I Make Them Good Girls Go Bad.
Prt. 4
Santana freezes in her tracks. She really doesn't know what she should say in this situation. Thankfully Brittany says something for her.
"Oh… no Quinn… nothing happened, I let Santana crash here last night, since she was in no condition to drive." Brittany says as she tries to cover for the brunette who was still in shock.
Santana was starting to think she was still asleep. 'Let this not be happening.' She wills.
"But she just came out of the same room as you." Quinn says with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, I didn't want to climb up the stairs when we got home. I drank way too much last night to accomplish that task." Rachel punches the blonde in the arm. "Ow…" Brittany rubs her arm.
"That's for scaring the shit out of us and not calling…" She hits Brittany again. "And that's for drinking and then deciding to race, you could have gotten hurt. Do you really want me to fantasizing more about singing at your funeral… your job already does that to me." The diva rants. "I mean, you can be so irresponsible!" That seemed like a good point for Santana to cut in before she was trapped there, and had listen to the fight that was about to break out.
"I should probably go… is my…" Santana says quietly as she makes her way towards the front door. She felt like she might have overstayed her welcome.
"No wait, don't go… don't you want some… food or something?" Brittany looks to her friends for some sort of input. She really didn't want Santana to leave. She had hoped they could get better acquainted without the influence of alcohol.
Santana really didn't want to stay, she could tell that she was about to get the friend interrogation if she did, but when she looked at Brittany and saw how her face was practically pleading for her to stay, she had no choice but to say…
"Fine… got any waffles?" Brittany practically squeals with excitement before she jumped into the Latina's arms, then pulls her into the kitchen. Quinn and Rachel follow them. The fight had been successfully extinguished with the talk of breakfast food. Quinn helps Brittany with the cooking. She knew that the blonde rookie had no idea how to cook, even though she insisted she could. Quinn knew from personal experience what happens if Brittany attempts to cook. They had taken a cooking class together in high school. Which resulted in several burned off eyebrows and on occasion a bad case food poisoning. After that it just seemed safer for everyone if Brittany didn't cook alone. She needed supervision in the kitchen. Quinn pulls the egg shells out of the mixing bowl before Brittany pours in the batter in. Santana makes herself comfortable at the kitchen bar, she rests her forehead against the cool granite counter tops, and attempts to will away the ever growing headache. 'Damn hangovers.'
"Here…" Santana opens her eyes and is met with dark brown orbs, the singer sets down a glass of water in front of Santana along with some Advil. "Take these, it should help with the hangover." Rachel says. Santana eagerly downs the water along with the pills.
"Thanks…" she says as she finishes the water. She looks at Brittany who seemed to be as lively as ever, she was dancing around the kitchen while Quinn tried to help her make the waffles. "She's not at all hungover is she." Santana groans as Rachel and her watch the two blondes fight over the mixing bowl.
"Nope… Brittany has the craziest ability to drink like a sailor on leave, and not feel like road kill the next day. I'm Rachel by the way, um did you want a cup a coffee?" The brunette asks.
"Santana… and I would love a cup of coffee." Rachel quickly pours her a cup seeing she was sitting next to the coffee maker then passes it to the Latina who was back to resting her head against the counter top.
"Do you take it black?" Santana just nods.
'Aw sweet sweet coffee, how I love you.' she then hears the sizzling of bacon and looks to see Quinn dropping several strips into the skillet. Now normally she avoided eating bacon, but for some reason it sounded so good, probably because greasy foods were like an orgasm in your mouth the day after you drank. I mean you already feel like shit, might as well indulge, right?
"Quinn… I think the waffles are burning." Brittany says.
"I thought you were watching them!" Quinn rushes over to the blonde's side and opens the waffle maker.
"I was… that's why I told you." They were indeed burnt, that makes Santana smile. Now the two blondes are now frantically running around the kitchen to try and salvage the food, which in the end lead to the fire alarms going off and the bacon to become extra extra crispy. Quinn actually ended up burning herself on the skillet too. But nobody died… or was missing any eyebrows, so it was deemed successful in Brittany's book.
In the end it was still one of the best breakfasts Santana had in a long time, seeing as she usually didn't eat anything in the mornings, other than a cup of instant coffee. Which Santana found out really wasn't considered food since there was nothing nutritional in coffee.
"So… Santana, what do you do?" Quinn asks as she munches on the extra crispy bacon. Santana pours more syrup on her burnt waffles before taking a bite.
"Um… I work at the stadium mostly… whenever there are games at least. Otherwise I pick up random jobs here and there." She really just didn't want to talk about her other jobs, which usually consisted of cleaning other people's houses, or running errands for people. Oh and there was also the racing circuit, which usually brought in some money if she had money to bet that night. Lately she was just having trouble filling her gas tank on her bike, and paying her rent.
"That sounds interesting." Rachel says as she tries to choke down another piece of burnt waffle. Somehow Brittany got the only non-burnt waffles and was happily eating them while her friends interrogate Santana. Santana kept sending pleading glares to her to try and get her to change the subject, but Brittany seemed just as interested in finding more out about the blonde. "And you live where again?" Rachel finishes.
That was the one question Santana tried to avoid, usually when people heard about where she lived they thought she was a one) in a gang, or two) a streetwalker of some kind.
"Oh… I'm currently looking for a new place to live… the place I'm at now is in the worst part of town. But it has cheap rent so…" this is how she usually avoided answering that question, and it was true… she was always looking for a better place to live, anything could be considered an upgrade to the place she was at right now. "What about you guys… Brittany mentioned that you were an item." Santana says before the girl can ask her more questions.
"Oh… uu-mm y-yeah…" Quinn stutters.
"We've been dating since college, we live just down the road from Brittany, in that white house… it's not actually ours, but what Quinn's parents don't know won't hurt them." Rachel explains rather quickly.
"They still live in Lima, Ohio… which is where Brittany and I grew up, we moved out here for school… well I did at least…" Quinn cuts off so Brittany can finish.
"I moved here to race."
"Huh, sounds exciting." Santana read about how Brittany was scouted right out of high school to join the minor league circuit, it was in Sports illustrated or something…
"So have you always lived here?" Rachel asks.
"Um… no we… I mean I move around a lot… I just moved back here from New York…"
"Whoa… you lived in New York… like the city?" Rachel beams. "I've always wanted to go there… it's like my dream to sing on Broadway. You must tell me everything about it." She finishes Santana on the other hand doesn't know where to start.
"Um… huh, yeah the city… I moved there to get married actually, but it turns out the bitch was cheating on me… so I moved back, otherwise it was okay?"
"Wait you were engaged? How old are you?" Brittany looks almost anxious, it was cute.
"I'm only 24, and It was one of those things you realize was a big mistake… we just rushed into things… and it turns out she was a total hose bag… so… I'm over it now." Santana ends while effectively silencing the rest of the table. She was sure they wanted to ask her more questions but were probably afraid to now.
Breakfast finished and cued the awkward silence once again, Santana looked at her phone it was now 4pm.
"So I hate to eat and run but… I really should get back to my apartment, I'm sure you guys have better things to do today. It was nice meeting you guys, well it was interesting meeting you guys…" She starts to walk towards the door. Brittany was hot on her heels.
"Wait Santana… I'll walk you out." Brittany grabs hold of Santana's arm and escorts her outside. "So… I hope those two didn't scare you away… you still owe me one date before you can disappear from my life." Santana smiles, she is actually kind of excited with the idea of going on a date with Brittany even if it only happens once.
"Oh yeah… so when can I expect this date to occur?" Brittany leads her towards the garage.
"Well I was thinking next Saturday… if you're not busy… but um, it's kind of an all-day thing so hopefully you're okay with spending the day with me."
'Really… I don't think I could say no.'
"Yeah… I mean I don't think I have plans… here give me your phone." Brittany hands Santana her Droid so she can type in her number. She hands it back to the smiling blonde, the whole I slept on top of you almost naked thing was long forgotten. All that was left now was the uncontrollable urge to kiss the blonde. "So text me later… I mean I will need to know the specs for this date… like attire, time, place… you know the important stuff."
"Well I'll send you that on Wednesday… as for the place it's a surprise, but I think you'll enjoy it…" Brittany opens the garage door and Santana comes face to face with her beloved Ducati… it was sitting next to Brittany's white and pink custom super bike. They looked good together. The next thing she noticed was a man currently taking apart Brittany's white beauty.
"Oh, hey you're up." The man looks up when he notices the two girls enter his shop. Santana instantly likes him. There was just something about him that caught her attention… maybe it was because he was covered in grease.
"Oh Santana… this is Blaine… Blaine this is Santana the owner of the Ducati." Blaine extends his hand to Santana who eyes it… normally she would have shaken it, but she still had to drive home and she didn't was to get grease all over her baby. Blaine must realize this and instead goes for the fist bump which Santana quickly responds to.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, I was wondering whose bike this was… I hope you don't mind I looked after your baby for you… 2006 right."
"Yup… she's old but she still runs like the day I installed her supercharger… plus not all of us have money to buy a new bike and put 60 grand into it." Brittany instantly shrugs.
"Well most of the parts are from Brittany's sponsors, she really didn't buy them." Blaine defends Brittany even though it's all in good fun. "Plus without her I wouldn't have anything to work on." He finishes.
"Blaine is my head mechanic… he works on all my vehicles… including my dirt bike. He's like a guardian angel sent from heaven to oil and lube my engine." That came out so wrong… Blaine and Santana both blush Brittany on the other hand hasn't caught on yet. "Well he's a gay guardian angel… but the only one I trust… he's the best Gearhead this city has."
"Thanks Britt, you're too kind." Santana finds herself liking Blaine more and more, and it helped knowing that he wasn't actually lubing Brittany's engine.
"Well I should probably get home… I'll see you later." She gives Brittany a hug and waves to Blaine before straddling her bike. The engine roars to life, Santana pulls on her helmet before shifting into gear. She gives the two one last wave, before driving out of the garage. She made sure to leave burnout marks for Blaine to clean, it would keep him busy after he was done maintaining Brittany's Superbike.
At first Santana had no idea where she was as she sped through the rich neighborhood, her best bet was just to drive towards downtown LA until she found a road she was familiar with. Before she leaves the block she notices the white house Rachel had said they lived in, it was just as big a Brittany's. It was a little daunting trying to figure out where she was exactly… I guess that's what you get when you wake up in another person's home with no recollection on how you got there. But the drive home was nice, it was fun to just cruise around. That was until she got home. At first glance she didn't really notice anything different, until she pulled up to the door, it has been busted into. Someone had broken in. Hopefully for her sake they were long gone. Santana didn't have many things she deemed valuable… her bike was at the top of her list… everything else could be replaced.
She turns off the engine and wheels her bike inside, the place was a disaster. Someone was definitely here and trashed the place, but why.
"Shit." That's when she noticed the very large body lying on her kitchen floor. A body that she knew was Puck's. Santana quickly parks her bike and runs into the kitchen. "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead." She mutters over and over. The next thing she notices is the blood. "Shit… fuck… fuck!" She starts to panic. She rolls him over, Puck looked like he'd been hit in the face with a baseball bat. There were cuts and bruises forming and his eyes were almost swollen shut, she also noticed the gash on his head that was bleeding profusely. 'Shit.' She was worried for a moment and just as she was about to check for a pulse Puck slowly opened his eyes. "Thank god… you're not dead." She exhales the breath she'd been holding and sniffs back the worried tears that had started to pool when she'd seen the body. "Puck… man what the fuck happened?" But before she can get any solid answers the man passes back out. Santana was relieved he was okay and for the moment still alive, she figured he might have a concussion but hopefully that was it.
Instead of taking concussed Puck to the ER, Santana ops for putting him on the couch. She can tell he was bruised badly and bleeding but at least he didn't have any broken bones. She also knew taking him into the emergency room was a bad idea, since neither of them had medical insurance, and there was no way either of them could afford paying out of pocket. I mean $4000 just for a room, really? That was ridiculous. Santana did the best she could patching her friend up. She stopped the bleeding coming from the gash on his head and even found some frozen vegetables in her freezer and used for an ice pack. She was tempted to use a sewing kit to help stitch up some of the bigger gashes, but decided against it… she wasn't a doctor nor was she going to pretend to be one. Santana gave Puck a hard time, but the truth was Puck was family, and the only family she had at the moment. If she ever found out who did this to him she was going to make their life a living hell. In the meantime all she could do was wait for her friend to wake up. Puck hadn't woke up all night, Santana ended up sleeping on the floor next to the couch… she didn't want to sleep in the other room in case he woke up in the night. In the end she knew she'd probably would have to move, in this neighborhood you at least needed a lock on your door. Without one you'd wake up in the morning to a cleaned out apartment, and she wasn't exaggerating, it happened to her last neighbor.
Sundays morning she woke up when she heard Puck gasp awake. "Hey." She says when he looks at her.
"Hey." Puck's voice sounds groggy, Santana gets up from the floor and goes into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. She also grabs some pain killers…
"Here… take these." She hands him the cup of water and two pills.
"Vicodin? Really Santana this is all you have for pain medicine?" He jokes as he swallows the pills. The room goes quiet again. Santana would have thought Puck had fallen asleep if she hadn't been watching him.
"So… are you going to tell me what the fuck happened or am I going to have to guess." Puck didn't respond. "Look Puck I need to know what happened are you in some sort of trouble?"
"You lost." He says quietly. Santana gives him a questioning glare.
"What?"
"The race… you lost last night." Puck says, he was starting to feel the effects of the pain pills. "I placed a large bet on you last night, and you lost." There it was, the reason Puck got the shit beat out of him.
"You borrowed money again." It wasn't a question.
"From the Russians…" he says finishing her sentence. "I thought It was a sure thing… you've never lost a street drag especially when it was a pink slip race, so I placed 40 grand on you last night and lost it."
"You bet 40 grand on me… are you crazy? What the fuck were you thinking!"
"Santana you have to understand… I mean… this is your fault!"
"My fault… how is this my fault!" She screams at him. "I had nothing to do with you betting that much on me! Don't you dare put that shit on me… you took that risk, not me!" her anger was about to boil over.
"Well, what am I supposed to think… you're a great racer San, but the only reason you were undefeated was because you weren't afraid to do whatever it took to win. And then last night you let some blonde Barbie beat you… did you just throw the race?"
"Brittany was better than me!"
"Wait you know her?" The fight stops there. They take a minute to cool down before things got out of hand.
"Look I met Brittany before, at the stadium… she a professional racer, not some amateur… she had a faster bike and won, that's the end of it."
"Wait you know Brittany Pierce?" Santana nods, she watches as Puck finally smiles, it looks painful but at least she knew his sleaze was still fully intact. "Nice… so are you tapping that?" And apparently so was his modesty.
"Puck!" He gives her his signature smirk. "You are unbelievable, and no I'm not tapping that…" yet, "but if you must know she's taking me out next Saturday."
"Aw… I knew you got lucky… damn Brittany Pierce is hot. I would be all over that."
"Puck… look can we focus on your problems here." Puck had almost forgotten he was currently injured due to the fact he came up close and personal with a man's fist. That Vicodin was working its magic… he laughs to himself. "Focus Puck… how much time do you have to get the money."
"Vlad said by Wednesday… otherwise his goons were going to come back and rearrange my body permanently." He shrugs it off.
"Fuck… where are you going to get that kind of money by then… your lazy ass doesn't even have a job."
"Well I was thinking…" she already knew where this was going.
"No, Puck I'm not doing that."
"Please Santana…" Puck whines "look all we need to do is steal one… that should cover my loan to the Russians than we can go back to our normal shitty lives."
"I'm not doing it… I told you the last time that it was the last time, and I meant it. So there can be no more times… I will not work for that stupid muscle head."
"Brucie isn't that bad… plus he's the only place that pays full price for a vehicle. Look you know I'd do it myself… but I don't have the skills like you do, just this once I promise then I'll never ask again… " He gives her another pout. "I promise." Santana tries to resist… she knew Puck needed to learn from his mistakes so the thought of telling him no probably would be better to reform him. But she also knew that the Russians were serious about collecting debts, if Puck didn't pay up by Wednesday there would be no Puck on Thursday.
"Fine…" she groans, "but this is the last time… do you understand me. You need to get a real job and stop borrowing money from people that want to kill you." Puck looks relieved.
"Fuck… thank you Santana… you're a life saver." Literally.
"Yea whatever… just text Brucie and tell him to email me the job details. And tell him to not go all crazy again… it took me months to get over the last job" Puck nods. "You also owe me a new door… and I'm not cleaning this mess up… as soon as you're better you're putting my shitty apartment back to its crappy self, which includes moping your own blood up."
"Man I'll find you a new apartment if you want me to…" Puck quickly sends a text to Brucie who was the owner of the local chop shop, before he falls back to sleep. 'Thank you Vicodin.'
Brucie was well known throughout the underground, he ran one the most successful chop shop in the city. His system was flawless, and he was able to pay top dollar for vehicles. Santana worked on and off for him growing up, that's how she fell in love with racing, and the streets. Brucie was annoying, but he had major connections throughout the city and knew how to run a business. He knew he wasn't at risk if Santana was caught stealing a vehicle, in the end it would be Santana rotting behind bars. She got an email later that night it was short and to the point, it detailed what car she was supposed to steal and where it was going to be. Short and simple, she memorized the picture as well before deleting it from her account. In the past she only reason she stopped stealing cars was because she was dating, she left that world behind for her girlfriend. It was a part of her she didn't think her girlfriend would understand, so she stopped and found a real job. Sure it paid less and had no thrill, but it was safe.
"One last time… then I'm done." She pulls on her helmet and revs her bike to life "We'll time to go to work."
End…
I hope it was okay. It's been a while since I updated and I'm sorry… I've been a little busy with college; anyway I hope it was okay… I don't really know where I'm going with this story, and I end up getting major writer's block with it too. So please review… I like hearing feedback, also if anyone has ideas for the story line let me know and I'll see if I can use it… the only solid thing I have for it is Brittana's first date, otherwise I'm open to opinions… thanks.
Also if you're trying to picture Brucie… think GTA IV
