone immediately assumed that it was related to them. Um, does anyone else remember a couple who are engaged to be married? Hence, the 'Wedding Of The Year'. He did it to get a rise and he succeeded.
I have faith in our Brittana endgame. And apparently, so does Quinn ;)
Back to A Silent Song - there will definitely be a sequel and I've decided to stick with Britt's POV for this story and maybe, if the readers demand it, I'll write this from Santana's POV (Santana's Song). Your opinions are of great value to me :D
-H