Author's Note;; unbeta'd, and finished up at 3 in the morning. Probably mistakes galore, my apologies.
Present Time
There was one thing that Santana had always been regardless of her station in life, and that was arrogant, secure in herself and her abilities to carry out whatever she had set her mind to.
And in this case, it was to kiss all coherent thought out of Brittany's mind.
When she felt Brittany's arm curve around her neck and a cool hand reaching up to cup her cheek, Santana grinned, the corners of her mouth pulling up as smugness spread all throughout her body. Her own arms were looped around Brittany's waist, holding the taller woman upright as her mouth slanted over the blonde's. It'd been six years since their last kiss, last touch- Last words, even. And their last exchange hadn't been filled with bubbles and sunshine daisies. No, it had been filled to the brim with bitterness, hurt and this terrifying sense of finality. It had been as though a steep trap had snapped shut the door of the connection they shared, slamming it hard and severing all ties.
Could Santana really be blamed for getting immersed within the kiss, falling back upon muscle memory to coax Brittany to open her mouth and coax her tongue out to play? Could she really be blamed for allowing herself to forget that they weren't who they were before- not even close-, that they were in the White House, and that things were never this easy?
She was, however, forcibly reminded of all of the above when a palm crashed into the side of her face, causing her to stagger backwards, hands cradling her throbbing cheek. What the hell? That had taken her completely by surprise, and she hadn't enjoyed it at all. Plus, a whole slew of other memories came with that smack.
"He what?"
Thirteen year old Brittany flinched away from the older girl, blue eyes wide. She didn't really see what the problem was- Or why telling Santana that Sam had come over for a study session earlier and ended up being her first kiss would cause the girl to look as though she was going to explode. Right now, Santana reminded her of that guy in that Hercules movie- The one with fire for hair and in serious need of anger management classes.
"Sam came over and he just kissed me," Brittany repeated, blinking owlishly. She wasn't really scared of Santana, it was just that her yell had been unexpected.
The brunette seemed to seethe ferociously in silence for a few moments before she could manage a "Did you like it? Did you want it?"
Brittany had to think about it and recall the feel of Sam clumsily pressing his mouth to hers. It had been too enthusiastic on his part, and lacked any kind of finesse and skill. All in all, it hadn't been that enjoyable. Not an ideal or perfect first kiss, anyway. "No, not really."
"Okay. Okay." Rubbing her fingers against her temple, Santana thought about it for a few seconds. "Okay. The next time someone tries to kiss you and you don't want it to happen, smack them."
"Smack them?" Brittany echoed, confused.
"Yes. Slap them across the face. It'd get them to back off and put a little respect into their pea-sized brains. Alright?"
"Okay."
"Yeah? Tell me what you'll do if someone tries to kiss you without permission. You...Will..." Santana coaxed.
"I will smack their face," Brittany parroted obediently.
Santana smiled then, teeth flashing as he picked up the younger girl in a tight hug.
}{}{}{
Two days later Brittany bounced into Santana's room, a wide grin on her face.
"I smacked Sam today when he said that he was my boyfriend and tried to kiss me," She informed the older girl proudly, hopping up on the bed and paying absolutely no mind to the books and notes scattered on the sheets.
"Yeah?" Santana returned her smirk, reaching one fist out in order to bump it gently against Brittany's.
"Yeah! Then he went to tell Quinn and I think she might be angry..." Brittany trailed off, feeling a little dismayed at the thought.
"That's okay. You were standing up for yourself and that kind of shit is important. I'll deal with Q if she gets hissy." Santana reassured the young blonde, before dark eyes turned pensive. "I might have to have a little talk with Handsy Ken about keeping his grubby paws to himself," She mused.
"No it's fine!" Brittany insisted, "He was really close but I didn't want him to kiss me again so I slapped him like this-" Enthusiastically, she swung her hand, not really paying attention to what she was doing. Before her flailing palm could connect with Santana's face, however, the older girl had managed to snag her wrist and pull said hand down.
"Easy there tiger," She said, voice wry, "I don't need a throbbing cheek. Sue would flip a bitch if I turned up to practice with a swollen face tomorrow." At Brittany's pout, she grinned, thumb rubbing soothingly over the blonde's hand, "How about you demonstrate your smack of doom on Puck tomorrow? Make it good and convincing, and I'll rate you out of ten."
When Brittany nodded and bounced excitedly, Santana grinned. Oh, she couldn't wait for Noah Puckerman to find out how strong Brittany's arm truly was.
And now she was on the receiving end of that arm.
"Fuck," She managed to hiss out, rubbing her face gently, "What the fuck was that for?"
"Just carrying out some good advice," Brittany retorted, before opening the door. She had to jump back when Puck and Finn nearly fell through the entryway, with Quinn scuttling in just behind them.
When the shorter blonde caught sight of the disgruntled brunette, however, she didn't react the way anyone expected her to. Noah had thought she would gasp and start shouting; Finn wasn't thinking much of anything, instead choosing to gape wordlessly at Santana; and Brittany had expected her to... Well, do something, anything besides just walking up to her old friend and engulfing her in a massive hug, lips to a tanned ear as she breathed out words too softly for the others to catch. Whatever she said had Santana smiling and pulling her closer, burying her face into the curve of Quinn's neck before they separated.
It irked Brittany when she realized that what she felt was jealously when Santana's fingers lingered on Quinn's arm for just that second too long.
}{}{}{
Ten minutes ago
"Um," Quinn cleared her throat nervously when Puck kept staring at her worriedly.
"What is it babe?" He asked, palm pressing soothingly against her hip. It radiated warmth even through the material of her jeans, and Quinn revelled in it. The comfort and stability she felt at the unconscious gesture gave her courage enough to gesture weakly at the door the man had disappeared through.
"We should check on Britt," She managed, linking her fingers with his and towing him (and Finn by default) out of the room. "Because I think her visitor is most probably Santana."
"Wait, what?" The mohawk'd man stopped them in their tracks, tugging at their interlaced hands gently until she turned to face him. "How do you know that? Seriously, Quinn, what's going on?" His hazel eyes were so open and soft, it made her bite nervously at her lower lip, suddenly afraid of what his reaction would be at what she knew. After Santana had bailed and left Brittany's heart in a mess, he had gone on a rampage, reminding Quinn rather forcibly of old Godzilla versus King Kong movies. It'd taken him days to get that rage under control, for her to find and talk to him. Of everyone in New Directions (aside from Brittany, for obvious reasons), he had taken Santana's departure the hardest.
"Puck?"
For the first time in four days, the young man wasn't busy destroying something, or blasting angry music and drinking while he destroyed something else. No, it seemed as though his energy was gone and he was crashing. It was a little disconcerting actually, for Quinn to see the usually rambunctious boy lying silently on his bed, unblinking eyes fixed on the ceiling. Unnerved as she was though, Quinn made her way over and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.
"Quinn. Sup." His voice was flat and a little rusty, and he sounded so tired and much older than his twenty one years of age.
"Your mum let me in," She offered, unsure of what else to say. He didn't deign to reply, instead letting out a non-committal grunt. Impulsively, she shifted to lie on her side, adjusting her dress so it didn't ride up her legs before reaching for his hand and locking their fingers together.
"Noah," She tried again, voice soft, "You weren't the only one she left behind."
He moved, turning his head to look at first their joined hands, then into her eyes. "I know."
"Talk to me, please?" She asked (read: pleaded), thumb smoothing over the back of his hand almost absently.
The man remained silent for a few moments, causing Quinn to believe that he wasn't going to say anything before he croaked, "She was my first."
"I know." Quinn hesitated, before admitting, "She was mine, too." She thought she caught a faint glimmer of his old self flash into hazel eyes, but it disappeared far too quickly.
"But Brittany's like a sister to me," He finally continued, "She may have been my first, but Britt is like my younger sister. And no one should be able to fuck with my family. Doesn't matter if they're my first or not." Turning onto his side and propping his head up on a hand, Puck managed a faint smile. "A part of me wants to find her and kick her ass for doing that to Britt- To all of us. Another part hopes she'd crash and burn. But yet another wishes her the best in life. She managed to get out of his dead town faster than any of us, anyway.
"Maybe she's right, Quinn. New Directions would probably never amount to anything, and we're all what we never wanted to be- Lima losers."
All of this was just serving to depress her as well. With a sigh, Quinn wiggled closer and pillowed her face into his shirt, one arm laid over his chest. He froze for a while before laying one hand gently on the small of her back, fingers splayed open and palm warm. Puck had lost a 'bro' when Santana left, and Quinn had lost her best friend. Optimism seemed out of their grasp but Quinn really didn't want to wallow in self-pity, so she figured the next best thing was mutual comfort.
Or well, more of silent comfort for Puck while Quinn plotted for ways in which she could either entice Santana back, or get them all out of Lima whilst simultaneously trying to fix both Puck and Brittany.
"Quinn?" It was Brittany who found her voice first, managing to call out the shorter blonde's name in confusion. "Did you know Santana was going to be here?"
Said girl bit her lip, hazel glance lifting to sweep over the brunette woman before she shook her head. Puck stalked closer, hands balled into angry fists as he situated himself firmly by his girlfriend's side, glowering down the tip of his nose to an uninterested Santana who was peering at her nails in a bored fashion. Once she had deemed them perfect, she looked up, dark brown eyes impassive.
"Hudson," She nodded to the taller man, before smirking at a fuming Puck, "Puckerone. How's life been treating you?"
Without giving anyone a chance to snarl out a response, Santana sauntered Brittany and gripped her elbow before steering the both of them quickly out of the room. Quinn supposed that the reason for that was so that everyone was still in a general state of confusion and wouldn't be able to stop her from doing just about anything. The three of them left behind could faintly make out Santana saying "Come on B, I'm dying to see the rest of New Directions again. Reintroductions are in order."
Turning to Quinn, both men crossed their arms over their chest while the shorter one raised one eyebrow at her. "What," Puck demanded lowly, "Was that?"
"It's really not my story to tell," The blonde fidgeted, "Either Sue or Santana should be the one telling everyone- We should go after them."
"Quinn," Puck sighed, annoyed and utterly frustrated.
"Please, Noah," Quinn touched her hand to his arm, "It isn't my place to say. My knowing was a complete accident."
He didn't seem convinced, but neither did he put up any more protest as the three of them quickly and silently returned to the room the rest of New Directions was in, just a few seconds before Santana shoved at the door and held it open for Brittany before she stepped in herself and drawled, loud enough to gain everyone's attention, "Sup, bitches?"
The instantaneous silence would have been funny and so reminiscent of high school Santana that Brittany would have smiled fondly and laughed, except you know, they weren't there anymore. Everyone had changed in more ways than one- Everyone including Santana, as was evident by where they currently were.
After a few seconds had ticked by, the room exploded, voices drowning others out as they all questioned Santana's appearance. The general consensus wavered between "What the hell?" and "Oh dear god it's Santana" with a "Santana's at the white house too?" thrown in. When the racket died down a little, Rachel's voice rang out the loudest:
"This room is for New Directions members only. By quitting six years prior, Santana," She spat out the taller woman's name, "You forfeited the right to stand here amongst us. Furthermore-"
Before she could continue, a chorus of "Hell yea"s and "what she said"s rang out, and Santana found herself on the receiving end of at least seven glares. Her eyes rolled contemptuously and she was about to shoot a scathing remark that would smack everyone with a face full of nostalgia, but Sue chose that moment to stroll in.
"No can do, turnip dwarf. Santana is New Directions."
Everyone gaped while Sue, smirking at her ability to render everyone speechless, tilted her head in the Latina's direction.
"Damn straight." Santana grinned smugly, dropping into the nearest seat and crossing her legs before folding her arms around her chest. Her dark gaze met with Quinn's pleading hazel ones asking for her to break it to everyone as gently as she could, before she looked to Brittany. The tall blonde just looked confuddled.
"I own New Directions. All yo shiz are belong to us- Or rather, me."
Thoughts?