A/N: Hey, guys, I'm back!
I want to apologize in advance for how woefully short this chapter is. I wrote it on 3 hours of sleep and considering how long it took to write, I was kind of pissed at myself at how short this is. Next chapter will be longer, I swear. :) I sent this off to my Beta last Friday, but she hasn't gotten back to me, and I really wanted to update this week, so I'm doing it now. So, I'm sorry for any mistakes. I haven't really looked over this in much detail...I hope it's okay!
So, the reviewers!
Albany - Haha, that's what a cliffhanger is supposed to do! Keep you hanging until the sadistic writer feels like telling you what happens next. ;) I hope the wait wasn't too bad? And, I hope you like this chapter! Thanks so much for the review! :D
adriana - D'aw, thanks. *Blushes and looks away bashfully* I hope you like this chapter! :)
Last White Feather - Yes, Santana! She will be here for the long haul now, don't you worry. :) And, you're quite welcome. I couldn't not dedicate it to you with all your awesome reviews and comments about Santana finally coming on the scene. ;) Anyway, thanks, as always for the review, and I hope this chapter isn't too bad! :)
Okay, so, Glee. I don't know about you, but I'm having some seriously mixed feelings about these last two episodes. Most of them not so good feelings. I think I'm just cynical? I don't know. I don't want to rant about it because I could seriously go all day lol. But, if you want to talk about it with me, I'm always up for a good Glee discussion. ;)
Yeah, so, I only have one more major paper due, and then finals and grading of finals and essays, and then I'm free for summer! Except, I'm going to be spending my summer in the Florida Keys, working at the diving museum there because I got an internship there! I'm super excited. I don't get paid, but I get a free apartment for the summer, so...that's good. :)
Okay, I'll shut up now. Again, I'm sorry for how short this chapter is, but I hope it's satisfactory for you guys! :D
Brittany's breath hitched in her throat and she stared, wide-eyed with astonishment, at the young woman standing before her. She tried to say something, and discovered that she couldn't get a single word out. Santana Lopez. But surely that was the name of Brittney's fiancé!
"Oh—but—" she stammered, feeling a rosy blush warm her cheeks. "Seattle—I thought—"
Impossibly, the flush on Santana Lopez's tan face became a shade darker, and Brittany barely had time to register the fact that she thought that it made the Latina look even lovelier when Santana spoke. "Yes, I know," she said, exactly as if Brittany had uttered a complete sentence anyone could follow. "I apologize for taking you by surprise. But when I received your telegram and realized what train you must be on, I decided to set out to meet you at once. I thought we might make at least a portion of the journey together."
"But I don't understand," Brittany protested, still baffled by the woman's sudden appearance. "Where on earth did you get on?"
"In Leavenworth," Santana answered, staring intently into Brittany's eyes. "I could hardly seek you out then, Miss Bennett. It was the middle of the night. But I've been trying to figure out a way to make your acquaintance all morning. You must agree that we have much to—"
Suddenly, Santana seemed to become aware that there were other people seated at the table, not just Brittany. Her voice faltered, then broke off as she tore her gaze away from Brittany's ocean blue eyes. Brittany was slightly taken aback at the sudden lack of warmth she felt when Santana shifted her eyes to the others at the table, but mentally shook the feeling aside.
Brittany could feel Mrs. Fabray's sharp hazel eyes watching her avidly from across the table. Beside her, Brittney radiated tension as strongly as the stove did heat. However, after her first, quickly cut off impulse to respond to her own name, the other girl had made no movement.
Oh dear, Brittany thought. I've ruined things already.
Her startled response to Santana Lopez was hardly the most auspicious beginning to her plan to learn more about what kind of person she was. As the silence dragged on, becoming brittle and awkward, every single reason for calling off the masquerade right now seemed to leap straight into Brittany's mind.
Stop being such a ninny, she told herself sternly. Brittney stood up to Finn's fury. Surely you can deal with Miss Santana Lopez, no matter how captivating you may find her. The Latina didn't look dangerous at all. In fact, Brittany could not imagine her ever losing her temper, let alone raising her fists against someone in anger.
Finally getting her bearings straight, she turned her attention back to the situation at hand. "Please forgive me, Miss Lopez," she said, with a brilliant smile. "This storm and the delay have made me quite forget my manners. Won't you sit down? Please allow me to introduce my companions. This is Mrs. Fabray, and her daughter Beth."
"How do you do?" Santana greeted promptly, as though pleased to have the strange situation reduced to one where ordinary good manners could simply take over. She moved to the far side of the table and swung her leg over the bench to sit next to Beth. "Perhaps, Beth, you would allow me to sit beside you," she said, smiling down warmly at the young blonde girl.
To Brittany's surprise, Mrs. Fabray began to bluster. "Well, really, I'm afraid I just don't know," she fussed. "We've only just been introduced—a strange young woman—"
"And this is—" Brittany began.
"But she's not a stranger," Brittney's voice suddenly spoke up, drowning out Brittany's. "She's Miss Bennett's fiancé."
"—my good friend, Miss Brittney Pierce."
Santana jerked. Her face, so red and flustered just a few moments before, now turned paler than her tan complexion should allow, almost as pale as the snow outside the cook shack door. Her mouth fell open.
"Oh, but, I was given to understand—" she started.
"That I had no friends?" Brittany finished softly. The warmth she had felt a moment earlier while looking into the Latina's eyes vanished as a wave of ice swept through her.
Is this the kind of person Santana is? she wondered sadly. Did she want Brittney only because she had no friends? No one to interfere on her behalf? No one to come to her aid if she required it?
Just as I had no one.
The brunette didn't look the type, but then, as Brittany knew to her own cost, appearances could be deceiving. Santana Lopez might look like a simple, straightforward woman, even a compassionate one, but she could still be as much of a swindler as Artie Abrams.
Why had she agreed to marry a total stranger? Brittany wondered. She thought she understood at least a part of how Brittney had come to be engaged, but what were Santana's motives?
Santana shut her mouth with a snap. Her dark chocolate eyes aimed right at Brittany. "I am delighted to learn that Miss Bennett has a good friend with her," she said, her voice quiet. But Brittany could hear the weight in it, feel it in the way her eyes looked into her own so directly. "I had feared that she—that you—were all alone in the world."
A fine tingling radiated from the pit of Brittany's stomach as she felt her heart clench at the Latina's words. Don't underestimate her, she thought, mentally trying to shake off the emotion that had come over her. Santana Lopez may look quiet, but Brittany's guess was that she didn't miss much. Had she understood what Brittany had meant when she had finished the Latina's sentence for her?
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Pierce," she continued now, the tone of her voice softening as she turned toward Brittney. "A friend of Miss Bennett's will always be a friend of mine."
"Thank you," Brittany heard her companion whisper beside her.
"Gracious," Mrs. Fabray said. It was her usual exclamation, but, from across the table, Brittany could see that her eyes were razor sharp and curious. "How funny you all sound! As if you had barely met."
"Actually," Santana began, before Brittany could think of a way to prevent her, "we—"
Brittany was saved by Beth Fabray's enthusiasm for her breakfast.
"Finally!" she shouted jubilantly without warning. "Flapjacks!"
Brittany turned her head. The tall Asian man Sam had introduced earlier as Tina's husband and assistant, Mike, was heading for their table with a steaming platter of flapjacks.
"It's about time," Beth announced as Mike drew closer. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."
Mike's thin dark eyebrows shot up. "Is that so?" he said. He set the platter of flapjacks down in the center of the table, and then plunked down butter and syrup beside them. "By my reckoning, there's about a couple horses' worth in there, at least. That ought to hold you for a while," he said, smiling and winking at the young girl.
"Thank you," Beth replied with an enthusiastic smile, her eager fingers already reaching for the fluffy flapjacks.
Mike smiled. "You folks want anything else, you just let us know," he told them, and then headed back in the direction of the kitchen.
"Beth," Mrs. Fabray scolded sharply, catching her daughter's hand in mid-air at the very last second. Beth's fingers wiggled helplessly in her mother's tight grip, the flapjacks mercilessly out of reach. "Mind your manners now."
"But, Mama," Beth protested. She squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to free herself.
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Fabray apologized, her eyes taking the three other adult occupants of the table. "She really is a good girl. It's just that she can be such a handful when my husband's not around.
"Wait your turn, Beth," she went on, tucking her daughter's arm back down into her lap. "Let the young ladies serve themselves first. That is what's polite. And when you reach for your own flapjacks, do it with a fork. Other folks do not want your fingers all over their food."
Beth's bottom lip began to quiver. She looked as though she were about to explode. As quickly as possible, Brittany placed several large flapjacks onto her plate, and then scooted the platter along the table to Brittney. Though how on earth Brittany was going to eat she did not know. Her appetite seemed to have deserted her right along with her wits.
If it hadn't been for Mike Chang's timely appearance with their breakfast, Santana would have revealed to Mrs. Fabray that she and Miss Bennett were barely acquainted, had never even met one another until now, in fact. Information that was bound to arouse interest—and comment.
But Brittany didn't want her fellow passengers to know too many details about the situation between Santana and Brittney. The more interest the girls attracted, the greater the chance that someone would uncover their secret, their deception.
Pull yourself together, Britt, she chastised herself. Pay attention. Brittney's future happiness may be at stake. You have got to keep your wits about you. And for goodness' sake, stop letting this, admittedly beautiful, woman fluster you. Be confident, like you usually are and focus, for Brittney.
"How old are you, Beth?" she heard Santana ask from across the table.
"Six years old, ma'am," Beth answered in a subdued tone, suddenly a little shy at the adult's attention.
"That's a fine age to be," Santana replied warmly. "Just the right age to start helping your mother. I'm sure she must need your help, especially since your father isn't here."
Brittany paused, a flapjack-filled fork frozen halfway to her mouth. Santana sounded so prim! So proper! Perhaps she wasn't a fraud after all. Perhaps she was merely—
Boring!
Startled by her revelation, Brittany set her fork unceremoniously down on her plate with a clunk, her flapjacks momentarily forgotten. The word had slipped into her head so abruptly, so seemingly out of the blue, but she became more convinced that it was true, the longer she thought about it. Not only that, surely it was the perfect solution. Santana Lopez might not be Princess Charming, but she and Brittney could still live happily ever after.
Dull people were not dangerous. They weren't deceivers. How could they be? They lacked the initiative, the necessary impetuosity. Life with one might not be terribly interesting, it was true. But at least it would be safe and secure.
I don't need to worry about Santana's motivation in agreeing to marry Brittney, she realized suddenly. She doesn't have any. Santana had been content to be led, to be told what to do, probably by her own father, as Brittney had been by hers.
Brittany cast a glance at her friend in order to see if she had come to the same conclusions. However, if she had, Brittney gave no sign. Instead, she was pouring syrup on her flapjacks as if it was the most important act she had ever performed.
But, as she looked more closely, Brittany could see that Brittney's posture had relaxed. She still sat straight, but her spine was no longer as stiff as a board.
She's relieved, Brittany observed. She sees it too. Already their masquerade was bearing fruit. In fact, it was turning out even better than they could have hoped. They had learned an important piece of information about Santana Lopez's character already. Perhaps the most important piece.
The Latina might be a total stranger, but she wasn't dangerous in the least.
Brittany glanced across the table to where Santana was helping Beth cut up her flapjacks, tamping down on the startling, yet oddly wonderful, warmth that flared in her stomach at the sight. Now more than ever that one lock of hair threatened to spill into her eyes. But with the exception of that, absolutely nothing about Santana looked out of place. She probably didn't have an impulsive bone in her entire body.
Not at all the sort of person Brittany would choose for herself. Which is a very good thing, she told herself sternly as she lifted her fork once more, ignoring the pang of sadness that swept over her as she did so. Because she is never going to be your wife.
She looked over again at Brittney, to discover her friend watching the brunette through carefully lowered lashes.
Oh, yes. She definitely sees it too, Brittany concluded as she surveyed her blonde companion. Not only that, but her friend seemed quite taken by Miss Santana Lopez. I have to get her alone, Brittany thought. To see if she really agrees. There is no reason to wait until we get to Seattle. We know everything we need to know right now.
As far as Brittany was concerned, the sooner they told Santana the truth, the better.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! And, again, next chapter will be longer. Now that I'm not completely sleep deprived, I've got a more detailed chapter laid out in my little head for next time. ;)
