Brittany woke up early in the morning. Quinn had surely stayed up reading until late, because when Brittany went to check on her, she was buried under her comforter and the only thing that could be heard in the room were her faint snores. Brittany had automatically thought about waking her friend and dragging her to their usual Starbucks, but she quickly realized there was no point in that anymore; the stranger had been found, not only that, but the stranger currently resided under the same roof as her. That last thought made a surge of nervous energy curse up and down her spine. She was ready to see Santana again.
But there was no such luck. She did find Nina in the kitchen, though; she was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper, muttering in Spanish, clearly displeased with the news, whatever they might have been. When she saw Brittany walk in, she smiled softly and said "Buen día. You are up early." Brittany smiled in turn and offered her own "Buen día," and she explained that she'd fallen asleep way too early, and she felt like she had too much energy. She then headed towards the cupboard that she had stored all her new cereals in the day before, and she fixed herself a bowl. She sat at the table, ate a spoonful and immediately realized that it tasted exactly like regular corn flakes. So maybe cereal was universal.
When she looked up, Nina's clear blue eyes were boring into her pensively. The older woman quickly softened her gaze and asked "So, Brittany, what is it you do back in New York?" Brittany tried to answer, but soon discovered that her mouth was full. She chewed quickly and told Nina that she was a dance student. The woman promptly asked what type of dance she did and seemed very satisfied when Brittany told her that she did mostly classical at school, but that she liked modern styles also. "You know, I have a box at the theatre that's just been gathering dust for a long time now. You girls should make use of it, go to the ballet." Nina offered. Brittany gave the woman a huge smile, thanked her and told her they would love to. After that, Nina went back to her paper.
Brittany took her time to examine the woman more closely, she didn't look very much like Santana in the most obvious physical aspects but there was a familiar self-assuredness and ease in the way they carried themselves which Brittany thought they both shared. She kept wondering about Nina: she seemed jovial yet her eyes revealed a deep disappointment, which seemed to ail her like an old wound that wouldn't heal. Brittany frowned as she imagined what could possibly have happened to the woman in front of her to make her so hurt but also so in tune with her own pain. There had surely been a tragedy in her past, but there was also infinite resignation.
"You are too young to frown so much, dear." Nina said as she looked at the younger girl from the side of her eye. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to stare," Brittany quickly replied, "So what do you do?" Nina smiled and pondered the question for a while until finally she answered "Well, I'm a glorified professor now, but I used to be an essayist and a translator." Nina looked at the watch on her wrist "Oh, look at that: Ya voy a llegar tarde. Hasta luego, Brittany." And with that, she left the room.
Soon after that, Quinn showed up in the kitchen already dressed and ready to go. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and informed Brittany that their plan for the day was to go to the neighborhood of San Telmo. Once they'd both had breakfast, they headed out.
Brittany thought San Telmo was beautiful, and a strange mixture of old buildings, colorful graffiti, antique shops and little fashion and design boutiques. She stopped at a little shop and bought a very old photograph of two smiling young girls at the beach, wearing old timey bathing suits. On the bottom of the picture an inscription read "Mar del Plata". She wasn't very sure why she bought the picture, but when she was a child she'd been very interested in time travel. Back then, any time that she saw an old photo, she'd take a moment to examine the faces, see if she could find someone who looked like a time traveler. By the time she stopped believing she'd find the travelers, she'd developed a fondness for black and white pictures, and the many distant stories they told.
Quinn had wanted to buy about ten different pieces of furniture and Brittany had had to remind her, in every occasion, that Quinn's apartment was in a whole different country and that she was pretty sure that they wouldn't be able to fit a Louis XV chair in their backpacks. Quinn would pout and move on to the next thing.
They'd had lunch in the San Telmo market, surrounded by the colorful fruit and vegetable stands that were inside. When they were done with lunch, they'd headed towards Puerto Madero, a part of the city that used to be a port, but looked more like a rich residential neighborhood. They crossed a bridge and headed towards a famous fountain that Quinn said was, supposedly, a must-see.
Once they got there, Brittany agreed, the fountain was worthy of a visit. It wasn't big or very imposing; there was nothing about it very monumental. But the figures sculpted into the stone had been shaped with such grace that they were mesmerizing. The girls stood for a long time and contemplated the sculptures of mythical women whose legs turned into fins. Brittany thought that if such creatures existed, they would have been able to move in the water in such beautiful ways. The thought made her want to dance.
When their feet got tired of walking, they returned to the apartment in Galileo Street. They had an early dinner and they watched a movie in Quinn's room before they said goodnight and Brittany went to sleep in her own bed. That night she could also hear the sound of music coming from Santana's room. She sighed and closed her eyes, and soon she fell asleep thinking that she hadn't seen Santana's face at all that day. In the middle of the night, the noise from Santana's door opening and closing had woken her. She heard steps that headed down the stairs, the faint click of the front door being closed.
The next morning she woke up, got showered and dressed, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Nina and Quinn were already there and they were having a very spirited conversation about a book. They both spoke so enthusiastically fast and with a strange mixture of English and Spanish words that Brittany thought that's what Alice must have felt, when she had tea with the Mad Hatter. She grabbed her bowl of cereal and sat at the table, to observe the women. They seemed to be very pleased to have found somebody to fight over literary analysis with. Brittany decided she'd never understand those types.
Once the great breakfast debate was over, Quinn said they were going to La Boca, Nina smiled, told them to go to the Quinquela Martín museum, and left, announcing that she was running ten minutes late already.
La Boca was a lower class neighborhood right by the Rio de la Plata shore; it was both colorful and melancholic. Everywhere they went there were allusions to tango and Brittany was itching to see the dance live already. They finally found a couple dancing in the middle of Caminito. They watched for a long time. Brittany informed Quinn that she wasn't going to leave the country without learning how to tango. Quinn just smiled and said, "Me neither." They walked around some more, had lunch and went to the museum that Nina had spoken about earlier.
When they got home in the afternoon, Brittany changed into sweats and went to the patio o dance for a bit. Cerbero had been happy to see her at first, but he hadn't been very interested in her dancing and instead had decided to lie down and roll around in a flower bed.
After dancing she went upstairs to take a shower. She'd seen from the hallway that the door to Santana's room was ajar and the lights were off. She'd guessed the brunette wasn't home, and she felt slightly disappointed in that. After her shower, she'd gone downstairs. Quinn and her made a simple salad and sat down to eat.
"Britt," Quinn called from her place at the table, "why do you have the same face that you had the time when you thought Lord Tubbs had relapsed?" Brittany exhaled slowly before she answered, "I don't know. It's just that I found the girl and I live two doors down from her, but it feels like she's an even bigger mystery now than she was before." Quinn smiled "Well, have you tried to talk to her?" she asked. Brittany shook her head "No, I haven't had the chance, she's never around, and I think she doesn't sleep at night. She might be a vampire, and not the sparkly kind," she finished with a frown. Quinn laughed "Well, the Brittany S. Pierce I know eats sexy vampires for breakfast. Why don't you just talk to her the next time you see her?" she told her friend. Brittany just nodded and kept eating.
Quinn was right, if Santana was so elusive, she'd have to be at her most charming at every chance that she had. It had been decided then and there that she'd seize any and every opportunity she got. No more being an overwhelmed mess, no more casual pleasantness; it was time to flirt the pants off of the beautiful latina, who was also possibly the sexiest vampire ever. She went to bed that night with a new found sense of determination.
When she woke up extra early that morning, she felt energized and proactive. She hurried downstairs to the kitchen in her pajamas, her hair in a messy bun, to get some breakfast. Instead of her usual cereal, she grabbed a sweet called an "alfajor" and she made herself some tea. She was sitting down at the table, waiting for her tea to cool down a bit, with her chin rested on her left hand, when Santana walked into the kitchen. She seemed like she was in a hurry. She was wearing a tight little black dress, a leather jacket on top of it, and incredibly tall heels. She was also wearing some pretty dramatic eye makeup and her lips had the most enticing gloss to them. Brittany's mind was reeling at the sight, as all the memories from what she'd done to herself two nights ago, while thinking about Santana, flooded her mind and collided with the current version of the girl, so dangerously clad in leather.
Santana, on the contrary, didn't notice that there was someone else in the kitchen with her. She kept angrily saying things like "No puedo creer esto" and "¿Quién carajo me manda a mi a meterme?" and there were a few emphasized "Puta madre" and "Pelotudo" repeated here and there. Brittany didn't know all of the words that were being said, but the ones she knew weren't too friendly.
The enraged girl walked to the fridge and tried to take her jacket off, but something stopped her movements and she let out a pained hiss. Brittany decided to make her presence known "Are you okay there?" Santana turned to look at Brittany and said "Yes, I'm fine," but she kept struggling with the jacket. Brittany got up, went towards Santana and placed her right hand on the other girl's shoulder. Santana stopped moving and looked Brittany in the eye. The blonde swallowed, "Here, let me help you," she said with a small smile. The brunette said nothing but she let Brittany do what she'd offered.
While she helped, Brittany noticed that in heels Santana was the same height as her and that the closeness meant that she could smell the brunette's perfume, it smelled like spices and sandalwood, and like sweet flowers. Being at eye level was completely exhilarating, and she took the time to inspect the girls long eyelashes, her perfect skin, the way her lips twitched when she finally removed her left arm from the jacket's sleeve. But she also caught an out of focus flash of red and purple, which made her switch her attention to Santana's left hand. Her thin yet strong looking hand had bloodied and bruised knuckles.
Brittany couldn't hold the question in her mind and she asked "What happened to you?" in a worried tone. Santana looked at her face and then contemplated her own hand and answered "I had to punch someone," and then she looked back at Brittany and gave her a resigned shrug. Without thinking, Brittany grabbed the other girl's hand to get a closer look and concluded "Well, no shit. Let me get you some ice." Santana tensed up when Brittany grabbed her hand, but she seemed to relax when she heard the other girl's concerned tone.
Brittany quickly grabbed some ice and put it in a dish towel. She offered it to Santana, "Here. Do you think it'll be okay? Do you need a doctor?" she asked. Santana made eye contact with her and very softly answered "No, I don't think it's broken, don't worry." Brittany eyed the girl carefully, she seemed to be okay; there were no other noticeable bruises or cuts on her. It looked like it was true that she had just punched someone.
Curiosity got the best of Brittany and even though she didn't want to seem nosy or too eager in front of the brunette, she asked, "So, why did you have to punch someone?" Santana huffed and answered in an irritated tone "There was this guy at the club that I work at. He was a total douche and he was all over a girl who was really drunk, but really drunk, like beyond all power of discernment," she said and looked at Brittany in the eye, to check if she was being understood. Brittany gave her small nod, so the dark haired girl continued talking, "At some point I saw that he was trying to get out of the club and he was taking the girl with him. She could hardly walk on her own. So I went and got in his face about it. He was sort of drunk, so he swung at me. He missed and I landed a nice punch right to his nose. After that little exchange, the bouncers came and threw him out."
Brittany was impressed with Santana, and also pretty aroused by her sheer badassery. "Wow, I bet you were like the Batman or something." Brittany commented with wide eyes. Santana chuckled and said "No, blondie, I wasn't trying to be a hero. I just defended myself." But Brittany saw right through Santana's disaffected tone and she'd heard the concern in her voice when she spoke about the drunken girl before. Santana had wanted to help. That information made the blonde feel an inexplicable sense of pride, even though she barely even knew Santana.
"Well, I'm going to bed," the brunette announced "Thanks for this" she said as she held up her injured arm wrapped in the dish towel filled with ice. Brittany went back to her tea and her alfajor, which turned out to be delicious.
That day, as soon as Quinn went down for breakfast it started raining. Nina let Cerbero in the house and the girls decided that they'd just go walk around Corrientes Avenue. It was a nice and quiet day. They sat at a café and had hot chocolate and churros with dulce de leche while they watched people walk by, shielded beneath their umbrellas. That night Santana was locked inside her room and, as usual, Brittany could hear the sound of music that filtered from the brunette's room as she drifted off to sleep.
On Friday Brittany woke up to find that Quinn had a cold, and it was still raining. Their plans for the day were officially cancelled. She got up, went to buy some Ibuprofen and soup for her friend, and after that, she just sat in the kitchen and played a game on her phone. By lunch time she was so bored that she'd actually managed to cook herself some food that was edible.
Brittany had been in the kitchen practicing what steps she remembered from the tango dancers she'd seen at La Boca, when Santana walked in. The brunette looked way more casual than the last time Brittany had seen her, she was wearing loose ripped jeans and a band t-shirt and her hair was down. "Oh, you're here?" she said, surprised. "Yeah, Quinn is sick and it's raining, so…" Brittany trailed off, so Santana interjected "So you were tangoing alone in the kitchen? You must be so bored." The blonde shrugged, Santana continued "Well, I'm going to take Bero out for a walk now that it's not raining, if you want to come with us…" Brittany smiled and immediately accepted the offer.
Brittany hastily went upstairs, checked on Quinn, who was sleeping, grabbed a colorful sweater from her room and rushed downstairs. Santana had thrown on her leather jacket and had put a very eager Cerbero in a leash. Brittany smiled at the other girl as they stepped out of the apartment.
Once they were outside, and they'd started walking towards a nearby park, Brittany realized that they'd been mostly silent, and that she needed to talk to the girl and get to know her, but she struggled to come up with that very first question to break the silence and get a conversation started. Soon enough, they were at the park.
They stood in the middle of a large grassy part. Santana looked around and the dog had just patiently sat down at her feet, and was panting steadily, his huge tongue hanging out of his mouth. Brittany was confused "So, you don't let him off his leash?" she asked. Santana very seriously answered "I need to make sure that he can be let out first. He's on probation." Brittany frowned and replied "I can't imagine that he started a fight with another dog, he's so chill." Santana looked at Brittany in the eye "He's not on probation for fighting. Last week he tried to get with an old lady's poodle. The woman was horrified." she explained. Brittany started laughing at the image of the huge dog coupled with a poodle. "Seriously, it was the most embarrassing thing ever. That dog has no standards, I swear." Santana said with a scowl.
Brittany was chuckling at Santana's mortified tone, she looked at the girl and said "I think that the coast is clear, you can let him off now." "Why are you on his side?" Santana asked with a teasing smile "I'll tell you what, if he chases another dog down, you're the one who's breaking them apart," she finished. Brittany looked Santana in the eye "Deal. And I'm not on anyone's side. It's just… He's a lover, not a fighter, I can relate to that." she said jokingly. Santana maintained their eye contact almost challengingly. Brittany had found her in. She bent down and unhooked the dog's leash from his collar never breaking eye contact.
Cerbero had just run around in circles and they'd found a bench, sat down and watched him silently at first. But Brittany was on a mission to get to know the other girl. "How is your hand doing?" she asked. "Well, it looks disgusting, but it doesn't hurt much," the brunette answered. Brittany let out a puff of air and said "You are lucky, injuries are the worst." Santana smiled and looked her in the eye when she replied "Yes, I imagine that they must be, for a dancer."
"How did you know I'm a dancer?" Brittany asked. Santana smiled even wider "Every time that I see you, you're dancing and your body… is definitely a dancer's body," she told the other girl, who couldn't help but blush. Brittany recovered quickly, though and asked, "So what is it that you do, apart from saving drunken girls in clubs?" Santana shook her head and said "I didn't save her. I'm just a bartender."
Brittany remembered that Nina had complained that Santana had dropped out of college, and felt the urge to ask about that. Santana seemed a bit taken aback when Brittany asked her that question, but quickly recovered and said "Well, leave it to my grandmother to tell everyone how much of a disappointment I am." Brittany opened her mouth to excuse herself but Santana cut her off "Don't worry about it. I dropped out because California wasn't for me," she said.
Brittany was confused, "Wait, didn't you say you were from Queens?" she asked. "Yes, I was born and raised in Queens, but then I wanted to get very far away from home, so I went to school in California," the brunette explained. After that, Santana seemed to open up and to show interest in knowing about Brittany too.
Santana told Brittany about her father, who was a doctor; about her paternal grandmother, who was Puerto Rican and mainly a devoted catholic; about how they had raised her. Brittany learned that Santana hadn't met Nina until she was twelve years old, and a whole other side of her world and her heritage had opened up to her. Brittany noticed that Santana didn't speak about her mother. She did speak about her uncle Juan, and told Brittany that if she wanted to learn how to tango, he was the guy to go to. Brittany of course accepted enthusiastically, and they made plans to go see him sometime soon.
Brittany told Santana about her parents and sister, about her school and her friendship with Quinn. She told her the story of how her arm injury landed her a ticket to Argentina. It was very easy to talk to Santana. Brittany didn't feel judged or dismissed. She liked the way that the brunette never interrupted her, the way that she read her cues, the way that she laughed in the right places of a story. Brittany was sure that there was something really valuable in that.
They must have stayed at the park for more than an hour, just talking. But it had started to drizzle and it was getting windy, so Santana got up and shouted for the dog to come back to them. Cerbero did, quickly and happily. Brittany felt almost sad to head back home, because it meant that her time with Santana would be over.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Santana's voice "Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm cold and I could really go for a coffee right now," she said and she offered her hand to Brittany, to help her stand up, "Come on, I'll show you a little place that is so much better than Starbucks."
Buen día: Good day/Good morning
Ya voy a llegar tarde. Hasta luego, Brittany: I'm already going to be late. See you later, Brittany
No puedo creer esto: I can't believe this
¿Quién carajo me manda a mi a meterme?: Why the fuck did i even get involved?
Puta madre: Fuck
Pelotudo: Asshole
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Hey guys, thank you for the reviews, though i'm shy with the replies, they make my heart sing entire operas. Leave me some more?
To the Argentinian who suggested they go to Tigre, i want to say that's a great idea and thanks, it shall be included in their itinerary.
Lastly, if you are ever in Argentina, eat an alfajor and a churro relleno con dulce de leche. You will not regret it.