AN: And to reward you all for your awesomeness . . . .
Santana Lopez was stood in line, patiently waiting to be served her first cup of coffee of the morning. She had slept through her alarm and hastily decided to stop by her favourite coffee store on the way to work having realised she did indeed have a few minutes to spare, thanks to the time she and Brittany saved by showering together. 'Yeah right' she smirked as she absentmindedly rubbed at the hickey on her collar bone. She was just thankful she always set her alarm thirty minutes before she was actually required to rise. Santana Lopez was always prepared, it was her 'what if' mantra and this morning that extra half an hour had proven very useful indeed. She had Coach Sylvester to thank for that. Her Cheerios routines and training sessions were often so rigorous it would wipe her out with exhaustion, therefore alarm setting had become an art. She had worked out exactly how long it would take her to wake up once that shrill penetrated her brain in the mornings. She now found it a very useful skill indeed.
The Latina shuffled forward, looking around with a frown, wondering where indeed all these people had appeared from this early in the morning. Her sunglasses covered her tired eyes and gave her a hint of anonymity. If truth be told, Santana's eyes still stung slightly from the tremendous release of emotion she endured the previous day. She had needed it, the brunette would be the first to admit that. She had once been so open with her emotions, shedding a tear when needed, however her experiences over the years had toughened her up, firstly came the split with Brittany, secondly was the constant pressure of being in the limelight, public perception had 'apparently' become paramount. She had a tight public relations team when she had first become notorious, however, the constant reigning in and rules had taken it's toll on the brunette and had decided if anyone knew what was in her best interests, it was Quinn and decided to sack her PR. It was a huge risk and went against the grain, but she was Santana Lopez and she was far from conformity. High school had taught her that. She knew she was happy being herself, although she remained keen on keeping her private life just that. Thinking about the situation often tired her out, there were so many contradictions, on the one hand Santana wanted to be herself, she was aware of press etiquette, knew the right things to say and do in front of the camera without a major intrusion into her personal life, however, she never particularly hid who she was, but she didn't publicise either. People made their own conclusions and in that respect, she was happy to go with it. The only opinions that truly mattered to her at the end of the day were the ones of those closest to her, her family and her friends. It was a far cry from her high school days, but she knew she currently had the public in the palm of her hand and raised a small smile of victory.
Then there was the studio. Explaining to Brittany that they currently 'own my ass', she couldn't complain, they were paying her good money to appear in her film and so when a photograph appeared on a gossip website the day before, they hauled her into the office for an explanation.
As she approached the desk, the laptop upon it was turned in her direction, her brow furrowed before she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. When she received no verbal response from the guy in the suit before she shrugged and shook her head.
"What?" she asked, seeing nothing wrong.
"Santana, how many times do we have to have this discussion?"
"What discussion? Give me a clue here?" Santana asked incredulously.
"Can you see that picture?" the guy asked.
"Yeeees?" she drew out.
"You're being difficult."
"Santana," Quinn began, "just explain." She sighed, her arms folded across her chest.
"It's me and Britt." She said with a shrug.
"She has her hand in your back pocket and her head on your shoulder!" The man in the chair exclaimed. It was true, Santana remembered the moment well, she had felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach as the blonde had rested her head upon the Latina's shoulder and sneaked her hand into the back pocket of Santana's jeans, pulling her closer as she did so. She too rested her head against Brittany's enjoying the feel of the silken blonde locks against her cheek. The picture had been taken through the window behind them. She wondered if any more photographs were going to appear, as they had left the store very giggly and smiley.
"I can see that." Santana said, seeing the face before her turn red with anger she held her hand up before continuing. "We were getting coffee, it was early, she was tired, she put her head on my shoulder. Why am I explaining this?" Santana asked innocently.
"She's just a friend." Quinn said on Santana's behalf, knowing the brunette would be unwilling to lie.
"Just a friend." The executive repeated.
"Are we done?" Santana asked, looking particularly bored by the conversation.
"You can't be seen in this situation again. This is not the first time you've been pictured with this dancer girl." Santana's scowl turned into disbelief.
"Her name is Brittany, she's one of the best dancers on the cast and she nearly died filming this movie."
"San," Quinn warned, placing a gentle hand on Santana's arm. "leave this to me." The blonde turned her attention to the smug man sat in the oversized leather chair. "You won't have a problem, they're just close friends from high school and haven't seen each other in some time. It'll be fine." She assured with a sweet smile. Santana rolled her eyes. This was the exact reason she had Quinn Fabray by her side, those twinkling eyes and innocent smile, any man became putty in her hands.
"I trust your judgement Miss Fabray." Santana sighed with relief, she was aching to get to a comfortable chair and have a much desired coffee. The Latina turned to leave, before being halted in her tracks. "One more thing Miss Lopez." Santana sighed dramatically.
"You can't film with another black eye."
"She's so clumsy." Quinn broke out into fake laughter, "You wouldn't believe how much of a drama queen she can be." Santana's scowl returned more exaggerated than before, her arms folded across her chest and looked at the blonde incredulously, deciding she was better off staying quiet and going with the blonde's plan.
"I hear there was an incident with your trailer door."
"Death traps!" Quinn all but shouted. "You need to get Santana a new trailer, it's just not good enough. Look at her face." The blonde demanded, "Give her a new trailer and things like this," she pointed to the bruising around the brunette's eye, "won't happen again." The guy before her frowned slightly before his eyes softened as his eyes landed on Quinn once again.
"Done." He agreed. "Go home and rest up Miss Lopez, I'm sorry the trailer was not up to standard. We'll see you on set tomorrow."
"Finally!" Santana threw her arms in the air and again turned to leave.
"One more thing Miss Lopez." She heard from behind her. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, she turned slightly. "No more photographs in compromising positions."
"Fine. Whatever." Santana vehemently spat before storming out of the office, the blonde hurrying after her.
Santana glanced out of the window with a sigh, smiling admiringly at the sight of Brittany dozing in the passenger seat of her car. It had taken a large amount of convincing and promises to keep the blonde in the car. The brunette knew all too well how tactile her girlfriend became before she had her morning caffeine intake. She could not run the risk of being hauled in the executive's office once again, it was becoming a regular occurrence and was running out of excuses. Her view was suddenly blocked by gangly, young looking guy, wearing a scruffy shirt, tie and suit pants. He smiled before shoving a voice recorder into her face.
"Care to comment Miss Lopez?" Santana's scowl was barely visible beneath her sunglasses, but the tone in her voice demonstrated her annoyance.
"On what exactly?"
"Your relationship with Miss Pierce?"
"We went to high school together and I have nothing else to say."
"Next please." She heard, turned her head and ordered two coffees to go, 'quickly'.
"Two coffees Miss Lopez? Is that Miss Pierce in your car outside, so early in the morning?" the floppy haired reporter asked. Santana rolled her eyes and sighed, choosing to ignore the questions. She pulled out her cell phone and typed out a quick message, instructing Brittany to jump into the driver's seat and start the engine. She prayed the blonde had taken her cell off silent and would wake her from her light nap. Upon hearing a car engine over rev, she smiled, knowing full well the blonde had indeed heeded her instruction.
"Your coffees ma'am." Santana took the cup holder containing the paper cups from the barista and brushed passed the reporter, her concentration firmly on the door before her.
"Miss Lopez?" she heard the reporter call. Ignoring him for the last time she burst through the door and rushed to the car, jumping in and hastily closing the door.
"Drive." She yelled, the blonde not wasting a single minute put her foot down.
"I love it when you get all demanding." She smirked with a side glance and a wink. Santana laughed at the woman beside her before handing her a cup of much needed caffeine.
"Make sure you put that in the holder properly, I do not want coffee spilling all over this car." The Latina demanded.
"Stop it San, you're turning me on." Brittany said straight faced, her eyes focused on the road before, her knuckles turning white from the tight grip she had on the steering wheel. Santana turned in her seat and frowned. She could tell the blonde was desperately trying to concentrate on the road.
"Britt, I was talking about coffee, how can that turn you on?" she asked.
"It wasn't what you said," she said with a slight thoughtful lilt at the end, "It was the way you said it." Santana smiled, she loved Brittany whole heartedly, even the little ways in which she thought about things.
"I have to call Quinn." The Latina spoke abruptly. Brittany whipped her head sideways and looked inquisitively at her girlfriend. "I had an encounter with a reporter in the coffee store." She explained. "He asked about our relationship."
"Is it because of that picture?" Brittany asked.
"I guess so. I just need to give Quinn the heads up."
"I love that picture." Brittany said wistfully with a smile.
"Me too." Santana smiled, "I don't see why everyone's busting a blood vessel over it."
"It's your career San, some people don't like seeing you with girls instead of boys." The blonde explained.
"I know, but why shouldn't be able to share my happiness?" Santana sighed in frustration. Brittany placed a loving hand on the Latina's thigh and squeezed it sympathetically.
"Right now we have each other and that's more important to me than anything else." The dancer spoke softly.
"Oh Britt," Santana sighed, her head falling back against the headrest, "I love you so much."
"I know you do." Was the response. Santana laughed and looked down at the cell phone vibrating in her hand.
"It's Quinn." She said as she pressed the button to receive the call and placed the device to her ear, "Hey Quinn." She greeted, "I was just going to call you."
"So you've seen the papers then?" came the voice from the other end.
"No, what papers, what's going on?" Santana frowned and glanced at the girl beside her who simply shrugged. She put her cell on speaker phone, including Brittany in the conversation.
"Is Brittany with you?"
"Yeah I'm here Quinn." Brittany said breezily. "How are you?"
"I'm good thanks Britt, how are you?"
"I'm great, we had the best shower this morn-"
"Hey," Santana cut in, "can we get to the point here please?" she demanded. Brittany mumbled an apology as she pulled up to traffic lights.
"San, you two have been outed, big style." The blonde PA reported with a defeated sigh.
"What?" Santana yelled, "How? By who?" she seethed.
"San, don't be mad, you were just saying . . ."
"Not now Brit." Santana interrupted, her hand up in front of her face. "Quinn what happened?" she asked.
"We think the story broke from Bryan's family, they're blaming you for splitting up the marriage, calling you and I quote 'a devious home wrecking lesbian whore'. We need to get a pro in on this San, I can't manage this one on my own."
"Call my lawyer, we'll do them for liable."
"Is it true?" Quinn asked, "Did you have an affair?"
"Come on Quinn, I can't believe you're even asking that? You know everything that happened. We kissed like once, that was it, we didn't even sleep together until recently."
"I have to be sure if I'm to do my job. I need all the facts. You're going to get it from all angles San."
"Bryan cheated on me, he admitted it and he accepted it as the grounds for divorce." Brittany explained.
"Look," Quinn began, "at best it's an attempt to get a nice little payout. If the family is anything like Bryan, they won't care who they hurt in the process. It's out there now, we need to come up with something."
"Berry's the home wrecking whore, she's the one who Bryan had an affair with, why the hell is the focus on me here?" Santana asked.
"Because you're hot and I'm hot and it's way more interesting." Brittany offered. Santana laughed, despite the situation, she always had Brittany and that would never change.
"I'm going to get your agent to get you on Ellen."
"But I just did Ellen, there's no way I can get back on there again so soon." Santana said.
"Alright, alright, I'll think of something else." Quinn said. "Just one more thing . . ."
"OHMYGOD!" Yelled Brittany as she turned the vehicle into the lot.
"I guess you've arrived then." Quinn said drolly on the other end of the line. Brittany attempted to steer the car through the throngs of paparazzi and reporters. "I should have warned you to arrive separately."
"Yeah well it's a bit late for that." Santana snarled. "We'll see you inside." The Latina said before hanging up. "I'm going to be in so much trouble." She sighed.
"It'll be fine," Brittany began, trying to avoid the flashes of the cameras. "We'll be fine San." She reassured.
"Yeah." Santana sighed, "I think I may just have an idea." The brunette smirked triumphantly. Brittany steered the car through the studio gates for another long day at work.