Hello! Man, I haven't updated this thing since last year! (Sorry, sorry that was lame I know but I couldn't resist!)
Here is me filling in the blanks for Ep 5- The First Time- and its the first of two chapters dealing with the episode. That's because I think the musical was actually really important to Santana, and it's an awesome opportunity to get more out of her character. I also want to build up to reasons why she is so mean (even for Santana) to everyone in Ep 6- Mash-Off.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you guys read. Thanks again so much for the interest and the reviews are making this so much more rewarding than I ever thought. (The most satisfaction I thought I'd get was being able to curl up in my own little Brittana world. But knowing and hearing that other people like it too is so awesome!) So keep em' coming! Also suggestions are welcome too!
Ch 9: The First Time
Santana never in a million years expected herself to be the person into whose arms a wailing Rachel Berry flung herself. Rachel had let herself go completely and Santana's muscles were a beat off being able to brace her , with a rustle of clothing and a clumsy 'oooff', Berry fell through the feeble resistance of Santana's limbs and sprawled onto the dusty stage floor at her feet.
Sniggers scattered across the people around them and Santana smirked as a grim faced Rachel got to her feet, dusting herself off briskly.
"Stop, stop!" Artie wheeled over to them, flapping a hand in annoyance.
"Rachel, I'll only say this one more time... The way your doing the whole...erm...crying thing...It makes you look like the guy I saw get hit by a bus when I was twelve. And not in a good way."
Rachel huffed. "I understand and respect your criticism. But seeing as you have never acted before I must point out and advise you that you really have be more accommodating to the physical manifestations of my deep, deep emotional connection to Maria's situation. "
Santana curled her lip in disgust. "You came at me like a freaking tropical storm and may I point out that while you're growth has obviously been stunted, you're still as heavy as a dead cow."
Rachel rolled her eyes and tsked. "And you call me dramatic," she said to Artie.
"That's because you are Rachel. It looks awful, you falling like a felled tree at Santana," snapped Quinn from where she stood with the rest of the Jets cast. Santana looked up to grin at her and ended up skittering her eyes over Brittany who was standing beside Quinn, frowning down at a half picked fingernail like it was the most intellectually engaging thing since the Fibonacci sequence.
The sound of Rachel wailing made Santana jump and she turned her eyes back to the situation in front of her. Rachel had begun pitch testing her sorrow with Artie shaking his head or nodding when he thought she'd gotten the right level of emotion. Santana stared at Rachel, becoming more and more convinced that she was actually insane. She'd decided during that evenings two hour rehearsal that Rachel Berry single-handedly disproved the phrase "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Before tonight Santana had actually been missing her daily dose of New Directions lameness. It was like that average candy that you'd never buy but when it's put in your Christmas stocking you get mildly addicted. But spending time Rachel had proved more than effective in curing Santana of any residual affection to that glee club.
Artie made them run through the scene several more times until Santana's back and arms ached from holding Rachel up. She was halfway through a mental murder plot when Miss Pillsbury approached the stage and warned Artie that the African Tribal Society needed the auditorium for a drum circle. Artie glanced at his Boba Fett wristwatch and nodded, signalling for them to stop. Santana unceremoniously dumped the still weeping Rachel back on the stage floor and turned on her heel, needing to put as much distance between herself and Berry before put she put her murder plot in motion and went loco on everyone's asses, including the poor unsuspecting Miss Pillsbury.
She was the first to collect her bag from the side stage and, fishing in the front pocket for her keys, she headed blindly for the exit doors.
At the threshold Santana stopped and let the fresh air hit her. She let it so deep into her lungs that it stung but her brain power kicked up a gear- away from the primal 'kill' level it had sunk to. She took a couple of steps towards her car and then stopped, frowning.
She'd forgotten Brittany.
She cursed and spun back to the entrance of the auditorium, wondering how the impending night home alone with Brittany could have slipped her mind.
When she re-entered the auditorium a bunch of people carrying drums were setting up in the centre of the stage. Off to one side watching them was Brittany, Mike, Artie and Tina. Britt was clutching her bag forlornly, looking like a little kid who was the last left waiting at the school gate after home-time. Santana felt a jerk of guilt inside her chest. She wasn't used to this whole girlfriend business.
She walked across the stage slowly, waiting for Brittany to look up from her conversation and spot her. But Mike was the one who looked up first and pointed. Brittany followed his gestured and when her eyes met Santana's her face brightened in a relieved smile.
"Sorry," Santana murmured, ignoring the others and approaching Brittany's side. "I had to get away before I castrated Berry."
"It's okay, Mike and Tina offered me a lift so it wasn't like I would have had to sleep on the piano like the last time I got stuck in here."
"Uh, right," Santana faltered. "Well, I'm here now so…" She jerked her head towards the exit.
"Bye guys!" Brittany called over her shoulder as Santana hooked their pinkies together and tugged her forwards.
"Uh, so that's a no to dinner then?" Tina called.
"Uhm." Brittany stopped and Santana followed suit, wheeling around to look from Brittany to the others.
"Dinner?" She raised her eyebrows at Brittany.
"Ah, yup." Brittany said. Santana caught the measured casualness in her voice. "Mike and Tina invited Artie and I to dinner tonight."
"My Mom's doing Asian style turkey," Mike explained.
"An old fave of ours," Artie said, grinning at Brittany. Santana flushed, annoyance stringing straight back through her nerves.
"Oh?" She worked to keep her voice calm and even. "You can go if you want."
Beside her, Brittany pulled a face and Santana knew she'd caught the test in her words. She shook her head.
"I would but San and I have plans."
Santana saw Tina's measure gaze flit back and forth between her and Brittany. "Oh, okay. Well, another time then?"
"Of course!"
"I'm gunna eat your share of the turkey Britt and not regret a thing!" Artie called as they headed for the exit.
"Have fun!" Brittany laughed back over her shoulder.
They didn't speak again until they were inside the stiff aired interior of Santana's car. Brittany sunk low in her seat and tilted the top half back with the lever. Santana noticed her movement and paused with her hand ready on the key to turn the car on.
"You tired?"
Brittany shook her head.
"You know you can go to Mike's if you want. Asian turkey doesn't sound like something that's offered to the world that often."
Brittany shook her head again and then tilted her chin upwards. Her the outline of her lips caught the wafting glow from the security light nearby. Santana's eyes drifted to them.
"What do you want to do?" She asked Brittany softly.
As an answer, Brittany titled her chin up further.
Santana hesitated, glancing out the darkened windows around them. The car park was littered with a few cars but Santana could see no movement. She turned her eyes back to Brittany, trailing them down her face, her neck, the curves of her chest. Santana twisted in her seat and leant against Brittany, pressing their lips together, wanting so badly to taste her, to have Brittany open up her mouth and spill very secret she'd ever kept, every word she'd ever spoken. Santana had the sudden realisation that she just couldn't get as close as she wanted to Brittany but she tried anyway, cupping her hands on either side of Brittany's face, coaxing her mouth open with her tongue.
With a sharp intake of breath through her nose Brittany responded to Santana's kiss, opening her mouth and curling her tongue hotly against Santana's. Santana groaned amidst their kiss and surged harder in her seat towards Brittany. She felt Brittany's hands curve around her jaw, anchoring their lips closer together. Santana drifted a hand down the swell of Brittany's breasts, shuddering in pleasure as she felt the faint jut of Brittany's hard nipple through her clothes.
After a few moments of this weightlessness, Santana began to feel breathless and lightheaded. She pulled away and leant sideways on her headrest, panting. Brittany frowned at her, her lips swollen from the intensity of their kissing. Santana felt a tug between her legs and had to close her eyes and shake her head.
"Hey," Brittany's voice was reproachful. Santana didn't open her eyes and she shook her head again.
"I can't handle you when you're like this."
"Like what?" Brittany asked. Santana opened her eyes and ran them all over Brittany's body.
"I-I want you," she said as an answer. Brittany smiled smugly and sidled closer.
"I want you too… obviously," she said huskily. Santana smirked, shaking her head for the third time.
"I want you. But not like this. I want you in my bed, with no one in the house to catch us. I feel like we're participating in the opening scene of some teenage spoof movie right now. Where the stupid bi-curious girls get their faces hacked off and their panties sniffed by the clumsy Screamesque serial killer."
As Brittany laughed Santana sat up and ignited the car engine. When she twisted to navigate her way out of the park she caught Brittany still turned sideways in her seat, still smiling at her.
"My bed." She repeated firmly, accelerating a little too abruptly from the park.
/
They crept up to Santana's room in the dark. The press of the silence and Brittany's body fumbling against her own excited Santana and when they got to her bedroom she could already feel they heavy press of arousal between her legs. She let Brittany move into her room first, and then she shut the door behind them and leant against it.
Her room was made up of shadows- dark forms that had once been her furniture. Somewhere to the left of her Santana heard the whisper of scattered clothing and something, though she could not say exactly what, glinted in the dimness.
Santana leant her head back against the cool wood of the door and closed her eyes, feeling her heart beat right through her body. She heard the soft padding of Brittany's footsteps, she felt the movement in the carpet beneath her feet. And then the long, warm press of Brittany's body was against her own, pushing it harder against the door. Keeping her eyes closed, her breath catching, Santana lifted her hands and placed them against Brittany's bare back- her palms fanning across the juts of Brittany's ribs. She felt Britt shiver against her at the touch.
"Still not regretting giving up the turkey?" Santana whispered, bending her head to brush her lips against Brittany's neck.
"Not one bit," Brittany whispered back.
"It'd be better than being stuck here with me, surely. The company over there would have just be so. Freaking. Thrilling." Santana opened her mouth and swept her tongue over the spot she'd just kissed. Brittany groaned, tilting her chin so Santana had more room.
"I don't regret not going. I just think…." Brittany hesitated as Santana took a little of the skin on her neck in between her teeth and bit down gently. "That you...should be a little nicer to them."
Santana slipped her hands up and down Brittany's body, crushing her closer. She trailed open mouthed kissed up and down her neck, overwhelmed by the smell of her perfume.
"Mmm? Why on earth would I want to do that?"
"Because they're our friends. And if you were nicer then maybe they'd invite you places too."
"Those losers aren't my friends," Santana said dismissively. "They're like road cones- Useful and satisfying to run over but ugly and oddly shaped." She trailed her hands down to the curve of Brittany's butt, opening her palm against it and squeezing.
"This is the only friend I need," She murmured. Brittany's laughter vibrated in her throat against Santana's lips.
"You need friends that aren't body parts, silly."
"I believe they disproved that theory on the last season of MythBusters." Santana flicked the hair away from her face and bent back to Brittany's neck, but Brittany's hands caught around her jaw and tilted it back up until Santana could see her pouting.
"But didn't you ever get lonely? Even now, you're mean to like, everyone apart from me and Mr Tubs.
"That's because he's my homeboy. And um, urgh, why are we even discussing this?" She fanned her hands around Brittany's hips, shifting them flush against hers. Then she leant in to kiss her. Their lips met, but Brittany began to speak through the kiss.
"They would have invited you because I know that they like you. You're just a bit scary sometimes and people get intimidated."
"And that should concern me how?"
"Because, Santana," Brittany's voice was soft and slightly pleading. "You can't act like you hate them when we've all been through so much together and they are pretty much like family. "
"This is not happening." Santana held up a hand to stop Brittany's words and pushed past her, walking across the dark room and flopping on her bed. She glared back toward the door at Brittany's shadowy form.
"You really know how to kill the mood don't you?"
Wordlessly, Brittany walked over to the bed and sat beside her. Santana trailed her eyes over the bare skin of Brittany's back and the pales tops of her breasts curving into the black lace of her bra. Santana wanted to put her mouth there, but right now it was full of resentment.
Brittany, with all the insistence of a freight train, carried on talking.
"I just don't want you to get lonely or think that no one likes you because I know they do."
Santana blinked. "I'm not lonely. I have you Britt." Hoping that would be enough to get her off the subject, Santana curved closer and trailed a finger between the dip in Brittany's shoulder blades.
Brittany nodded slowly, her face turned solemnly down to her lap. "Uhuh, you do have me. But I shouldn't be your only friend and your girlfriend. Because then who will you brag to about tapping yo' fine missus?"
Santana shrugged. "I can brag to you can't I?"
"Yeah but. It's not the same. And besides, I want...You know...I want you to be nice to people so they'll invite you places so I won't have to go alone." Brittany looked sideways at Santana, sticking out her bottom lip.
"I'm not ready for everyone to know yet."
"No, I know. That's not what I meant. It's just that when Artie and I were dating w-"
The rise of anger was so sudden within Santana that she frightened herself. She dropped her hand from Brittany's back like she'd been shocked and she flinched violently away.
"Can we just stop fucking talking about this?" She snapped loudly.
Brittany stared at her, wide-eyed. Santana bit her lip and vaulted her eyes to the ceiling to stop the tears. She regretted swearing at Brittany the moment it had formed on her tongue. But she was still angry. So angry. She didn't apologise.
The silence seemed to create a gulf between them.
In a small voice Brittany finally said: "Yep, okay. We can."
"Urgh." Overwhelmed with annoyance Santana flopped back on the bed and turned her back to Brittany, laying on the very edge of the mattress. She stared so hard into the dark that the shadows began to swim. After a while she felt the mattress shift and then the warm length of Brittany's body was pressing along her back.
"I'm sorry." Brittany's whisper scattered across her ear, making a few wisps of hair tickle the side of Santana's nose.
In angry impulse, Santana shrugged her away.
"Don't."
"San…"
Santana ignored her, shifting further still towards the edge of the bed. The frustration and anger curdled too violently within her to just lay still so she vaulted off the bed and went to the bathroom, sitting on the close lidded toilet trying to stop her insides boiling. Then she brushed her teeth and pressed a cool flannel to her face, avoiding looking in the mirror.
When she slipped back inside her room she could make out Brittany's shape under the blankets with her back turned to the door. Santana stripped off her clothes and shrugged on a tank she found on her floor then she climbed in her bed beside Brittany, her back to her. She breathed in the cool mint of her toothpaste, trying hard not to feel all the doubts worm their way into her ear drums until they had filled her head.
The dark began to whisper to her.
Brittany did have a point.
You have no one else.
It was her way of telling you she's sick of you.
You're such a clingy girlfriend.
Finish this sentence: "When Britt and Artie were dating…"
She was happy. She was social. She didn't have to sneak kisses in a deserted parking lot and hold hands under napkins.
When Britt was dating Artie she was in a real relationship.
Santana felt panic rise in her throat like bile, her eyes snapping open to the gloom of her bedroom. She took several shallow breaths, trying to ignore the rising pressure of tears in her chest. She sniffed, once, twice, and then rolled over to her other side.
Brittany was facing her in the dark and it made Santana start. She hadn't heard her move. In a tentative, gentle way that made Santana ache, Brittany reached across and smoothed the hair off Santana's face.
"You're really beautiful." She whispered. Santana closed her eyes as the words came to her across the space between their faces. "Don't be scared to be nice. Show them the person you show me, that's all you have to do."
Santana screwed her eyes closed harder as the tears came. She sniffed again.
"Next time they ask you to go out to dinner or something then I want you to go, okay? They miss you." She met Brittany's eyes, "and...I'll try to be a bit nicer. But I draw the line a Berry. And at Finn."
Brittany's grin shone in the dimness. "I don't blame you. They are the real life Jessie and James from Team Rocket."
"Team…" Santana frowned.
"Pokémon," Brittany clarified, wiggling across the bed until she could fold Santana into her arms. Santana shifted too, pressing her face into the soft skin at the tops of Brittany's breasts. She inhaled and felt a tug of arousal at the scent of Brittany's faintly perfumed skin.
"Do you remember that Christmas your parents got you that Pokémon Game Boy game and you took it to school and played it under your desk in class?" she asked. Brittany's cheek was pressed against the top of Santana's head so she felt the muscles move when Brittany grinned.
"Yeah. Pokémon Red. I still have it somewhere."
"You named one of your Pokémon after me." Santana recalled, tilting her head up to see Brittany smiling, her eyes slightly unfocused as she remembered.
"Mmm, yeah, I did. Charmander."
"Yeah, that's the one." Santana settled her face back into the crease of Brittany's neck.
After a pause, Santana felt Brittany shift and then one of her hands was tugging gently at the hem of Santana's tank. Santana raised her eyes again, smirking. But Brittany's gaze went passed Santana's face, down to the outline of her breasts peaking over the top of her shirt.
"Oh so you've just realised you'd like to do more with our night alone than bug me about glee club?"
"Mhmmm," Brittany didn't look away from Santana's cleavage and her hand climbed higher. Santana tsked and reach down to grip Brittany's elbow, pulling her hand out from underneath her top. Then in one fluid motion Santana used her body weight to shift Brittany on her back and straddle her hips, clutching both of Brittany's wrists above her head.
"Did I say you could touch me?" Santana said huskily. Beneath her, Brittany pouted and shook her head. Santana's smirk grew wider. She bent down until their breasts were hard up against one another's and Santana's lips were at Brittany's ear.
"Raise your hips," She commanded. Brittany's lips parted and a gush of air shot out. Then, Santana felt movement beneath her as she obeyed.
Santana wriggled down, hooking Brittany's underwear in her index fingers and dragging them along with her. She got the end of the bed and flicked them off Brittany's feet. Then Santana raised her eyes to what she'd uncovered. Brittany was so perfect down there that it made Santana ache. Santana's eyes took her in, wishing it wasn't so dark in her room.
She lifted her eyes to Brittany's face. Her expression was tense. Maybe reading into Santana's look, maybe nervous to be completely bare in front of her. Maybe impatient. She had her hands gripping Santana's forearms, her fingernails digging into the skin.
Impatient, Santana decided.
Santana trailed her own fingers down Brittany's thighs, tracing the faint twist of veins that stood out on her pale skin. Santana's had never been so pronounced and Brittany's amazed her. It was like her body was giving Santana a map to decipher all its twists and turns, all it's wonders. Santana trailed her lips after her fingertips until the both met the soft folds between Brittany's legs. Santana shifted her hands up to cup the juts of Brittany's hip bones, anchoring them in place. Then she shuffled her body until she was lying on her stomach. She turned her face up and kissed Brittany's folds. Underneath her palms, Brittany's hips shuddered. Santana heard her groan softly further up the bed.
Santana opened her mouth and parted the folds with her tongue as Brittany shifted her legs further apart.
Santana felt her insides turn into a jumbled, throbbing mess as the taste of Brittany's wetness met her tongue. She curled it upwards and moved back and forth against the ridges of Brittany's clit. Brittany's shaking hands were tangled in Santana's hair, guiding her closer. With her hot wet folds all round Santana's face she could hardly take in anything else. The bed could have vanished and Santana wouldn't have noticed. Even Brittany's moans seemed far away.
Santana moved her tongue against Brittany until her jaw ached and Brittany squirmed beneath her in pleasure. She tasted Brittany until she was sure it would linger in her mouth forever. She wished it would. Dimly, she felt Brittany's hands curve around her upper arms, pulling her upwards. Confused, Santana frowned into her face.
"Please," Brittany said hoarsely, tugging Santana's hand back down between her legs. With a hot rush across Santana's nerves she realised what Brittany wanted. She shifted further up the bed, curving one arm underneath Brittany's shoulders, securing her rapid heartbeat against Santana's own.
Santana felt the breath leave her as she slid two fingers easily inside of Brittany, leaning down to kiss her so that Britt could taste herself on Santana's tongue.
"Harder." Brittany was clinging around her shoulders, breathing roughly in her ear.
They moved harder and faster against one another. Santana could feel nothing and everything all at once. She was burning and she hadn't even been touched. Their bodies curved against one another, fitting and flexing and arching.
They could have been dancing.
It was when Brittany stilled, her facial muscles flickering as the waves of pleasure crashed through her, that Santana realised dancing was what they'd been doing all along.