So a couple of hours ago I got an email notification saying I had a new story follower. Guys, I am so so sorry for taking so long on this. When I saw that email I felt so guilty! I was like "Lo, you owe it to the readers to get over your writers block and get on with the story!" I totally know how it feels to anxiously await an update from a story you fav/follow. I'm an ass! You guys are the reason I write these stories to begin with. So I sat my ass down and started writing. It was forced at first, but then I totally got back in the flow and ended up writing an extra 3,000 words. Anyways, hope this kinda? makes up for the long wait.
I don't own glee.
Santana sat in front of her bathroom mirror deciding on how she should do her makeup. She didn't even know why she was thinking so hard about it. It was just dinner, at her house.
Maybe I should just wear no makeup and sweatpants, then maybe he won't want to marry my lazy ass.
...
Ugh, that won't work. I'd look smoking hot in a garbage bag.
Thirty minutes later Santana was in her closet looking herself over in her full-length mirror. She looked good. She had decided, or more so her vanity had decided, on a semi-form fitting short long sleeve black dress. It was casual but sexy. It was innocent enough to not make her father cringe, but hot enough to catch a man.
Is that what you're doing know? Trying to 'catch a man'? What is wrong with you?! This is insane! You're Santana Fucking Lopez no one tells you wh-
"Santana, get down here! Our guests just pulled up to the gate!" Her mother's voice boomed out from the intercom in her room.
She quickly slipped her black heels on ran to the intercom. "Coming Mami!"
Santana had to shake her head at herself for her actions. Sure no one tells you what to do….
"Shut up." She said aloud to herself has she made her way down the grand staircase.
"Santana, mija, best behavior tonight." Antonio said to his daughter when she reached his side by the front door.
"Yeah, act your age!" Maribel said and smirked when she received a glare in return.
"You know Mami, I thought you were supposed to be on my side…" Santana mumbled with an annoyed look on her face.
Just then there was a knock on the door. While Antonio went to open the door Maribel elbowed her daughter in the side, "Be nice, and smile." Maribel said through her own 'to big to be natural' smile plastered on her face.
"Jim, Brett! Welcome! Come in, come in!" Santana heard her father voice boom from the entryway. That was the two Lopez women's cue.
The women's heels clicked against the polished marble floor as they made their way over to greet their guests.
Both Pierce men were wearing khakis with button down shirts. Santana immediately noticed how Brett's baby blue shirt made his eyes standout even more then they had earlier in the day during their brief, and extremely uncomfortable introduction. She also noticed the beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers he was holding.
As Jim was greeting Maribel, Brett and Santana made eye contact. Santana wanted to badly to just run to the nearest psychiatrist and have her parents committed, but she had trouble thinking when she was looking into such gorgeous eyes.
They were both to caught up in each other to notice the older people in the room had gone quiet and were watching them with curious eyes.
Brett was the first one to break the silence between the two.
He cleared his throat before saying, "Hi."
Santana felt bashful all of the sudden.
Ah, what the hell! Her conscious screamed in her head. Prompting her into action. Her parents wanted her to place nice, so she'd play nice.
"Hello…" Santana said before taking a step closer to the blonde man. "Are those for me?" Santana asked with what she hoped was a sexy little smile. Oh, she's play nice alright.
"No." Brett said without missing a beat.
Santana's face immediately fell.
Brick. Santana thought as she watched Brett turn towards her mother.
"These are for the hostess." Brett said with a charming smile on his face. "Thank you for inviting us to your home. It really is lovely."
Maribel swooned. Santana scoffed.
"Well thank you so much Brett. That is very kind of you!" Maribel said as she took the bouquet from Brett, but not before he reached in and grabbed the most unique flower Santana had ever seen.
"This is for you." He said with the same charming smile on his face, but with a quieter tone, he handed Santana a red and white rose. It was Santana's turn to swoon.
"T-Thanks." Santana stuttered, causing Maribel to cover her giggles up with a very unrealistic cough.
"Are you alright Mrs. Lopez?" Brett asked taking his eyes of Santana to look at Maribel with a concerned look.
"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine dear! Perfectly fine! Wonderful actually! Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to put these lovely flowers in a vase." Maribel said throwing a wink her daughters way as she turned to walk towards the kitchen. Santana just rolled her eyes.
"Well, what do you say we head out to the deck? The food should be done shortly." Antonio said with a clap of his hands. As he patted Jim on the back as he lead him through the house.
Santana and Brett trailed behind, both looking everywhere but each other. Usually Santana loved to make awkward moments for those around her, something about seeing people uncomfortable was extremely satisfying, but when it came to her being on the receiving end of the awkwardness, she hated it.
Santana looked down at the rose in her hand and found an out. "Uh, Papi?" Santana said getting the attention of her father in front of her.
"Yes, mija?" Antonio asked without even turning around.
"I'm gonna go put the flower in some water…"
"Okay, but don't dillydally." Antonio said throwing a warning glance over his shoulder.
Damn, he knows me too well! Santana thought. "Yeah, sure… Uh, excuse me." She said as she turned to her left and nearly collided with Brett's solid chest.
"Yeah, sorry. My bad." Brett said.
Just when Santana thought it couldn't get anymore awkward, the 'Awkward shuffle' happened. You know where one person moves one way to get out of someone else's way, but said person ends up going the same way, effectively blocking the passing person further. Yeah. Awkward.
"Sorry." Brett mumbled as he finally got out of Santana's way.
Santana just ducked her head down as she moved past him and towards the stairs to her bedroom.
Once in her room, she found haphazardly threw the rose onto her desk before sitting down on her bed with a huff.
Get your shit together, Lopez. You are a grown ass woman. Stop stuttering. Santana Lopez doesn't stutter. She makes bitches stutter!
With a deep breathe in and an obnoxious exhale Santana pushed herself up and off her bed and started back downstairs, but not before stopping to do a once over in a hallway mirror.
As she stepped of the last stair of the back of the houses stairwell she heard whispered voices coming from the kitchen. She was planning on ignoring it and just heading outside, but curiosity always seemed to get the best of Santana Lopez.
She took her Louboutin's off and silently walked to the kitchen entryway, peeking her head around the corner.
She was extremely confused by what she saw.
There was her Abuela, standing by the kitchen island with her back turned towards Santana, and standing in front of her pulling something out of his pocket.
.Hell.
"Abuela, I brought you something. I remember you telling me about it the last time we saw each other." Brett whispered.
"Last time we saw each other" What the hell is this? How many times have they meet for Christs sake?
Brett pulled a small silver case out of his pocket and handed it to her Abuela. She couldn't see what it was, but judging by Abuela's reaction it was something awesome.
The elder Lopez threw her arms around the mans midsection and hugged him tightly, earning her a smile and an equally tight embrace back.
"Oh, dear boy you are a saint!" Abuela laughed as she let the boy go and patted his cheeks.
"My son and daughter-in-law won't let me have them anymore, say it's bad for me. You know what I say? I say, let me live!" Abuela said.
"Amen to that Abuela!" Brett said as he stuck out his fist.
Abuela tapped her fist against his.
My grandmother did not just 'pound it'. What is this life anymore?
"You'll have one with me later?" Abuela asked.
Brett's nose scrunched up a little bit in what Santana could only imagine was of disgust. Santana thought it was adorable.
Stop it.
"No, not me. I'm not a big fan of them myself. I always end up inhaling the smoke…" Brett said apologetically.
"More for me than!" Abuela said cheerfully.
Just then the oven timer started going off, frightening Santana. She let out a little squeak before quickly straightening up and putting her heels back on.
Both of the people in the kitchen heard her and were wearing matching guilty expressions when Santana walked in rather loudly, trying to seem as if she had not just been eavesdropping.
They bought it.
"Uh, Santana, the food is done. Help Brett carry out the dishes?" Her grandmother asked sweetly, to sweetly if you asked Santana.
As she made her way over to grab the salad she eyed up her grandmother and Brett who both seemed to find the enchiladas very interesting all of the sudden.
Freaks. Santana thought as she made her way to the outside dining area.
Dinner was delicious as always. Abuela always made the best dishes. It was a prefect excuse for Santana not to converse with the people at the table with her. She felt like the entire table was against her, praying that any moment Ashton Kutcher would pop out and announce that she had been Punk'd.
No such luck.
The conversation flowed easy between all the older people at the table. They talked about recent business ventures and travels. Brett and Santana both sat there playing with their food, every once in a while glancing at one another from across the table.
At one point Santana diverted her eyes from looking at Brett and made eye contact with her mother, who only smirked in return.
Smug witch.
Santana was proud of herself that she had made it through dinner and dessert without incident. That was about to be tested.
"Santana, mija, why don't you show Brett down to the beach. I can't imagine Tennessee has many of those!" Maribel said with an amused twinkle in her eye. The woman knew exactly what she was doing.
She just had to open her big mouth. Santana said as she forced down the urge to tell her mother where she could shove the beach.
"Oh, no, that's fine Mrs. Lopez-" Brett started, clearly not wanting to be a bother.
Santana cut him off, "Sure. No Problem. Come on Brett." Santana said with a forced smile.
Two can play this game. Mami wants to see me break. Fat fucking chance. Santana Lopez will not loose.
Santana walked towards the gate that led to the stairs down the beach with Brett following behind her. She's pretty sure she could hear her parents giggling, obviously about her discomfort, but she refused to turn around and give them the satisfaction.
Santana took of her heels when they reached the sand and Brett quickly followed, rolling up the bottom of his pants as well.
"Uhm, yeah, so this is our beach." Santana said, not really knowing what to say.
"Cool." Brett said back.
Awkward.
Both stood there for a good five minutes just staring out at the ocean. The sun was setting, and even Santana had to admit it was really beautiful.
She was broken out of her gaze when she heard Brett speak.
"Please don't tell." Brett said.
Santana was confused for a moment until she looked at his face. Guilt written all over it.
Santana giggled, actually fucking giggled at him.
"I won't… If you tell me how you and my grandmother came to be partners in crime." Santana said with a small smile.
Brett immediately perked up and smiled back at her chuckling a bit.
Santana wasn't ready for the warmth that suddenly rushed through her. He had such an amazing smile and his laugh made her smile grow wider. It really was a great laugh.
"Well, I meet Abuela in New York a few months ago.."
"Wait, hold up! I don't even remember her going to New York." Santana said puzzled. Trying extremely hard to recall if her grandmother had mentioned leaving the state.
"Yeah. She came into the city with your dad for a weekend. I was visiting my dad at the time. We had lunch one afternoon. She mentioned your parents wouldn't let her smoke cigars anymore. I hope you're not mad. I just couldn't resist, she's such a sweet old lady." Brett said.
They've been scheming for months now. Abuela, that traitor!
"I'm not mad. She's a grown woman, she wants a cigar, who am I to tell her she can't have one… yeah, I know. It is hard to resist her." Santana smiled fondly. She was supposed to be upset with the old woman for butting into her life, but it's hard to be mad with the cute old Hispanic woman.
Santana started walking down the beach, and when she noticed Brett wasn't following her she rolled her eyes and motioned with her hand for him to catch p with her.
What she didn't know was four sets of eyes were watching the scene unfold from their seats at the table.
Maribel smiled warmly at her husband while Alma clinked her wine glass with Jim's.
"Well, children, I think this just might work out!" Alma said happily as she watched her only granddaughter walking on the beach with a handsome gentleman at sunset.
Back down on the beach Santana and Brett were walking side by side in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence however. It was comfortable. And Santana's big mouth had to ruin it.
"Why are you doing this?" Santana asked with her head focused on the beach in front of her.
Brett turned to admire her profile as he spoke, "Because a beautiful woman asked me to walk on the beach with her. Can't say no to that."
Swoon.
Santana turned to smirk at him, but she could only muster a bashful smile as she noticed he didn't look smug. He answered the question in all honesty.
"I mean, why do you want to marry me?" Santana asked stopping and sitting down in the sand.
This dress needs to be dry cleaned anyways.
Brett didn't follow her this time. He just looked out at the ocean with his eyebrows knitted together. Santana watched as his face suddenly looked relieved, as if he had found the answer to her question.
"Pride." Brett said as he finally looked down at her, and then looked back to the waves. "If I married you it would make my dad proud. He's done so much for me, and I want to make him proud. I'm not the smartest guy, and I think that is hard for my dad to accept. He loves me, but I can tell that he would rather me be a publisher like himself rather than a trainer. He wanted me to go to Columbia like he did, but I couldn't get in, even with him being alumni. I couldn't get into any Ivy League. I only got into Vanderbilt because they were trying to fill their last wrestling scholarship. It made my dad proud. When I graduated, it made my dad proud. It feels good having people be proud of you, you know?" Brett said, looking down at Santana once more.
She didn't know what to say, so she just nodded her head.
"I want him to be proud. But it's just not about him you know." Santana didn't know, but she nodded anyways.
"I want to be proud as well." Santana was staring up into those gorgeous baby blues as he spoke with the most honesty she had ever heard out of anyone.
"I would be proud to be married to you."
Santana wanted to scoff at that, but instead she said "You don't even know me." ,In a quiet voice.
"I know enough. I know you love your family dearly, or else you wouldn't even be talking to me right now. And I know you want to be proud of yourself. That's really all I need to know." Brett said as he finally sat down next to her.
Santana didn't know what to say. She literally had no words.
Here she was sitting on the beach at sunset with a man she had just met today, and this man had all the confidence in the world about her, confidence that she didn't even hold for herself.
"I think I could make you proud of me, too. I want to make something of myself, something that you would be proud of. I don't plan on stretching and icing people my whole life." Brett said with a sad look on his face.
Santana frowned as she looked at him.
No, don't be sad! Say something, Santana!
"You shouldn't be ashamed of what you do, if you love what you do?" Santana said, hoping to comfort him a little.
"I don't love it. I mean it's a job, and I'm good at it. But its not something I want to be doing the rest of my life." Brett said.
"What do you love, Brett?" Santana asked hesitantly. She was starting to like this guy, and prayed he wasn't a huge weirdo.
"I love entertaining people. When I was a kid I loved to dance, still do. That's actually how I got started in wrestling. Kids would pick on me and I refused to fight back. So my dad got me into wrestling. He said because it was an organized sport that it wouldn't be violent…" Brett laughed at himself. "At the time I went along with it, but a choke hold is a choke hold in any environment. But I was good at it. Then when I got into high school I got bigger than the bully's. Being six foot one varsity wrestler as a freshman scares people I guess. People didn't bully me anymore. So that was a plus. I could dance and not get beat up for it. But wrestling took up a lot of my time. But yeah, I love to make people feel something when they watch me."
If any other man would have told Santana that she would've called them gay and given them Lady Hummel's number, but with Brett it only made him more appealing.
"That's really great. I have no clue what I want, or what I can even do. I mean, I've excelled at being an heiress for a while now." Santana said with sarcasm.
"Well, lucky for you, you're young. You have time to figure it out. You'll be proud of yourself, whatever you choose to do, Santana." Santana absolutely believed him. She had actually never believed anything more.
After a few moments Brett stood up and held his hand out for Santana to take. There that warmth was again, as her palm met his.
"Thanks." Santana said with a small smile.
"It's getting dark, and I've heard stories of Poseidon so we should probably head back." Brett said looking around him at the quickly darkening scenery.
What?
"Uh, like the Greek god Poseidon?" Santana asked quizzically.
"Yeah." Brett said as he wiped sand off of his pants.
"Oh, okay." Santana responded. Not really sure what to say back to that.
As the two made their way back into the house they were greeted with the site of Jim, Antonio and Alma mid tequila shot.
Brett and Santana looked at each other and started laughing. This caught the attention of the 'adults' in the room.
"Your father broke out the good stuff." Maribel said from her spot on the couch. Maribel hasn't touched tequila since that time a few years back when she vomited down the front of Julia Roberts. It took Antonio months worth of begging to get her to not switch agencies after that fiasco.
"Care for a shot?" Jim asked his son, more like lightly slurred.
"Uh, no thanks dad. I actually think we should be heading back to the hotel. It's getting late." Brett said to his father.
"I guess you're right." Jim said with a pout. A grown man pouting. Santana snickered when she noticed a matching pout on Antonio's face. Talk about a budding bromance.
Thank yous and compliments were exchanged as the Lopez's said goodbye to the Pierces.
When it was Santana's turn to say goodbye to Brett it wasn't awkward at all.
Okay, maybe it was a little awkward because she could literally smell the smugness coming of her mother. She gave him a quick hug, and had to catch herself from almost whimpering aloud when they broke apart.
"See you around, Santana." Brett said with a smile as he walked through the front door.
She didn't say anything back, just smiled at him as she closed the door. She stood there for a second before her mothers obnoxious laugh broke her out of her daze.
"I'm going to my room, mother." Santana said pointedly at Maribel.
Santana went up stairs and went through her nightly routine. Removing makeup, showering, blow drying her hair, etc.
As she was going to turn her desk light off she noticed the rose Brett had given her. She smiled to herself as she grabbed it and placed it in a tall crystal cup on her bedside table.
She stood in front of it for a long time.
Santana didn't know how long she had been standing there for, but suddenly she felt the urge to go find her grandmother.
She went downstairs and checked all the rooms on the bottom floor of the massive house. She couldn't find Alma anywhere so she made her way up to the top level of the house where her grandmother's bedroom was. Knocking, and not receiving an answer on Alma's bedroom door she quickly entered and closed the door behind her.
Alma wasn't in the room or en suite bathroom, but she noticed the curtains swaying in the breeze.
Bingo!
Santana made her way towards the balcony, and smelt her grandmother before she saw her.
Santana walked out on the balcony casually and had to garner up every ounce of self-control to not laugh at her grandmother.
There Alma was in her bathrobe, smoking a Cuban cigar. The look on her face was priceless. She had been caught, no doubt about it.
"Uh, hola Santana.." Alma said lowering the cigar to the ash tray.
"Abuela, I want you to give me Brett phone number." Santana said firmly.
Alma cocked an eyebrow up at that. "Oh, and what makes you think I have his number?"
Santana was in a poison of power in this scenerio, and didn't want to waste it. Crossing her arms and cocking a hip out, in a very Santana-like manner, she said "Cut the crap. I know you two are buddies. Just give me his number, por favor."
Alma was a bit taken aback, but realized she had no play. "Si, it is true. Let me get my pocket book." Alma said dejectedly.
Alma wondered into her room and found Brett's number and as she walked back out Santana was standing smoking her cigar. HER CIGAR!
"Here, you thief, now leave me in peace." Alma said making a show of taking the cigar out of Santana's mouth.
Santana took the post-it from Alma's hand and walked past her towards the door, but not before stopping and turning to face Alma once more.
"Oh, and Abuela, don't tell my mother you gave me this." Santana said.
"Oh and why not?" Alma asked back with a smirk.
"Because if you do, I'll rat you and your stogie stash out." Santana said as turned once more to leave the room.
She knew her secret would be safe as she heard Alma dejectedly say, "these are Cubans. Cubanos..".
Santana grabbed her phone from her desk and got into bed.
She laid staring at the text she had written for what seemed like forever before finally pushing the send button.
L.A. has the best dance scene-Santana
Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think! I don't have an outline for my stories, because I never end up following them, so if you guys want to see a prompt/ship or something seriously, let me know! Your wish is my command! Feeling really good about this story, and you're guys continued support keeps me going! You guys really are the bees knees(Yeah, I said it!)