Does It Ever Rain In LA?

by bobbieyoung

An unexpected encounter between two strangers... slow burn. Re-upload.

1. Part I

Chapter 1 *Lights*

"Did you write that interview while sleeping? Seriously it's just badly written. You do know that this internship is your possibility to make it big, right? Don't screw it up, Lopez."

Ugh! I know that this is the one chance I have but why does Shelby hate me so much? Did I ever do something to offend her? I don't think so! All I ever do is kiss her ass all day long and let her boss me around. She thinks I'm her personal assistant. Just because I'm an intern and she's twenty years older doesn't mean she can treat me like her servant.

I admit - she's a genius art director and everything she touches turns into gold. I could definitely learn a lot from her but it would be much more pleasant if I didn't have to run for coffee or a bagel every ten minutes. She loves bossing me around when she's not even my real boss. Sue Sylvester is. Compared to her Shelby is an angelic creature who just wants to play a bit.

That's what you get when you accept an internship at the Sylvester-Magazine. It's the best magazine in the country. No question. But working here isn't just about glamour and fun. It's hard work! Especially when Shelby asks me to do about fourteen different tasks at a time.

However… our magazine covers pretty much everything around entertainment. I'm working with or rather for Shelby Corcoran in the celebrity department. Not as much fun as it sounds… truly not.

After spending hours on that interview with a newcomer actor – a rising star in the business I had never heard of before (which caused quite an embarrassing moment or two), Shelby basically shredded it with her fingers and told me to do it all over again. I don't know how to do that. I think it was pretty good and also my co-worker Quinn Fabray liked it when I showed it to her.

It's personal, obviously. I can rewrite it a hundred times and all Shelby will say is: 'You could do better'. So I'm not even going to try. I'll just exchange a couple words and rephrase two or three sentences. That's it.

/

Ok. It's official. It's the worst day in history. Someone left an ugly scratch on my car. That's exactly what I needed after a ten-hour day. Because that interview-fail thing happened before lunch but then my day really just started. Around three o'clock the fire alert went off and almost gave me and Quinn a heart attack. We ran outside the building to bubble up with hundreds of employees, holding our bags and belongings close to our chests, trying to find out what was going on.

It turned out to be a fire drill. After listening to some further instructions, we were allowed to go back inside. But then a man standing close to us actually had a realheart attack because of the turmoil going on. I supported the man's head in my lap and tried to calm him down while Quinn called an ambulance.

Later they told me that I helped saving the man's life by reacting quickly. I was still trembling when the ambulance drove off to get him to a hospital.

After that Quinn and I decided to go for a strong coffee in the cafeteria to calm the nerves. It helped a bit. Until Shelby spotted me enjoying the "break" and scolded us for not heading straight back to business. I didn't tell her about the man that almost died in my arms. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have given a shit.

I thought the day could not get any worse – until it started raining. I hate the rain. No no, I loathe it. My dad used to call me "sun goddess" and my sister "shade plant" because she got burned so quickly while I could sit there for hours. But rain literally gets me in a bad mood. Not that it happens often around here…

So I'm now standing next to my car, soaked from head to toe, pissed as hell at what I see and also starving. I haven't eaten anything because of all the trouble of today. Now this giant scratch along the driver's door tops it all. Somebody's not going to be happy about this...

Why is this day so shitty? All I want is to get home in no time, watch a movie and order in. I don't want to think about Shelby and everything she'll ask me to do tomorrow…

Once I'm settled in the car and start the engine, I can hardly see through the windshield. Thick raindrops are falling down. I drive slowly between the other cars to not scratch another one along the way and manage successfully. When I'm about to leave the parking lots, I step on the gas. I just want to get out of here.

Bang!

My heart stops and my eyes widen when I see a body getting tossed across the hood of my car. A hideous thud sounds in my ears when it lands on the ground a second later.

My heart starts racing immediately. I'm sure this time I'm next in line to get a heart attack. My knuckles are white because I'm clutching the steering wheel. What just happened?

Cold sweat that comes out of nowhere is forming on my forehead. I'm sick. I want to throw up when I realize that I just hit someone. I freakin' hit someone!

It takes another two seconds until I regain the necessary composure to unbuckle my seatbelt and to open the door with trembling hands. As soon as I get out, the rain continues to beat down on my head. I don't bother anymore though. The only thing I feel is the hammering in my ribcage and the weakness in my legs that almost won't allow me to make my way around the car. I want to close my eyes because I'm scared to death of what scenery will be offered to me once I reach my victim.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…" I cry when I see blonde hair spread across the ground. The next thing I see is a bloody forehead which almost makes me vomit. Eventually my sanity kicks back in and I jump to the body that is lying on the sidewalk next to my car.

"Can you hear me? Hello?" I kneel down to the female body. I do want to touch her and help her up but my fingers are shaking ridiculously. I'm afraid I'll hurt her even more if I touch her. "Miss? Can you hear me? Oh God I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. Please say something!"

The woman is lying on her side, blonde hair covering her face. There is some blood on her forehead and a bruise on her wrist, the jacket ripped on her shoulder. I hold my breath when she stirs. A soft moan comes from her.

"Miss? Can you hear me?" My voice is ridiculously weak. Then I finally reach out to push the hair out of her face. I'm scared to find a nasty scratch across her face or a giant hole in her head but luckily there's just a small wound on her forehead that causes the bleeding. As far as I can see it's not deep. A breath of relief escapes my lungs. A second later my hope gets crushed. What if she has internal bleedings? A concussion? A brain bleeding?

A muffled noise leaves the woman's lips when she finally opens her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Stupid question. She's not alright! I watch how she lifts her head. Slowly she sits up and rests against the tire of my car. Somehow my hands have made their way to her shoulders to help her sit upright.

"Ouch!" She gasps. Quickly I pull back my hand because I just noticed it's the one where her jacked got ripped. I'm guessing she landed on her shoulder when she fell off the hood.

"What? Is it your shoulder? Is it broken?" I say hastily while trying to get a closer look.

"I don't know" The woman mumbles with a shrug. It causes her to wince. Immediate tears form in her eyes.

"Don't move! Keep still, I'll call an ambulance, ok? It might be broken." I reach into my back pocket to get my phone. When I try to unlock it, my fingers are still shaking like leaf. I almost drop the phone.

"It's ok, I don't need an ambulance." The blonde mutters. I stare at her in disbelief because I just hit her with my damn car and she's bleeding!

"What? Of course you need one! Look at you, you might be seriously injured." The woman shakes her head and makes a move to get up on her feet. "No, wait! You shouldn't get up. You might be-"

"Seriously injured, I know." She finishes my sentence with a weak but slightly annoyed voice. "But I'm not. It's just my shoulder. I've had problems with it ever since I was a cheerleader. It's not broken, I know it." She lifts her left shoulder to demonstrate. "Help me up."

She grabs my arm and although I want her to stay where she is to prevent further harm, I offer my hand for support. She takes it and together we manage to get her up on her feet.

"Ok, there you go. Are you sure you can walk? Are your legs fine?" There's a tremble in my voice because I can't quite believe she's standing up.

When I look down at her legs, I see that her pants are drenched from of the rain. Her white sneakers that look very new are dirty now. When she doesn't answer right away, I look up into her face. For the first time we make eye contact.

For a second it feels like I get pulled into that endless blue of her orbs. I have to blink several times because raindrops are falling from my eyelashes, making my view go blurry. Her one hand is still clutching my arm while the other one is safe in mine. Then I remember that I asked her a question.

"Do your legs hurt? Can you walk?" I repeat. The woman nods softly. But then her eyes roll back into her head and the next thing I know is how she collapses in my arms. Her whole weight presses into me. I have to use all my physical strengths to not sink back to the ground. "Hey! Hey wake up! Miss!"

Panic walls up inside me because unconsciousness is not a good sign. A very not good sign. Her head is on my shoulder. I can feel her hot breath against my collar bone. She's not dead.

With one arm I support her around her waist and with the other I manage to open the passenger door of my car. Carefully I lean into it with the woman's weight still around my shoulders. Somehow I manage to get her into the seat. She opens her eyes lazily and when she looks at me, I can't help but smile.

"There you are. I'm gonna drive you to the hospital now, ok? Because you just lost consciousness for a second there." The woman knits her eyebrows together. She looks at me confusedly.

"I did?" With a nod, I motion for her to pull her head back so I can close the door. As soon as I know she can't fall out anymore I hurry around the car and jump into the driver's seat. It's still raining heavily. I have to gather my thoughts for a second.

"Ok what's the quickest way to get to the hospital?" I mumble. After checking my mental map of L.A. I know where to go. I look to my right to make sure the woman is still awake. She's fumbling on the seatbelt, but her arms seem too weak to pull at it. "Oh wait, let me help you."

I lean over her body to grab the seatbelt. I pull it across her chest and fasten it to make sure she's safe.

"Are you alright? You think you'll make it to the hospital?" I ask when I start the engine to finally leave the parking lots.

"I think so… unless you get us into another accident" The woman mumbles. I bite my tongue.

For the rest of the ride we don't talk. I only throw quick glances at her from time to time to make sure she's still awake.

/

Once we get to the hospital she seems to be feeling better. She steps out of the car by herself and only reluctantly takes my arm for support, but I insist. I guide her to the reception and five minutes later we're sitting next to each other in chairs with some papers to fill out.

I take the pen and read the first question.

"What's your name?" I ask her, ready to write it down. She doesn't answer so I turn to look at her. "We need to fill this out. What's your name?"

She closes her eyes for a second which makes me fear that she's losing consciousness again. But then she sighs softly and throws a tired glance at me.

"It's Brittany"

"Ok" I write the name down and wait for her to tell me her last name. When she doesn't do so, I look at her expectantly. "And? I need the whole name."

Brittany touches her forehead and checks her fingers for blood but it has already dried. She takes her time until she parts her lips.

"Spears…" She mumbles.

"Spears?" I almost burst into laughter when I realize what that name would mean in combination with her first name. She sighs again, this time almost a bit annoyed. She grabs the paper and pen from my hand and scribbles something down. I have to narrow my eyes to read 'Brittany S. Pierce'. Oh… right.

She fills out the whole paper by herself. I on the other hand feel dumb. Very dumb. First, I hit her with my car, then I can't even write her name.

We're still waiting for her to get called out so I decide to get into talking to make the uncomfortable feeling go away.

"So, were you on your way home?" I try to sound friendly. It seems to work because this time Brittany answers right away.

"Yeah"

"Me, too. I just got off work. What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing"

"Oh… uhm alright." I don't know what to say because now I feel dumb and embarrassed. Way to start a conversation with a person you almost just killed. She throws a look at me. Her icy eyes pierce into mine.

"I just got back from a job interview and I got it. But I'm not so sure they'll still want me to start tomorrow as I look like a monster with this scratch on my forehead." Brittany explains. It makes the blood in my vein freeze. I liked her better when she was unconscious, I must say.

"Look I'm really sorry I ran you over" I start my apology because I realize that I haven't properly done so, yet. "I was in a hurry and it was raining. I really didn't see you…"

The blonde hisses with a pointed look.

"Yeah well maybe you should turn on your lights next time."

I'm speechless because I swear to God I the lights were on. I never drive with the lights off!

"I did! I didn't see you because of the rain!"

Brittany shakes her head slowly.

"No, they were off… because I didn't see you and therefore, I crossed the street. I wouldn't have done that if I had seen your car coming my way."

My mouth is hanging open because I can't believe what she's accusing me of. Yeah, I hit her with my car but I didn't do it on purpose!

"That's not true – they were on."

Brittany shrugs, then grabs a magazine from the small table next to her seat. She opens a random page before her eyes roam over the content of an article.

"They were on…" I repeat rather to myself than saying it to Brittany. Who does she think she is? I already feel bad enough.

"They were not." She mumbles. I almost don't catch it. I want to protest because this is getting ridiculous but then a woman calls her name to let us know that Brittany's next. I get up with her in order to follow but she turns around. It almost causes another crash.

"I'll go alone." She states convincingly. Of course she's going alone! Why did I get up? She's not my child or anything! I nod and sit down in my chair again. "You don't have to wait. I'll get a cab home. Thanks"

She's already walking away when I call her back.

"Wait! Please let my drive you home, I feel really bad. It's the least I can do to make sure you get home safe." Brittany turns around. One of her eyebrows is pulled up.

"Make sure I get home safe?" She asks mockingly. "I think it's a little too late for that." Okay, that's enough. If she doesn't want my help – no problem.

"Fine. I just wanted to help but you know what? I just lost interest in your wellbeing. Sorry for trying to be nice after hitting you with my car." I'm a bit surprised about my reaction. Brittany just looks at me and tilts her head slightly.

"Whatever you say." She mumbles unimpressed. Then walks away without looking back.

I'm still standing there with my hands on my hips and anger boiling up inside me. My eyes follow her until she's gone around a corner. Unbelievable!

"Bitch" I mumble and earn an offended look from an old lady sitting across me. "Oh! Not you! Sorry…"

I grab my bag and my jacket and then leave the hospital as quick as possible and way more upset than I want to be.

/

Everything hurts when I get home. My head, my feet, my back, my arms… What a crappy day. I drop my bag and kick off my shoes before I walk into the living room. There are voices coming from the television but when I reach the couch there is no one there. I sigh and grab the remote control to turn it off before I disappear in the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later I have showered, eaten a few bites of some leftovers, brushed my teeth and I'm on my way to bed. Carefully I open the door to not make too much noise and only turn on the small light on my bedside table. I throw a quick glance to the other side of the bed and smile when I see that my husband's fast asleep.

Within seconds I put on my sleeping clothes and once I'm under the sheets, I turn off the lights. I turn to the side so I can look at Gabe in the dark. Although he's sleeping, he looks exhausted. Probably had a hell of a day, too. But also he looks bit older than usual…

Well… he is 37 and therefore fourteen years older than me but still. Tonight he looks different. He's working way too much… but as a doctor with such promising skills he can never say no to anything. He's always there whenever somebody needs his help. I only knew what to do when this man had a heart attack because Gabe has told me so many times. It finally paid off.

I could have brought this Brittany girl to his practice. He would have taken care of her right away. But it's on the other side of town and I'm sure he had enough to do anyways.

When I close my eyes the pictures of today wash over me. I wince. The body on my windshield, the blood on her forehead… the man with the heart attack driving off with the ambulance.

I move closer to my husband and grab his wrist.

"Gabe?" I whisper and hope dearly that he'll wake up. But he doesn't. Whenever he sleeps, he sleeps like a rock. I sigh and turn on my back to stare at the ceiling.

What if she had serious injuries that I couldn't see? What if she collapsed again and I will never know that she died in the hospital right after I left?

But then again she seemed fine. She even snapped at me. Why was she so mean? On one hand I hope to see her again so I can apologize properly and pay for the hospital bill – shoot! I didn't give her my number. She doesn't even know my name. Why didn't she ask for it? It's sort of in her interest, right?

But on the other hand, I hope our ways won't cross again. Because I don't know how to handle someone like her. I don't even know what that means.

But I definitely had the lights on…

---

Chapter 2 *Pictures*

In another part of town…Brittany…

Brittany S. Pierce turns the key in the lock and slowly steps into her dark apartment. It's hot inside – is the heat broken again? Shit… she heads straight to the fridge and opens the freezer to get herself some ice. But she doesn't have some so she takes a pack of frozen peas instead. How long have they been in there? She should definitely go through her freezer and sort out all the old stuff that must be poisonous by now. She scuffs across the living room and sinks down on her tiny couch. With a hiss she presses the peas against her forehead. It aches terribly.

The doctor said her head is fine with a mild concussion. She was lucky. It's just her shoulder. But that probably isn't the fault of the woman who ran her over. Brittany has been working out too much and not given her already damaged shoulder some needed rest.

Still - this whole accident was so not necessary! Why did it have to happen today? Oh well, it's not like she has enough energy to get really upset about it. She would have ripped the brunette into pieces for hitting her with that ugly car if she had been in the mood. The woman could have turned the lights on and none of this would have happened.

She probably should have asked for her number because not only her body got damaged but also the phone in her pocket broke when she landed on that windshield. Who's gonna pay for a new one? It was an old one but still… how's she supposed to call Puck and tell him she's not up for drinks tonight? It's late anyways… not that she actually cares because she's pretty much lived the life of a ghost in the past two years anyway but she has to get up early tomorrow if she wants to make it to that job. Rachel and Puck will kill her if she doesn't go.

Only thanks to Rachel she got the job interview. Luckily that old grimly grandmother boss gave her the job. Not that Brittany actually cares. She just did it for the money. She's a freelancer so she'll do the job, take the money and leave again after three months. It's okay.

Her glance wanders around in her small appartment. She doesn't possess many things. There's one giant television pinning on the wall – her best friend next to Puck.

Then her eyes land on the picture on a small table next to the couch. It's the only picture she's got framed in this apartment and actually the only picture she's got left. Of them together.

It's always been Brittany's favorite picture of her and Diane. They are sitting in the backseat of Brittany's first car and licking popsicles. Diane is holding the camera to take the selfie. It's a bit blurry but it doesn't matter. It's an old witness of the good times they had.

The picture was taken a year after they started dating. Back then they were head over heels with each other. That first year was the best. The most carefree one because they were young, twenty-one to be precise and fine. More than fine…

Di looks so pretty in that picture, Brittany thinks. Long blonde hair and her skin tanned and healthy. That silly Popsicle dripping all over her hand... Brittany pulls her glance away, realizing that she's once again reminiscing about times that were long ago. Actually just a year, nine months and ten days but who's counting.

She startles when there's a knock on her door as well a deep voice asks for her.

"Britt? Why aren't you waiting outside? We said 8.30 remember? I wrote you like five messages." Brittany sighs and gets up. She walks across the living room and opens the door to let Puck in. She doesn't look at him when he steps inside but it'll take like two seconds until he notices.

"Holy shit hell, Britt! What the fuck happened to your head? Why is there a bruise on your wrist? Dude?" Brittany motions to the couch. Puck silently follows her. He watches how Brittany steps back into the kitchen and returns with two beers a short while later.

She collapses next to him on the couch, then reaches him a bottle.

"It's nothing much… got hit by a car." She states easily and takes a big sip. Puck's eyes pop out of his head while his mouth hangs open. Instinctively he reaches out and touches her arm carefully.

"What? When? Who was that asshole?" Brittany snickers and takes another sip.

"When I was on my way home from the job interview. I got the job by the way." Puck's smile beams all over his face but then he gets serious again.

"That's great, Britt. But seriously – what happened? Was it intention? On a crosswalk?" Brittany slowly shakes her head.

"Nah… it was just a small street. I didn't see the car pulling out of a parking lot because the bitch behind the wheel didn't have her lights on."

Puck hisses.

"Women can't drive. It should be illegal." He earns a hard slap on his arm and gasps.

"Don't shriek like a girl, Puckerman. I drive a whole lot better than you."

He apologizes with a laugh and then checks out the scratch on Brittany's forehead.

"Guess there will be a tiny scar, huh? But don't worry about it… Scars are sexy. Speaking of; was she at least hot?"

"Who?"

"The gal who ran you over, duh. I assume she took you to the hospital or something?" Brittany stares into her bottle and thinks about it. Every sane person on earth would have thought she was hot. She was insanely beautiful to be honest. When Brittany was sitting on the ground leaning against the car and the woman was hovering over her to have a look at Brittany's shoulder - she totally checked out her boobs and they were… really nice.

They were practically pressed into her face so it's not like she had any other choice but to look. She was too dizzy to enjoy anyways. But it doesn't matter if she was hot. Brittany couldn't care less.

"No" She answers and rests the cold bottle against her forehead. Puck chuckles. He puts his feet on the small table in front of them. He takes the remote control that is lying on the couch and turns on the TV.

"Liar…" He mumbles after zapping the channels. Then they fall silent. They watch a rerun of Beverly Hills – their guilty pleasure and well-hidden secret – and drink a second beer. They do this way too often. Just hanging out in front of the TV at either her or Puck's place and do nothing. They could go out and have fun. Well, Puck does so every now and then. A year ago Brittany would join him all the time.

They got hammered until they couldn't walk straight or pick up girls at bars one after the other so they could forget. Puck wanted to forget about his son that he wasn't allowed to see and Brittany wanted to forget about… Diane.

It did work out for her at first. She slept with so many girls that she lost counting. But it only worked for a couple months. Once it stopped working she decided to just be depressed and bitch at everyone she cared about. She didn't have to pretend to be alright, she just snapped at everyone around her so they would leave her alone. She almost lost Puck and Rachel as her friends. But they stayed. They are the only ones who stayed.

/

Two hours later Brittany sinks into bed, feeling utterly exhausted. She grabs the "new" phone from the bedside table to set the alarm. When she told Puck that her phone was broken, he didn't hesitate and gave her his. He possesses like seven different phones so Brittany accepted. He's a real good friend.

This phone is ten times better than her old one. She should get hit by cars way more often.

Then she would make the brunette feel bad over and over again by telling her that she didn't need a ride home, too afraid that they wouldn't arrive safely.

Maybe that was a little harsh… but she deserved it. Just because she's pretty doesn't mean that Brittany isn't mad about it. It freakin' hurt! Weird thing is though; it almost felt good to feel the pain when getting tossed through the air and landing on the hard, cold concrete. It reminded her that she still feels things.

And when the woman helped her up and they shared eye contact, it was like a sharp something stabbed her heart-

What the hell? Why is she thinking about this? This is so not what she wants to think about right now! The woman almost killed her and that's why she'll think of her as… as bad! If they everwalk into each other again, Brittany will make clear that she'll blame her forever.

But they're not going meet again anyways so that is off the table.

---

Santana's POV… the next morning…

The scent of coffee is like medicine to my brain. I haven't slept this awfully in years. I couldn't fall asleep until 3am and then I had the weirdest dreams. I was homeless and tried to sell very solid windshields on the streets. Short hours later the alarm clock woke me up in a very ungentle way.

"Good morning" Gabe greets me when I step into our giant kitchen. It's really huge. Our whole apartment is huge. I could never ever afford it if I was alone. Gabe won't let me pay for rent as long as I'm an intern because let's just say he makes enough money to easily afford three of these apartments. He loves to spoil me so I never really tried to convince him any other way. But once I make a decent salary I'll insist on paying half of the rent.

"Hey babe" I walk up to him and press my lips to his for a good morning kiss. He grins when he reaches me a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar – the way I need it to wake up. I'll probably need more than one today though.

"Did you sleep alright?" He asks with his eyebrows pulled up. I take the chair in front of him at the kitchen counter and pour some milk into my cereals that are already on the table.

"Ugh… I had the worst day. Then I had trouble falling asleep."

"What happened? Did Shelby invent a new in-between job you have to do? That woman is such a beast."

I chuckle when I see the anger in Gabe's eyes whenever he talks about Shelby. He hates her for the way she treats me because no matter how hard I try – it's never enough. Quinn and I could write an identical article or advertisement text and Shelby would hate mine and love Quinn's.

"No, it wasn't Shelby this time. Well at first it was. She didn't like my interview and pretty much told me I'm an incompetent idiot. Then there was a fire drill and an elder man had an actual heart attack." Gabe's eyes widen. "Thanks to your instructions I helped saving his life."

He grins widely and high-fives me over the counter.

"That's my wife. But it does sound like a real bad day. Anything else happened?"

"Actually I-" I hold my breath and narrow my eyes. Gabe's glance is wandering over the headlines of the newspaper in front of him. I was just about tell him about what happened once I got off work but suddenly something inside me keeps me from doing so. I don't know what it is but somehow it feels like this is something I will never tell anybody.

"Uhm… someone must have bumped into my car. There is a scratch along the driver's door." Gabe looks at me funnily.

"You sure it wasn't you who bumped into someone else?"

"What? Why would you think that? The scratch was there when I got to my car! I didn't hit anyone!" Suddenly my voice is loud and I realize that I'm acting weird when Gabe gives me a puzzled look.

"I know, baby I was just messing with you. I only said that because two months ago you hit our garden fence when you drove my car for the first time, remember?" He says quickly with an apologetic expression.

"Oh" I do remember. "Well your car is huge, ok?" I mumble softly and hide my face behind the coffee mug. I pretend to read the information on the box of cereals but throw a stolen glance at Gabe. If I told him that I actually hit a real-life person yesterday then…

"I might be a couple minutes late tonight." He states. He gets up from his chair to put the dishes away.

"Huh?"

"We're having dinner with your parents, did you forget? 7pm. I probably won't make it on time but I'll be there, promise." He pecks my cheek before disappearing into our bedroom.

Right… dinner with my parents. I can't wait.

/

"Don't get me wrong but you look like shit today. Did Shelby already show up and insult you?" Quinn asks when she sits down at her desk. She's wearing a sun hat because the weather is lovely today – almost as if yesterday never happened – and looks like a breeze of summer actually. I don't know how she does it. She always looks like she lives on a catwalk. She doesn't even have to put much effort into it. She's a natural.

"Gee thanks, Quinn. That's how I want you to always greet me from now on. Makes me feel awesome." I mumble with my eyes glued to the computer in front of me. I've been here for thirty minutes, working on the stupid interview that Shelby wants on her desk by ten pm. Quinn always shows up later than me but Shelby would never say something. If it was the other way round then it wouldn't be ok of course.

"Did you have a fight with Gabe?" Quinn asks when she turns on her computer. I look up and raise my eyebrows.

"What makes you think that?"

"Just because you look tired. I thought maybe you're having trouble or something."

"No we didn't have a fight. Everything's alright. I just didn't sleep well. Can I not sleep well once without you assuming that my marriage isn't going well?" I snap. Quinn shoots a wondering glance across the room.

"Someone's in a bad mood today…" She mumbles while focusing on the papers in front of her.

For the rest of the morning we don't talk about my lack of sleep or about my marriage. It's probably better this way.

/

Five minutes early I'm standing in front of Shelby's office, the corrected interview printed out in my left hand and a big can of coffee in my right.

"Come in!"I hear her voice from inside after I knock on the door.

"Oh, Santana there you are! I need my caffeine, thanks." Shelby babbles once I've stepped inside and walked across the office to Shelby's desk. She accepts the coffee out of my hand first and takes a couple sips before she reaches for the interview.

I decide to stand there and wait for her comment – better get it over with now. I observe Shelby. How she puts on her glasses and reads a couple lines of my interview. She's wearing a nice purple dress. Her hair is dark and silky, spreading over her shoulders.

All the guys here at Sylvester magazine have a secret crush on her despite the fact that she freaks them out. I can't really blame them. She is an attractive woman. Physically. But inside she's a demon. The Satan's child and Sue Sylvester is the Satan. Yeah…

"Well, well…" She states before dropping the paper on her desk. I hold my breath when Shelby tilts her head to the side and then parts her lips. "I guess you did better than last time." I exhale because these words from Shelby Corcoran mean you did great.

"But" There it is. Of course it's not just fine. "You see… I know you're new in this whole celebrity department with interviews and reports and stuff. So far you've done much more work as a copy writer and therefore you're gonna need some more practice."

I knit my eyebrows together because I don't know what comes next. Why do I need more practice and Quinn doesn't? Honestly I think I write better than Quinn. I'm not trying to be too self-assured here. "And therefore it comes in quite handy that Sue has hired a new co-worker yesterday."

Something rotates in my brain. She didsay something about a new journalist to join our team but that was before the fire alarm system went off and I didn't think about it anymore.

"She's one of the best. She's got sources no one else has ever heard of or even thought they might exist. I got to know her right after her job interview with Sue and she completely blew me away." I swallow. Suddenly I feel like the air is getting thinner in here. It couldn't be… could it?

"She's young, she's clever and she writes and takes pictures like a God. But mostly – she knows people. She knows how we can get those interviews and she knows how to write them. Santana, you're gonna learn a lot from her." The panic must be written all over my face because if this turns out to be what I currently think it might be then…

Knock-knock!

Shelby and I both turn our heads towards the door. I swallow emptily.

"Oh that must be her!" Shelby exclaims and gets up from her chair with a happy expression on her face. It feels like slow motion when I watch Shelby walking to the door and opening it with a grin on her face that makes me want to punch her. But what reaches my eyes once the door is open tops it all.

There she is… tall, blonde, wearing skintight jeans, heels and a black blazer stands the woman I hit with my car not even twenty-four hours ago. The scratch on her forehead is covered with a very subtle band aid. You almost don't see it anyways because her wavy blonde hair is way too distracting. She steps inside but once our glances meet she stops abruptly. We stare at each other for like seconds without saying a word.

"Brittany it's good to see you again today, we were just talking about you. This is one of my interns, Santana Lopez. She's part of the team." Shelby then turns towards me and points to the blonde next to her. "Santana this is Brittany Pierce, a freelance journalist. She's going to be working with us for the next three months."

I awake from my trance-like state when Brittany makes a step towards me, her hand reaching out. Before I know it we're shaking hands. Crystal blue eyes pierce into mine.

"So it's Santana Lopez…" She states calmly but I'm pretty sure to make out a dangerous flash in her eyes. "Now that's what I call a surprise." She adds with no actual recognition in her voice or face.

We're still holding hands when I finally remember how to speak.

"Uhwe-blcome-u" comes out of my mouth. It looks like I do not remember how to speak coherently. Shelby stares at me like I'm from a different planet. Something in the corner of Brittany's lips twitches maliciously. Or am I making that up in my mind?

"I mean… nice to meet you, Brittany." I manage to say after a mental slap to the back of my head. "That's indeed quite a surprise."

I finally pull back my hand because weirdly it's starting to sweat. Shelby looks back and forth between us with her eyebrows almost disappearing below her hair.

"You two already know each other?" She wants to know. I throw a short glance back at Brittany.

"Not exactly." Brittany speaks up and still stares at me with narrowed eyes. "Let's just say we sort of… ran into each other, yesterday." Shelby makes an impressed face.

"Great! Well then I'd say we get straight to business. Brittany, I want to show you around first and show you your office. I know you'll be working at home, too but we still want you to have your own little privacy here. Afterwards we can all have lunch together and get to know each other better. I'd say we discuss the next steps later. I have a really good feeling about this." She says with a smile and touches Brittany's shoulder to guide her back to the door. Before she opens, she turns to me.

"Inform Quinn about lunch, will you? I want that other article we talked about last week ready by three o'clock. Clear?" I bite my teeth together and nod.

"Clear"

Shelby nods satisfied and then opens the door to step outside. Brittany throws another glance over her shoulder. Then the two are gone.

I stand there alone in Shelby's office and scratch my forehead for at least ten minutes. I mean that's just… I don't know the word to describe what's going on inside me right now. I don't think it exists actually. To be teamed up with the person you almost killed – out of all the people in L.A.!

No… that word does not exist.

---

Chapter 3 *Beginnings*

I don't remember too much about the walk back from Shelby's office to mine. It's just two doors further but all I was thinking was: unbelievable…

Quinn gives me another weird look when I sink back into my chair and bury my face in my hands. I peek at her between two fingers. There's a massive urge to tell someone about this ridiculous coincidence.

If I think about it, it's not that big of a coincidence. It's not like I hit a person with my car and then that person showed up again in my life to be my future co-worker. I mean this is exactly what happened BUT Brittany had already applied for the job before I hit her. You cannot compare this whole thing to something like fate or destiny. It's a small, silly coincidence that I hit her with my car in the parking lots of the Sylvester magazine.

"Are you ok?" Quinn asks hesitantly. I let out a long and weepy sigh.

"Can't really say" I mumble between my hands.

"What?"

I lean back in my chair and shrug. "I said I can't really say if I'm ok. Have you heard about that new employee? I mean have you met her?"

"No" Quinn shakes her head unknowingly. "Why? Who is she?"

"Well… it's this fun story. You're gonna laugh... Shelby and Sue have found this geniusjournalist who apparently knows the best sources for our celebrity department and interviews and so on."

"Ok. And that's a funny story?"

"Well… I sort of-" Screw the whole idea of keeping this a secret. "I sort of ran her over with my car yesterday. When I was pulling out of the parking lots – she came out of nowhere!" Still a small amount of panic walls up inside me even though I know she's fine and very vivid, probably just a few doors down the hall. Maybe that's what causes the panic.

Quinn stares at me in shock when she drops the pen in her hand.

"What? You have what?! Santa-"

"No she's fine, ok? She's… she's fine, she's here actually. She's uhm…"

"But wasn't she hurt? Did she have to go to the hospital?" Quinn still has her mouth covered with her hand.

"Little bit" I admit but shrug it off. "But the fact that she showed up for work says that she's back to normal, right? I mean she wouldn't be here if she wasn't alright. Right?"

Quinn must notice the insecurity in my voice and lets her hand run through her hair.

"I don't know. I don't know her. Have you talked to her? Is she mad? She must be furious."

I exhale a frustrated grunt because 'furious' does not really match the blonde's reaction when she saw me. It was rather a silent detestation that she communicated with her frosty glare.

"Sort of. Shelby introduced us properly. She also she wants us all to go for lunch together."

"Ok. Cool. I mean I'm sure she'll be a great addition to the team although you're responsible for her almost death. Shelby must be so mad at you." Quinn snickers but falls silent when she sees the horror in my face. Oh my God Shelby can never find out about this! She'll fire me without batting an eye!

"She doesn't know about it. And this can never change. I'll have to ask Brittany to not tell anyone." So it's a lost battle.

"Good luck with that. But don't worry, my lips are sealed." Quinn promises and winks at me. With that we return to our work. The bad conscience is still nagging at me.

/

It's 12 o'clock when Quinn and I step into a fancy restaurant. Shelby emailed us the address twenty minutes ago so we came here as fast as we could.

I am hungry but when the waiter guides us to the table for 'Corcoran' I sort of lose my appetite. I knew I would have to face the blonde again. During the drive here I was mentally preparing myself and thought of ways to start a possible conversation with Brittany. But when I see her sitting there between Shelby and another woman I get cold feet. I just want to go home and hide in my bed. How can I look into her eyes and not feel like a monster?

I sense Quinn's hand on my lower back. She pushes me further because she must have noticed my hesitation. Something distracts my worries when we approach the table though. At first I didn't recognize the woman sitting on Brittany's left but when all three of them look up I recognize Rachel Berry.

She's also in our fashion department and Shelby's niece. Actually they look like twins which cracks me up every time I see these two together.

"Hello girls, have a seat. We already ordered. I hope a light salad with shrimps is fine?" Shelby greets us and motions to the two empty chairs. I sit down next to her and nod while Quinn thanks her politely.

"Hey guys, it's good to see you! Shelby invited me to join your little group for lunch because." Rachel begins with a big smile on her face. "I totally want to celebrate one of my best friend's first day at work. I'm so glad to have her on board because she's so good at what she does." She beams and earns a smirk from the blonde.

"Don't exaggerate, Rach. But thanks, I'm glad to be here, too for the next three months." Brittany states. Then she reaches her hand to Quinn. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before. I'm Brittany Pierce."

Quinn shakes her hand and throws a short glance at me, probably to make sure that this is the woman I hit with my car.

"Oh hey, it's nice to meet you. I'm Quinn Fabray and an intern like Santana. She told me you've uh- met." Was that last part really necessary? Brittany nods and our glances meet for the first time since we've gotten here.

"That's right. Are you nervous?" She asks me. It sort of puts me off my stride.

"Uhm what?"

Brittany points to my hand. When I look down I see that I'm fumbling with the fork in my fingers. Luckily I don't need to answer the question because two waiters appear at our table and serve us five very expensive looking shrimp salads.

"Bon appétit!" Rachel squeals.

I don't know about this Rachel girl. I've talked to her a couple times during coffee breaks or when I needed something from her. She seems kinda nice and I guess we're colleagues but I'm still glad I share an office with Quinn and not with Rachel. She's just… bit annoying. Quinn and Rachel on the other hand doget along quite well. If I think about it, that's probably the only reason I spend some of my coffee breaks with Rachel in the same room.

During those six months that I've been working for the Sylvester magazine I have made one good friend and that's Quinn. Then there are a couple others that I get along with quite well like Mike Chang or Kurt Hummel who both work in the fashion department, too. Sometimes we go for a drink after work. I guess Rachel kind of belongs to that circle, too but we never do something just the two of us. Like… no thanks.

While we're eating it's mostly Rachel and Shelby who are talking. They are discussing the September edition of the Sylvester and that there might be a few hard months ahead of us because the rival magazines are getting quite big. I learn that Rachel and Brittany went to college together and that Shelby has big hopes in both of them.

I find it weird of her to say this during lunch. It would make me feel pressured, but Brittany seems to put on her poker face. She must sense my eyes on her because suddenly she glares at me causing me to look away quickly.

"Hey Britt" Rachel speaks up with a big spoon of chocolate mousse in her mouth once dessert has arrived. She carefully touches Brittany's forehead. "What happened here? Did you burn yourself with the curling iron again?" She chuckles.

My glance lands on Brittany's forehead. My stomach turns since I know exactly that this isn't the result of a curling iron accident but a very different accident.

From the corner of my eye I see Quinn narrowing her glance and how she turns her head towards me. Shelby watches Brittany wordlessly, waiting for a simple explanation. Once Brittany parts her lips, I mentally say goodbye to my job at one of the best magazines on the northern hemisphere. I stare onto my plate and wait for Brittany to say it.

"Yeah, actually" She states calmly. I hold my breath because I'm not sure what that means. What were Rachel's words? Curling ironer? I slowly dare to look up and find Brittany's eyes on me but we're not making eye contact. She shrugs simply and then takes her glass to guide it to her lips.

"Oh" Rachel looks back and forth between her and Shelby, surprised about the obvious answer. She chuckles again. "How many times have I told you to be careful with that thing?" She takes another spoon of mousse.

The rest of us do the same and the heavenly taste of chocolate in our mouths causes everyone to fall into silence for a moment.

"Excuse me" Brittany says once the waiter has put our dishes away. She gets up to leave to the ladies' room. My glance follows her until she disappears behind a door. I bite my lip. Soon Rachel and Quinn find a new topic to discuss and when Shelby joins in, I decide to use my chance.

"Sorry, I'll be right back. Drank way too much water." I mumble and earn Quinn's funny look. I don't bother and make quick steps to get to the bathroom.

Once I'm in there I hear a toilet flush. Three seconds later Brittany appears from one of the stalls. She pauses for a second when she sees me standing in front of the sinks. She steps next to me and washes her hands without looking to the side. While I'm trying to find the right words, she grabs a paper towel and dries her fingers. Then she turns her body to face mine. She looks at me expectantly.

"Do you have a question or why are you ogling like that?" Oh boy…

"Uh no"

Brittany nods and wants to pass me by in order to get to the door but I reach out to stop her. I don't touch her, still her eyes drop to my hand that is just a few inches away from her stomach.

"I wanted to thank you for not telling Shelby about the accident. She would kill me, considering how much she likes you already. You're also her niece's best friend and-" The hard look in Brittany's eyes is really distracting. I feel like my head is swimming. "So yeah. Thanks."

Brittany studies my face. I don't know why I feel utterly uncomfortable when she's doing so.

"What makes you think I haven't told her, yet?" She asks. NowI'm puzzled. But then I know she must be bluffing because Shelby would have definitely ripped my head off by now if she knew I harmed her star.

"Shelby wouldn't have been able to eat her lunch due to a foaming mouth." I answer smugly. Something in Brittany's facials changes. It's almost like she wants to laugh but is quick enough to keep from doing so.

"Right" She comments and motions to the door behind me. I don't make space for her to get there, yet.

"Wait, I also wanted to say that I'm truly sorry. Honestly, I couldn't sleep all night. What did the doctor say? Is everything ok?" I know I said that I'm no longer interested in her wellbeing after she blew me off at the hospital, but let's be honest here – of course I am. Brittany shrugs and points to the small band aid on her forehead.

"I'll survive. Can I go back now?" She doesn't wait for an answer but brushes against me to finally leave the restroom. When she does so, her shoulder touches mine. A wave of a very feminine perfume or body lotion reaches my nose. It's a good one. She opens the door and leaves me alone in silence.

I follow after I wait for another minute. I should feel better now that I know she's doing fine and that she doesn't seem interested in telling Shelby about the accident. But I don't. I don't feel better.

/

It's hours later when I'm waiting impatiently for the last thirty minutes to go by so I can go home. The events of the past two days have been weird and giving me a headache. Within the same train of thought I realize that Gabe and I are going to have our monthly dinner with my parents tonight. I could cry instantly. Dinner with my parents is so exhausting. So far I haven't been successful in trying to turn the monthly event into an 'every-other-monthly-event'.

I open a drawer of my desk and look for some painkillers when Quinn comes back into the office. She had been gone for the past forty minutes – quite a long break. She approaches her table and speaks over her shoulder.

"So I had a little chat with Rachel" I keep my eyes on the content of my drawer until I find what I'm looking for, not really interested in what Quinn has to say. "I asked her about this Brittany girl because honestly she seems a bit strange to me."

I glance up because now she's caught my interest. Sort of.

"What do you mean?"

Quinn sits down and crosses her arms in front of her chest. She gives me a pointed look.

"Well Rachel said that she and a Noah guy are like Brittany's only friends and that she has her reasons for her coldness." I huff. Reasons to be mean? That's a nice excuse.

"What reasons?" I wonder aloud. Quinn shrugs.

"She didn't really say. She only said that Brittany has lost dear things in the past. Like does she mean a person or something? I don't know…" Quinn's phone goes off and I'm actually glad about it.

I wonder what Rachel meant by losing dear things. At the same time I don't want to know. Brittany has just become a bigger mystery to me when I don't even want to think about her this intensely! It's too nerve-wracking.

She'll be around for the next three months. I'll have to just go with it. She doesn't seem interested in making peace. I should just save the energy and focus on why I'm here. And that is work.

/

"Hello sweetheart, you look stunning as always. Where's Gabe?" My father kisses me on both cheeks when I reach the dinner table. For the second time that day I feel uneasy to eat in such an expensive restaurant. Those restaurants are not my thing. I just agreed because my dad would laugh at me if I suggested something like Breadstix for one of our dinners.

"Oh you know Gabe… he's never on time. He said something about a surgery he's never done before and that it might take hours. He'll get here as soon as possible. Hi mom." I lean across the table to hug my mother who sits next to my dad.

"I know exactly what you mean, Santana. Do you think your father was once early to pick me up for a date when we were younger? Never." She laughs and nudges my dad's shoulder when he pulls a face. He probably thinks that my mother is just joking while I'm not so sure.

Here's the deal about my parents: I have no idea why these two people got married in the first place. They share as much affection for each other as I and a spider do. Which is none at all. They probably got married because my mother was pregnant with my brother Ricky and this was quite a tragedy back then. But they don't love each other. They pretend as if they do and over the years I have come to terms to just accept their little game and hope that my relationship will never turn out to be like theirs.

So far we're good, I'd say. Gabe and I didn't get married because I was pregnant. We got to know each other when I was nineteen and he was Ricky's best friend. They studied medicine together and we soon started to get along quite well. I had a small crush on him but me being nineteen and him being thirty-three was just kind of not right back then. So we became friends.

We were good friends for three years. I often had barbecue with Gabe and my brother or we went to see a football game and there was even a trip to New York once. It was innocent, it was good.

Once I turned twenty-one and Gabe and I were bridesmaid and best man at Ricky's and Julia's wedding… we danced all night together and then he took me to the beach where he managed to make a fire after fifty minutes of rubbing wood together and me laughing my ass off. I don't know if it was my idea or his but we went for a swim with our clothes on. Gabe lost the keys to his car in the ocean. The walk back to my house took us two hours because our mobiles and money were locked in the car.

The last three miles he carried me on his back and when he dropped me off at my place he confessed his love.

It took us another month until we became a couple but I realized that the crush from three years ago came back to the surface and that I liked him more than a friend. Ten months later he asked me to marry him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't caught off guard when he presented me the sinfully expensive engagement ring. At first I thought he was joking because I wasn't even twenty-two and already supposed to say 'I do'?

Gabe said that I was the one and that he had never felt so sure about something. Looking back it does make sense. He was almost thirty-six and at that age you can be sure about things, about what you want in life. Everybody was thrilled that Gabe had proposed to me – we were the dream couple to many of them. I'm not even sure why but probably because we got along so well and the story "from friends to lovers" sort of makes everyone go "awww".

My parents were probably the ones who were the most thrilled about it. My dad is a doctor, too and therefore he's adored Gabe long before he and I became a couple. He was my brother's best friend, polite, with a marvelous career ahead and very sincere intentions about me. My parents loved him, my friends loved him.

Everything was screaming at me to say yes. And so after two days of thinking about it, I did. I said yes to Gabe and a life of stability. Yes to a marriage with the only person I had really been with and yes to only be with him for the rest of my life.

We've been married for a year and a half now and what can I say? I do feel safe. This is stability. He gives me anything I could wish for. Or anything I could ask for? He gave me this beautiful apartment with a rose garden to die for. All the furniture in our living room is the best you can find and I think I possess more jewelry than the Queen herself.

Truth is - I never wished for all those things… I would have been happy in a smaller apartment with one comfy couch instead of those two giant leather sofas. One necklace is all I need to feel pretty with my dress tonight. The things you wish for and all you can ask for are different things. They are so different... I only begin to realize this now.

We're halfway through the meals when Gabe finally arrives. He kisses my mother on the cheek and hugs my dad like an old friend.

He looks good in this black suit and shiny shoes. Honestly I wouldn't mind if we all showed up wearing jeans, sneakers and hoodies. Actually I'd like that.

My mom grins when Gabe sits down next to me and kisses me. His cologne is manly and strong – quite a bit too much.

"I'm sorry but there were complications. Everything turned out well though. You look beautiful, darling. Do you want some more wine?"

He pours me another glass when I nod and leans back in his chair with an exhausted sigh.

"So Gabriel… tell me about that surgery that you've never done before. I'm sure you want to know if I would have done it exactly the same way as you did." My father begins. Gabe starts babbling right away. At first I listen to them but when the word 'pancreas' falls for the seventh time, I drift off with my thoughts and just nod from time to time.

I wonder what dear things Brittany lost. Did she lose a job she loved? Did her house burn down with all her belongings? Or did she lose a beloved person, her brother or sister maybe?

I'll probably never find out because she clearly doesn't want to be something like friends. But then again that's too early to say, right? We only got to know each other yesterday and well… under not so lucky circumstances. It was a beginning of something I have no idea about.

There is something about her. Something that freaks me out and intrigues me at the same time.

---

Chapter 4 *Moves*

I love Fridays… Especially this one because it will mark the end of a week that I just want to forget about. On Monday I hit a stranger with my car but luckily she survives without any severe injuries. On Tuesday that very same person shows up at work and Shelby tells me that she will be the new addition to our team which is like the most ridiculous thing if you think about it.

On Wednesday I come home to find our kitchen under water because the dishwasher decided to break and spill soapy water everywhere. On Thursday I get informed that Brittany and I have been partnered up for a new interview job and on Friday we will have to drive to the meeting place together to talk to the actress Ann Dupré about her new movie. That's going to be interesting. Working together.

When I bumped into Brittany while standing in line at the cafeteria yesterday, it was hard to overlook that I am still very much in her bad books. The way she rolled her eyes when I said 'sorry' was priceless.

So if I think about it, I probably won't love this Friday as much as I thought I would. Because in like ten minutes I have to show up at Brittany's office and ask if she's ready for our trip to Long Beach where we are going to have a little sit together with the actress I have admired ever since I saw her in that huge blockbuster two years ago. I can't quite believe I'm going to talk to her, face to face in about an hour.

My phone buzzes and when I throw a glance at it, I smile at the caller ID.

"Hey babe. What's up?" I speak while scrolling down a page on my office computer. Gabe had to leave for an emergency early in the morning. He always calls me later on to apologize for not saying goodbye properly.

"I just wanted to say good morning… sorry I didn't get to make you coffee before I left. It was an emergency. Roger was already at the practice but they still needed me."

"That's ok. I know how to make coffee." I purr into the ear piece and hear Gabe's chuckle.

"I know you do. I still feel bad whenever I run off."

I narrow my eyes because I'm looking at a digital map on my computer. The address that Brittany emailed me and Shelby does not exist. I wanted to look up the place where we're meeting Ann Dupré but it looks like Brittany must have confused the name of the street or something. Guess she's not that perfect.

"Hon'?" Gabe's deep voice sounds in my ears. I snap back from my victorious thoughts.

"Sorry, what were you saying? You don't have to feel sorry about emergencies, we have agreed on that a long time ago, right?"

"Right"

"But guess what… Quinn told me about this new bar that opened up yesterday and she heard it's amazing. I was thinking we could go there tonight?" I hear Gabe exhaling a deep breath which means he won't make it.

"About tonight… that's also why I'm calling. Roger and I have planned a meeting with doctor Martinez this afternoon but now it looks like she can only get here by tonight. She will fly back to Mombasa in the morning so this is sort of our only chance."

I sigh disappointedly and support my head in my hand.

"Gabe this would be the third time in a row that you postpone our date night. Why do you always have to do this stuff on Fridays?"

"I know sweetheart but I can't really chose those things. Doctor Martinez is only here for two days every other month. We can't wait until next time. If we want that project to work out then we have to talk to her tonight."

Gabe and his partner Roger Cooper have worked on many different projects together in the past where they would travel pretty much everywhere around the globe and go on missions to treat sick people in poor villages. They do it all for free. I think what they do for all those families is great. I just wish it wouldn't be so often which is kind of selfish.

"I see… does that mean that you'll be leaving for a mission again soon?"

"Yeah that's what we were discussing during dinner with your parents, remember? Doctor Martinez is inviting us to Mombasa and then travel around the country for three weeks."

"Oh right… sorry I guess I wasn't there with my thoughts when you talked about it that evening. I remember now." I run my free hand through my hair because I don't really remember. Gabe was talking something about another mission but I thought it was one that he had already been on last year. I really should listen when my husband is talking about leaving the country for three weeks.

"Well, I have to hang up now because another patient is waiting. I'm sorry about tonight, babe. I'll make it up somehow. Tomorrow we can talk about my trip to Kenya, alright? I'm sorry."

"Alright, we'll do that. Maybe I'll ask Quinn if she's up for a drink. You don't have to stay up until I get home. Tell Roger I said hi."

"Of course. I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

"Love you, too. Bye bye."

"Bye"

I hang up and throw the phone into my bag. Great… the day hasn't even really started yet and I'm already in a bad mood. It's always the same. We make plans to go out on Friday night and then there's another patient who pinched a finger or with a bloody nose or the famous doctor Martinez is back in town for two days. Oh well… I knew we wouldn't have a normal private life like other couples do when I married him. I knew that he would have to cancel dates, dinners and gathering all the time. I always said that emergencies are something you cannot prevent as a doctor and so I never complained. But still…

"Trouble in paradise?" I look up across the room and see Quinn eying me over her computer. Sometimes I forget that she is with me in the same room.

I shrug and roll my eyes; this should be answer enough. "Oh and yes…" Quinn continues. "I'm up for it."

I throw a questioning look in her direction because I don't know what she's talking about.

"You said you might ask me to go for a drink now that your husband cancelled date night. I'm taking it upon myself and say we go to that bar I told you about. Maybe Kurt and Mike can come, too. It's gonna be fun." Quinn says easily and grabs her phone, probably to inform the boys. If I think about it - why not? I could use a fun night out even if it means without Gabe. Maybe that's exactly what I need right now.

/

"Are you ready to go?" With only my head inside Brittany's office I ask the blonde after I knocked on the door and waited for her to say "come in!". She's sitting at a tidy desk and leaning back in her chair, holding the phone to her ear.

She motions for me to wait a second so I step back into the hallway but leave the door open. I can hear how she continues talking on the phone. Apparently she's discussing something with a certain John in a very flirtatious voice.

"Well, tell them I said hi and that I can't wait to go see their concert next month. I'm a big fan. Oh and John… if you could arrange a little meet-and-greet that our readers might get to win, then that would be simply brilliant… u-huh? No, you didn't! This is fabulous news, I love you. Ok I have to go now, my assistant is waiting. Yeah, I'm meeting Ann today… I know right? She's such a sweetheart. Ok, talk to you soon and thanks again!"

Did she just call me her assistant? I can hear her footsteps and three seconds later she appears at the door. She's bit taller so I have to look up into her eyes once we're standing quite close in front of each other.

"What?" She asks simply when she sees my eyebrows knitted together.

"Did you just refer to me as your assistant?" Brittany shrugs when she realizes I'm upset.

"Well you sort of are, aren't you? Shelby wants you to see how I do my job and you get to hold the microphone. So…"

I huff because her smug way makes me want to throw some nasty words at her. Or punch her actually. Who does she think she is? Hold the microphone? Just because I'm an intern doesn't mean she's wiser. She looks like she's about the same age so.

When I'm desperately looking for words to counter, I get distracted by her crystal blue eyes that bore into mine. They seem endlessly deep and before I know it, Brittany is walking away, leaving me there with my mouth hanging open.

"If you want to meet Ann Dupré then you better control that jaw of yours and start moving." She speaks over her shoulder. I only get to roll my eyes and follow her with quick steps.

/

We step out of the building and make our way to the parking lots without saying another word. The sun is burning down on us which makes me wish I had put on a dress instead of those black skintight jeans and a blouse.

My car is just a few feet away but Brittany keeps walking into another direction.

"We're driving together, right? I don't know where we're meeting Ms. Dupré." I ask the blonde because getting there with two cars would be kind of silly. Even though I would prefer it. She stops and turns to face me.

"Yeah?" Is everything she says and waits for me to continue.

"Well… we can take my car, it's right there." Brittany's eyes follow my finger when I point to my car. She lets out a malicious laugh and shakes her head.

"I thought it was clear that I would drive." She speaks in an obvious way.

"Uhm… why?" I ask dumbfounded.

"Uhm because I'm not getting near your car or your driving skills again? Remember how I had to go to the hospital last time I did?"

Oh my God! This cannot be happening! How am I going to survive this morning, side by side with the woman who obviously hates my guts? Honestly I'm starting to lose my patience with her.

"Okay, you know what? I'm kind of tired of you bitching at me because of what happened on Monday. I know I did a bad thing but I have said sorry several times by now and you still don't accept my apology. What do you want me to do? If we keep going like this then I really don't see it. Me and you working together in the future. So if you're not ready to forgive me then I'll better go talk to Shelby and tell her the truth. She'll fire me but hey that's ok. At least I wouldn't have to feel like a monster every time you look at me!"

My pulse is running fast. I feel my cheeks getting hot but I sustain her glance. During my little monologue Brittany has been standing there, shielding her face from the burning sun with her hand and just listened to what I had to say.

Maybe I'm making it up in my head but Brittany's expression just turned a tiny bit softer. A teeny tiny bit. She throws another short glance to my car before looking back into my eyes and shrugging again.

"I guess what I want you to do is get into my car so I can drive us to the place we're meeting Ann. We'll be faster if I drive because I know where it is."

We're staring at each other for a couple seconds. I raise my hands in defense.

"Fine. Whatever. You drive. Where's your car?" Brittany points to the direction she was heading to and when she starts walking, I follow her wordlessly.

/

We didn't really speak during those forty minutes of driving. I kept staring out of the window and listened to the songs on the mixed CD that was playing. The fact that it played several of my all-time favorite songs was something I skillfully ignored.

We are now standing in front of a building I have never seen before. Looks like an apartment complex and Brittany is studying the names beneath the doorbells.

"So why did you write down a false address in your email?" I ask once Brittany has pushed a button and turns towards me. She studies me for a couple seconds before answering.

"Because that was just formality to please Shelby. I don't go spill my sources all over the place?"

"But… I'm here now. I know the address."

"True. And that's why you're gonna keep it to yourself or you will lose your job and this will be the first andlast time you and I work together."

Oooh – was that a threat?

"Well guess what, I wouldn't be so sad about that." I mumble. Brittany rolls her eyes. Before anyone of us can say something else, we hear a voice through the intercom system.

"How old are you?"Sounds a male voice from somewhere inside the building. I give Brittany a puzzled look. Why does he want to know how old we are?

"I'm a hundred-and-twenty-seven years old and I was born on the day my mother gave birth."

Whaaaat? Brittany clicks her tongue when I stare at her like she's some weirdo.

"The password" Is everything she says to explain. Duh…

The door buzzes. Brittany holds it up for me. I step inside and she follows closely behind me.

/

Okay so if I thought Ann Dupré was interesting before, then I have fallen in love with her now. Seriously could she be any more charming? She's babbling like a parrot after every question Brittany asks and she talks with such passion about her movie and the role she plays. She laughs wholeheartedly when Brittany makes a joke or runs her hands through her endless long locks when she has to think about an answer first.

For the past thirty minutes we have been sitting in a very fancy living room on the top floor of this building. I don't know if this is Ann Dupré's private apartment or maybe just one of several? But it looks like she lives here alone. Except for the bodyguard who was standing outside the door and the guy in the kitchen who has been serving us water, soda, fruit cocktails, snacks, tea and plenty more.

I'm scribbling down notes on the notepad I'm holding in my arms because there's no possible way to deny it; Brittany knows what she' doing. She's asking questions I didn't even know you could ask. They make Ann Dupré talk like this is the best interview she's ever given. The questions are very professional, informative and precise. We get to know a little about Ann's private life but she doesn't have to give away too much. There's never an uncomfortable silence.

She answers every single question Brittany asks. She keeps laughing and blushing all the time because not only is it Ann being charming but also Brittany is talking quite flirtatiously. This makes me wonder for a minute but then I get distracted by the amount of information the actress gives us about her new role.

All I know after fifty minutes of talking to one of the most popular actresses in the states these days: Shelby did not exaggerate when she said that Brittany is one of the best. Because she is. Needless to say.

"This was a real good interview" I compliment Brittany once we're walking back to her car. "I mean it. I've never seen a celebrity so open and comfortable around a journalist."

Brittany opens the door to the driver seat and watches me when I get to the other side of the car.

"Yeah you just have to make them feel respected. That's what I truly do. I'm interested in their work. Not what they do behind closed doors or who they sleep with."

When Brittany starts the engine she continues.

"The key to a successful interview is being polite, funny and professional. But mostly; keep out of their dating life. Only when you know that they are married or in a serious relationship you can ask how their partners are doing but I think that's already bit too much, especially when they are not in show business. It's something you want to keep safe. I respect that…"

She pulls out of the parking lots. I think about what she says. It's true. If there is one thing you want to keep safe, then it's the people you love and the safety you have worked for.

"That makes sense… I imagine it to be so stressful when you're a celebrity. Everyone is always up in your business. There's really nothing you can do about it because you don't want to be mean to the people who admire you so much. I think I would get so mad if people kept asking me about my husband all the time and if we're still happy or if it smells like divorce or something."

I chuckle when I imagine myself as a celebrity. From the corner of my eye I see that Brittany throws a glance at me that I can't read. Suddenly I wonder.

"What about you? Are you married, too?" I ask and unwittingly look at her hands on the steering wheel to see if there's a wedding ring. There's a nice silver ring on her thumb that I haven't noticed so far. Brittany throws another look at me before pulling into a different street and raises her eyebrows. "What?" I ask wondering.

"What did I just tell you about a successful interview?" She says simply with a calm voice. I think about it and then chuckle at what she's implying.

"But… you're not a celebrity, right?"

"Right. Same rules though." She states matter-of-factly. "But if you must know – no, I'm not married." And that's all. For the rest of the drive we only comment on some answers that Ann Dupré gave us.

It's nice… we're actually talking about something that does not involve the words "hospital" or "accident". We're still guarded with what we're saying but I guess that's a good thing. One step at a time.

/

A couple hours later…

Quinn and I squeeze through the dancing crowd to finally get somewhere near the counter. Apparently this new 'bar' is not exactly a bar but a new hit club where you can dance on a giant dance floor, have a drink at a fancy bar, eat something in the back and have a decent talk or just sit on comfortable couches to watch the dancing people from a distance.

"You really had no idea that this is a club?" I yell into Quinn's ear when we reach the counter and wait for somebody to take our orders. The music's loud. Although it's not what I expected, I like it. I haven't been to a club like this since… I got married?

Quinn turns around with a grin on her face.

"Well… let's just say I've never seen it from the inside and therefore couldn't know for sure. But I knew if I told you that this is a dance club then you and Gabe would have never come." I act offended when I know she's right. This isn't Gabe's scene… it's not completely mine, either but all I want is to have some fun from time to time. Why did I never think of going to clubs with Quinn alone instead of trying to get Gabe somewhere he doesn't like?

Once we receive our drinks, we make our ways to one of the couches. I relax into the soft material and take a big sip of cocktail.

"This is so good." I mumble into my glass. Quinn winks at me from the side.

"Oh look, there's Rachel and Kurt!" She exclaims. It almost makes me spill my drink. She raises a hand and waves into the direction she's obviously spotted the two friends.

I try not to look too disappointed when my eyes land on Rachel. Whenever I see her I get reminded of Shelby and I don't want to think of Shelby when I'm supposed to have a fun night out.

"Hey guys! So great to run into you! Kurt just told me that you'd show up, too and so we thought we'd come look for you. Mike and Brittany are somewhere on the dance floor. They're both so good at dancing! Like is there a thing in the world that Brittany's notgood at?"

Quinn and I stare at Rachel in amazement as we probably both didn't think of Brittany as a dancer. Also I guess I'm staring because I didn't expect the blonde to be here tonight.

"Oh yeah? Well she does have the body!" Quinn yells and then pats the space next to her for Kurt and Rachel to sit down. Kurt Hummel has been working for the Sylvester magazine for maybe three months. He belongs there like a lid to a bottle.

We've had some fun talks whenever Quinn and I went for a drink with him and Mike Chang after work. I let my glance wander through the dancing crowd, but Mike and Brittany are nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Santana! It's so cool you could make! But why are you all by yourself? Where is your husband?" Rachel leans over Quinn in order to be able to speak to me as it's so loud in here.

"He's not here tonight! He had to work. I'm not by myself, I'm here with Quinn." I inform Rachel.

"Girls night out it is then! Wooooh!" Rachel screams and lets her glass clink against mine. "And Kurt of course!" She adds when Kurt nudges her shoulder offendedly.

For a while the four of us talk about the awesomeness of this new club and I find myself feeling pretty comfortable like this. When Kurt brings us a tray with a round of shots, Quinn applauds excitedly and hands me a glass.

"I just spotted Mike and Brittany dancing!" Kurt yells and points to the middle of the dance floor. "They've known each other for five days but they dance like they have practiced for years together – it's hot! Look at them, they're entertaining the whole club!"

My eyes follow Kurt's finger. When the crowd parts a bit, I see what he's talking about. There in the middle of all the people are Brittany and Mike Chang dancing to a fast house beat. I knew that Mike was a dancer but I have never seen him actually do it. It looks crazy professional. I can't help but stare at him and Brittany.

She's wearing a short tight dress and heels and her wavy hair falls over her shoulders. Her arms are around Mike's neck as he's guiding her moves with his hands on her hips. It's difficult to tear my eyes away because they look stunning. Brittany dances like she's part of a Jennifer Lopez video or something. It looks so easy. As if she's been doing this all her life.

"Santana!" I snap back when Quinn yells my name. She grabs my hand to pull me up to my feet. "It's your turn! Come on!" Before I can object I find myself sandwiched between Quinn, Kurt and Rachel on the dance floor. I have no idea what I'm doing. All I know is that Melanie C's 'I Turn To You' is blasting out. I want to scream because I haven't heard that song in years and I can't believe they're playing it tonight. It was my favorite song in high school.

It's quite possible that I am making a fool of myself because I haven't danced like this in front of other people since my second year at college where my best friend Mercedes and I would go to parties every weekend. My body feels rusty when I try to pull up some old dance moves and for a second I think about leaving the dance floor but when Quinn and Rachel grab my hips shamelessly and their dance moves do not look too professional, either I start to loosen up a bit. When the song goes into chorus for the first time, I drop my initial shame and actually start to enjoy it.

"Look at you!" Kurt squeals from opposite me and high-fives me after an elegant twirl. "You should show that side of Santana way more often! She's hot!" He laughs and keeps doing what he's doing. Soon he starts dancing with a cute guy who has been eyeing him ever since we got on the dance floor.

"Are you still sad that your husband cancelled date night?" Quinn screams into my ear.

"Actually it's a nice change if I'm being honest!" I yell back. Quinn says something in return but I don't hear her. My eyes have caught something else. It draws my attention across the dance floor where Brittany and Mike had been dancing until a minute ago.

Now she's there all by herself, lifting her arms up in the air with her eyes closed and her body moving sensually to the music. I have no idea where Mike went but she doesn't seem to give a damn. She's dancing for herself and even though this is the first time I see her dance like this, I know she's completely in her element. There's nothing left of the bitchy blonde who seems so angry and upset at the rest of the world.

Just when I become aware that I think Brittany looks incredibly beautiful, I snap back only to realize that I've been staring at another woman for the past two minutes. The reason why I manage to look away is because Brittany has opened her eyes and her glance reaches me through all those dancing bodies. It forces me to look away. Those piercing blue eyes are too much for me to handle. What's happening…

I have to grab Quinn's arm due to slight dizziness. Maybe I shouldn't have taken that shot before.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asks worriedly when I'm still clutching her arm.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah... I'm good." I mutter and force a smile. My heart races. Quinn eyes me suspiciously but when I repeat that I'm fine, she accepts it and continues her moves.

I do so, too. For the rest of the night, I somehow manage to not throw constant glances into Brittany's direction to make sure if she's still looking at me or not. Because the burning on my skin tells me she is.

---

Chapter 5 *Secrets*

Early on Wednesday morning… Brittany…

She wakes up disorientated because once again she fell asleep on the couch instead of her bed. As a result her neck aches badly.

She groans when she gets up on her feet and realizes why she woke up; the phone is ringing at seven thirty. She scuffs across the cold floor which makes her shudder since she's barefoot. She makes her way into the kitchen because she can't find the phone in the living room.

"Where are you… stupid phone" She mutters and then finds it hidden under a pile of newspapers. When she checks the caller ID she freezes. She feels nauseous within seconds. She recognizes the number right away but it still shocks her. It's been months that this number called her. The last call actually ended with Brittany spitting some mean words and hanging up.

Why would Veronica call her out of the blue? Hadn't Brittany made it clear that she didn't want to stay in touch with any of them? It simply hurt too much to be around Diane's family. That's why she begged them to leave her alone even though it made her heart tear apart. They accepted it and never tried to contact her again. Except for Diane's little sister, Linda. She had texted Brittany last Christmas to wish her a happy day and that she missed her a lot. It ruined Brittany's day… because she missed the young girl, too and had the worst conscience by leaving her behind.

She didn't text back.

Brittany is still staring at the phone in her hand. She slowly guides it to her ear. When Brittany wants to press the green button, it stops ringing and the answering machine takes over. Brittany holds her breath when she hears that voice for the first time in months.

"Hello Brittany, it's me Veronica.I'm sorry to call you out of the blue. I know you still don't want it… but Brittany I was hoping you could maybe… this feels so weird because I haven't heard a word of you ever since. I don't even know what you do these days. Anyway I was hoping you could maybe call Linda sometime next week? Or write her a text message or anything… you probably don't remember but her birthday is on the twelfth and I know she's wishing so much to hear from you. I know it's asked a lot but it would make her so happy. It would mean a lot to me, too. I hope you're doing fine and that you are happy. Goodbye."

Beep!

Brittany has sunk to a chair at her tiny kitchen table because her legs have turned to jelly. Veronica… Diane's mom had become some sort of a mother to her, too.

She hasn't forgotten about Linda's birthday. She tried not to think of it but that is impossible. She didn't call her last year so why should she call her this time? It would only be a hundred times weirder to hear each other after all this time. They wouldn't know what to talk about. But then again, she can't stop wondering how Linda is doing at school. Has she made new friends? Gotten better grades?

Maybe she could do it… just call her and wish her a happy birthday? They could talk for a couple minutes and then that would be it. It can't be that hard now that she thinks about it.

Maybe… that's all she can promise herself right now.

/

She's already late for work. Actually she and her boss agreed that she could work at home if she wanted and therefore she doesn't have to be at the office at a certain time but Brittany still prefers to appear at a decent hour. She also like to be around people for a while. As long as she doesn't have to talk to all of them of course.

When she arrives at the building of the Sylvester magazine, she makes quick steps to cross the entrance hall and walks the stairs up to the second floor where her office is.

She makes a quick stop at a vending machine to get a cup of coffee. A bloody headache is starting to crawl over the back of her head. She forgot to bring some painkillers.

Once she's walking in the hallway to her office, she can't get rid of Veronica's voice in her head. Brittany has often wondered how they all are doing. Technically she longs to see them. On the other hand she really just wants to leave everything behind. Which has been heavily selfish but sometimes that's what you gotta do in order to get back on track. And that's exactly what Brittany did.

"Oh hey Brittany!" Just when Brittany wants to open the door to her office, somebody calls her name. She turns around and sees another blonde approaching her with quick steps. It's Quinn and she looks upset.

"Hi. What's up?" She greets the woman once they are standing in front of each other.

"Brittany there's a problem with the interview with Ann Dupré." Quinn talks fast. Brittany knits her eyebrows together. First of all because she doesn't know what could have gone wrong with the interview and second, her head feels like it's about to explode.

"What do you mean? Everything went well – Ann loved it."

"No, that's not it. I just got an email from Sue Sylvester herself and she sounded mad as hell. You know how I'm responsible for the graphic design and so whenever I'm about to work on a new job, I have to wait for Sue's 'ok' first. Yesterday I wanted to do your interview with Ms. Dupré because it has to be ready to get printed by tomorrow but I still hadn't heard a word from Sue so I contacted her. Five minutes later I get spammed with her hate mail, saying that she never got the interview."

Quinn's desperate look confuses Brittany because she still doesn't know exactly what the problem is.

"What do you mean she never got it? When we came from the interview, the first thing I did was type it down and email it to…" Brittany trails off, trying to recap what happened after the interview. She parked the car in the parking lots and she and Santana walked back inside. They said goodbye and Brittany remembers pretty clearly that she watched the Brunette walk away. She thought that she was wearing super tight jeans… Then she got to her room, turned on the computer, synchronized the content on the microphone's memory card with the hard drive… then she typed the whole interview which took her forever. After that she attached the whole thing to an e-mail to send it to Sue Sylvester because that's what she had to do. She did send it. Right?

"Deadline was Monday" Quinn adds insecurely as if she's scared that Brittany will rip her head off. Brittany looks back and forth between Quinn's left and right eye, still trying to find the mental picture where she pressed 'send' and delivered the damn interview.

"I know it was due Monday. That's why I already finished it on Friday so I wouldn't have to work on it on the weekend. I know exactly that I finished it and then sent it to Sue… I always do everything right away so it won't bother me."

"Ok, I believe you but then something must have gone wrong with the mail traffic since Sue never got it." Quinn raises her hands incredulously. She still seems freaked out. Whatever Sue Sylvester said to Quinn in that e-mail; it must have been spiteful.

When Brittany came here for the job interview to sit in front of Sue Sylvester, answering all the questions she wanted to know, she thought the woman was creepy. Actually, she seemed very impressed with Brittany's résumé and Brittany was sure that she would get the job but the woman with the short blonde hair was creepy.

"Look, I'm sorry that you got pulled into this, I really don't know how this could happen. I'll tell Sue that it's my fault and that I'll send it again right away." Brittany tries to calm the other blonde.

"Yeah… if she still wants it." Quinn replies sadly. "The first job of a new co-worker is usually very pivotal to what Sue thinks about you for the rest of the time you work here. Ifyou get to stay, that is." She mumbles. It causes Brittany's jaw to drop.

"What do you mean ifI get to stay? Are you saying she's going to fire me after just one week that I've been here?"

"I don't know, ok? I'm just saying it could happen because Sue is really cruel when it comes to things like this. But don't worry too much, I'm sure Shelby will talk to her if it comes down to firing you."

Brittany is still staring at Quinn in disbelief. This can't be happening. What's the big freakin' deal? So she missed a deadline but there's still enough time!

"Right… I guess I'll better take care of this now. Thanks, Quinn." Brittany says and gets a compassionate smile in return. She turns around and enters her office, leaving Quinn standing in the hallway.

/

As soon as her computer is ready, she opens her email account and goes through the ones in the folder 'sent'. She mumbles all the names she has contacted in the past week until she reaches last Friday afternoon.

Shoot…

There is no email for one Sue Sylvester. It's not there. She clicks to check if there are any unsent drafts and well… there it is.

To: sylvester.s/s-magazine

From: pierce.b/s-magazine

Dear Ms. Sylvester

Here is the interview with Ann Dupré that took place this afternoon. Everything went well. Ms. Dupré would be delighted to work with us in the future again.

Kind regards,

Brittany Pierce

The attachment proves that Brittany did it all right. Except that she didn't send it. She must have clicked the wrong button because now she remembers that the phone rang and so she hurried.

A silly lapse that will probably cost her this job. Quinn did not seem as if she was joking before. Damned…

She lets her fingers run through her hair, then buries her face in her hands. This is just great. Rachel's gonna kill her… she's actually gonna kill her once she finds out about this.

The computer makes a beeping noise, letting Brittany know that another email just came in. She sighs and narrows her eyes when she reads who it's from.

To: pierce.b/s-magazine; lopez.s/s-magazine; fabray.q/s-magazine

From: corcoran.s/s-magazine

Girls,

Move your behinds to my office right now. Sue will be here any minute and she's foaming.

Shelby

Brittany swallows emptily because this does indeed not sound too well. She takes another sip of her coffee, grabs her mobile and leaves her office.

She walks around a corner when she spots Santana closing a door behind her back and about to storm into the same direction as Brittany. When she throws a glance over her shoulder, she sees Brittany coming her way. She waits up.

They haven't really talked since the ride back from the interview. They saw each other Friday night at that new club that Rachel so badly wanted to go. Actually Brittany had not been in the mood for a crowded place but her friend would not stop asking and so she said yes. Truth be told, it turned out to be a fun night. Brittany danced as carefree as she hadn't done in what felt like forever. It was good. This Mike was a nice guy and boy could he dance. The fun part really began when Brittany spotted Rachel doing her party moves around Santana. She looked hilarious.

The Brunette on the other hand… Brittany could not tear her eyes away which made her feel traitorous towards herself. She still doesn't like her.

"Do you know what's happening? Why does Shelby want to see us? Why did Quinn storm out of my office in order to find you?" Santana greets her. She seems upset. They are now walking next to each other. Brittany shrugs. She feels kind of bad because does this mean that Santana will get into trouble, too? Oh well… it's not like she would care really. She doesn't.

"There was uhm…" They stop in front of Shelby's office. Santana narrows her eyes when Brittany tries to form a sentence. "I guess I screwed up."

"You screwed up?" Santana asks monotonously and raises her eyebrows.

"There's a slight possibility that I forgot to actually send the inter-" She gets interrupted because the door opens and startles both of them. Shelby is obviously boiling with anger when she glares at them.

"Get in!" She hisses furiously and slams the door as soon as Brittany has followed Santana inside.

Quinn is already standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Brittany feels the urge to speak first because she really doesn't need a lecture about how badly she screwed up. Everyone just needs to relax.

"Shelby, I can explain to Sue what happened. This was really-"

"I don't think she'll want any explanations." Shelby states. She doesn't sound upset. She sounds like she already knows the outcome of this. It's unsettling. "I'm pretty sure she ordered you here to 'let you go' if you know what I mean. That's why I asked all three of you to show up real quick because I want to know what happened. Where's the goddamn interview?"

From the corner of her eyes, Brittany can see that Santana looks confused and opens her mouth.

"What do you mean Shelby?" The brunette asks unknowingly. Brittany is about to speak up when there is a knock on the door.

"Great" Shelby huffs and steps close to Brittany. "I really like you Brittany. That's why I suggest you better think of a good reason why that interview never arrived in Sue's mailbox. Right now." Then she walks to the door and opens it. Brittany rolls her eyes because – ugh! This is so not what she needs right now. Her head is still hammering and all she knows is that she's in trouble. She can't come up with a good reason because there isn't one.

"Ladies…" Brittany turns to face her boss. She prepares to get fired within the next two minutes. Great… awesome…

Sue Sylvester closes the door behind herself and steps towards to them. She's wearing black pants and a blazer. Her hair is dyed blonder than ever but her eyes are grey and bore into Brittany's. This woman is a force.

"I'm sure you know by now that I am not happy." She states calmly and looks back and forth between Brittany, Santana and Quinn.

"Uhm… I'm sorry but what is the problem?" Santana interferes carefully. Can somebody finally tell the woman so she'll stop looking like a confused puppy? She stops when Sue raises a hand to silence her.

"The problem, Ms. Lopez, is that I hired a new co-worker because I hear she's the best. I give her a chance and she actually manages to get Ann Dupré to sit down with us. Brava. On Monday morning I wait eagerly to read that glorious piece of work but I never get to do so because it hasn't reached my desk until this hour. If Ms. Fabray hadn't taken it upon herself to ask where it is, then I don't think it would have ever made its way into the next issue of the Sylvester magazine and that… could have had some serious consequences."

Like what? Brittany thinks to herself because nobody even knows it took place, yet. It's not like they already informed the whole world about this one interview and disappointed fans are gonna kill themselves if it doesn't show up in the September issue.

"Ms. Sylvester" Brittany begins because she wants at least a chance to explain herself. "I understand you are upset. I can assure this wasn't intention. It won't happen again."

"I got disappointed." Sue states nonchalantly. "However promising somebody seems at first – reliability is what counts if you want to keep your job at the Sylvester magazine. That's why I see myself forced to let you go, Ms. Pierce. Everybody gets one chance here. That's how it works."

Brittany presses her teeth together because this is ridiculous. She just lost a job because she's incapable to send a stupid email. How stupid does one have to be to achieve something like this?

She watches how Sue exchanges a glance with Shelby who seems upset but not surprised about the harsh decision.

"Shelby, I want you to call the other candidate who applied for the job. She starts tomorrow if she's still interested." She walks back to the door and reaches for the doorknob when Santana makes a step forward.

"Ms. Sylvester! I'm sorry can you please hang on a second?" Everybody turns to look at Santana as if she just arose out of nowhere. "I uhm… I-I" She stutters. Her cheeks turn red. What the hell comes now? Brittany silently begs the brunette to just shut up and not make it worse.

Sue crosses her arms in front of her chest and targets Santana with her deadly glare. She also seems amused about the courageous attempt to play with a hungry lion.

"Yes, Ms. Lopez? Is there anything you have to say in defense of Ms. Pierce maybe?"

Brittany watches how Santana wets her lips and nods.

"Actually yes. The thing is – I mean really it's my fault." Oh God. Please no…

Sue tilts her head to the side. She waits expectantly for Santana to continue. Quinn and Shelby stare at Santana like she just volunteered to hang herself. Which she sort of did.

"Santana, please-" Brittany begins because whatever the Brunette is about to do, she doesn't want anybody else to get punished for her mistake.

"This is actually a silly misunderstanding" Santana continues and ignores Brittany's attempt to make her stop. "You see I was there with Brittany to observe how she does her job and I have to say; I really learned a lot after just one hour." She tells calmly while the reddish shade on her cheeks slowly disappears. Sue knits her eyebrows together and seems to process that piece of information.

"When we came back I asked Brittany to send me the edited version of the interview so I could have a look at it, too. I wanted read it again and write down some notes for myself because it was one of the best interviews I've ever experienced. I said that I would forward it to you because Brittany had already done the whole work and… and then I forgot." Santana exhales a shaky breath.

Brittany can't believe this is happening. Did she really just say this was all her fault? Why? Goddamned why? Now Santana is going to lose her job!

"Santana I-"

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Sylvester. I wasn't being myself that afternoon. My husband had just been deployed to Iraq to treat sick people. I don't know when he'll come back. My thoughts were out there instead of here where my work is. I completely forgot to send the interview."

Brittany's eyes feel like they're about to pop out of her head. Quinn and Shelby are standing there with their mouths hanging open. Slowly Brittany dares to throw a glance into Sue's face. What she sees kind of shocks her.

Sue's facials have softened. There is something bitter in her eyes. She swallows before she parts her lips to say something.

"That's uhm… my brother is out there, too." She states with a completely different voice. She looks back and forth between the four women and nods slowly. "If that's what happened then I guess you can stay." She says towards Brittany before facing Santana again. "Lopez, this better be the first and last time something like this happens."

Then she turns around without another word and leaves the room.

"Holy shit" Quinn whispers once the door closes. The four women take turns at throwing confused glances at each other.

"I guess that's what you could call it." Shelby agrees. She eyes Santana. "Why did you do that, Santana? You could have lost your job."

Brittany hasn't said a word. She doesn't know what to say. This is too much. Why would she do that?

"I uhm…" Santana mumbles and throws a stolen glance at Brittany. "I was trying to make something right."

Brittany knows she's referring to the accident but what is she supposed to say now? This is a situation where she has absolutely no idea what she's supposed to do. So she does what she knows best.

"I … have to-" She tries to explain but she can't. She storms out of the office without looking at Santana once more.

/

She's standing in front of a sink in the ladies' room and lets cold water run over her wrists. It's something she always used to do when she was a kid and about to cry because something unfair happened. She has always been someone who doesn't cry often. Whenever a lump forms in her throat she lets cold water run over her wrists which allows her to breath better.

Why didn't she just stay in bed this morning? Or well… on the couch.

She shouldn't have listened to Veronica's message on the answering machine. She should have disconnected the phone or run into the bathroom and listen to it later. Why did Veronica have to contact her out of nowhere? That's not fair!

And why did Santana have to make up a lie for her? It was her own fault. Brittany should pay for it – why would Santana care so much?

Santana should be happy about Brittany getting fired. It's not like she's been making it easy for the brunette to be around her. All she's been saying towards her are either snarky comments or nothing at all. If somebody would treat Brittany this way, then she'd probably throw a party and celebrate that they got fired. So ok, Santana hit her with a car but she obviously didn't do it on purpose. Santana isn't in her debts or anything…

Nobody has ever done something like this for her. She really wouldn't deserve it, considering the way she treats people. Especially the ones who care for her.

The door opens and someone steps inside the restroom. With a glance into the mirror Brittany notices Santana stepping behind her with an utterly confused look on her face.

"Why did you walk away?" She asks softly and shrugs her shoulders like she can't believe Brittany just blew her off.

Brittany turns off the water. She slowly moves to face the other woman. She dries her hands by pressing them against her jeans and looks up into Santana's face. She avoids her eyes. The reason? A hot teardrop is running down her left cheek. The embarrassment stings like a knife in her chest. She quickly wipes the tear off but it's too late. Santana has already seen it.

"Why are you crying?" She asks astonished and makes a step forward. She stops when Brittany moves back hardly noticeable. "Brittany I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. Aren't you happy that you can stay?"

Brittany wants to open her mouth and say 'Yes and thank you' but it's like she's paralyzed. What's going on? Her lips move but nothing comes out – nothing! Jesus! How does one talk?!

"Uhm…" Seriously? That's all?

"What is it?" Santana asks and again steps closer. This time Brittany doesn't shrug back. Santana stands next to her so they are both leaning against the sink, looking down.

Brittany's hand twitches when Santana's brushes against it. She rolls her eyes at herself.

"I didn't mean to put you into an awkward position. I just realize now that it was kinda stupid, I could have asked you first. But… I thought Sue was being unfair and well – I still can't forget about the accident and I thought… well…"

Brittany nods slowly because it does make sense. She senses how the brunette next to her shifts. Brittany freezes when there is a hand on her back.

"Why are you so serious all the time?" Santana wants to know. Brittany is having trouble breathing immediately. "You seem so endlessly mad."

This is quickly becoming too much for Brittany. Way too much. It's one thing to help someone and another to get into their personal business. Before she knows it, she steps away like she just got stung by a bee.

Santana looks at her startled. That's when Brittany loses it.

"You don't even know me! It was nice of you to cover for me but I wouldn't have wanted you to do so! Just back the fuck up, okay?" She knows her words are too harsh. She knows she's being unfair but her head feels like it is about to explode. She doesn't know how to handle those things! She doesn't want people to be nice when she will never know how to return it.

For a couple seconds they just stare at each other. Brittany's throat feels so dry.

"Okay" Comes from Santana's lips. She sounds defeated. Brittany nods.

She turns around and walks off. Only when she wants to open the door and needs her hands, she realizes that she has been making painful fists causing her fingernails to dig into her flesh. With an upset gasp she's out the door.

/

The same day at Santana's apartment… Santana's POV…

Only when my fingers start to hurt, I realize that I've been rubbing the very same spot on the window over and over again. It's cleaner than clean. There is soap all over the patio door and it drips down onto the expensive laminate.

Gabe says we could hire a cleaning lady but why do I need a cleaning lady? It's not like we don't know how to use a sponge and soap! Why would I let a stranger come into our house and let them fumble around on all my belongings? Cleaning can be fun. Or therapeutic like right now. It totally calms my nerves!

Why would Gabe want to hire a cleaning lady? It's always me who does this stuff anyways. I scrub our toilet twice a week and vacuum the whole place. I clean the windows every other month because I've got time. I make time to do so. It's not like he would have to do these things if we didn't have a cleaning lady. Because we don't and he doesn't!

He left for his trip to Mombasa yesterday evening and I'm already thinking way too much! That's what happens every time Gabe leaves the country. I think too much.

I think about what is good in our marriage and what is not so good. It happens automatically. It's like my mind has its own mind because I don't even want to think so intensely about this stuff. We're good. I'm happy with Gabe. We've only been married for a year and a half – this is the time where you're still all over each other all the time.

Gabe is just not at home often enough but if he was then we would be all over each other. Like… of course we would. Maybe we're not as explosive like other newlyweds when it comes to – stuff.

With my thoughts all over the place I dip the sponge into the bucket in front of me to continue with the next window. I startle when there is a knock on the door and almost step into the bucket. I throw a glance at the big clock in the kitchen. Who wants something from me at 8pm on a Wednesday evening?

Maybe it's our neighbor Ted and he wants to see if Gabe is up for an after-work beer. Or it's my brother Ricky because sometimes he shows up at the weirdest hours just to say hello and drop off some Lasagna that his wife made.

I let the sponge fall back into the bucket and wipe my soapy hands off at my sweatpants. I scuff across the living room. When I reach the door I check through the peephole. My forehead bumps against the door when I jump at what I see. My eyes widen because this must be an optical illusion. I jerk back and shake my head before checking again. I'm not imagining things. It's Brittany standing outside my door. How does she know where I live and why?

I pull back and throw a glance into the mirror that is hanging right next to the door. I look like I live under the bridge with my dirty sweatpants and an old grey tank top that is ripped at the hem. My hair is in a messy bun. You can't even call it a bun anymore.

But there's no time to change into different clothes and also why would I? It's Brittany and I have not the slightest clue why she's here.

I take another second to think about whether I should open the door or just stand there until she leaves. I guess if she made all the way over here then it has to be something important.

I turn the key. When I open the door I get to see Brittany's back and how she's already walking away. She must have heard the key, so she turns around. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

"Oh" She exhales and makes a step towards me. "Hi. I already thought nobody was home." I knit my eyebrows together and cross my arms in front of my chest to study her.

She's still wearing the same clothes she did this morning. Her face looks tired. Like she had a hell of a day.

"Well I am…" I speak calmly. Her eyes find mine after she's been avoiding them at first.

"Right. I see that now. Am I interrupting dinner with your husband or something? It was hopefully a lie when you said that he's on a mission in Iraq?" Brittany's hands are fumbling on the zipper of her bag that she's wearing around her neck while she throws a glance into the apartment behind me.

"Oh… half of it." I answer and cause Brittany to look confused. "He's not in Iraq but he's on a mission. He's a doctor and he's travelling through Kenya to treat sick people for three weeks."

Brittany's eyes widen impressed.

"Wow. I mean ok. Then why didn't you say he's in Kenya?"

"Huh?"

"Because you told Sue he's in Iraq. Why you… why?"

"Oh! I thought it sounds more dramatic. I don't know."

Brittany nods. Her eyebrows go up.

"Yeah no - it makes sense. I guess." She says and shrugs. For a couple seconds we're staring at each other weirdly because I still don't know what she's doing here.

"Is that why you came here? To ask if my husband's really in Iraq?" I ask puzzled. Brittany quickly shakes her head.

"No. No, I uh… I came here to say I'm sorry. The way I acted in the restroom was really – and also in Shelby's office. I didn't mean to react the way I did. But I did and uhm… I want to apologize." My jaw wants to hang down in amazement. I manage to keep it attached to where it belongs. I just blink at her several times. Did she just apologize for her behavior? And came all the way at this time? How does she know where I live again?

"How do you know where I live? Did you ask one of your crazy sources?"

Brittany seems frustrated that I basically just ignored her apology but then she shakes her head with a huff.

"No… it took my quite a while to find out your address actually. I just couldn't find it anywhere so I called Quinn and she told me." I chuckle because I know why she couldn't find my name.

"That's because I'm not registered under Lopez. It's Santana Walker officially ever since I got married but I still call myself Lopez and so does everyone else. It's like I'll never get used to it." I admit with an embarrassed grin. I know it's silly that I took my husband's last name but don't call myself that.

"Oh… I didn't think of that." Brittany says and shakes her head.

We're standing there in front of each other and when I don't know what to say, I point inside the apartment.

"I don't know about you but I could use a drink after this day… I was actually about to grab a beer but then I forgot because I wanted to clean the windows first." Okay that last piece of information was not necessary. Brittany looks like she's about to laugh.

"Grab a beer?" She asks funnily and looks up and down my body as if she's deciding whether a beer would suit me. "Actually I could really use one, too. Things today have been weird." She states. I hold the door open so she can step inside after a quick hesitation.

I close the door behind her and guide her into the living room.

"Holy shit, this is huge." She sputters when her eyes wander all around the apartment. "I mean it's nice."

"Oh… thanks. My husband would not take anything under five bedrooms. I guess I can't complain."

Brittany nods and sits down on one of the couches. I quickly disappear in the kitchen and after fixing my messy bun, I return with two of Gabe's beers and a bottle opener.

I sit down in a comfy chair opposite the couch and manage to open the bottles without spilling the content. I hand one to Brittany.

"Thanks" She says when we let the bottles clink against each other. "To my job and uhm…"

"And Sue's brother in Iraq" I add. Brittany exhales a short laugh.

"Sure. To him." We take a big sip and our glances meet when I pull the bottle from my lips.

"So what else has been weird?" I ask and start playing with the lid in my other hand.

"What do you mean?" Brittany counters when she takes another sip.

"You said things today have been weird. What's weirder than me winning your job back?"

Brittany chuckles and leans back.

"Oh… I don't know. I had the worst headache when I got to the office. The day is already bad when it starts like this. And uh…" I watch how Brittany fumbles on the bottle in her hands. It looks like she's thinking about how to say what's on her mind. "I got a weird phone call in the morning. I don't know. Things were just surreal today."

Ok cryptical. Still it makes me wonder. This is like the first time Brittany says something that has nothing to do with work.

"A weird phone call? Did somebody want to sell you pencil holders, too? Because I got that call last week." Right after I say it, I know it's most definitely not the same phone call Brittany's talking about. This is rather embarrassing.

Why do these things always happen to me? She looks at me confused. Slowly she shakes her head.

"No… somebody tried to sell you a pencil holder on the phone?" I nod and three seconds later we burst into laughter. "Well no, that's not what it was." Brittany says with a chuckle. The smile on her face disappears. "It's not important though. Let's talk about something else."

"But you just got me curious. Come on…" I don't know what I'm trying to get out of her. I don't know what weird phone call she's talking about. I just feel like this is the chance to find out more about her. Brittany narrows her eyes. She seems to study me carefully. As if she's pondering whether she can trust me.

"It was someone I haven't heard of in a while. Like in over a year."

"Ok. A friend?"

"Nah not really. It was… it was the mother of my ex." My eyes widen because that's not exactly what I was expecting. I wasn't expecting anything but also not this.

"That sounds quite awkward."

Brittany bobs her head.

"I guess you could say that." I'm not sure if she wants to talk about it or if we should drop it. It does sound quite personal but I sort of want to know more. I mean now that she's here…

"What does the mother of your ex want from you after such a long time?"

Brittany takes another sip and shrugs softly.

"She wants me to call my ex's sister because it's her birthday soon. We always got along pretty well."

"Alright… but if you got along so well you probably would have remembered yourself, right?" I ask matter-of-factly.

"Technically but we're not talking anymore. I haven't kept in touch with any member of the family in over a year. The call came out of the blue. That's why it was so weird."

"I see… I'm sorry if I'm being too nosy but that sounds like a nasty break-up. Have you also not spoken to your ex since you broke up?"

Brittany bites on her bottom lip. I feel like I hit a nerve. Immediately I regret it and wish I could rewind those past ten seconds. "I'm sorry you don't have to answer that. We can totally talk about something else."

Brittany rests her head against the backrest of the couch. She stares at the bottle in her hands for a couple seconds. Then she takes a breath and throws a short glance at me.

"No it's ok. I uhm… I haven't talked to anyone of the family because my ex-girlfriend died almost two years ago. She… she died of a brain tumor. She broke up with me shortly before."

It feels like something inside me just got ripped apart or something. I almost drop the beer when I wordlessly stare at Brittany. A hundred thousand thoughts are crashing down on me at the same time and I can't get one clear one. Died? Ex-girlfriend?

"What…" I can't form a proper sentence so I'm not even going to try. I need to sort the utter confusion in my head.

Brittany seems to read my inner turmoil.

"I'm sorry, that's quite a bomb to drop. I just… I've never really talked about this. I shouldn't have said it. We don't even know each other well. I'm sorry."

"No! God no..." I'm glad I've managed to at least say somethingso Brittany won't think I'm a complete idiot. "Please don't be sorry! I mean I'msorry. This is horrible. I don't know what to say… I…"

"You don't have to say anything. It's just something that happened in my past and I guess it's a reason why I'm sometimes acting the way I do. It's not an excuse but… I can't blame the people who think I'm a bitch because really I am."

I'm still clutching to the beer bottle in my hand, blinking at the sight in front of me; a completely different person than the one I got to know a week ago. A vulnerable, brokenhearted version of the woman who made it easy not to like her too much.

I put the bottle on the small coffee table between us once I've regained some composure. I hesitate at first but then I get up from the chair and sit down next to her on the couch.

"You shouldn't think of yourself this way. You're not a bitch, you just… well, you seemed really cruel. But you don't have to explain your behavior to me. It's your personal life and…"

"Santana, I really feel like I do have to explain. The truth is, I'm tired of people thinking I'm a heartless bitch. I used to not give a damn but the phone call this morning somehow woke me up. I haven't talked to Diane's family in months. I disappeared out of their lives because I couldn't handle being around them and everyone who kept reminding me so much of Diane. At the same time I felt endlessly guilty because we split up so shortly before her death. Her mother never said it out loud but I know exactly she held a grudge against me. I could have made Diane's last days much more carefree. But we had another fight even though I knew she was sick. One day it was just too much. She said it was over. I guess she also did it because she didn't want me to see her die but I was there anyway when she did. And…"

I can't believe what I'm hearing because I would have never thought that there might be such a story behind those walls she has obviously pulled up around her. Some just broke down in front of me.

I realize that I have scooted closer to her when my knee bumps against hers. Somehow my hand has made its way on her back, just like this morning in the restroom.

It's again just one single tear that is rolling down her cheek, almost as if she can't cry more at a time.

"Brittany I…" There are no words that could make this any less sad or in any way better. Instead my other hand finds place on her arm. I don't know what I'm doing but I softly rub it to somehow convey comfort. It probably doesn't help.

I watch how she buries her face in her hands and slowly shakes her head.

"Shit…" She mumbles with another muffled noise coming from between her hands. I see a second tear drop making its way down her cheek until it falls off her chin and lands on the sleeve of her blazer.

"I'm sorry. I didn't plan all this. This must be really awkward for you. That's not why I came here tonight. I really just wanted to say sorry."

Then her upper body starts shaking. "God... I'm sorry" She mumbles under a heartbreaking sob. I let my hand on her back wander over her shoulder so I can embrace her from the side.

"Stop it already with all the sorrys." I hush and squeeze her carefully. Her ribcage keeps moving up and down erratically while bitter tears are streaming down her cheeks. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do because I'm already holding her tight. What do you do in such situations anyway? Words are stupid. Words don't help.

I feel her body slowly turning towards me. I'm glad there's some sort of reaction to my embrace because I have no idea if this is ok.

My body goes on autopilot when my left hand reaches for her cheek and with my thumb I wipe some of her tears.

Maybe I'm making it up in my head but she leans into my touch. For a second my alarm system goes off when I realize that our faces are suddenly incredibly close.

Before I can react and pull back, I have already forgotten about it and I'm pressing a kiss to her temple. It just happens naturally.

Her sobbing becomes less immediately. Surprised and happy about the effect, I press another one to her cheek bone. The skin there is hot. I almost burn my lips but it doesn't stop me from lingering a little longer this time.

A soft whimper tumbles over her lips and it makes my heart race like crazy. Somehow my thumb on her cheek is still caressing her skin even though the tears have stopped running. When Brittany slowly turns her head, I can feel my breath hitting her cheek.

If I wanted to stop now it's too late – it's been too late ever since I sat down next to her. I don't know what's happening with me. We're not looking into each other's eyes because I'm way too scared. I'm hanging on her lips when she wets them with her tongue and before I know it they are pressing against mine.

Thousands of grenades explode inside me. They warm every single cell I possess until they get overheated and dare to explode, too.

My brain has turned off but my senses are working ten times as hard. Our lips are not moving but they are so definitely connected and this time a whimper escapes my mouth as Brittany's breath mixes with mine. She pulls my upper lip between hers. I feel like I'm going to fall off that couch any second.

It's like a lightning bolt hits our mouths when I come back to my senses and open my eyes. I slowly pull back when everything comes crashing down on me. I just kissed someone who's not my husband. But a woman.

Brittany's eyes are still closed when I scan her face. Suddenly I'm feeling sick. Deep blue flashes me when she opens her eyes. My breath hitches.

Some incoherent noise leaves my lips. I take my hands from wherever they were resting on Brittany's body and I scoot back to bring some air between us.

"Uhm… uh" I mutter when Brittany seems to regain her mental self. She blinks several times, as if she's checking if this just happened. Which I've been doing constantly ever since I opened my eyes.

Brittany gets up on her feet and makes a step back. I see how she's running her hands through her hair.

"Oh my…" She mumbles. For a second our glances meet. "I uh… I'm sorry"

I get up, too and I'm surprised I actually manage because my legs feel like cotton or something.

We're automatically standing close again once I'm up. I step back so there is an obvious distance between us.

"Brittany… I'm… this-"

"No, you don't have to say anything. Please I feel like an idiot. I'm so sorry. I guess it was some sort of reflex because I've been weeping like a baby on your couch. I'll leave now."

She bends down to grab the bag that has been lying on the floor before she crosses the room to get to the front door. I follow her and when she reaches for the doorknob she turns around once more.

We're staring at each other, but I have no idea what to say or do. And so I just watch how she slowly opens the door and steps outside. My eyes follow her to see how she walks away from the house. She doesn't turn around but she does hesitate for a moment. It's just a second. Then her steps become determined and quick. Soon she's disappeared around a corner and I'm still staring at that spot seconds later.

My mind is empty and so is my heart right now. Like someone opened a little valve and everything I have ever believed to know just got pressed out of me.