Title: Time's Ticking
Summary: How much time do you have left until love is lost and fails to exist, and you're left counting the minutes alone forever?
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: T/M
Words: 5.2k
"Hey Britt." Madison says, walking inside your room as you abruptly shut your laptop close with the reddest cheeks ever. Your roommate eyes you suspiciously before shaking it off. "Uh—do you mind me leaving for a while?"
You fix your hair, which hasn't been brushed for the past 2 days and clear your throat. "W-where are you going?" You ask, spinning around in your work chair.
Madison leans against your doorway and crosses her arms together. "Mason invited me to hang out with his friends to some karaoke. Wanna come?" She asks, smiling brightly with her gleaming eyes—you swear, they're almost as nice as yours.
You shake your head slowly with a small smile. "No, it's okay." You mumble, tapping your fingers on top of your laptop. "I have to study for a test tomorrow." You add, wanting nothing more than to hide under your blankets and re-think about whether or not Ms. Lopez is playing with you.
Quirking her eyebrow, Madison grins. "That's too bad." She says, biting her lower lip. "You could dance around while we sing?"
Now she's pushing your deepest temptations.
You laugh, and roll your eyes at her. "Nice try." You reply, giggling lightly. "But I really need the whole night."
Your roommate shrugs her shoulders and waves goodbye to you over her shoulder as she exits her room. "Don't wait up for me then, Britt! Bye!"
Chuckling, you return to face your desk while nibbling on your inner cheek. You stare at your laptop, sigh, and open it up again. Right in front of you, stares the webpage of the link Ms. Lopez sent you. You've read it about 20 times these past 2 days and you don't know what she's trying to make you do. It could be a trick to test your awareness. Like if you're aware that she's just doing this to see if you'll fall for her nasty tricks or not. But if she was testing you, she wouldn't email you about it because now you have evidence. In fact, you could march up to Mr. Noah Puckerman and get her fired for this, even if she is his cousin. If not him, then maybe the police. But no, it's like she knows you won't report her.
But that's weird because you only just met the woman.
"I don't get it." You whine, jutting out your lower lip as you re-read the page for the 23rd time. It's just pointers and advice, and reviews from people who visited the page but nothing more calculus related.
You groan, drop your head to your desk and let out a big puff of frustrated air. You don't understand the woman, and you think you never will. When you hear your phone ringing, you're not surprised to see Madison leaving a text.
Might sleepover at Mason's if ever! Gluck on your test Britt! ( :
Looking at the screen, you push yourself off the seat and grab your coat.
Maybe some music and alcohol can solve your problems.
When you go out of your dorm room and lock the door, you're just in luck because you bump into Mercedes, a girl who lives right next to you and is majoring in Musical Theatre and Arts. You smile at her politely and pocket your keys, about to leave towards the elevator when she calls your name.
"Hey Britt, where you heading this late at night?" She asks you, returning the smile as you both enter the elevator. You press the L button and watch the numbers decrease on top.
"Gonna look for a bar to let loose tonight." You reply, chuckling a bit. "Know anywhere place good, 'Cedes?"
Mercedes grins, almost like she knew you were going to ask and buffs her chest up, giving you a smirk. "Follow me honey, I'm just on my way to 69, it's the pub all of us music majors go to."
You blush and duck your head shyly. "Oh I shouldn't then—" You start to say, not wanting to intrude in a course you're not even in on.
The sassy woman just waves you off and scoffs. "Please, I wouldn't invite you if I didn't think it'd be okay." She hums, wagging a finger at you as the door opens. "What you're wearing though…"
You look down and inspect yourself. You're just wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and tank top. It's nothing fancy or whatever for a club but you never bothered with it because you'd wear a trashbag and still be hot. But maybe she's talking about your messy bunned hair.
"You're lucky you're hot girly, but your blonde hair is like sticking out everywhere." She points out, laughing lightly as you walk out the doors of your dorm condo. She points to a taxi waiting outside and smiles. "Hop in with me?"
You nod gratefully and blow out a puff of air above you which you thought helped removed the bangs from falling all over your face but failed. When you're sliding inside the vehicle and Mercedes is giving the directions to the driver, she tells you to face the window and that she'll fix it instead.
"You're like… really nice." You blurt out, stating your thoughts. "Like, it took my roommate a year until she could finally say more than one sentence to me and be nice enough to grab my towel when I left it while I'm in the showers." You mumble, causing Mercedes to laugh a bit.
"I'm just a people's person." She responds naturally, tapping your shoulder when she's done and you scrunch your nose up when you feel how tightly she tied your hair up in a pony tail. "Don't worry, it'll loosen up as soon as you start dancing." She assures you and you flash her a smile in response.
Sighing, you stare out the window and furrow your eyebrows together.
Well, here we go.
"Can I leave you alone?" Mercedes asks you through the loud beats of the music, the thumping causing your heart to throb as well.
"Yeah! Thanks again for bringing me here." You shout back at her since it's too noisy to communicate. Mercedes grins, winks and trots away in all her sassy glory. Now you really want to be friends with her.
You find a vacant seat by the bar and sit down, leaning back against the counter with your elbows as you scan the crowd. You're looking for something—or someone—interesting enough to distract you for the night and there's this smoking hot brunette pumping her chest like there's no tomorrow and it's got you licking your lips. Maybe she can distract you from the devil that is Ms. Santana Lopez.
"Can I buy you a drink?" A man's gross and hot voice asks right beside you, making you cringe. You didn't really bring your wallet over and you have your coat on you and it's seriously getting hot so you nod your head dumbly and he cheers like he won a prize. You keep staring at this small brunette, changing her dance moves to something more erotic as she grinds her hips down on the air, humping no one in particular and you smirk because yes, you're definitely interested now.
"Here sweet—" You snatch the shot glass from his poor hand and drink the whole thing, sending him a polite grin as you return the glass object and remove your coat, leaving it on the counter as you saunter your way towards the woman in the dance floor.
You're so near her, ready to claim her for the night when she spins around and you can finally see her face clearly. Your eyes bulge out and your mouth drops when in the last second, you spin on the balls of your feet and walk back to the bar counter. You feel your cheeks flushing and your heart beating when you take a seat again and put on your coat, hoping it could shield you from the damn brunette.
Fucking Santana Lopez.
"Back for more?" The guy waggles his eyebrows drunkenly like he knew you'd come back and you don't want to be mean, you're never mean, so you laugh lightly at him and shake your head.
Unfortunately, he thinks it's a good sign so when he gets close to you and winks, you feel your stomach churning. "How about another drink for being such a good girl?"
You gulp and shake your head again, declining his offer.
"Are you diseased or something? You haven't spoken since I said hey." He asks in such a serious tone it makes you want to walk away but you don't know where.
Just to prove him wrong, you take the shot glass he offers and narrow your blue eyes on him. "Hey." You grunt back, pouting your lips.
His eyes immediately fall down your mouth and licks his own. "So you do speak."
"Yeah, but she doesn't find you worthy enough to use her voice."
You turn around and immediately smile upon seeing Mercedes. She has her arms crossed and she's glaring at this not-so-poor boy.
"Fuck off Mercedes, can't I have some fun?"
So they know each other.
Rolling her eyes, Mercedes grabs your hand and just as you guys were about to walk away, she yells at him again. "Not this one!"
You laugh and tighten your hold on her. "Thanks, he was creepy." You say close to her ear as she laughs along. "Like, really creepy—"
"Don't mind Jesse, he's always like that." Mercedes replies, stopping in front of a booth. "And this is my crew, Brittany, I'd like you to meet my group."
A bunch of students sat around a table, drinking a few bottles. You smile and wave at them, gleaming when you spot a familiar face. "Quinn?" You gasp and she shoots her gaze to you, smirking.
"Brittany Tardy Pierce?" She jokes and you frown at her. "Just kidding sweetie, what are you doing here?"
You point to Mercedes. "Mercedes invited me over! What are you doing here?"
Grinning, Quinn winks at you. "Why shouldn't I be here?" She quip back, causing the people around her to chuckle. And you're not surprised, Quinn's like really popular in NYU.
"Britt, let me just introduce you to them before they get drunk and forget your name." Mercedes teases, starting on the left side of the circular table. "That's Mike, Tina, Rachel, and you know Quinn, Blaine, and Roderick."
You wave and blush when the first guy Mercedes introduces you too gives you a wink. "Guys, this is Brittany, she's in Quinn's class."
Quinn brings up her bottle and yells, "We're both math nerds deal with it!"
"Is she drunk already?" You whisper to Mercedes and get a giggle as a response. "Wow, that was quick."
"Did you just call me a light weight?" Quinn shouts and you laugh, shaking your head when she slumps down and leans on the woman's shoulder beside her—Rachel.
"But there's one more person I'd like you to meet! Well, she's more of Rachel's friend because Rachel isn't a student like her—they're both professors—"
You feel a shiver go through your spine. You've got to be kidding—please don't say it Mercedes, you beg in your mind, please don't say what you think she's going to say.
"Oh wait! She's here now,"
"'Cedes, give me some tequila, I'm too sober for this—" You turn around and gulp upon seeing the devil in the flesh.
Professor Santana Lopez stops walking as soon as her mocha brown eyes land on you as well. There's a moment of silence.
You can feel Quinn's gaze on you.
"Ms. Lopez! I'm pretty sure you know who this is—"
"Tardy girl." Santana blurts out, a smirk growing on her lips. "Even late in the party, what are you early in?" She teases you and you feel yourself blushing.
"M-Ms. Lopez—" You stutter, cursing your teeth for being so chattery.
"What is it with people calling you tardy?" Mercedes asks aloud, grinning mysteriously. "I'll go look for my boy in the dance floor, enjoy yourself Britt!" She exclaims, walking away and leaving you staring right at Santana's glorious eyes.
Ms. Lopez licks her lips and chuckles. "Fancy seeing you here." She husks, walking up close to you. "What's an accounting major doing in a music major club?"
You badly want to ask her the same question. Surprisingly, you did. "Y-You're here." You blurt, stepping back when she gets nearer.
Nodding, she stops her walk. "I'm everywhere."
Your eyebrows furrow together, confused when you notice the twinkle in her eyes. Almost immediately, you smile.
She's drunk.
And you wonder why she even bothered saying she was sober a while ago.
Just to prove your assumption, she bends her upper body down and laughs. "Ha! Everywhere, wasn't that funny?"
"Um—" You don't know what to say, but you're fighting the smile that's about to erupt on your face. So much for sexy sultry professor.
"Do you want me to get you water?" You ask, watching as she straightens up, puts her arm out like she's going to lean on something but the thing is, there's no wall beside her, so she's tilting and you manage to grab her around the waist. "Whoa there,"
"I don't need some H20, I am the water."
She's really not making any sense. You bring her up and she pushes you away. "Whoa, Ms. Pierce, I don't let people touch me on the first date."
Your eyebrows quirk up. Date?
"Ms. Lopez, I think you should sit—"
She pushes a finger up to your lips and shushes you. "O-Outside of work you call me Santana." She commands you, scrunching her nose up. "No Ms. Lopez, you can even call me Tana, that's what my daughter calls me."
Your jaw drops and your eyes open.
She has a kid?
Lips quivering, Santana throws her head back and hollers. "Oh my god, that was too good!" She yells, slapping her thigh.
That's when you know she's shitting you.
"That wasn't funny." You mutter, lips pouting.
Santana's eyes soften at looking at your pout before it's shaken off. "Oh please, I'm a lesbian, how do you expect I get knocked up?"
Well, in a span of 5 minutes you found out two things about this woman.
One, when she's drunk, she's very vulnerable and witty.
Two, she's a lesbian.
You wish you didn't know about the latter.
It just makes her test for you for tomorrow even more serious.
Oh wait, another information:
She has no kid.
Like it even matters to you.
Smiling, you shake your head at her, tightening your hold around her waist. "I should bring you home. Can you remember your address?" You joke, pulling her away from the drunken people and towards the exit sign.
Santana grunts in reply. "New York."
You laugh and fight the big grin that's about to show on your lips. "Mhmm, I can tell. Wanna tell me where in New York?"
Santana shakes her head side to side, silently saying no and you fake a frustrated huff. "You're really not going to tell me?"
Grinning, she nods her head.
You smirk and shrug your shoulders. "I guess you have to go home with me then—"
She doesn't expect that, her eyes are wide and her jaw drops and just as you were about to say something to ease her mind, Santana's cheeks puff and she crunches down, throwing up whatever it is inside her stomach. She empties it all out and you gasp because it ends up splattering all over your feet.
"Oh my—"
Santana places her hand on your shoulder and looks up at you, groaning. "S-Shit, I-I'm sorry." She gurgles, swaying in her place. "Bathroom—"
"Yes, right, of course, bathroom. Right there. Let's go." You ramble, holding unto her bicep as she stumbles her way to the public restrooms. She pushes it open with her free arm and runs to one of the available cubicles, the sounds of hurling and puking invade your ears as you cringe in place by the doorway.
It goes on for about 5 more minutes before she's walking out, rubbing her chin dry with the back of her wrist. She blushes when you make eye contact with her and groans, switching the faucet on to wash her hands.
You laugh and she makes another frustrated voice. "Are you going to black mail me?" she asks you and you giggle. "You are aren't you?"
Something goes into your mind and you hum lightly, walking close to her. "Actually, I am."
She turns her head a bit to you and quirks an eyebrow up. "You do know I'm your professor right?"
"But I thought you were outside of work?" You retort with a smirk.
"Touche." She grunts, leaning forward on the sink, her arms flexing. "Now what do you want me to do in exchange of this embarrassment?"
Your expression then turns serious as you cross your arms together, clench your jaw and look away from her and the mirror, where you know she's staring at your reflection. "I don't want to take the quiz you have for me tomorrow."
There's a bit of a silence at first and you're about to think that she fell asleep standing or something when Santana all about slaps her skin—you're not sure where because you've been staring at the dirty tiles—and lets out a gasp.
"Oh! You mean that quiz?"
Yes, the quiz where she basically asked you to research about different sex positi—you know what, you don't even want to think about it since it makes you so flustered all the damn time. You nod your head, finally chancing a glance at her.
She's in another position now, her back facing the mirror as she nibbles on her lower lip. "Was I reading all the signs wrong?" She wonders, chewing on her inside cheek this time. "I for sure remember you staring at my ass the other day."
Your eyes widen and you gulp. She caught you?
By the way her lips turn into a smirk, you guess she feels triumphant now. "Aha!" She exclaims, pointing a finger at you. "So you were checking me out!"
You shake your head furiously, blushing a deep shade of red. "I-I-wasn't! I just—I just, thought your skirt was really nice and—and—w-was thinking what brand might that be." You ramble, doing some hand gestures.
Santana chuckles and licks her lips. "Right." She replies, tilting her head to the side and when you look into her dark eyes, you know she's still drunk. "A+." She grunts, closing her eyes as you scrunch your nose up.
"A+? I'm sorry—what? Are you grading me?"
The door behind you opens and in comes Mercedes who stops walking when she sees the both of you. She takes turns looking between Santana and you before you see the signs of a nasty grin on her face. She giggles and winks at the both of you. "Ms. Lopez, another one already? Don't worry, I won't tell Kitty."
Somehow, Mercedes' words punches your gut and your left to clenching your fists again. You look back down to the tiled floor and let out an exhale. She's just toying with you.
There's a sudden tension in the room and you oddly feel like Santana's sober now when a strong, tanned arm encircles your waist and brings you closer to the foreign body. You feel plump lips pressing light kisses to your neck and you blush. Santana leaves her head on the crook of your neck and inhales your scent before staring back at Mercedes.
"What can I say? I love blondes."
Mercedes laughs and you feel a vein popping on your forehead. You shove Santana away from you and slam the bathroom door open, trotting your way outside of the damn club. This is what you hate. People who treat people like sluts. You're just out of the door when you hear your name being called. You don't know why, but you wish it was Santana.
"Get away from me!" You yell, not bothering to face her as you raise your hand and wait for a taxi.
"Um—are you like an angry drunk or something?"
You turn to your right and you're surprised to see Quinn, your classmate. You sigh and release your frustrations with a forced smile. "No, sorry, I thought you were someone else."
She quirks an eyebrow and smirks. "Hooked up with someone already Britt? Who was it? I know everyone in the arts building, I hang around there a lot." She giggles and sways a bit, confirming your suspicions about how drunk she may be. At least not Santana drunk.
God, she made you mad.
"Um. No, what is it with all of you asking me about a hook up?" You say your thoughts out loud, not meaning to sound so rough. Quinn notices and her features soften. "I'm sorry—New York's just so different from my hometown, I don't—"
Quinn puts a hand up and smiles, a taxi immediately stopping in front of the both of you. Amazed, you climb in along with her. The short-haired blonde turns to you and smiles. "It's okay, you'll get used to it." She says, rubbing your shoulders in comfort. It's silent in the cab for a while before Quinn completely falls back on the seat and groans, peeking at you through her bangs. "N-Now don't be shocked or get mad but—I'm too drunk to remember my address, mind if I crash?"
You smile and throw your head back, laughing. That was probably the highlight of your night. You touch her exposed ankle and give it a light tap, smiling brightly at her for the first time that evening. "Roommate's not coming home so you can take her bed."
Quinn punches a fist in the air and squeals. "Yes!"
You quickly tell the driver your address and in only a few minutes, you're already dropping a sleeping Quinn on top of Madison's bed with drool spilling out of her mouth. You grab a towel and cradle Quinn's head with your hand so that you could slip the towel in and laugh when she kicks her heels off of her feet.
When you're done fixing your own self, and you have a toothbrush inside your mouth, you're surprised to see your phone blinking. You slide it open and frown upon seeing mail.
To: brittanypierce
Fr: santanalopezNYU
Jjwrareyouokayo wieusorry riesfremener nonquizeser you!
xxxxxxxxxSSSSXZ
Well. How unprofessional can she get? Is she like this to all her students? She doesn't deserve to teach. She doesn't deserve to be where she is by drinking around with college students in a bar—even if she's not in that specific department. You really don't want to reply but whatever, one won't hurt right?
To: santanalopezNYU
Fr: brittanypierce
Please drink some water, Ms. Lopez.
There wasn't a reply after that. Well you thought there wasn't. But when you wake up the next day and sit down on your kitchen stool with a stumbling Quinn, asking for some breakfast, you're still confused by her message.
To: brittanypierce
Fr: santanalopezNYU
A+
Seriously, Is she grading you?
"Brittany!" Quinn screams, jolting you in your place. You smile at her and she groans, scratching her head. "Someone's knocking on the door."
"Oh." You mumble, placing your phone down as you get up and walk towards the front. When you open it, you're not surprised to see Madison in all her happy glory. "Madi, what's up?"
She waltz inside and drops her bag on the couch, entering the kitchen whilst talking about a great night when she stops. You furrow your eyebrows and follow her in. You chuckle when you spot Quinn's head on the counter, snoring away. Madison turns to you and licks her lips which changes into a smirk. You open your mouth immediately to say something but she cuts you off.
"I thought you were into brunette's?"
You smack your forehead and whine. "She's not a hook up! God, I hate that word so much." During the past 24 hours, you've heard the word hook and up about 20 times or so. What is it with people's minds these days? "She's just a friend who couldn't recall her address and asked to sleepover."
Giggling, Madison waggles her eyebrows at me. "Oh yeah, she totally slept over—tell me, was it over your body or—"
You blush and send her a glare. "Madison!" You squeal, shaking your head in embarrassment. "I said she was too drunk to remember her address."
"Uhuh—" she hums, sipping from your orange juice. "—I remember you telling me the same story when that Mexican chick came over and then—what was it you said?"
Biting your lower lip, you fight the heat on your cheeks from the memory.
Madison gasps and nods her head. "That's right! You said you rocked her world so good she never thought of her own place to stay." She laughs out loud, causing Quinn to wake up and slam her hands down on the metal counter.
You're thankful for the subject change.
"It's so loud." The blonde whimpers, her short hair sticking out everywhere. "I hear an annoying sound."
Madison frowns and crosses her arms together. "I don't like this one." She mumbles to you and you smile. "My voice is angelic."
You grab a plate from the stove and slide it towards Quinn who sloppily thanks you for the breakfast. "Self-centered much?" You joke.
Madison glares at you and huffs. "Truthful is more like it."
"Anyways, I need to get Quinn sobered up and ready, we have calculus in an hour."
"Goodluck with that." Madison says, giggling at Quinn who misses the egg, causing it to drop back into her plate. "I take it back, she's funny, I like her."
"Britt—do we have a quiz today?" Quinn asks, her eyes half lidded.
Your body tenses and you freeze for a bit before shaking your head. "Nothing that I know of—" You clear your throat and pass another plate to Madison who greedily digs in. "—I'll shower first then you next then we get ready for class and go, you good with that?"
Quinn pouts. "But I didn't bring my stuff."
"We'll pass by your dorm on the way." You mumble, and Quinn flashes a grateful smile to you.
Leaning close to Madison, you briefly hear her say "Brittany's a great friend." Before you're inside your room again.
"Do I look horrible?" You face Quinn and smile at her where she hides her eyes behind black shades she borrowed from Madison.
"Nah, you look fine—honestly."
She smacks your arm as you walk up to the elevator. "I don't believe you—you're too nice."
You chuckle lightly in reply when before you enter devil's nest, she tugs on your shirt and you turn to her with a questioning expression. She licks her lips and smiles.
"By the way, my family holds this annual New Year's Eve party and fortunately, I'm inviting you and your roommate to come. So save the date!" She hums, and you grin excitedly, avoiding the staring daggers from behind you, probably from brown eyes. But you see, Quinn isn't just popular in school, no, her family, the Fabray, holds one of the most expensive lingerie line, coming 2nd after Victoria Secret. Thus, getting an early invite from the daughter herself is priceless. And it's just August!
"Cool, thanks Q." You slip the nickname, taking the seat beside hers, not noticing an amused smile on her blonde friend's lips.
Your friendly trance is broken as Professor Lopez's heels noisily clack along the wooden floors.
Subtly, you peek through your long eyelashes and watch as she brushes her dark brown hair down and exhales. She has shades on, and weirdly, you grin at her expression.
"Who has the answer to page 342?" She screams, quite loudly, causing a lot of the students to flinch in their seats. You couldn't help but giggle.
Someone raises his hand and it seems to make Santana snap.
"What the fuck did I say about raising hands?"
The poor man puts it down when a girl says. "It's a waste of time, just spit it out."
Santana points to the woman, frowning still. "B." She mutters, it was so low and quiet you'd think no one heard but ever since she's been grading you with A's and A+'s, you've noticed them.
"So will someone please—"
"—There is no page 342."
Santana stops walking and whips her head to the sound of that voice. "What?" She hisses.
Quinn, who you thought fell asleep, says, "It was page 203."
Grabbing her folder and stifling through the pages, Santana clucks her tongue. "Right. Page 342 is today's—alright somebody just step down and show me the answer in the board, first one to finish gets bonus points."
Almost immediately, a bunch of people rush down the steps and attack the green board. Amidst the chaos, you write down some notes when something lands something on your table. You look up and narrow your eyes on the Latina professor. She leans forward and smirks, tapping the file she left for you.
"Your curriculum." She says, and you desperately want to see her eyes. "Wasn't able to give it to you the 1st day."
You nod your head, sliding it close to you. "Thanks." You manage to reply. She stays for a while, and opens her mouth to say something else when one student screams done and a chorus of groans is heard throughout the room.
Humming, Santana leaves you and pushes students away from her.
"What's that?" Quinn asks, leaning close to you.
You smile softly. "Curriculum." You answer her shortly.
She raises an eyebrow. "Um, you get that online." She says as a matter of fact.
"What?"
You snap the folder open and is shocked when you see just a small post it stuck inside. Quinn gets closer and laughs.
"Well, what about that?"
That's the thing.
The post it is empty.