Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.
A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! Really means a lot that people want to see more of this fic. While I'm here - anyone reading my other Brittana AU, 'Heart of Iron' - the next chapter should be ready in the next few days - it's far from abandoned!
~xxx~
Sometimes, Santana wondered just why she bothered to dry herself after being slushied. Some days it could happen as many as three times; she'd barely dried out before being forced yet again to clean herself up. But today it was for a different reason – it was pouring with rain. Santana stood just outside the school's main doors, sheltered by a small roof that extended over the entrance. The sky was a dark, angry gray; thunder rumbling in the distance. Rain lashed the streets, hitting the ground with such force that it bounced back up in a fine mist. The parking lot was empty, save for a few cars Santana assumed belonged to staff, and there wasn't a student in sight; classes having finished two hours ago.
It was a Tuesday, and that meant Santana and her friends had stayed for their Comic Book Club. She sometimes wondered whether it was really worth it, but she would have been lying if she'd said it wasn't nice to have likeminded people to talk to. While the others had already left, Santana had offered to stay behind to tidy up. Given that all they did was read and talk, they hardly made what could be called a mess. But the Latina was stalling, dreading the walk home; it had been raining all day, and without a car of her own, Santana knew she would likely get soaked.
And so she stood, staring out into the miserable weather, knowing exactly what she had to do. She reached down and grabbed the pile of binders and books that couldn't fit in her bag, before pulling her coat a little tighter around herself and stepping out from her shelter, wincing as the bullet-like drops of water hit her face. Her glasses instantly became as good as useless, and she quickly pocketed them, gritting her teeth as a particularly strong gust of wind blew hair into her face. Forever grateful that no one was there to see her in such a state, Santana set off. The walk home usually took about half an hour on a clear day, but the wind and rain was making it rather difficult to so much as move in a straight line. She tried to focus on other things, desperately attempting to ignore the sting of the rain. But try as she might, it was impossible to pretend she wasn't already drenched; her coat was far from waterproof, and she could already feel the shirt beneath it sticking to her skin.
To say she was uncomfortable would be an understatement.
Santana trudged onwards, wincing every time the wind picked up and blasted against her sodden clothes. She shuddered, clutching her folders closer to her chest and hoping against hope that the plastic covers protecting her science notes weren't leaking. With the thick clouds blocking the sun – which would already be close to setting if it weren't hidden – it was already getting surprisingly dark; the headlamps from passing cars shone through the gloom, illuminating the streaks of rain. If anything, it was only getting heavier.
And just when she thought her struggle home couldn't have been more unpleasant, Santana got the shock her life. She heard the car coming, of course, but was unprepared for it to swerve right up against the curb, driving headlong through the water collected there. The torrent of spray felt more like a wave than a splash as it engulfed the Latina's shaking body, causing her to drop everything she had been carrying. As the books and folders hit the ground, Santana could only stand, rooted to the spot as she watched the car continuing on it's way. And just to top it off, a head appeared from a rear window.
"Loser!" a female voice shouted, to a chorus of male laughter from within the vehicle. Had she been in better spirits, Santana would have mentally scoffed at the childish insult. But at present, she was far from feeling anything other than miserable.
She was certain the voice belonged to Quinn Fabray, but the speed at which it had happened and the roar of the rain made it impossible to place for sure. And besides, Santana was hardly in the mood to care. In contrast to the freezing rainwater, the tears now forming in her eyes were hot, burning down her cheeks as they were absorbed by the rain still hitting her face.
Holding back a choked sob, she slowly bent down to retrieve her scattered belongings. The books were probably ruined, she mused, and by now the folders containing her notes were completely sodden. She heard another car approaching, and half-heartedly braced herself in case more of Quinn's friends were driving it. Instead, and to her surprise, she heard the car come to a stop. For a moment, she panicked – young girl alone in the rain, on her hands and knees on the sidewalk with her ass in the air? Yeah, that's not a neon sign for creepers at all. In a vain attempt to reassure herself, she noted that she was already in a residential area – maybe this person lived here? As if on cue, she heard the car door open and footsteps splashing upon the pavement.
Once again, Santana braced herself, too terrified to look up at this newcomer. But then, surprise filling her again, Santana saw a pair of hands pulling a couple of her books from the sidewalk - someone had stopped to help her. Infinitely grateful, Santana finally dared to look up at this kind stranger, and promptly wished she hadn't.
The last thing she needed while crawling around in the pouring rain was to be rendered speechless by Brittany Pierce's bright blue eyes.
The blonde only looked at her for a second, before grabbing the last book and standing back to full height. Without a word, she pulled the door open and threw Santana's books onto the passenger seat, before settling into the driver's seat herself. Santana stood there, frozen in place as she stared. This wasn't real, was it? Brittany Pierce had just shown up out of nowhere – in pretty much the most badass looking black classic car Santana could think of – and had helped her pick up her books. But then…surely that meant…
"Get in," Brittany said. She didn't raise her voice over the rain, but Santana understood. She wanted to argue; to ask if this was some kind of joke; planned as a follow-up to Quinn's friends splashing her. But after the horrendous experience she had had only getting halfway home, she didn't care. Moving quickly, Santana stepped around the car and climbed in, grabbing the books Brittany had rescued and stacking them with the others. The moment Santana closed her door, they were moving. The engine purred a low rumble – Santana was no car expert, but even she couldn't help but be impressed by the vehicle she now found herself in.
She swallowed, and finally turned her attention to the driver. Brittany looked almost bored, and made no sign of acknowledging the Latina's presence. Whether through embarrassment or fear, Santana was unable to form words, and instead turned her eyes to the windshield. She wanted to ask a hundred and one questions – why had Brittany Pierce of all people stopped to help her? Why was she driving her – wait, where was she driving her? Did Brittany know where she lived?
Of course, the cruel laws of reality would have Brittany interrupt just as the shorter girl was about to finally speak.
"Santana, right?" she asked, still not turning to the other girl.
"Yeah," the brunette replied quietly, silently thrilled that Brittany Pierce actually knew her name. Although, she reasoned, maybe that was simply due to how often people called her name in the corridors and then pretended they didn't.
"Any reason you were out there?" Brittany continued. "Or do you just like getting soaked down to your superhero granny panties?"
"I…uh…don't have a car," the Latina mumbled, her cheeks reddening despite the cold.
"You're shitting me," the blonde scoffed, and for a brief moment she turned to the other girl. Those eyes. "Seriously?"
"Well I never really needed one…" Santana said, her voice still quiet and unsure under Brittany's gaze. "I live close enough to school, you see, and that's all I'd use it for – no point paying for gas and insurance when it's the only trip I'd make."
"Yeah, but what happens if you wanna go out somewhere?" Brittany went on, frowning and smirking at the same time. "Don't you and your legion of geeks go to those convention things or something?"
"Uhh…yeah, but Sam has a car, so…" the brunette trailed off, looking away. This was really happening, wasn't it? She was in Brittany S. Pierce's car, not being beaten to a pulp, having a conversation with her. Maybe she'd slipped over in the rain and this was all a hallucination?
"Don't think I could live without mine," Brittany's voice cut in, wrenching Santana from her thoughts.
"Well it's a gorgeous car," Santana said quickly, looking around again as if to emphasise her point. "It's in really good condition."
"It was a barn find," Brittany said, tapping the steering wheel fondly. "When I found it, the only people who'd been in it for ten years were a family of really pissed off mice."
At that, Santana couldn't help but laugh. She leant back into the headrest, still chuckling at the blonde's words. It wasn't until she realised Brittany was staring at her, stony faced, that her own smile faded and she once again went red. "I…uh…that was funny, I thought…"
"When I first moved here, I spent the summer wandering around a load of fields and woods," Brittany explained, clearly ignoring Santana's embarrassing moment and turning to the road again. "Found this baby and had it brought home. Gave me something to do, I guess."
"You must have been pretty far out; I didn't even know we had fields and woods," Santana commented, but Brittany just shrugged.
"I had a lot of free time."
"I thought you had loads of friends, though?" the Latina went on, her voice a little stronger now. "Didn't they want to do anything with you?"
"Fuck no," Brittany scoffed, shaking her head. "I know a lot of people, sure – but they're not what'd I'd call friends." She let out a deep breath. "I only ever really had one friend, and he's off fucking little miss perfect cheerleader."
"You mean Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray?"
"Woah, easy there genius – don't wear that brain of yours out on my account." Santana turned away, hating herself for a brief moment; the aggressive tone in Brittany's voice had sent a familiar jolt down her spine.
"I had no idea you and Noah used to be friends," she said quietly. For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Brittany's eyes; sadness? Regret?
"We still hang out sometimes," the blonde said, shrugging again. "But Puck came here a whole year before I did. By the time I arrived, that bitch had her claws in him."
That made sense. Puck had arrived at the start of sophomore year, Brittany at the start of junior year. No one really knew much about the school they had gone to before McKinley, but people assumed it must have been in a bad area to have produced both Puck and Brittany. Santana suddenly found herself curious as to just what made the both of them move schools, and a year apart from each other at that. And yet, she felt something strange bubbling inside her as she pondered.
"Were you and he…um…" The Latina murmured, realising a little too late that the feeling had been jealously. 'I thought you were telling yourself it was just a crush, Lopez,' a voice in her head scoffed. 'You suck.'
"No, never," Brittany replied, clearly oblivious to Santana's internal conflict. Still, she didn't exactly sound happy. "Puck's not my type. And I certainly don't want anyone who's been near Fabray."
"So…what…uh…is your type?" Santana asked before she could stop herself. She instantly regretted it, as at that exact moment, the car screeched to a halt. The brunette rocked forwards, seatbelt cutting into her briefly. She looked ahead, but could only see rain illuminated by the headlamps. Was Brittany just going to dump her here? She couldn't blame her; that question had been out of line. Still, walking the rest of the way in the rain – maybe if she apologised…
"We're here."
"What?" Santana looked up and found the blonde staring at her, once again expressionless.
"This is your place, right?" Brittany asked, nodding at her window. Santana squinted; the gloomy street beyond the window was a blurry haze. With even more embarrassment, she remembered her glasses were still in her pocket. She quickly pulled them out, wiped the lenses, and put them back on. Instantly, the familiar exterior of her home came into focus. She still wanted to know exactly how Brittany knew where she lived, but she got the distinct impression that she'd asked enough questions for tonight.
"Oh, yeah," she finally managed, gathering her books together. "Thanks, Brittany."
"Gonna start charging a fare if you don't get out in the next five seconds," the blonde said, and Santana found herself unable to tell if she was joking or not.
Quickly, she pulled the door open and stepped onto the sidewalk. But before she closed it again, she leant down and poked her head back in.
"Thank you," she said, giving the blonde what she hoped came across as a friendly smile. Brittany glanced at her, and simply nodded. Santana had hoped to get another smile out of the blonde, but clearly that was out of the question. Instead, she straightened up and closed the door. She stepped back; despite the rain continuing to beat down upon her, she still wanted to see the other girl off. After a moment, the engine let out what could only be described as a growl, and the car moved off into the dark.
Santana watched until Brittany's taillights had vanished, and no amount of rain or wind could dull the warmth within her chest. Whether or not she and the blonde would ever speak again, she didn't know; but she was glad she had had this brief chance.
Not many people could say they had been given a ride home by Brittany S. Pierce.
~xxx~
For anyone wanting an idea of what Brittany's car looks like, it's a black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS, restored to like-new condition. Was gonna stick a name reference in, but it just felt forced, like a lot of real-world references do in fanfic.