Disclaimer: don't own Glee, I'm just taking two cheerleaders for a nice trip.

"This party sucks"

"Well, it's not really our fault, I mean, okay, none of our friends made it, but... It's not a lame party, just a different kind of party."

You understood what he was saying. Being at a party where you don't know anyone meant "you can be anyone as well". And that idea, at that moment, seemed to satisfy you more than anything. Yea, you could make it. Even if just for one night, maybe, at some point, you'd figure all of your shit out. If you could make it. Just for tonight.

"I need to get drunk"

"Thought you were getting there already"

Point taken. Your glass is full, actually. You take a sip. Another. You say screw it and soon as you know the next five glasses are empty and you look slightly dizzy.

You'd say dizzy enough.

It's time to walk around, looking at everybody and nobody at the same time. People are dancing and talking in small groups, which seems a pretty obvious choice when you attend to a party where you know people. They look at you like you're lost and drunk enough to let everybody notice, but you're not here to give any fucks. Not today. You walk around the pool, knowing that its emptiness only means that people are not drunk enough to stop caring about the cold. You can't really tell if it's a good sigh.

You decide that you need another drink. You get to the bar and ask for a shot. The guy behind the counter is as drunk as you and he just laughs, saying that the bottle of tequila is out there and you should look for a guy named Jeff. That name will be forgotten soon enough, so you settle with vodka anyway.

"Will you ever leave the bar?" You ask him, suddenly smirking. He smirks back and put his phone out of his pocket, giving a look at the time, you suppose.

"20 minutes or so", he replies, touching your shoulder just for a second. You let him, but you don't really know why. Wasn't this night about something else? You look around and see Sam glaring at you. The guy takes his hand off you and hands your drink. You just leave without saying another word.

When you decide you're drunk enough to dance alone, Sam is already at the dance floor, at the corner, moving effortless with the beat. You do the same and let loose, admitting for the first time in ages that you're having a real good time.

Of course, you don't know anybody here and there's nothing you couldn't do, because there won't be news about it tomorrow. The thought is so seductive that makes you smile. For the first time, they're the ones who don't know who you are, and you do (well, kinda). It seems right in a way it's not really supposed to be.

"Hey," a hand touches your back. It's the guy from the bar. "I just left", he says, with a goofy smile. You smile back and your stomach turns awkwardly. This is not how things were supposed to turn out tonight.

Sam is still dancing, but now there's a girl next to him and he's dancing like a 40-year-old stripper. The laugh gets stuck in your throat because the guy is still talking to you and you're trying hard to pretend you're listening. Only when he grabs your wrist and starts moving, you seem to understand what's really going on.

You wish you didn't.

"Here", he puts you against a wall in what appears to be the garage, but smaller. You try to make yourself comfortable, but everything seems so wrong and you don't know if you're sick because you're drunk or because he's kissing your neck eagerly.

You don't say anything when his hand touches your boob lightly at first, then with purpose.

"What's your name?" He breathes against your ear, and it doesn't make you shiver at all. Like you knew it wouldn't. His hand that's not on your boob moves and cups your ass. You stay like that, against the wall, with your arms loosely around his shoulders.

"Santana", you say, your voice shaking, trying to decide while he grabs the hem of your shirt just to slide his hand inside it. It seems dumb to not move your hands, so you use one to grab his neck and push him towards you to a kiss. It's sloppy and you regret almost immediately, because he shoves him tongue against your teeth in a hurry you don't get. So you stop.

"I'm Dave", he says, guessing that was the reason you stopped. You nod slowly, getting sicker every second. But you know how boys work. You remember your High School well enough to say that they won't let you leave them high and dry.

You want to leave so badly.

The decision is made as you grab his ass with both hands and your hips met. He makes a weird sound and you already know this is it. You reach for his pants and underwear, and they're both down without any resistance.

Pathetic.

You don't even look before you start stroking it slowly with one hand (you think you're sick enough). His mouth opens a little and you do think you're going to throw up before his orgasm. You increase the rhythm, asking yourself how you got yourself in this, and why you did this if this night was about being someone else.

You don't even notice his hands wondering down to your pants.

He looks at you with a question behind his eyes, and you look back for a second before looking away, and for some reason you'll never, ever understand, he takes it as a yes and pull your pants down.

Wait.

"You're so hot", he says, his voice weird and breathless as you continue your stroking thing. He cups your now bare ass again, with both hands, and your hips meet again. He reaches your hand and moves it away. "I wanna touch you".

Again: wait.

You don't say a thing because, really, there's nothing to say. You see the sweat on his forehead and close your eyes because now you feel a finger rubbing you down there, searching. "Can I..."

He's not waiting for an answer. You know that when he pins you further against the wall and you feel your hips touching further as he gets inside. His breathing is heavy, so is yours, for very different reasons. He thrusts once, twice, until he's panting. Then he takes a while. "We should stop. I don't have a condom."

God, you're so thankful.

He looks frustrated, and you can't tell if the condom thing is really the reason of it. You look at him and he seems to understand why you are looking, and take few steps back, enough for you to put yourself together.

"Maybe later, we..."

"Yea", you lie with a weak smile, and let him walk you back to the party.

You see Sam when you walk back to the party, near the bar, talking to a few people. Facing him is the last thing you want to do now, but judging by the way he's looking at you, you never had a choice. So you grab a drink, and make sure it's a strong one. He meets you halfway back.

"Where were you?" You don't think he wants to know the answer. You just shrug, avoiding his eyes.

He whispers something that sounds like "damn, Santana", but you can't figure.

You don't realize there's someone talking to you until she pokes you lightly, shaking her hand in front of your eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, giggling. It's the girl who was dancing with Sam before.

Shrug. "Yea, totally. I'm not even drunk, what's with the vodka in this place?"

"I know! I mean, I had some tequila just a few minutes ago, but even so, my body is fighting pretty hard to stay sober."

"Resistance is useless" Sam half shouts, with an impression voice. She laughs next to you and you do, too, just because her laugh is such a nice sound.

"True", she states, turning back to you with a smile.

"So, I don't know who you are", you try to look offended, frowning playfully.

"Brittany", the smile never leaves her face. You watch as she plays with the white suspenders she's using, sliding her hands up and down, distracted. "Brittany S. Pierce".

"Santana Lopez", you shake hands and you think it's funny, because, really, who does that?

"You live here? I mean, you go to college here?"

"Yea, me and Sam here", you look for him to punch him shoulder as a joke, but he's nowhere to be seen. Damn, Trouty. "I'm in Med School at Berkeley, so..."

She seems genuinely surprised. "Med School? Nice. I'm a Dance Major, at Berkeley, too".

You can tell she is a dancer just by the way she stands. She moves her hands while she speaks in a fluid way that can't be mistaken.

"I don't see you around much", she continues the small talk, still looking at you searching for something.

You don't know what she's looking for.

"Yea, hm, I..." She's making you stutter and you don't really know if it's because you're drunk, because you're naturally shy and can't deal with people much, or something else. "I don't go out much, you know"

"C'mon, Santana, she'll think you're boring", Sam cuts in and you can't hate him more now. As if you're not feeling awkward enough for both of you. "Which she is, by the way".

Brittany just laughs lightly and pushes Sam playfully. You can't figure why she is so comfortable with the whole conversation thing and you're like, sweating your ass off to put two or three words together. She seems to notice you fidgeting, because she's looking at you, looking at Sam and frowning. You want to say there's nothing between you two, just because it's true and nothing else, but you're paralyzed for some reason.

"I hafta pee", she deadpans, like it's obvious. Sam mutters ok and she passes right by you whispering a 'be right back' and giving you a peck right on the lips.

You gasp. Like, twice. And you look around; your thoughts are grabbing your feelings by the balls and making everything spin. You feel dizzy and you want to askwhat just happened but you're so afraid it's impossible to speak.

But Sam is right there and he seems to know the right stuff to say.

"Hey. Hey, Santana", he grabs your shoulders with both hands and look straight in your eyes. "It's okay. Don't freak out. Hey. Look at me." You don't, you're terrified. You look everywhere, except at him. He just shrugs. "Nobody knows you here, remember? It's fine. It is. Don't... Oh boy. Don't cry. Please. Breathe. She doesn't even kn..."

"I'm fine", you manage to say. "I just need another drink, so I can..."

"Yea", he says, quickly, moving to the bar and grabbing your wrist like he thinks you're going to run or pass out. The second is more like it.

Brittany is back and you don't realize it until you see Sam whispering something in her ear and you can't say if you're curious about it. Maybe he's explaining things to her, and the thought alone makes you shiver with fear. You want him away from her now. Because... because... You can explain stuff. Right?

"Would you... hm, God, this is hard" she's also stuttering and that makes you a little better. "Come with me, yes? I mean, please. If you want to. I mean..."

Your mind is a battlefield. You can hear gunshots and screams and everything is spinning in a way that has nothing to do with the drinks you had. Brittany is not looking at you, but at your shoes, apparently. She's playing with her suspenders again, but in a nervous way. You glance at Sam, and he's so tense he may turn into stone in a few minutes. He wants you to be okay. And you want to be okay, too.

You know what's going to happen. And how long you're expecting it to happen. It's like a final test, a challenge. Because you have to know, right? You can't just go with the flow and think you're like everybody else. There were signs and you... You don't know what your head is doing now, but you never thought about those things as signs until you're facing it openly, like now.

At some point you realize the drink in your hands. And people around you. Brittany is waiting for you to answer her. She looks confused. You look around just one last time, your eyes at Sam again. "Whoever you want to be", you don't know if he said it or your mind is playing with you, but you can hear it loud and clear.

Just like your answer.

"Yes."

You walk back to the same place you were with Dave, and you don't like the idea. It looks dirty, and you don't want things to go like that with Brittany. God, you're already thinking about how you want things to go with her. You're thinking about things. Going. With her.

It's too much. You stop walking.

"Is something wrong, Santana?" You like the way she speaks. She cares about you in a way she shouldn't. You don't know each other. Yet, she waits. She doesn't want to force things through. She wants you to meet her halfway.

And you think you want that, too.

"No, it's okay", you manage to smile, assuring her. "But… Can we go somewhere else?"

She doesn't even blink. "Of course".

You find yourself in the back of the house, near the pool.

"Don't worry; they gave me the key and I locked the pool access. Said it was to prevent any kind of accident with drunk people and stuff. Really clever."

She read your mind and answered the question you didn't have guts to make. You don't think you have guts to do anything now. She sits by the pool and makes a gesture for you to sit by her side. You do.

You kind of expect her to jump at you, but she doesn't. She just swings her feet on the water surface. Neither of you speak for a long time, but it's a comfortable silence. You feel like you're getting to know her just by the things she's not saying or doing. It's new. And you like it.

You turn to look at her, your knees brushing slightly. "I'm sorry".

She holds your gaze, but her expression is really soft. "What? Why? No, don't be."

Don't cry in front of her, don't cry in front of her, don't… Oh, well, shit.

"I just… Damn, Brittany, I'm r-really s-sorry. You thought I… We-"

Brittany just smiles. You can't tell if it's a sad smile, but it makes you feel guilty and the urge of just hug her or hold her hand makes your legs shake a bit. You can't look at her again, so you don't. She doesn't come any closer, but you hear the sound of her feet moving against the water. Slowly and patiently.

You caught yourself thinking that just maybe you got damn lucky for finding her. It kills you that you're making her sad because of your insecurities.

Now you're just sitting next to her and sobbing in silence (you don't know if you're drunk or confused, that's the hardest part). Brittany is not looking at you and youdon't think she'll speak something so soon. It's kinda frustrating, but you're grateful. You were waiting for an outburst.

"Are you crying?" She asks, and you feel her hand touching yours for a moment. It's soft and delicate and makes you feel safe, like she's got you. Suddenly she realizes what she's doing and let go of your hand. There's an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry", she says in a small voice. Like she's overstepping.

She's not.

You grab her hand and put it back in place. You smile at your own boldness. Brittany seems surprised, but remains in silence. Her touch is warm and familiar.

"What did Sam told you?" You can't not to ask. It's killing you that she may be with you now just because she feels guilty for kissing you (sort of) or for another reason involving pity.

She sighs. "He said you panicked when I kissed you before, and that I should take it easy, because he didn't want you to freak out over this".

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing. It's not his place to tell." You think it's the truest thing you've ever heard tonight. "I should be sorry for kissing you, but I'm not", she smiles. "I don't intend to surprise you again, though. Can I ask you a question?"

She can ask all the questions, for all that you care. You nod.

"Why are you here tonight?"

It's a fair question and you don't know how to answer. So you don't. You look at her, and your hands, at her again, then at the pool, speechless. You shrug and release your breath.

"I don't think you need help with figuring stuff out, Santana." You know she's right. "I do think you're afraid because you already have. It's like… When someone asks you a question they already know the answer, so you can't lie and you know they won't like when you tell them what they know. Does it even make sense?"

You smile because it doesn't, but you get it anyway.

"You are a very smart person, Pierce", you tease, turning around to face her. She smiles at you like it's a big surprise you said that.

"Wish I could say I hear that all the time", she says, but there's no hint of sadness in her voice. "But thank you." She releases your hand again and gets up. "We should get back".

Why does it feel like someone popped your bubble?

"Brittany…"

"You can tell Sam you think I'm an awesome kisser and that we had a really good time." She smirks you can feel yourself blushing.

At one moment she's unlocking the door. In the next, your hand is against it. "Don't go", it's almost a whisper, because you're not feeling so brave anymore. "Not yet."

Brittany looks confused. Your fingers are grabbing her wrist maybe a little tighter than you should, but she doesn't move. She waits.

"You don't have to-", your hand skates until you grab hers and she stops talking. She's sure you have no idea of what you're doing, but she's not rushing anything and you're glad. The hand that's not grabbing hers is cupping her cheek; the skin is soft and warm. Brittany's eyes are closing and you don't know if there's anything else you want – need – to do now.

Kissing her is by far the boldest thing you've ever done. Brittany doesn't move for a while and you think that maybe you're doing something wrong, but then you bite her lower lip gently and suddenly she's on fire, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, spinning you around so your back are against the door, instead of hers. To say your legs are shaking is an understatement. Brittany seems to sense it and keeps you as steady as she can, her lips moving slowly against yours after her little explosion, her other hand never leaving yours. You don't think that's nearly enough, but again, you don't really know what you're doing. Right now, you just can't stop.

Apparently Brittany can, 'cause she does. Her hand leaves your waist to meet your hand on her cheek, tracing it softly like it's going to break. Like you're going to break. She opens her eyes slowly and when you look at them, it's so beautiful you gasp. She notices and blushes, and you need to give her a small kiss just because she's adorable and you feel like you can.

You don't know what your brain is doing anymore, but, for the first time, you're happy.

Brittany guides you back to the edge of the pool and sits beside you again, her fingers touching yours lightly, just like her feet are doing with the water.

She's testing you reaction.

"Are you okay?" She finally asks, her voice just above a whisper. You look at her and her eyes are so damn blue and bright that makes you forget the answer.

It's so much for you to take. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it is, and you feel yourself beginning to panic, thinking about your mom's speeches about people pretending to be someone they're not, about being honest with yourself; then you remember how her voice twisted when she talked about her gay friend, how she talks like a guy and how wrong it must be to live with another woman like that. And all the times you and her talked about sexuality issues like being gay is a fucking joke and she just ended the conversation with a strong "I'm glad you think that way", like you'd go to hell for thinking otherwise. You don't know if you're not going after tonight.

You think about junior high, when all your best friends seemed to mean so much more for you than your boyfriends, they always said it didn't make any sense. You think about high school, when kissing and doing stuff with boys gave you an adrenaline rush, like you were breaking a thousand rules every time. But the rush didn't last long and you always found yourself looking guilt and wanting to get away somehow.

Finally you think about your future. People will find out you are… Whatever you are. Will you be a bad doctor because of it? You'll have to work harder and harder because you'll be alone when everybody figures out. People can be cruel, even when you're working your ass off just for the sake of saving their lives, they'll think you're not worth, and… Are you, actually? You don't even know, but...

"Santana" Brittany calls you softly, noticing you're not answering. She's fidgeting like she's sorry for interrupting a private conversation, still keeping a comfortable distance between you. "Do you… Want me to leave?"

You reach for her hand again. "Stay", you almost beg and she nods, not saying another word.

She waits several minutes before speaking again, and when she does, you feel your heart shrink a little.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about today"

Your voice is weak. "Why?"

She pulls you just a little closer, so your shoulders are touching. She's looking forward at the pool while you're studying her expression carefully. "People", she starts, "they're… Not so nice sometimes…"

You start to reply, but she cuts you. "I know you're tough, Santana. But do you have to go through it just to prove it? I think… If I can keep you away from that just by shutting my mouth, there's no reason I shouldn't do it. Does it make sense?"

"Yea", you breathe, smiling at her.

"We know you'll have to deal with it sooner or later, but… I won't forgive myself if I took your figuring out stuff time. It's…" she pauses and sighs, like she's shaking off something bad. "It's not cool."

You understand. You're safe for now, but you won't be safe forever. You don't say that out loud, though. Brittany is playing with her suspenders again and you find yourself looking at her and feeling a mixture of gratitude and something that can be relief or… You don't really know, but it feels alright.

"So you don't kiss and tell, Ms. Pierce?" You decide to joke, 'cause, yea, what else you can do anyway?

The sound of her laugh makes your heart twice as big. She turns and looks at you, eyes sparkling.

"I usually don't", she shrugs. "But if I did, I'd totally brag about kissing you to pretty much every person I'd meet at the street", she winks and you gasp again.

You're so mesmerized you don't even notice when she gets up and offers you a hand. "C'mon doc, cat got your tongue?"

You grab her hand and answer without even blinking. "More like you did"

She walks you at the door and opens it after stealing a kiss. "I'm sorry" she whispers after breaking the kiss, pressing her thumb against your lower lip with a goofy smile.

"Don't be", you smile. You want to reach for the tip of her nose, but the height difference allows you to reach just the corner of her mouth. "You're such a gentlewoman, Brittany".

You both laugh when she opens the door and you sneak back to the party. She grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. "Thank you for tonight, Miss Lopez", she says, in a formal tone. You can see she's holding a laugh and you do as well. "It was awesome!" she breaks the serious mood and throws a fist in the air in a victory sign. You both laugh hard.

"Dork", your smile falters and your voice is just a whisper. "I will see you again, right?"

"Don't worry about that", she lowers her head and kiss you cheek. "Berkeley is not that big."

You watch her go with a goofy smile. You really hope she's right.

A/N: Thank you for reading, mistakes aside (sorry, btw!), hope you like it. See you guys soon.
TripperMD.