Sorry for the long break in installments. I had to write Sirens to avoid the mob and then the end of semester was brutal, but I am back and excited to continue IIAC. Thanks again for everyone who's been sending reviews and to the person(s) who nominated IIAC for best multi-chap smut for the GSAwards. When I saw that, I had a big smile on my face. Means I'm doing something right and by "something" I mean the smut…at least the smut's alright. ;) (This is my warning for more smut this chapter. Some of you scold me for my lack of warnings hahaha)

Also thanks to my fantastic friend and fellow Brittana writer, Balexi, I am on twitter now. So I guess feel free to hit me up there as well. kell_nico

The bastardization of song lyrics: Criminal by Fiona Apple

Is it a Crime?

3.1 Criminal

"Mhhmm…" Brittany awoke to the lightest of streams from the blinds covering the windows. She shifted. Covers spread across her chest and her bare arm crossed over the space next to her. It was a strange feeling to expect a body to be lying aside of her in the morning. Britt had always been quite aware of her body's needs and her sexuality was as fluid as her thoughts, but she didn't make a habit of expecting somebody in bed with her in the morning. In fact, she avoided it. Too much hassle. Besides, she didn't have time for serious relationships; she was far too busy staying in the captain's good graces, or avoiding the captain's foul temper. It meant almost no personal life. Sam was about as personal as it got and that was because they were partners and roommates. Not that they shared much anyway.

So when Brittany stretched out, her fingers grasped to sheets she had been writhing over only hours ago, only to find the familiar expanse of emptiness.

Surprised, she turned. The covers shifted over her naked body, but she didn't care. The cop had confidence in spades when it came to her body. She flexed her muscles and cracked her back as she sat up in the bed. Her wrists ached and her thighs were a little sore, but not the usual soreness from dancing. These were the muscles for riding and they were burned from the previous night.

Brittany couldn't contain the satisfied smirk that played on the corners of her mouth as she thought about the reasons why she felt so good this morning.

Damn.

Even the lonely bed didn't seem that bad when she thought about who she shared it with that night.

Damn.

She stretched again; the smile on her face grew. The light from the windows filtered in and bounced off her golden locks of hair. Sometime during the night her Cher wig most have gotten tossed. She glanced over to the floor near the door and remembered aggressive hands flinging the costume piece from her head. Best thirty-five bucks she ever spent.

Because damn.

Lazily, her eyes roved over the room. It was swanky. Pure swank. The walls were alabaster white. The blinds were diagonal cuts over large windows that over looked the city. The paintings on the walls were modern abstracts. Everything, everything, was gilded, including, Brittany noted with residual pleasure, the bars to the backboard of the bed, the ones Santana had cuffed her to.

Yeah, that happened…

While observing the room, she did notice the only piece of clothing which was still visible was, in fact, the Cher wig. Everything else had mysteriously vanished. Strange. She could have sworn they had stripped on the way to the bed. She shrugged and pulled at the loosest sheet from the bed. In a few moments, the cop had slid the material over her backside and up her front. It left her upper back and most of her legs exposed.

Modesty wasn't her thing.

The police officer bent over to collect the wig and fashioned it crooked on her head. Couldn't be too careful; she still wasn't sure where she was and last night had been a hazy mess of heat and sex. Her disguise had successfully allowed them to escape the Ark last night – the details were fuzzy, but they did end up here so it had to work.

Voices from another room perked her curiosity. Britt pulled the sheet around her body just a little tighter as she stepped around the room and started to make her way through the foreign pad.

"You've been a bad, bad girl…" A voice was saying, but Brittany couldn't quite make out who it was or from where they were talking.

But the voice that followed, Brittany would recognize anywhere. "I know."

"You've been careless with a delicate matter." The voice said again, but with more anger or frustration or something. Brittany couldn't quite decide the emotion. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know what I was thinking." Santana's voice responded. Britt lingered back still unsure what was happening or why Santana was a "bad, bad girl". Well, Brittany did know ways that Santana was bad, but in a dirty way, and that involved the bed. Somehow, Britt doubted that was what this other person was talking about. "I couldn't help myself. She…" Santana's voice trailed off as if thinking about something or someone. "…just does something to me. I don't know what it is, but when I look at her from the stage, I know only want to be down there next to her. And when I'm next to her, I feel all lit up, like I'm on a stage and she's the only one who can see me."

"Oh Jesus, Santana…" The voice remarked. "This can only end badly."

Britt felt her cheeks flaming up. Her heart was hammering fast. The cop thought only Santana had that effect on her. She didn't know the feeling was mutual. Did spells work both ways?

Too busy worrying about how she felt and what Santana had just confessed, Brittany didn't notice that the voices had cut off. A strong hand came down hard on her shoulder. Instinctively, Brittany's body rolled away from the grasp and ripped backward. A hand flew up into her face which the blonde deftly countered. She didn't have time to look into her assailant's face, but she tried the same move that had been successful on Puckerman's thug last night.

It was easily countered and turned back on her.

Britt ducked right as a closed fist sailed toward her face.

What the-?

He was good. She dropped her whole body to avoid the blow and kicked out, but her attacker had already anticipated her move. Britt glanced up with confusion mixed with appreciation.

She was good.

The sheets that had been half-heartedly covering her body were slipping and a thin sheen of sweat graced the cop's brow. But she wore a smirk on her face. The other woman, older and with some grey in her hair, returned the smirk with one of her own as they prepared to spar off again.

"Shannon!" Santana broke into the space between them with her hands raised. "Anita."

Brittany backed down instantly, but the smirk on her face remained.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Santana. I didn't realize your guest was still here and I thought it might be an intruder or some sort of danger to you."

"It's fine and no, this is…" Santana took in a sharp breath. She quickly calculated her options for naming Brittany especially after Shannon had just lectured her on the importance of being careful with fire. Her personal body guard had figured out Brittany was a cop because of Berry. Somehow Berry had spotted them in the club and decided to take matters in her own hands. She released the Beast in order to keep Santana safe – mostly if Puckerman's guards figured out the blonde's identity. "…the woman I was talking about, Anita."

"I see…" Shannon said carefully. Her eyes took inventory of Brittany even if the blonde woman had already gained her respect. "I haven't sparred with someone possessing even half of your skill in a very long time. I'm sure you kept Ms. Santana very occupied all night."

The singer blushed hard and Brittany's smirk only brightened at the compliment. Not fully understanding the insinuation, Britt cheerfully responded. "We definitely weren't sparring all night, but I did manage to pin Santana a few times. How did you know? Are you psychic too?"

The red in Santana's face deepened and she had to swallow hard. Shannon shot her a wink and a raise of the brows. It had been hard to believe that Santana – the Santana Lopez – who went through more women than even Puckerman, could have been talking about this woman like she had crush on her in the sixth grade only a few moments ago. And yet, Santana's blush was more telling than any words or explanations.

Oh shit. She really liked this cop. Shannon's smile lost some of its sincerity. This was not good.

"A word, Ms. Lopez."

Santana had been smiling at Brittany. Her eyes kept dropping to the bare skin Britt was so blatantly exposing. It was as if the cop didn't even realize the sheet was sheer and all the excitement and physical excursion had made her tits all the more visible. Fuck.

"Ms. Lopez." Beiste repeated.

"Oh, right." Santana smiled once again to Britt. "I-um-sure. Don't um-leave. I'll be back." She made sure she caught Brittany's eyes and waited for the blonde to know.

Britt wasn't sure where she would be going since a clothing thief snatched all her clothes from last night except for the wig. Seemed kinda silly in retrospect. But she definitely wanted to wait for Santana.

"You should get her out of here. It's not safe."

"But you're not going to tell him anything, are you?"

"Tell him what? I saw you with a girl and everything was good. That's all I will reveal."

"Thank you, Shannon. You really are the best."

"Don't tell anyone though. I have a reputation to maintain." She glanced back over to Brittany and called out. "Maybe we could have another round later?"

"You can count on it." The blonde beamed with a smile.

They were once again sneaking somewhere.

Brittany was pretty sure Captain Sylvester and Santana were not working together, but both of them were really quite interested in undercover missions. The captain had wanted Britt to infiltrate the Ark and Santana was always trying to sneak her out. At least this time they weren't in Puckerman's play palace club. But why were they still clinging to walls and looking down corridors? She wished that she remembered just a little more about the details of this place. But last night was fuzz still, except for the sex. That was something she wouldn't forget.

Britt pulled on the shirt she was wearing and played with the buttons. Santana had given her a blue plaid button down that still had the tags on it. She explained that her clothes were getting cleaned and they would be sent to her later. Whoever "they" were? The cop thought it was sort of strange, but dismissed it.

The wig had, regretfully, been ditched. Santana tossed it on their way out of the condo. The singer's appearance hadn't really changed much. Apparently whether she was in the club or walking out of her condo, she still liked to rock tight fitting short dresses.

"Let me see you." The brunette pulled Britt through the hallway and into a small alcove. Her eyes once again soaked in every inch of the cop. "Not bad, except you missed a few."

"A few what?" Britt started to ask, but was cut off by Santana's fingers pulling at the sides of the plaid shirt.

"For magic hands, you missed a few buttons." Santana wasn't used to the height difference. Well, not with another woman. There wasn't a lot of talking or standing involved when she slept with women. With Puck, she was used to his dominating presence towering over her. She didn't know why she felt the need to preen her neck or why she didn't feel the need to try to level the distance between their lips. In fact, Santana liked the way her skin tingled and her stomach clenched whenever Britt gazed down into her eyes. It made her feel special in ways Puckerman's gaze made her feel dirty and objectified. "I don't mind helping. You can't be magical all the time."

"Who's to say that I didn't plan this?" Britt asked. Her hands were already snaking up Santana's forearms.

"What?"

"It got you closer…" Britt's eyes did that mysterious twinkle that Santana was beginning to understand was part of the cop's attractiveness. Brittany was making a habit in the very short time they had known each other of taking away Santana's ability to think straight.

"This is dangerous." Santana said after a second. Brittany really shouldn't be caught here.

"You know about Captain Sylvester too?"

"Who?"

"My captain. She's the one who wants to take down Puckerman and sent me to the Ark in the first place."

"Puckerman!" Santana grasped at the straw. "I know you're a cop and I have to assume you have a badge, but not even those things will protect you if he figures out that I slept with you. He'll hunt you down. He doesn't like loose ends."

Britt didn't like the sudden fear in Santana's voice. She quickly glanced around. "Can you talk here?"

"Not really. Can we leave?"

"Sure…" Britt nodded. Santana took her cue and led her down the corridor past a few more doors and men. They were very careful not to be seen. It was strange because it seemed like this was their usual song and dance. To run around and make sure no one saw them because they were in danger. What was even stranger was this was really only their second time together. Britt didn't want to say anything, but she made a silent vow to give Santana some time – some real time when she wasn't ducking Puckerman's men or running around in fear. Britt wanted to make the singer feel comfortable.

Outside, in the back of the building, there was a limo waiting for them.

"This is yours?" Britt stared at the tinted windows with trepidation.

"In a sense."

Again, it was the way Santana never really owned to anything that heightened Brittany's hesitation, but she followed the brunette. They climbed in and Santana tapped the glass three times. "He can drop you off wherever you want."

"Well since I didn't show up to work today, might as well take me home. I have no idea where we are by the way."

Santana looked to her with a smirk. She tapped the glass behind her head with a short, but perfectly painted purple nail. The window opened and with her other hand Santana beckoned Britt forward to reveal her place of residence to the driver. Her dark eyes smoldered with the invitation. "Good."

Britt climbed through the cabin. It was just like Santana was singing; the blonde had no power against her compulsion. She hesitated for a second. Santana was still directly underneath the open window and the driver was waiting patiently. But Santana wasn't moving. There was desire in her expectant pose. Consciously, her left leg slid out. The shift spread her legs into a very unladylike position. Unable to do much else, Brittany's eyes went from the window to between Santana's legs back to her eyes to confirm Santana's devious intentions and then settled for the expanse of flesh the singer was baring for her. Even more unladylike was her lack of clothing. Sure, Santana was rocking that tight dress and pumps, but there was little else in way of covering for the seductress. Britt glanced up to the driver who was getting impatient.

She liked games.

"Good?" The blonde pressed forward. She kept her eyes directly on the driver's, but her hands moved of their own accord. She stepped into Santana's open invitation. Her jean clad thigh pressed into Santana's opening move. The brunette responded. The dress hiked and the hem flipped up. Her pink tongue rimmed her lips wanton with desire.

"Very good."

Britt shuddered at the hot breathed response on her neck as she leaned forward to give the driver her address. Not one to be one-upped, the cop's hand pressed into the leather seat next to Santana's head. The other hand stroked the side of Santana's flushed cheek then trailed down her neckline. The singer's eyes grew wide with her cop's bold advances. The driver pretended not to notice, but his eyes were in the rear view mirror watching the phases of pleasure washing over the blonde's face. "Why's that?"

"Because…" Santana drew out the word. Britt's fingers were snaking down her collarbone, but before she could plunge into the singer's ample cleavage, Santana grasped the cop's wrist. Surprised, Britt broke eye contact with the driver. He coughed and pretended he hadn't been staring at the two lovers. The window slowly closed.

Distracted by the rolling window, Brittany's body went into shock. Santana maneuvered Brittany's hand so her middle and index fingers were dragging down the singer's bottom lip. The cop glanced down just in time to see Santana insert her two fingers right into her full mouth.

"Mmmm-Santana-" Brittany's hips bucked forward. She would have closed her eyes, but there was something so fucking sexy about the way those plump lips looked around her digits that made Brittany's borrowed jeans almost unbearable to wear.

The limo pulled out.

But Brittany's fingers didn't.

Santana's tongue rolled around – up and down their lengths before inserting between them. The blonde moaned even louder. Finally her eyes closed and her body rocked harder. Santana shifted and her muscular legs wrapped around the other's waist. As Santana sucked on Brittany's fingers, the cop couldn't remain idle. She leaned forward making sure her pelvic bone rocked right into Santana's groin. The woman's mouth lost suction for a split second as she gasped. Emboldened, Britt pressed her lips to the rim of Santana's ear. "You still didn't answer my question."

Her fingers…

Popped from Santana's lips. The singer looked up into Britt's eyes under heavy dark lashes. "It means I still get some time with you."

"And you want that?"

"You're the first woman I've ever wanted more than once-" Santana's hands found purchase on the low riding jeans, right where the waistline slipped from Brittany's defined hipbones. "The only woman I've thought about since I saw you on the dance floor in the Ark."

"Yeah?" Those eyes that Santana could see across the club locked to hers once again. Fingers that had previously been in Santana's mouth had wandered between her legs. Wet and seeking to be in the singer once again, they ran up exposed skin and inside thighs. The brunette bit her bottom lip to stop more noise escaping. The cop might have loved dancing and touching herself to the sound of Santana's singing, but the singer died every time her Anita's raspy voice quaked against her neck. Her body shook and ached for one more word from those lips, one more touch of those fingers, one more rock of those hips. She impatiently waited for Brittany's next words and they didn't disappoint. "I want to make sure I'm the only woman you'll ever think about."

Neither woman had time to appreciate Brittany's declaration. There was no bass from the club, no purple tube-shooters, no cement walls, or cages to hold them up.

Just those eyes.

She didn't know what she expected, but when Britt declared her intentions, the brunette's body clenched in exhilaration.

Unable to form coherent thoughts or a viable argument against Brittany, Santana just nodded. She tongued at her lips again trying to retain what little moisture hadn't been sucked into the now humid limo cab. Brittany's left hand reached out and cupped Santana's chin with firm sensitivity. Sensual had never been a word she used when describing sex, but Santana's abdomen strained to contain the sensations Brittany's intimate gesture sent coursing through her body. With a grip on her chin and her other hand steadily running up and down her dripping pussy, Santana knew she was effectively caught.

She wasn't about to be fucked.

No. That was too crude, but what they were doing was animalist, it was primal, it was deeper. It made her body ache and throb. And something deeper – her eyes were glued to Brittany's and allowed no inch to look away. Even if she wanted to, Santana couldn't close her eyes. Her lips parted. Short and ineffective breaths mingled with the blonde's heady exhales. Their faces were only an inch apart. But as much as Santana wanted to lift herself up and kiss Brittany senseless, the grip of her temporary lover on her chin kept her firmly in the space of unattainable needs.

Brittany seemed to be just that – an unattainable need.

Santana's hips lifted. She bucked.

Fingers that had been only teasing now started to work. But the expression in the blonde's face never changed. Only her panting. Santana never wanted to submit before. She never even knew submission was possible when having sex, but in this moment, completely enthralled, she wanted to give everything to this woman.

Finally Santana shut her eyes. Brittany. She could feel her. Brittany. Oh fuck she felt her. Brittany. But it wasn't just the way Brittany's body suddenly took over the motion, it was the way Santana felt everything. Brittany. They moved together against the leather interior. Up and down. Hips rubbed. Stomachs touched. Sweat exchanged.

Britt- Santana opened her eyes unable to complete the woman's name. She swallowed hard. Those eyes were still staring straight into her. It was like electric running through her body. Everything tingled. Everything throbbed. She wasn't sure when her orgasm started all she knew was that if Brittany ever disconnected from her body, she would surely die. Pleasure upon pleasure. And those eyes never closed, never sought to conquer, but Santana felt herself connected to the other woman in ways she had never felt before.

Her lips parted once again. And those blue eyes witness with relish as another orgasm tore through Santana's body. She should have closed her eyes, but she wanted to share it all with Brittany. It bordered on pain to keep her eyes open as the walls of her pussy pulsed and her hips thrust wildly all the way to the blonde's knuckles. Those blue orbs absorbed it all.

They both collapsed onto the seat of the limo tangled up. Santana still couldn't breathe, but her heart was beating for another reason.

Because that was more than just sex. Better than just sex. Whatever that was – Santana didn't know if she would survive another round of Brittany's full attention.

"Wow…" Brittany whispered into dark strands of hair.

The limo pulled to stop. One knock on the window signaled they had arrived at their destination. But neither girl moved.

"We can stay here for awhile, right?" Britt asked breathlessly.

"Yeah. He can wait."

They closed their eyes.

Unsure how long they had been resting, both girls had eventually worked themselves around the cabin of the limo. Their clothes were wrinkled, hair was a mess, and it still smelled like sex. They sat on opposite sides of the limo. Britt watched with curiosity as Santana opened the mini bar for a small bottle of alcohol and made herself a drink. Conversation had been sparse since their…moment.

"You do this often?"

"No." Santana's dark eyes which had been purposely avoiding Britt continued to stare into the contents of her glass without consuming the liquid. The abrupt answer caught Brittany off guard, especially after what they just shared. The cop wasn't an expert on relationships by any means, but that had been special. "Do what often?"

"This whole thing…the limo…" Bashfully, Britt continued even though she was fighting feelings of embarrassment. "…the girl…the morning after…the clothes…"

Santana was still reeling from whatever had passed between them. Defensive and out of sorts, she lashed out without thinking. "Yes."

"Oh."

Britt hung her head, but pretended to not be affected. "So, what is Puckerman to you? He can't be your boyfriend because there aren't many girls I know who can do what you did without knowing their way around the ladies…"

She left it open for Santana to deny.

But everything was dangerous. This was crazy dangerous. Puck needed an alibi for last night and she spent it sleeping with a cop working his turf. Stupid wasn't a strong enough word. Her eyes roved over Brittany's earnest eyes and sexy smile. If she got involved in this shit, there was no way to protect her, cop or not. Santana didn't know if she would ever forgive herself if something happened. Besides, she was so close to breaking free from Puckerman's control; one misstep in the form of a beautiful blonde could set her back years.

Was it worth it?

God, how her gut said "yes", but her head took over.

"Forget what happened last night and this morning, Brittany."

"What?"

"You need to forget it. Seriously. This is the last time we can see each other." Santana remembered that she had spoken similar words to the blonde after their escape from the Ark. "I mean it this time. Don't come back to the Ark."

"But-"

"No."

"This is about Puckerman, isn't it?"

"No. You should leave now."

Brittany ignored her statement. "He doesn't own you."

It's a sad, sad world. When a girl will break a girl, just because she can.

"He does. And I like it like that. So whatever you think this is, Brittany. It's not. And whatever you think happened between us? It was just a hook-up." Santana firmly stated. For the first time since meeting her, that night in the Ark, Santana saw a shift in the blonde's eyes. There was no smile. No playful confidence and certainly no secret moment they were sharing at this moment. Just raw disbelief and incomprehension.

She was doing wrong and she was going to suffer for her sins.

This was the price for her label and the gigs. This was her price for making a deal with Puckerman all those years ago.

"I see."

"No." Santana said with wistful regret as she opened the door to the limo and pointed for Brittany to make her exit. "You can't see and we won't see each other again."

Brittany nodded and bit her tongue. She couldn't believe how much it hurt to get the brush off from a woman she barely knew. Upon passing, Santana drew her arm back so Brittany wouldn't even be able to brush against her. With one more look back, Brittany stood up from the limo and glanced back. Dark eyes tried to hide feelings and obscured judgment. For a moment, Brittany saw regret, but it was gone with the slamming of the door. The sleek black limo drove around the corner and Brit stood there unable to comprehend that she would never see Santana again.

It just didn't seem right.

When the limo dropped her off at her apartment, Santana warily noticed the signs of detective cars parked on her street.

Fucking Puckerman.

She walked into the building and inserted her key in the door. Just as she turned it, Mercedes was right there with the biggest and fakest smile on her face.

"Why hello, Santana. So nice of you to join us."

"Us?" Santana returned the smile and asked with curiosity, but she already knew the answer. "I didn't know we were expecting guests."

"Hello, ma'am." A greasy haired older man stepped forward. He held out his hand. "I am Lieutenant Schuester and this is Detective Chang. We were hoping to have a few moments of your time."

"Eh, save it." Santana looked at the offered hand, ignored it, and rolled her eyes. "I know the drill. You want to ask me a few questions downtown?"

"Well when you put it-"

"Shh." Santana shushed the lieutenant and looked to Mercedes. "Can you be a dear and call my lawyer Fabray?"

"Don't worry, Tana, she already called for you here. When Puckerman was picked up, he specifically called to make sure you made it home safely from his condo to the apartment after your night together. He didn't want you to be concerned."

"Of course he did. He's such a thoughtful boyfriend." She looked over at the two police officers. This was the last alibi. This was the last time she had to cover for Puck and then she was free. She took a deep breath. "So am I meeting you down there or are you two going to drive me?"

"You can come in our cruiser, Ms. Lopez." Mike answered. He opened the door and the three of them walked out together.

Can't wait to continue! Hope you guys enjoyed! :DDD

I'm hoping to finish the next chapter of Sirens by the end of the week.