Author's note: Hey everybody, thanks so much for baring with me! I know it's been a while, but some personal stuff got in the way and I've only managed to write it now. It's a bit of a short, filler chapter, but it's cute, so I hope you enjoy. xoxo

Chapter Five

It'd been a week since agreeing to Santana's work offer, that Brittany was once again walking through the doors of Strike Two, though this time for a completely different reason. She hadn't quit the club yet, and she'd been prolonging it for too long. What if it didn't work out at the magazine? What if being around Santana would prove too hard and she couldn't do it? She needed something to fall back on, even if it was this club. Right?

The blonde sighed, heading straight for Ben's office. She couldn't stay here.

Knocking softly on his door, Brittany didn't wait for a reply before poking her head into the room. "Ben, have you got a second? I really need to talk to you."

A small smile greeted his face at the sight of his most valued employee. "Sure thing, come on in." He closed the file he was currently working on and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the desk. "What can I do for you?"

Suddenly, she was more nervous than before. The idea of disappointing him, after everything he'd done for her, seemed wrong. He helped her out when she had no one to turn to and no one to go to; took her in under his wing, providing a job and a place to stay all at once. Then, when she had enough to get back on her feet, she managed to get an apartment, still keeping the job because it just seemed too hard to say goodbye.

Gulping, she closed the door behind her and sat opposite him, in one of the business chairs. "I have some, uh…" she paused, avoiding eye contact, "…bad news." Ben frowned, sitting up once again, straightening his back.

"What's wrong, Britt?"

Brittany looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes. Fiddling with her hands, she mumbled, "I have a job opportunity." She smiled faintly. "It's with Couture Magazine, I'd be a model for their new and upcoming issue. They want me to start straight away, I've even done some practice shoots, and they loved me." She mumbled. "I can't pass this up, Ben. I'm sorry, but I couldn't say no…" The blonde looked away, her palms sweaty with nerves.

On the other side of the desk, she heard Ben sigh. "I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. You have amazing potential and to be honest, I was just waiting for the moment you'd realise you're too good for this place and fly off on your own." She could hear the slight smile in his voice.

The dancer looked up, feeling slightly better about it all after hearing Ben's words. "So you don't hate me?" She asked, her voice small.

"Of course not. I can only wish you luck Britt, it's all you deserve. And listen, you're welcome back here anytime." He chuckled softly, standing up and extending his hand in her general direction. Brittany, also standing, shook it and a smile grew on her face.

"Thank you so much for understanding." She went around the desk, forgetting their work relations and giving him a tight, well deserved hug. After exchanging a few more words and further goodbyes, Brittany skipped out of his office and towards her changing room to collect all her things.

Stepping in, the blonde took a deep breath, looking around the room. For the past couple of years, this was all she had; this room was all she knew. Smiling softly to herself, she walked over to her dressing table, gathering all her belongings and shoving them into the bag she had on her. She might have to come back for some of them another day, but most of them could be taken today. It was weird seeing this room so empty, but it was very early in the morning and most of the performers wouldn't be coming in until a few hours from now.

After having gathered all she could manage, Brittany searched the room for a scrap of paper and a pen. She wouldn't want to come back for the rest of her things while anyone else was here, so she decided to write her goodbye out.

Fellow ENTERTAINERS,

You all rock. Thanks for being my friends and family for the past few years, even though you make me want to scratch your eyes out most of the time. You've all taught me a lot about life and I'll never forget you. Good luck with everything and keep being awesome and don't let anyone bring you down. I won't forget you when I'm a famous model.

Love,

Chastity

She taped the note to the mirror where everyone would see it upon coming into the room and took one last look around, draping her bag over her shoulder. "Bye, room." Brittany mumbled, switching off the light and walking out of the building.

Stepping outside, she was slapped by a cold breeze. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, the blonde hopped onto her bicycle, setting her GPS to Couture Magazine and heading for her new job.

Even working as a stripper, Brittany had never experienced so much chaos. She wasn't used to this. At Strike Two, she was responsible for everything; she had to pick out her outfits and fix her own make-up. That was nothing in comparison to this. She had around 20 people running back and forth, making sure everything was to the T.

She had people fixing her make-up every few seconds, while someone else was brushing out or styling her hair and around ten other different people fixing the smallest things about her current outfit, which was nothing more than a fairly skimpy bikini, so she didn't understand why so many people needed to be around in the first place.

It seemed a bit excessive, but maybe that's what being a model was all about.

She was told to stay still as a stranger came by to drown her lips in a pink lip-gloss, slightly matching in colour the swim suit she was wearing. It was chilly on set and noticing her goose bumps, someone draped a black robe over her shoulders. Apparently the goose bumps were an inconvenience when applying make-up. Brittany rolled her eyes.

"Alright everybody, we're shooting in five" one of the directors yelled at the top of his lungs, causing sudden rushed chatter from everyone on set.

Final touch ups were made to the blonde's face and body, then she was asked to stand up so the team could admire their work on her and make sure everything looked great when she moved around.

"Perfect." Someone mumbled and Brittany was almost sure one of the make-up artists was wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.

A few moments later, the photo-shoot director was walking up to Brittany, a small clipboard in his hands. "The shoot, as I' sure you're aware is going to take place outside. It's a bit cold out today, but don't worry, you're gonna have heaters pointing your way from every direction, so you won't even feel it. We're gonna have you propped up against a brick wall in one of the settings, and laying on top of a car in the other, with a few shots just on the street." He ranted on for a while longer but was talking so fast Brittany barely followed, but she got the general gist of what he wanted from her.

Shortly after, the blonde was being escorted outside, where she was met by bright lights, heaters and one mean looking photographer. Brittany shuddered despite the warm air flowing her way.

"Places, everyone." He yelled, without explaining what places he was talking about.

Brittany walked over to the brick wall, where she assumed she should be standing right about now. The photographer, whose name she overheard was Nick, pointed his camera at her, so she took it as a confirmation of standing in the right place.

Nick started shouting commands at her, telling her to pose like this, or stand like that. He was different than the people she had her practice shoots with; he was tougher and meaner and expected way more than they did. But Brittany was determined to prove her worth. She couldn't disappoint anyone here, nor her family. Most of all, she hated the idea of disappointing Santana.

So she stood and posed this way and that, she did everything he wanted and more. She took initiative and over the course of a few minutes, she saw his attitude change. He seemed more eager and interested, like he actually wanted to do the shoot now.

Pride flowed through Brittany's veins, making her performance just that much better.

Despite the start of the day, she was having the best time. She loved the make-up and her hair, she loved the clothes she got to wear and most of all, she adored the feeling of doing something that means something and something she's so good at.

Right now, she felt like she was on top of the world.

After however many shots needed for her by the brick wall, Nick had a grin on his face. He came up to her and gave her a tight hug, mumbling something too excitedly to be coherent.

Before moving to their next location, which was a couple of feet away, Brittany had to change her outfit. The next swimsuit on the list was a black two piece. More confident now than she was at the beginning of the shoot, the blonde felt more comfortable so showing off more of her body in front of the camera wasn't a problem.

Once ready, Nick guided her to the car, which was an old style red Mustang with a thick black stripe going down its front.

"Alright, what I need you to do, is just climb on top of the hood and be sexy. It's that simple." He smiled at her. "You can lie down, sit up, your choice. Just rock my world."

Brittany nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted from her.

Climbing on top of the car, the blonde was in the groove from the word 'go'. This photo-shoot was getting all she had, she couldn't ever remember working so hard at something that actually meant a lot to her.

She laid back on the hood of the car, her back pressing against the window shield, pushing out her bust. A few cheers and whistles sounded from the team, then silence.

Brittany frowned, lifting her head and looking around, before gathering herself up and standing in front of the car, subconsciously covering as much of her body as she could with her arms.

Santana wasn't supposed to be here, and honestly, at this point, she couldn't even remember how she got here.

She started off her day as usual; a short morning exchange with Sam, followed by getting her second coffee of the day on her way to work and arriving at the magazine ridiculously early.

When she arrived there, a sheet outlining the day's schedule laid on her desk and as usual, she didn't mean to pay much attention to it, but a certain name caught her eye. Today was Brittany's first official photo-shoot, for their swimsuit collection.

The Latina never went to the company photo-shoots. She always had more important things to do, than to stand around watching a model prance in front of a camera. Just because this was Brittany, wouldn't make the situation any different. She wouldn't go, and that was that.

For the most part of the day, she had done really well. She hadn't thought or spoken about Brittany, so when she left the building for an early lunch and somehow ended up at the photo-shoot, she didn't really know what to do, but it was too late to turn back.

Upon her arrival, she was asked for identification to get on the shoot by some rookie, who she made a mental note of firing later on.

Walking on through the changing rooms, she made her way out onto the street where the actual shoot was taking place. She knew her way around so she didn't feel the need of speaking to anyone. As she made her way through the set, silence followed her. From the corner of her eyes she noticed exchanged of nervous glances and hushed whispers about why she was there. Everyone knew that Santana was a big deal, and nobody understood why she was here, considering she had never been to a single shoot before.

Through the silently parting crowd of people, the Latina's eyes fell on Brittany, and she was dumbstruck.

Her eyes fell on the blonde's body, and for a moment, she didn't know anything else. She realised she was probably gaping, but wasn't sure how to stop. Brittany's body was stretched out on top of a car, her lean stomach tense, and her legs looked to be ten feet long. It was chilly outside, but with the amount of heaters that were pointing in her direction, Brittany's body was covered in tiny beads of sweat which only made it that much harder for Santana to tear away her gaze.

The black swimsuit she was sporting fit her perfectly, highlighting the best parts of her body in amazingly gracious ways.

It was only when the model looked in Santana's direction, startled, and jumped off the car, that the Latina realised the place was silent and everyone was watching her stare at Brittany.

The brunette's cheeks burned, and she finally managed to look away. Clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked around. Everyone seemed to be suddenly interested in their previous jobs and a nervous pretend chatter filled the room.

Rolling her eyes, Santana walked over to Brittany, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"You look fantastic." She gestured at the blonde, her smile growing slightly wider at the fact that Brittany was trying to hide her body in sudden embarrassment. "I couldn't have done this better if I was directing this photoshoot myself."

Brittany relaxed a little, her arms dropping by her sides, instead of covering her body.

"Thanks, I'm really trying to do a good job. I don't wanna blow this." She mumbled, looking mostly at the ground as she spoke. She wasn't wearing any shoes and the ground must have been too cold for her, because a few seconds later, she hopped on top of the car, dangling her feet. She looked cute.

Santana shook her head, looking around as if to make sure nobody was listening. "That's impossible, you're too good." Brittany blushed.

A little flustered, the blonde dusted some imaginary dust off her thigh. "What are you doing here, Santana?" she asked, looking up at the Latina, her eyes stern. The brunette continued sending her mixed signals and it was starting to give Brittany a headache.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's your first big day." She offered the explanation with an encouraging smile.

"Why are you being nice?" Brittany didn't feel like beating around the bush.

Santana sighed, looking around again before hopping on the car right next to the blonde. "I figured we're gonna be spending more time together now, we might as well be friends. There's no point of us being weird around each other every time we're in the same room. You know?" she looked over at the blonde, nudging their shoulders together.

Tilting her head, Brittany looked into Santana's eyes. "I see where you're coming from."

The women leaned back on their arms at the same time, their hands meeting on the hood of the car and sudden electricity flowed through them. Their fingers retracted as fast as they had touched and suddenly Santana was standing with her arms crossed over her chest once again.

"Anyway, you're doing great. I just wanted to tell you that. You should probably get back to work though, Nick looks like he's about to kill me." She chuckled, hoping to diffuse the tension. Looking over her shoulder, she sent the photographer a cheeky wave and wink, then turned back to Brittany. "Seriously, you're a natural. You got this." She smiled, giving Brittany's shoulder a quick squeeze, then darting out of the photo-shoot set.