Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called The Brittany and Santana Show, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).
A/N: Here's the new chapter, folks! Sorry for the little delay, you can totally blame it on my friends (even 'though it wasn't that long, come one, the three or four fics I follow take up to months to be updated; so, be appreciative lol).
As always, this chapter goes out to: New Hampshire Badger, I don't want it to seem like I have a grudge with criticism. I really appreciate the pointers, even 'though I doubt this story is "big":) Anyhow, allow me to address your concerns. The slow pace of the story, well, I can't actually do anything to change that and I guess you really can't please greeks and trojans. I'm sort of OCD with being thorough, and I have a beef with plot holes and stuff that come out of the blue. So, my anal ways ultimately result to this. As for progression, I get what you're saying and I am sorry to frustrate you, but I like to think that emotional progress is still progress, and this story leans heavily on that. It's a mundane setting and tale, which I happen to love the best (you know, domestic backgrounds, day-to-day occurrences, unreaveling of feelings and emotions...); and because of that not every chapter will have a major event. It's a long story (and to people who are wondering, I estimate something around 25 chapters) and I've got to pace myself. As for the remark about Brittany's parents, I'm sorry, but you're kidding, right? 'Cause, it amuses me to think how that conversation would go. Something along the lines of: "No, my child, you cannot even consider the idea of moving on and trying to find some happiness again. I mean, your wife is in a coma and modern medicine says she won't wake up, but you've got to hold on to her. Just hold tight and sink, sink deep down to the bottom of depression river, even 'though you've got a child to look after and a long life ahead of you. I repeat, do not move on, sweetie." What sort of parents would do that? :( As for Brittany and Jenna's back story and how they came to be together and whatnot, I'll touch those issues at their own time in the future. Things will be clearer, its still very early in the story. Although I must say that this fic is all about Brittany/Santana, you can expect Jenna and interactions between all parts, but it will all be tied up to Brittany and Santana. After all, if Santana is avoiding running into the new wife, I can only assume Jenna is doing the same about the old wife, albeit perhaps for different reasons. Either way, it's awkward. And I will tap deeper into said awkwardness in the future. Last, but not least, I'm not sure exactly what question you were referring to, but I like to elucidate that Santana only felt sorry about her last vicious remark. The bunch of other stuff she said she stands by them; even 'though she's trying to respect Brittany's choices, regarless of understanding them or not. Jeez, I talk too much... Anyways, hope you keep reviewing. All feedback is awesome :)
This chapter is also dedicated to you ellowyntinuviel, 'cause you may hate me, but I totally digged your review. I think that means I'm a bit dysfunctional ;) And to Gongo, 'cause I'm a sucker for huge-ass reviews and yours made me quite content :D
Thanks for all the reviews :) You guys outdone yourselves this time! I completely appreciate the support.
Alright, enough with the talking. Enjoy 'Chapter Eight'! It's very, *very* long :D
Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances
||Chapter Eight||
Santana shared an amazing weekend with her daughter. Everything went down even more perfect than she had imagined. The little brunette girl also had the best time and only showed sadness when Brittany dropped by to pick her up Sunday evening. Zoey had missed her mommy, but she also didn't feel like parting ways with her mama. Especially since she seemed to have the Latina wrapped around her little finger. The weekend flew by, like all times do when you're enjoying yourself, and there stood Santana on that Monday morning: in front of Brittany's house saying goodbye to the blonde and their lovely daughter.
"But why do you have to go?" Zoey whined a bit, looking up at the Latina who stood beside Brittany as both women leaned slightly against the white picket fence.
"I told you I have to get something in New York so I can work at the hospital here, Z," Santana reasoned softly with her daughter.
"Can't you get it here?" the blue-eyed girl countered, and Brittany smiled at her daughter's stubbornness. It totally reminded her of Santana.
"I can't, sweetie," the Latina replied apologetically, looking at Zoey in the eyes. "But I promise to call you every day before you go to bed so you can tell me everything that happened in your day. How does that sound?" she added, trying to sound excited so Zoey could do the same.
Zoey seemed to be pondering the idea and Brittany and Santana exchanged an amused grin. Their daughter was indeed a character. "Only if you teach me that 'canball' jump," the kid stated wearing a serious face.
Both women laughed out loud at Zoey's misspelling. "Alright, Miss Pierce-Lopez. You drive a hard bargain but I think I can arrange some more cannonball lessons," Santana said in her best mock serious tone as she raised an eyebrow for effect.
"So," the brunette doctor started, shifting her gaze towards Brittany, "I bought a new cell phone this weekend," Santana added, taking the thing out of her leather jacket's inside pocket along with a piece of paper, "Here's –"
Brittany cut her off by saying excitedly, "Oh, take my picture so I can pop in your screen when I call you."
"Are you serious?" Santana asked pointedly, shaking her head. To which the dancer just nodded vehemently.
And Zoey quickly piped in with the same excitement, "I want to be in it, too." Like mother, like daughter; the brunette thought with amusement as the kid jumped all over Brittany.
Giving in, Santana said while unlocking her screen, which already was a picture of a grinning bathing-suit-clad Zoey, "Ok, say 'New York rules'," and she took the picture after Zoey actually repeated the ordered words. They all checked the end-result photo with smiles and the Latina quickly set it to Brittany's number.
Putting the device back into her pocket, and still holding the piece of paper, Santana continued saying while the blonde put the kid down, "As I was saying, here is my new number," she handed Brittany the piece of paper, "and the number of the hotel I'll be staying in, you know, in case you need to reach me."
"You won't be staying with Quinn and Rach, or Jimmy?" Brittany inquired absentmindedly as she skimmed through the info on the paper scribbled in the brunette's familiar handwriting.
Zoey started to run across the blonde's small front yard since the conversation took a dull turn to the kid.
"Well, I wouldn't want to, you know, cramp Jimmy's style," Santana replied with a smirk. "And I really can't handle Berry 24/7, I just can't," she added, looking mildly disturbed by the thought.
Getting flashes from their talk in front of the fireplace, which had been plaguing her the whole weekend, Brittany spat out sort of bitterly and with a scoff, "And you wouldn't want the two of them to cramp your style, right?"
The brunette doctor brought her head back a little as she narrowed her eyes slightly to stare at the blonde dancer. She had to admit, Brittany had some nerve. "Maybe," Santana replied with defiance, holding back on her temper. "Why? Something wrong with that?" she added with a smug grin, turning the tables on the blue-eyed woman. A part of the Latina still enjoyed taunting Brittany with jealousy. She couldn't help it.
Thoughts of Santana rolling around with Evelyn entered her mind, and Brittany could feel her cheeks getting heated. She hated feeling jealous, and yet she couldn't do anything to stop it nor to stop the brunette doctor. She had no hold of her, and it pained as much as it annoyed her.
"Not at all," Brittany lied through her teeth with a spiteful tone in her voice, holding Santana's stare uneasily. And she mentally begged the Latina couldn't see the truth written all over her face.
Santana could tell easily that Brittany was lying, but she was enough of a lady not to call the blonde on it. Besides, it could potentially backfire and wind up being just as awkward for her as it would be for the dancer.
"Alright, then," Santana said instead, wearing a smug smile that told the blue-eyed woman the whole tale that she had been found out. You see, if Santana could read Brittany, the blonde could just as well read the Latina.
"You could stay at the duplex, 'though," Brittany said while running a hand through her soft hair, eager to change the subject.
"You didn't sell the apartment?" Santana asked with surprise while looking at Zoey skipping around energetically. She had totally thought the dancer had sold it.
"Of course not," the blue-eyed woman replied just as surprised that the Latina would think such a thing. And then she added, looking at Zoey a few feet away, "Don't climb that, baby." The girl pouted but stopped.
"Well, honestly, I for one don't want to enter that place ever again," Santana stated firmly after a silent beat, wearing her trademark stoic façade but unable to hold the blonde's searching gaze. "I think we should sell it. Jimmy has that realtor friend, I'm sure he can handle the sale for us," the brunette finished with purpose, finally driving chocolate eyes to blue ones.
Brittany was completely taken aback. "Why wouldn't you want to go back there?" the dancer asked softly and weakly, feeling a bit confused and, well, sad with the doctor's coldness. After all, they had spent so many wonderful moments in that duplex. Oh, Brittany thought; finally understanding it.
Santana just looked at the blue-eyed woman and that look alone conveyed everything Brittany had just realized. The dancer half-smiled and nodded, making the Latina understand that she had got it.
"I'll arrange everything with Jimmy's friend, and when the sale comes through we split it 50-50," the Latina said, stuffing her hands into her jeans' pockets.
"You paid for more than half," Brittany countered seriously, clearly not willing to take any unfair advantages.
"Barely, but we've never kept score before," Santana replied simply just as quick, holding the blonde's gaze with determination.
"No, we haven't," the blue-eyed woman said softly, flashing the brunette a sweet, knowing smile.
"We're not about to start, are we?" the Latina asked just as softly, matching the dancer's smile.
"No, we aren't," Brittany replied in the same fashion as before, broadening her smile and shaking her head slowly. Clearing her throat to dissipate their moment, she added stuffing her own hands into her jeans, "So, when is you flight?"
"1:15 in the afternoon," Santana said, grinning at Zoey who was just grinning at her from afar.
"From Columbus or Dayton?"
"Dayton."
"I'll drive you," Brittany offered with a smile.
"Thanks, but Maggie's already taking me," Santana replied instantly, her resolve should not be forgotten as tempting as it was. "She has to buy Danny an anniversary gift anyway, and God knows this shithole has only, well, shit," the brunette finished scornfully.
"It's not that bad, San," Brittany tried to reason with the brunette, who merely shrugged in response. "So, uh, while you're out, do you want me to water your plants or, I don't know, pick up your mail or something?" the blonde added, changing the subject.
"I'll be gone for a week, B, not a year," Santana replied with an easy chuckle. "Besides, Rosa is starting today, she can do all that stuff," the brunette added offhandedly.
"Right, I forgot she was starting today," the dancer said through a wide smile. "Maybe I'll drop by to say 'hi'. I miss Rosa," she added wistfully, thinking back to simpler times of yore.
"I'm sure she'll love that," the Latina replied genuinely, matching the blue-eyed woman's smile. Looking at her watch, Santana added, "I should probably be going. I still got a few things to pack," and Brittany nodded.
"Zoey, come say bye to your mama," the blonde called out to the playing kid, who came back in a rush, launching herself onto the brunette.
"Whoa, you'll topple me over, kiddo," Santana said through a chuckle, holding on close to their daughter. "So, it's time for me to go, mi hija," she added in slightly rushed tone, face to face with the little girl.
"Already?" Zoey asked with those big blue eyes staring right into the Latina's, and it pulled on the woman's heart like nothing else. Santana felt tongue-tied, so she just swallowed hard and nodded.
"I'll miss you very, very much, baby."
"I'll miss you more."
"Impossible," Santana replied resolutely with a wide smile, kissing the girl's neck and causing a string of giggles from the little one. Brittany couldn't help but grin while Santana put Zoey down.
"So…" the brown-eyed woman began with uncertainty, looking at the blonde.
"So…" Brittany replied in the same tone, and Zoey watched the scene like it was a tennis match, looking from her mama to her mommy. Right then the dancer stepped forward, leaning in to hug Santana, but yet again the Latina outstretched her hand. Brittany looked at the offered hand and then back at the brunette. That time 'though she wasn't about to play along. So, the dancer ignored Santana's hand and flung her arms around the doctor's neck.
The quick movement took Santana by surprise and she felt the warmth from the blonde's body reverberate through her own. Brittany wrapped the petite brunette tightly and said softly in her ear, "Call or text me when you land. So I know you touched down safely."
After a few seconds Santana's limp arms managed to come back to life. She lifted one shy hand and placed it lightly on Brittany's small back. Then the Latina swallowed and replied, "I will."
Pulling back she flashed Brittany a small smile, and she looked down at a smiling Zoey, patting the girl's head. Brittany looked at how the sun hit the perfect tan skin of Santana's face and she couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the brunette was. Wearing nothing but a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt, a fitted black leather jacket and a big turquoise scarf, the Latina looked like she was adorning an Oscar de la Renta gown. That's how ridiculously good she could work a mundane outfit. And it pained the blonde to realize Santana would be hitting the world again, back in the market for anyone smart enough to grab her. Why life had to be so cruel? The blue-eyed woman mused inwardly.
"Send my love to everyone," Brittany said, shaking off her unpleasant thoughts and unable to contain a sigh, to which the Latina nodded.
They said their final goodbyes; Santana got into the Range Rover and went to her parents'.
Santana walked through the gate at JFK and immediately spotted the petite blonde and brunette smiling at her. She went to them and received a tight hug from both Quinn and Rachel.
"How was your flight?" Rachel asked in her trademark high-pitched tone.
"It was alright," Santana replied offhandedly, clutching her big purse's straps.
"I hope you didn't eat anything on the plane 'cause we were planning on a late lunch before our shopping spree," Quinn stated through an easy smile.
"I didn't, plane food always makes me suspicious, and I'm one step ahead of you. I've already booked us a table at my hotel's restaurant," the brunette doctor replied matter-of-factly.
"You're not staying with us?" Rachel asked with surprise as they finally started walking to grab the Latina's luggage.
"No, I am not," Santana replied ceremoniously and in a weird theatrical tone. "I plan on getting me some sexy times this week, and I can't do that with you guys in the room, if you know what I mean," she added with a smirk and wink.
Quinn and Rachel exchanged a look as Santana watched attentively the luggage carousel.
"Are you sure you're ready for that, San?" Quinn asked with concern.
"Absolutely," Santana quickly and curtly put it to disguise her sheer uncertainty. From the look in her eyes you got a pretty good idea that she did not want to discuss the topic. "In fact, Jimmy already planned our nightlife while I'm here," she finished.
"Of course he did," Rachel piped in, crossing her arms across her chest. The Latina just glared at her from the corner of her eye.
They watched the luggage carousel in silence for a little while.
And then Rachel blurted out, "But what about Brittany?"
The brunette doctor couldn't believe what her ears were hearing. "Excuse me, Hobbit?" she asked indignantly, 'cause she was positive that she had misheard the petite brunette.
"I said, what about Brittany?" Rachel found the courage to repeat her question, looking Santana in the eye.
"Rach, it's not our place," Quinn scolded her wife whilst showering her with a death glare. They had agreed not to meddle and now the brunette was doing just so.
"It's ok, Q," Santana stated surprisingly calm, placing a hand on her blonde friend's forearm while looking at her. Then she shifted her cunning gaze to Rachel and said in the same tone, "Well, Brittany is no longer my wife. See?" the Latina rhetorically asked, raising her left hand that was wedding band-less. "In fact, she's got a whole new wife. What do you want me to do? Join a convent? I have to move on, ok? For Christ's sakes, it's been almost four years since I last got some!"
The three of them took in everything that had been said. Where the fuck is the luggage? The brunette doctor wondered.
Not having enough, Rachel said in a huff, "I thought you'd fight for her."
"Rachel!" Quinn admonished sternly. Her wife was out of control.
Looking Rachel in the eye, the Latina said honestly, "I know a losing battle when I see one. You both know Brittany," came her remark full of meaning, and all three got it. After a beat she added, "Besides, I have a daughter now. I can't just stir shit and wreak havoc. Brittany made her choice, now we both will have to deal with the consequences."
The three of them exchanged tense-filled looks, but also understanding looks. Santana spotted her luggage, which was way big for a week stay, and she made her way to get it. Quinn took the opportunity to scowl openly at her wife, who just shrugged in response. Rachel was concerned, she had to say something. Despite herself.
Santana came back rolling her bags. Quinn took the opportunity to lighten the mood by changing the subject to a topic she knew could bring any spirit up, "So, how is our goddaughter?" she asked beaming, and grabbing one bag from Santana's hold.
They started walking towards the exit while Santana said with a grin, "As perfect as ever. She sent you both drawings and asked me to tell you that she, and I quote, 'misses you lots, and lots, and lots, and lots'." The three women laughed out loud. Then Santana added, "Brittany sent her love as well," and she pulled her cell out to send a quick text to the blonde. She had promised, after all.
To: Brittany
Just landed in NYC. Am well and alive, just so you know.
Seconds later the reply came and Santana slid to read it.
From: Brittany
Glad to hear it! :) Zoey and I miss you already :(
Reaching the street outside Santana exclaimed, taking in a deep breath, "Ah, New York's polluted air! How I've missed you." Quinn and Rachel just smiled at their friend's antics whilst they hailed a cab.
Santana quickly checked into her hotel, and the ladies were just about finishing their dessert after a fun and delicious lunch.
"I hate to eat and leave, but I really must get to rehearsal," Rachel said after wiping her mouth gently and placing the linen napkin on the table. "You're going to the show tomorrow, right?" she added, looking at Santana.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Santana replied with more than a hint of lightheartedly sarcasm, earning an eye-roll from the theater woman.
"You get this, honey?" Rachel asked whilst standing up, looking at her wife.
Before Quinn could answer Santana interjected, "I've got this."
"No way," the hazel-eyed blonde protested, looking from her wife to her friend.
"Way," the Latina joked with a smile. "And don't even bother fighting me, Fabray. You know I always wind up kicking your sorry ass," she added with a smug look on her face.
"In your dreams, Lopez," Quinn replied midst a sly smile.
"As much as I love to watch you two bicker, I really have to go. Honey, I see you back home, and Santana, I see you tomorrow."
"Hey, Berry," Santana called out to Rachel who had started walking towards the door and came to a halt to look back. "Break a leg," the brunette doctor added with an innocent smile.
"Aww, that's got to be one of the nicest things you've ever said to me, Santana," Rachel replied, touching her heart for emphasis. You could take the girl out of the theater, but you could never take the theater out of the girl.
"Literally," the Latina amended, morphing her innocent smile into a smug one and receiving a playful smack from Quinn.
Rachel huffed and from the distance narrowed her eyes at Santana. Then she resumed her walk out.
"Aww, I was kidding, Berry," Santana started, unable to muffle a laugh. "Come on, don't be like this," she added with mischief, and Rachel turned around one last time to playfully look at the doctor with exaggerated mock disdain before leaving the restaurant.
Quinn and Santana laughed at their own collective antics.
"So, are you ready for our retail therapy?" Quinn asked, taking a sip of her espresso.
"Oh, God! More than you can imagine. Seriously, how did I get stuck in Lima, Ohio, of all places? There's nothing decent in that shithole! I must be paying for my sins. It's got be it."
"Lord knows you have plenty of those."
"Hey!"
"Anyways, when are your medical practicals?" the blonde asked midst a smile while Santana ate a spoonful of chocolate soufflé.
"Every morning from tomorrow until Thursday," Santana replied matter-of-factly.
"Are you nervous?" Quinn asked with interest, taking a bite of her petit gateau.
"Not really," the brunette plastic surgeon said dismissively and the blond nodded.
"Are Jimmy and you out to party tonight?"
"No, not today. Today I just want to rest after our therapy session. I'll meet him tomorrow for lunch 'though, after I'm done with the board. And later I'll visit everyone at the practice, you know, before the four of us go out for some dinner and theater," Santana replied, using Jimmy's British accent to say that last bit.
"Let's see if it's really the four of us. I hope Rachel can make it, she's been really busy lately," Quinn replied, trying to smile but Santana could see that it didn't reach her hazel eyes.
"Oh, oh, trouble in midget paradise?" the Latina playfully asked, trying to lighten up the mood as she put her espresso cup down.
"No, I've just been missing her lately, that's all," the blonde put it in a very blasé way.
"Are you sure?" Santana pressed and Quinn nodded her confirmation. The brunette doctor decided not to press, after all, she hated when people did that to her. If the blonde wanted to talk she would be there, more than ready.
"So? Ready to hit some boutiques?" Quinn asked with excitement.
"Not 'some'. All of them," Santana replied eagerly with a devilish grin.
"You so wants to getz your shopping on," the hazel-eyed woman teased the brunette with a smug grin.
"I'm never gonna live that down, will I?" the doctor said with playful frustrated resignation. "Even if I haven't spoken like that since… I don't know… high school." Quinn merely shook her head. "Well, you better watch it, Fabray; I still got plenty razorblades in my hair and I will cut you, bitch," she threatened lightheartedly.
Quinn shook her head again with a laugh and let out condescendingly, "Maybe it's time you drop the razorblades talk, too, you know?"
Santana and Quinn perused the umpteenth boutique with many, many bags in hand.
"You have to buy this, S," Quinn stated, holding up a fancy red top.
Santana looked at it and brushed her fingers against the material while the blonde held it. Then she asked, "Don't you think there's too much cleavage?"
Both women looked at one another and burst out laughing. Yeah, right, like there was such a thing as too much cleavage!
"Totally buying it," the Latina said after a beat, taking the item from Quinn's hand.
"So," the hazel-eyed woman started with caution, "how was your reconciliation talk with Britt?" she finished with a more assertive tone.
Santana looked sideways at her friend with suspicion, and then she replied dryly, "We've talked several times on the phone after that and you wait until we're face to face to ask me? Are you trying to corner me, Fabray?"
"No?" Quinn answers weakly. "No," the blonde added, changing her intonation. "I just want to make sure you're ok, San," she finishes sincerely, smiling softly at the brunette.
Giving in after a few seconds the Latina said softly, "We both said we were sorry and that was that."
"What exactly did you say to her, Santana?" Quinn asked, and then quickly added to buff her previous question, "Here, this overcoat is cute. You should try it, too." Upon receiving a scowl from her friend the blonde amended, "What? I need to know the details if I'm going to help you here."
"No one asked for your help," Santana snapped whilst taking the overcoat from the rack, and received an unimpressed glare from Quinn. "Fine, I told her that I shouldn't be surprised she wouldn't ditch her wife since she couldn't do it to a boyfriend in high school," the brunette doctor relayed and Quinn listened attentively. "And then I added, 'no, wait, unless your wife'…" the Latina mumbled her speech, rendering it impossible for the blonde to hear it.
"Unless your wife what?" Quinn asked in confusion, furrowing her brows. "Speak up this time, Santana."
Santana gritted her teeth and sighed in frustration, but then she said loud and clear, "I said, 'unless your wife is stuck defenseless in a hospital bed'. And like it wasn't enough, I added that I guessed that was where she drew the line," she finished with embarrassment.
Quinn's eyes went wide. "You didn't."
"I did. And that was when she slapped me in the face."
"She didn't."
"She did."
Shaking her head the blonde raised a hand to cover her mouth, and then she said softly, "Wow, it was ugly," and the Latina nodded, inspecting a pair of nude pumps, which she also picked up.
Santana sighed again and said sincerely, "I just feel like Rip Van Fucking Winkle stuck in a shitty Twilight Zone episode here. Everything is different and while everybody had four years to get used to everything I still feel like I'm stuck in 2007. I'm just doing my best here, you know?"
"I know, San. I know," Quinn said softly, placing a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "But you should know that Brittany didn't just up and moved on. Trust me, I was there. And there were a few, uh, occasions back then…" the hazel-eyed woman added gloomily, thinking back to those dark days and the Latina felt scared by the somber look that crossed her friend's eyes, "…that really scared me. Well, it's not my place to say anything further than that, but just ask Britt for the dvd of Zoey's birth that I shot. You'll get an idea of what I mean," Quinn finished in almost a whisper.
"What occasions, Quinn?" Santana asked with a bad feeling in her stomach.
"Really, San, it's not my place," Quinn pleaded with serious eyes and she could see that Santana would drop the questioning. "Listen, I can't even begin to fathom how hard this must be for you, but just try to walk in Brittany's shoes for a bit. See her side of things."
"Well, my own shoes already give me too many blisters, thank you very much," the brunette quipped with exasperation.
"Just bear in mind that B is just as moral as you are loyal," the petite blonde replied sweetly, trying to offer some insight that she knew the Latina already possessed, but perhaps forgot.
Santana took in her words and said playfully after a beat, "Complimenting me doesn't become you, Fabray," and the doctor smiled widely.
"Screw you, Satan," Quinn shot back, unable to contain a grin. "Besides, you didn't let me finish. I was saying B is just as moral as you are loyal and stubborn."
"Now, that's more likely," Santana said through a smug grin, and then she changed the subject, "Ok, let's pay for these and do some shopping for my beautiful daughter. It's a pain to always carry a duffel bag from Britt's to my place anytime the kid stays with me. She has to have a wardrobe at my parents'. Have I told you I'll be making a room for her there?"
"Only ten times," Quinn teased her friend. "But, seriously Santana, my fingers are starting to turn blue from all these bags."
"Well, until they turn black or fall off you're fine, Q," Santana teased the blonde back.
Santana lay idly in bed watching the New York City evening landscape through her hotel suite's floor to ceiling glass wall. The feel of the hotel's fluffy white bathrobe against her skin made her relax. Looking at the clock on her nightstand she decided it was time to call her daughter, it was time to call Zoey. And the thought alone was enough to bring a smile to the Latina's face.
Grabbing her cell phone from the nightstand she unlocked the screen and touched it a couple of times to make the call to Brittany's cell phone. After three rings the blonde picked up.
"Hey, San!" Brittany said with enthusiasm as she stood behind her kitchen's small island.
"Is that mama?" Zoey almost shrieked from the dinner table in front of the island, to which the blonde dancer just nodded in confirmation. Jenna sat beside the little girl.
"How is New York so far?" the blue-eyed woman added in question while Zoey stood up from the table with incredible velocity.
"Oh, you know, it's been its usual amazing self," Santana quipped lightly, causing the blonde to smile. "Can I speak to Zoey?" she added quickly and Brittany couldn't help but feel a bit snubbed.
Zoey was already tugging on Brittany's arm, the one that held the device. "Well, good to know," she said to the Latina, and then turned her look down to their daughter, "One second honey, be patient," the blonde said softly to the kid. "San, I'll put her through, ok?" the blue-eyed woman finished, passing the cell to Zoey.
Jenna watched the scene with less enthusiasm than the other two ladies.
"Hey, mama!" Zoey almost screamed through the speaker and Santana winced a bit with a grin on her face on the other side of the line.
"Not so loud, sweetie," Brittany, who was attentively watching their conversation from Zoey's side, told her daughter and the Latina heard it as well.
"Hi, baby," the doctor said in a sweet tone. "How are you?"
"Good, I miss you already," Zoey stated and Santana could even visualize the pout.
"I miss you too, Z, but I'll be back in a flash, you'll see," the Latina replied, feeling her heart swell a bit. "So, how was your day today? How was school?"
"It was fun, Grace and 'me' started to dig a hole in the playground 'cause her big brother told her that if you dig deep enough you find China. I don't know what that is, but Grace said he told her is a cool city," Zoey started to babble and Santana and Brittany laughed at the same time. "We haven't found it yet, but we'll keep digging tomorrow. And Troy Adams peed his pants. Russ made fun of him and everyone started laughing too, but Miss Miller said it wasn't nice to laugh at your friends. So, everyone stopped. I 'drawed' a flower, and you and 'me' swimming in your pool. And that's all," she finished with a wide grin, finally catching a breath.
"Wow! Sounds like you had a busy day, kiddo," Santana told her, shifting a bit to readjust her stack of pillows. Zoey hummed her confirmation.
"When are you coming back, mama?" the blue-eyed girl asked softly, and Brittany couldn't help but run a hand through her daughter's silky brown hair with empathy.
"Just a few more days, Z," the Latina said softly. "Aunts Quinn and Man-hands sent you a big kiss," she added lightly, trying to cheer up the little girl.
"Who's Aunt Man-hands?" Zoey asked with curiosity, and Santana heard Brittany's voice loud and clear as the blonde scolded her, "Santana!" And then she heard the dancer tell their daughter, "It's Aunt Rachel, honey. Don't listen to your mama." The Latina couldn't help but snicker at that, and Jenna just shook her head getting back to her sandwich.
"Did you give them my drawings?" the kid asked, quickly ignoring the whole situation.
"I did, and they loved it. They said they were so pretty that they would put them on the fridge's door, just like I did with some you gave me in the hospital."
Zoey beamed with pride. She loved her praises. The kid looked up and saw that her mommy wanted the phone.
"Mommy wants to speak to you. I love you mama!"
"I love you more, baby! Sweet dreams, ok?"
Taking the cell from her daughter Brittany told the little girl, "Finish your dinner, baby." And then she asked Santana with a smile, "How was the reunion with Q and Rach?"
"Fun," Santana said shortly. "I kinda missed them," she added softly in an unforeseen moment of openness with the dancer. Crap, she couldn't help it; the brunette doctor thought.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Brittany replied just as softly. She missed their friends too... Very often. After a beat she added less somberly, "Are you doing something tonight?" God, why did she have to care so, so much? The blonde mused. And Jenna's ears subtly picked up on the conversation.
"Nah, today I'll just stay at the hotel to rest," the Latina informed. It felt so natural to talk to the blonde. She couldn't help it. "Tomorrow night the four of us will be getting dinner and going to see Dwarf's play, 'though," she added flatly, playing with the tv's remote control with her free hand.
"Hmm, sounds nice," the blue-eyed woman replied softly and bitter-sweetly. Once upon a time it was always the five of them. Or six, if Jimmy happened to bring one of his random dates.
"But after tomorrow it will be all party, sister," Santana informed playfully and teasingly. "You still won't give me that woman's phone, huh?" the Latina added with a smirk. "What's her name again? God, I always forget it," she said, mentally giving her own head a slap.
"Evelyn," Brittany replied, rolling her eyes. And then dropping her voice she added, "And no, I won't give you her number. You deserve better."
"Hmm, whispering now, aren't we?" the brown-eyed woman said, raising an eyebrow. "Ah," she added tauntingly, "…is wifey around? I bet she is, huh? What? Scared she will get the wrong idea? I mean, I would if my wife started cockblocking her ex. So, give me that number, Britt," Santana finished with a smug look on her face while the blonde rolled her eyes. Santana could be so annoying. Especially when she was right, her brain added, but the blonde shut down the idea.
"You can try all the wrong, low blows you wish Santana, but as a friend I cannot give you Evelyn Hearst's phone number," Brittany replied lowly trying to sound stern, but failing at it. Her low tone also betrayed her.
…
"Evelyn. Evelyn Hearst," the lean brunette in a maroon gown said huskily.
"Right, Evelyn. I'm terrible with names, but I swear I had yours at the tip of my tongue," Santana quipped with a forced smile, lying through her teeth. She didn't remember the woman's name at all, and she had been extremely distracted by the hot looks Brittany was showering her with from the distance right above Evelyn's right shoulder.
"As I was saying I love his gowns as well. I myself own at least three by him. I mean, look at you! The design hugs your perfect body in all the right places," Evelyn subtly replied, plastering a sultry smile on her face. Santana tore her gaze from Brittany a little and caught sight of Rachel beckoning her over. Shit, the Latina thought.
"I hate to leave…" Santana began to say, wrecking her brain to recall the green-eyed woman's name, "…Evelyn," the Latina thanked the gods, "but my annoying friend is calling me. I'd love to ignore her, but I stupidly made eye-contact and now it's too late. Will you excuse me?" the doctor politely said, and Evelyn sadly nodded.
"What Berry?" Santana asked curtly, catching Brittany's eye from the distance yet again, which brought a smile to her earlier scowl.
"Oh, Santana! I wanted to introduce you to my theater friend, Gary Jenkins," Rachel said in her usual chipper tone, with a wide grin on her face.
"That's it?" Santana replied dismissively and Rachel nodded.
"Well, nice to meet you Gary," the Latina said briefly, and then she added, "I'll go talk to Britt, excuse me." Seriously, was she surrounded by tools? The doctor wondered.
From the corner of her eye she saw that Brittany was still talking to a couple. Probably schmoozing like there was no tomorrow. She didn't know how her wife could do it. Santana could never blow smoke up anyone's ass. However, she knew that Brittany did it for the kids; it wasn't like the dancer loved the thing. Spotting a waiter bearing champagne, she walked his way in her sexy strapless black gown and snatched a flute. Then she slowly made her way to the ballroom's giant glass wall and began to study the night skyline.
After quickly finishing her flute, she felt a pair of soft arms wrap around her waist, and a chin touch her shoulder. She smiled at the contact, enveloping the other person's arms with hers.
"Tired of kissing self-righteous, snobby asses?" Santana playfully asked, turning around to face her wife and being met with a drown-out kiss.
"Ah, you know I never get tired of kissing your ass, babe. Literally," Brittany quipped back with a smirk on her face, making the Latina grin. The blue-eyed woman was wearing a beautiful one-shoulder emerald green silk gown.
"I don't know how you and Quinn can stomach it," the brunette stated, placing the empty flute on a passing waiter's tray.
"For the kids, babe."
Santana flashed her a smile. She knew the blonde well. "Yeah, that's what I figured."
Evelyn approached the two women with a wide smile.
"Santana," she greeted with enthusiasm, and then she looked at the blonde and added, "…and Brittany. Lovely event you've got here. Like I was telling Santana earlier, we can never give enough for the kids' dance program. Right, Santana?" Evelyn finished with a grin, resting her heavy gaze on the Latina.
"Right, uh…" Santana began to say awkwardly and mentally cursed her mind for never committing the woman's name.
"Evelyn," Brittany came to the rescue and added with grace despite the fact that the tall brunette was practically eating her wife with those green eyes, "thank you so much for the donation. We can always count on your generosity."
"Oh, don't even mention it," the green-eyed woman replied dismissively with an affected wave of hand. "You know, Santana, my friend Melanie Hendricks was talking about you the other day. She's extremely happy with the work you've done on her breast implants," the woman added whilst completely exposing her extra-white perfect teeth, focusing entirely on the plastic surgeon who felt confused by her wife taking hold of her hand in a weird brusque way.
"Oh, yeah, I remember Mrs. Hendricks. I'm glad she enjoyed the results," the Latina replied with a genuine smile.
"Enjoyed?" Evelyn scoffed with a laugh. "The woman was downright ecstatic! She says you have the magic touch," she added, and Brittany couldn't believe this woman. Flirting this openly with her wife right in front of her.
"I don't know about that. The secret is you can't overdo, you have to respect the body's proportion and nature. Otherwise it simply does not work," Santana explained with ease, she really did love her job. Bring more beauty into the world and make people love themselves more totally fulfilled her.
"Don't be so modest," Evelyn said promptly.
Brittany snickered a bit. None of the other women noticed, 'though. Yeah, right, 'modest' Santana; the blonde thought.
"After looking at you I can tell you've definitely got a magic touch," the green-eyed woman continued in a husk tone, making Brittany's blue eyes grow as big as saucers.
Clearing her throat, Brittany stated dryly whilst clutching to Santana's hand, "Aww, I love this song. I'm sorry, Evelyn, but if you excuse us I'll take my wife for a dance. What do you say, babe?"
"Sure," Santana replied with a big genuine smile, still a little puzzled by the look her wife was giving her.
Evelyn wore a dissatisfied look on her face as she watched the blonde dancer guiding the brunette plastic surgeon by the hand towards the dance floor. They quickly started swaying to the live band. Brittany had her arms around Santana's neck, and the Latina had hers wrapped around the blonde's waist.
"What?" Santana asked with curiosity, taking in her wife's weird gaze on her.
"Nothing," Brittany dismissed it, leaning in closer to nuzzle the doctor's neck.
After a while the dancer pulled back again and weirdly stared at the brunette once more.
"What?" the Latina reiterated her question, sounding extra confused with a raised eyebrow.
It took a while for Brittany's answer to come and she stated again, "Nothing." Before Santana could protest, 'though, she felt the blonde kissing her with passion.
Later that night, back at their duplex apartment, the ladies got ready for bed.
"I mean, can you believe the nerve of that woman?" Brittany asked, flabbergasted, stepping out of her gown while both women stood in front of their large bathroom mirror.
"I really don't think she was flirting with me, B," Santana countered, leaning forward against their double sink vanity while removing the remaining of her make-up in nothing but her black lace panties and bra.
"Please," the blonde scoffed, standing in front of her raised white sink in nude panties and bra. "She was eating you with her eyes, and 'oh, Santana, looking at you I can definitely see you have an amazing touch'," the blonde added while turning to her wife, adjusting her voice to sound like the green-eyed woman. Santana smiled wide, "It's not funny," the dancer chastised.
"Well, I think it is, babe. You're jealous, it's funny," Santana stated through a smirk, looking sideways at the blonde. "Especially since I can't even remember the woman's name," she paused a bit, "Not even now." Then she went back to make-up removal, and said playfully, "Oh, and it's 'magic touch', not 'amazing touch'. Just to be thorough," the Latina grinned with a tinge of satisfaction.
"If she was saying those things in front of me I wonder what scandalous propositions she was making when I saw you two talking alone," Brittany said in an outraged voice while putting her hair up in a bun, and redirecting her gaze to look at her wife through their wide shared mirror.
"She just said nice things about the dance program and asked me who I was wearing, there were no scandalous propositions," Santana quickly dismissed it, locking eyes with the blue-eyed woman on the mirror.
"Yeah, I can only imagine," Brittany said ironically.
"Don't you trust my word?" Santana countered lightheartedly and yet seriously.
"Of course I do," the blue-eyed dancer replied, turning to look at her wife without a proxy, and then she added with a sneer, "It's her I don't trust a bit."
The Latina dropped the cotton ball she was using to remove her make-up and went closer to her wife, wearing a no-good smile on her face.
"Well, there's no need for jealousy," the plastic surgeon barely whispered huskily, taking the dancer's left hand in hers and placing on her bare caramel shoulder. Brittany felt a powerful wave of tingles running through her body. Inching even closer, stomach against stomach, she hovered her head above milky shoulder blade and said into the blonde's ear, "'Cause nothing happened and never will happen. Can't you see?" Santana pulled back to meet blue eyes full-on, "You're the only one I want," the Latina added with a sweet sincere smile.
Brittany didn't know what had turned her on more: her wife's perfect words or her wife's perfect body combined with her smooth attitude. All she knew was that she was totally turned on.
Cupping Santana's cheek she started kissing her wife. Slowly for mere seconds, and passionately from then on. The Latina's hands found her waist, and hers found those dark soft locks, pressing against her neck to intensify the smoldering kiss. Brittany felt good to know that 'all that' belonged to her, and no one else. And vice-versa. She was all Santana's. Proudly so. That thought only enhanced the wetness between her legs. Suddenly the dancer grabbed Santana's thighs and brought the petite brunette up against her body, kissing her fiercely and with everything she got. With one swift movement the blonde placed the doctor on the cold surface of their vanity without parting their lips. The Latina yelped with both pleasure at the brusque action and shock from the cold material against her bare skin. Mid kiss Brittany pulled back abruptly, leaving Santana with puckered up and swollen red lips mourning the contact. The brunette looked at the blonde with inquisitive eyes.
"I'm taking a shower, babe," Brittany informed mischievously with a sly grin on her face, still holding Santana's hand whilst both of their arms remained outstretched by the small distance.
"Right now?" the Latina asked with wide eyes, baffled, to which the blue-eyed woman just nodded playfully and teasingly.
Brittany let go of Santana's hand. Then she turned around and seductively unhooked her strapless bra, letting it fall to the bathroom floor tiles. Santana couldn't help but stare at that perfect milky back, letting her eyes fall on those five freckles she had come to know better than any constellation up in the sky.
"You better join me," Brittany huskily demanded with a smirk, stealing a quick glance over her right shoulder whilst approaching the glass shower doors, pleased to assess her wife's 'state'.
"But I just took one, babe," the brunette countered with a hint of annoyance.
The dancer didn't even respond, she just slipped out of her nude panties and entered the shower, turning it on. Seconds later Brittany could feel a pair of tanned hands around her waist and an eager mouth on the back of her neck. The blonde just grinned wider and turned around to her gorgeous wife.
…
"Fine, if that's how you want to play I'll just ask Quinn," Santana said with a hint of satisfaction.
"You wouldn't!" Brittany reproached with as much surprise as suspicion.
"You know I would, and I am," the Latina stated defiantly with a smirk. "As lovely as this little chat has been I have to go to sleep now, Brittany. Medical board tomorrow morning," she added.
"Well, good luck," the dancer said sincerely, "I'm sure you won't need it, 'though," she added with a sweet smile, letting the other subject drop.
"Thanks, Britt. I gotta go. Bye."
"Bye, San."
They ended the call and Brittany felt… weird. Too many different emotions together. Zoey had just finished dinner.
"Go brush your teeth, baby," the blue-eyed woman said to her daughter, who got up and went to do what she was told.
Jenna was looking at her wife, and then she got up from the table with her empty plate in hand and made her way to the blue-eyed blonde.
"So, what was that all about?" the green-eyed woman asked offhandedly.
Brittany shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "Oh, nothing; Santana just wanted a phone number."
"And you didn't have it?" Jenna asked, passing her wife by to put the plate into the sink.
"I do, but I didn't want to give it to her," the dancer said honestly, turning around to face the smaller blonde.
"Why not?" Jenna asked curiously, furrowing her brows.
"Because that woman is totally wrong for her. She deserves better," Brittany replied matter-of-factly.
"Oh, it's a woman then?" Jenna asked, feeling a subconscious glint of happiness about the information. The blue-eyed dancer nodded in confirmation. "And why is she wrong for Santana?"
"Well, she's snotty for one," the taller blonde offered quickly with a sneer. "And self-entitled, bitchy, aggressive... To name a few."
Jenna absorbed the information for a while and then she replied, trying to be helpful while walking closer to her wife, "What about Paula? We could set something up."
Brittany laughed a little, shaking her head while she stated, "Uh, not Santana's type. I mean, San has a… how can I put it? A shallow side to her, if you know what I mean."
Jenna nodded, and tried once more, "What about Sara, then?"
Brittany thought back to Sara. Yeah, she was attractive, and that fact didn't sit well with the dancer. So, she replied nonchalantly, shaking her head again, "Nah, too…" she thought trying to find something wrong, "…too shady."
"Shady?" the green-eyed woman asked, doubtful, to which the taller blonde just nodded. "Uh huh… What about Deb, then? What's wrong with her?" she added with a tinge of annoyance.
Brittany thought for a while and said quickly, "She's just…" the dancer pondered but couldn't find anything, so she just added, "…too" and then she simply emitted a weird sound to substitute an actual word.
Jenna just shook her head in disbelief and stated in a huff, "Well, there aren't much more options around here, Brittany. I mean, who is good enough for Santana? Should we try to contact, I don't know, Kate Middleton?"
"Too princess-y," Brittany deadpanned after a silent beat in typical Brittany style while shaking her head. Jenna couldn't help but flash her wife the tiniest of smiles.
"What about you then?" Jenna dropped the smile and mustered up the courage to ask in earnest, looking straight into blue eyes. "Because I'm afraid that's the only person you'll find suitable."
Brittany was taken aback by her wife's words, but truth was she didn't want to think about them. "I'm married," she stated with a small smile. "To you," she finished with conviction.
Cupping the taller blonde's cheek Jenna said softly, "You know she is going to find someone eventually, don't you?"
"I do," Brittany replied, trying to conceal her sad tone while placing her hand over her wife's.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Jenna asked through a whisper. She was trying hard to be patient and understanding. The green-eyed woman understood the difficult position everyone in their complicated situation found themselves in, which didn't mean she didn't feel highly anxious, threatened and uneasy. She wanted to come out and ask her wife 'Do you still love her?' but she feared the answer too much to utter those words out loud. Ignorance was bliss.
Brittany didn't want to lie to her wife, but she didn't want to hurt her either. This whole thing was so messed up. So, the blue-eyed woman settled for answering, "It's really not my place to."
Jenna accepted her wife's answer and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the lips. After pulling apart the petite green-eyed blonde stated, "I'll put Zoey in bed, you start with the dishes and I'll come back to help after."
Brittany nodded with a smile and Jenna disappeared through the hallway. Starting off on the dishes the blue-eyed woman's mind couldn't stop turning its wheels.
Annie Pierce walked through the upstairs' floor on her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Passing by Brittany's old room she heard a tiny noise coming from the inside. The older woman decided to investigate the source of said noise, and gently pushed the door open, revealing a familiar body lying on the bed.
Inching closer in the dark Annie slowly took a seat at her daughter's bedside, instantly noting that the dancer was crying.
"Brittany, honey, what are you doing here?" Annie asked with concern, stealing a glance at the bedside clock that read 3:04 AM. "What happened? Is something wrong? Where is Zoey?" the older woman added curiously, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's midsection.
Brittany just lay there on her side with knees tucked close to her abdomen, letting the cascade of tears run down her hot pink cheeks to land on the decorative pillow.
Tired of waiting for an answer and growing increasingly worried, Mrs. Pierce asked again, "Britt, please, what's wrong, baby? You're scaring me. Did something happen to Zoey?"
Brittany shook her head 'no' and Annie felt a bit of relief. The older woman waited patiently for her daughter to talk to her and provide some insight. After a couple of minutes of rubbing comforting circles on the dancer's side it finally came.
"Zoey is back home. Jenna's there," it came absentmindedly in a low tone of voice. "She doesn't know I snuck out… Jenna." Small pause. "I… I needed to be here. Things… uh, things were so much simpler when this was my bedroom. When this was my bed. I wish I could go back," the young blonde finished dejectedly.
Annie looked sideways at her daughter, still rubbing the latter's side absentmindedly, and she could guess what was on her mind. Her heart ached for Brittany. Mrs. Pierce just sat there listening; she also could guess her daughter needed that at that moment.
After a moment Brittany added barely above a whisper, "Santana went to New York." It came as a sad, ominous statement, which wasn't exactly her intention. A long pause followed, and it was broken when she said, "She's moving on, mom. It scares me, and it hurts… I'm jealous, and I have no right to be. I've got all these feelings inside… and I don't, I don't know how to make sense of everything, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just so overwhelmed."
"Oh, sweetie," Annie said softly in her best comforting tone, caressing her daughter's tear-stained cheek. It killed Mrs. Pierce to watch her first born in that state. Brittany was always such a happy person. Sadness really didn't become her, it was simply unnatural.
"I don't want to hurt anybody, mom…" Brittany stated in utter honesty, looking at her mother in the eye through the darkness for the first time, "…but I don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do… to do what I have to do. But I need to be," the dancer added in desolation. "What should I do, mom? Please tell me what to do," Brittany finished in a pleading tone.
"I can't tell you what to do, sweetie," Annie replied softly. She wanted nothing but to help her daughter, to make it all magically okay, but this was something the older woman couldn't do at the moment. This was a situation Brittany had to figure out for herself. "You are the only one who can answer that question."
"Santana is… she is," Brittany started full of emotion, facing away from Annie a bit, "…Santana," the dancer added with adoration and love, unable to keep a foolish smile off her features, and her mother knew what she was talking about. She had never seen two people so different, and yet so right for one another. "But Jenna," the younger blonde added, noticeably shifting her demeanor, "…Jenna was so good to me. She put up with so much… I can't, I just can't..." she could not finish the sentence. "I don't want to hurt anybody, you know?" the blue-eyed dancer repeated her earlier statement, and it broke her mother's heart even further. Her daughter was just so… decent.
Caressing her daughter's soft blonde hair with adoration, Annie stated while nodding, "You are so sweet and nice, my Brittany." Short pause. "Perhaps too sweet and nice for this world," Mrs. Pierce added wisely and full of meaning.
"Don't worry too much, sweetie. Things like these have a way of sorting themselves out," the older woman added, laying a kiss on her daughter's temple. "Just know that your dad and I will support you no matter what you decide to do. One hundred percent," Annie added, locking eyes with Brittany to convey her message; successfully bringing out a small smile from her daughter, who was thankful to have such wonderful parents. "Now, please, stop crying and come with me to the kitchen. I'll make you some hot cocoa."
Santana and Jimmy entered the practice's building after their lunch together.
"I still can't believe you made me wait that long for you to get a mani-pedi?" Jimmy said in a huff while they walked to the elevators.
"Again with that?" Santana bit back. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch. Or should I say knickers? Besides, you flirted the whole time with that manicure lady, and I really needed my nails done. Have you been to Lima?"
"Got her number too," the hazel-eyed man stated proudly with a smug smile, instantly dropping the pout.
"I honestly don't know how that phone of yours holds so many numbers, Jimmy," Santana quipped while they waited for the elevator, returning the smug smile.
"Well, I certainly made good use of them when I was choosing our company for Thursday night, my friend. Suffice to say you shall not be disappointed," Jimmy playfully remarked with a wide smile.
"Where are we going anyway?" the Latina asked while they entered through the elevator's door.
"Oh, let's just say we'll be making a brilliant peregrination through many night clubs and leave it like that." And then the tall man pressed the button to the practice's floor.
"You better not take me to any shitholes, Jimmy," Santana warned him with a raised eyebrow. "I've had enough of those lately."
"Have some faith, San," the brown-haired man replied playfully as Santana snorted in response. Both went on to lean side by side against the elevator's handrail. "So, did you tell Britt about our night out?" Jimmy added and received a sideways discontent look from his friend. "Hey, I only ask to know where I stand if this topic ever pops out. Just trying to be a good bro here," the cardiologist finished with his trademark charming smile, which seemed to have worked that time because the brunette woman quickly replied.
"I told her. Everything. So, you know…" Santana trailed off in an aloof tone, running a hand through her straightened long hair.
"Was she jealous?" Jimmy couldn't contain the question.
"Totally," Santana couldn't contain the prompt answer, and both friends exchanged a small smile.
"Good," the tall man in blazer and jeans blurted out playfully. After a beat he added seriously, looking at the Latina in the eye, "Right?"
Returning the gaze Santana replied in a firm tone, "Frankly, I'm not even sure anymore." And then they arrived at their floor, stepping out of the elevator.
The couple made their way to the receptionist's desk to find Jane sitting there. Having heard the elevator and sensing someone's presence, Jane looked up to greet whomever was there. She was surprised to see who it was.
"Santana! Oh My, God. I'm so happy to see you," the young brunette in her almost mid-twenties exclaimed with a bright smile, grabbing some neon yellow post-its before standing up. "You look so good," she added, handing Jimmy the post-its before hugging the Latina.
"Thanks! It's nice to see you too, Jane," Santana replied with a smile, hugging the receptionist back.
"What? I don't get the same kind of warm reception?" Jimmy complained in a faux-offended tone. "James needs some sugar too, love," the British man added while skimming through his post-it messages.
"Shut up, Jimmy," the brunette doctor blurted out as Jane shook her head dismissively whilst rolling her eyes.
"Why don't you two go ahead to the doctors' lounge? I'll tell everyone Santana's here. I'm sure they are all dying to see you," Jane said, excusing herself before disappearing further into the practice.
"Wow, she's grown!" Santana said looking at Jimmy. "Just the other day she was barely a kid," the Latina mused, still astounded by the long stretch of time she missed.
"Well, she's pretty much still a kid, but a married kid now," Jimmy replied playfully, looking up at Santana from his post-its.
"She got married already?" the Latina asked in surprise, to which the tall man simply nodded.
"Last year."
While Santana shook her head in surprise Jimmy started guiding them towards the doctors' lounge, which wasn't very far. Upon arriving at the spacious, modern room that had a full kitchen area spread in an open floor plan combined with the lounge area that had a couple of sofas, armchairs and a big screen flat tv, they found Anna eating a sandwich in front of the television.
"What a surprise!" Anna exclaimed with a smile as she laid eyes on the two people entering the room. "I didn't know you were visiting," the pediatrician added, dropping her plate on the coffee table and getting up to hug the Latina.
"That was me," Jimmy stated while placing his sling briefcase on the kitchen's island. "I wanted this to be a surprise."
"Either way it's great to see you up and about," the black doctor said with a wider smile as she wrapped the Latina in a tight hug.
Pulling back with a matching smile Santana replied, "Thank you, Anna. I –" she was caught off before she could finish.
"The ass is still as fine as ever," came Noah's smug voice from behind her, making Santana spin around to face the man who was entering the room.
"Wish I could say the same Tyler, but you're still just an ass," Santana quipped with a smug smile and tone of her own.
"Touché. The wit is also still untouched, I see," the blond brain surgeon said with a wide smile, getting closer to the Latina. "Good to see you again," he added more seriously, outstretching his hand to Santana who promptly shook on it with an acknowledgement head nod. "So, how is Blondie?" Noah asked after Santana let go of his hand. Leave it up to the man to make any mood heavy.
"The band?" Santana rhetorically asked in a sarcastic tone, feigning confusion. "Fine, I suppose, although I'm not the one to be asked about current events."
"You know who I'm talking about," the blue-eyed man countered with a soft smile.
Conceding to kill the subject the Latina answered, "She's excellent, Noah. So nice of you to ask," she added looking into his eyes, saying the word 'nice' with the intonation of 'crappy'.
"Well, now that you're a free woman maybe we could give this," the tall man stated, gesturing from him to the plastic surgeon, "a chance. God knows there's chemistry here," Noah finished with a wide smirk.
Santana, and everyone in the room, laughed out loud. "You're hilarious, Tyler," the Latina let out dismissively with a wide mocking grin. Santana couldn't deny it; Noah Tyler was devilish handsome: broad shoulders, toned muscles, tall, square jaw, abundant soft blond hair… The downside of it all was that he knew it, and the Latina found that an incredible turn-off. It would never happen.
"Are you staying for long?" Anna asked changing the subject as the four of them gathered around the kitchen's island.
"I wish, but I'm just staying for the week. Gotta renew my medical license," Santana explained as Jane entered the room with Stella in tow.
"And here I thought that Jane was yanking my chain," Stella announced in a cheery tone, smiling brightly as she came closer to the group. "You're really here, Santana!" the blonde added, hugging the Latina.
"Sure am, Stella," Santana playfully replied, hugging the blue-eyed blonde back. "Missed me?"
"Of course," Stella replied, pulling back. "You know you are always welcome to come back to the practice, right?"
"Come on, you guys must have replaced me by now," the brunette plastic surgeon stated, knowing quite well from Jimmy that they haven't.
"No way," Anna piped in.
"Your old office is storage now," Noah promptly said to bait the Latina, but soon added, "but that could be easily reversed."
"I wish I could, you have no idea, but I have a daughter to consider now," Santana said, unable to contain a sweet smile. After all, said smile always took over her features when Zoey was mentioned.
"How is Zoey?" Stella asked with interest, matching the Latina's smile. "Jimmy is always giving us updates," she added, looking over at the British who matched the lady's smile.
"Wonderful," Santana replied, taking out her phone to proudly show pictures. After pressing some buttons on the screen, she handed the device to Stella who started to gush over them as the plastic surgeon added, "Thanks for safely delivering her, by the way."
"My pleasure," Stella simply replied, looking up from the screen to give and receive a knowing smile.
As the phone got switched around hands Jimmy asked, "Where are John and Grace?"
"They're with patients now," Jane offered, hovering above Anna to see Zoey's photos as well.
"Shocker, the psychiatrists are the ones busy," Santana quipped with a smile.
"It's not by chance that we have two of them," Noah added with a wink, which only disgusted the Latina.
They talked some more and did their best to catch up in so little time. After a while Jane approached Santana.
"So, I hear congratulations are in order. You're a married woman now," Santana said to the young receptionist.
"Yes, I am," Jane replied with a hint of a blush. She was a timid gal. "Eleven months now," she added, flashing the wedding band.
"I'm happy for you."
"Thanks, and thank Brittany as well. She didn't come to the wedding, but she sent me and Patrick, my husband, a lovely gift. She's always been so nice to me and everyone, really."
Santana knew that to be true. Brittany was indeed really nice to everyone, unlike herself. The thought brought a half-smile to her face as she replied, "Will do."
They talked a bit more, Santana got the chance to say a few words to Grace and John – who finished up with their patients – and after a while and lots of 'goodbyes' and 'see you soons', Jimmy escorted her to the elevator.
"So, I see you tonight, right?" Santana asked, pressing the button to call the elevator.
"Sure thing. Should I stop by the hotel so we can head to the restaurant together?"
"Nah, it's a waste of cab fare. We can just meet there."
"Ok, Quinn's got the tickets?" Jimmy asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while they waited. Santana nodded her positive answer.
"Did you talk to your realtor friend?" Santana inquired, unconsciously pressing the button again as if it would actually make the elevator come faster. "What his name again?"
"Ryan. Ryan Gates. And yes, I called him. Are you sure you want to sell the duplex? I mean, it's really hard to –" the British man began but was cut off by the brunette.
"I'm sure, and I hope you relayed to him the part of the message where I said that I don't care about the price nor the weak seller's market, I just want to sell it as quickly as humanly possible," Santana said rapidly and in a huff.
The elevator arrived and Santana stepped in as Jimmy replied, "I told him, yes. But I still think this is a mistake."
"Duly noted," the Latina sarcastically replied with an eye-roll, pressing the button to the lobby. "See you later, Jimmy," she added with a small smile.
"Yeah, see you later, San," Jimmy said with a smile before the elevator door closed up.
Leaving the building Santana hailed a cab, and the mere action made her feel better, made her feel a bit more at home. Yeah, New York was definitely working its magic and the Latina liked it. However fleeting the feeling might be she should hang on to it for dear life.
Hope you liked it, guys!
Next chapter: NYC nightlife/repercussions. Will she (Santana) or won't she?
You know the drill, review *no rhyme intended* :D