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Chapter 4
"So you want to tell me why you're here alone?" Dr. Richards looks Santana up and down. Her dress suit is immaculate, not a particle of dust to draw attention from the bold, silky black of her coat and skirt.
"I need advice," Santana says, checking out her perfectly painted nails for chips in the smooth red.
"Go on,"
"What would you say about my wife?"
"That's not a question I usually get asked, most people present me with a problem." Dr. Richards looks for any signs of nervousness, unease, or apprehension, but Santana is calm as an ocean.
"If I had to describe your wife I'd have to say she's very vibrant, a lovely girl, someone who is adventurous and active, always on the go…she has a positive spirit about her. She's someone people of all types would want to be acquainted with. Are you worried about her social life?"
"Not particularly, did she look…happy…with me when we were here last time?" Santana's voice hints of worry.
"I see, you're feeling insecure about your relationship although there's nothing pointing to trouble."
Santana shifts her eyes lower; a ting of pink embarrassment colors her face. "I may have done something to upset her."
"Ok, from what I could tell there wasn't much disdain for you on her part, distant maybe, but that could have been caused by your recent interactions with her. She may just be giving you space or she can't read what is going on between the two of you so she doesn't approach you."
"Sometimes I leave her out of the loop, but not on purpose. I'm just not a talker." Santana brushes over her skirt, anything to keep her hands from getting sweaty. She wasn't going to see Dr. Richards but something wasn't right with Brittany last night.
Flashback to the night before:
Santana kills the engine seconds after Brittany. She would have won, they'd both made it to the curve and she had the edge but Brittany did a drift right in front of her, almost scraping the front of her car. Santana wasn't expecting it, she was almost shocked. If she hadn't hit the brakes slightly, they could have crashed, "where the hell did Brittany learn to drive like that?" she wonders.
Inside Brittany is half-way up the stairs, half-way undressed. She must know Santana is following closely, that her eyes would find her like they always do.
She doesn't follow her though. Santana walks to the patio to cool off, she needs to be calm and clear minded right now; not imagining pictures of her wife laying naked in bed waiting for her. If she's impatient maybe she'll start before her.
No, now is not the time. Now she needs to think about this mission. Her life is depending on it, and Brittany's.
She has to focus on the problem at hand, Rory Flanagan…
"You couldn't wait sweet-heart?" Santana says, feeling warm hands wrap around her shoulders. They press her stressed muscles into a relaxed state.
"Sometimes you think too much and don't say enough, honey." Her wife whispers from behind like a ghost wind. She shivers but not from the cool breeze. "We should take a vacation. To the Maldives maybe, re-live those nights."
Santana's brain stopped working a long time ago. All she can do now is try to keep her breathing organs functioning – her wife is being very suggestive. After going a whole week without intimacy and only breaking her rule once she wants her so bad.
"What my wife wants my wife gets," She says, voice like velvet, soft and smooth enough to wrap a heart. "In a week I promise we'll get away from all this."
There's double meaning in her words, she knows what she has to do if she doesn't want her life to be under this shadow forever.
"I'd like that," Her wife's voice is just as gripping. "I miss you; right now I want to…"
She never finishes her sentence. Her wife looks at her with an uncommon fear that's never existed before.
"I want you too Brittany, I will always want you."
Brittany gives her a weak smile before kissing her softly.
What happens next is intense. Santana doesn't think she's ever broken a window while doing it before, but tonight Brittany drives her crazy.
Just before she fell asleep wrapped up in Brittany's arms, she heard her say, "I wish things were different."
"Well, then you know what you have to do." Dr. Richards smiles. "Communication, or should I say lack of, is one of the main causes for troubled marriages. Why don't you take her on a date, talk but don't have sex. I know physical intimacy is sometimes easier but that's just prolonging the real problem. If it turns out your problem is serious then you are both welcome to come back and talk to me. I have a couple tuning program that can help."
Santana picks herself with natural poise and extends her hand. "Thank you for your advice Dr."
She's never come home to a dark, empty house. It's not like Brittany. Whenever her wife is in, all the lights are on, even the ones not necessary.
She picks up her phone immediately, bypassing all her contacts to 'family' that contains only one number.
"San, are you home now? Oh, gosh I forgot to tell you I was going to run a bit late… don't worry about dinner I'm buying in. Wait a bit ok, I'll be home soon. Love you!"
Her 'hey Britt,' is left on her tongue when the line cuts.
An hour later Santana watches television idly, and checks her phone for the tenth time. She swears if in another ten minutes Brittany isn't home, she's calling again.
She sets her phone down and reevaluates the information she's found. Rory is the son of Robert Flanagan, owner of large oil stocks. The Flanagan's family business is exporting frozen lamb. They sent Rory to an expensive Catholic school where he caused nothing but mischief selling 'unclean' things like erotic DVD's, bracelets with questionable charms, and comic books.
The school masters expelled him immediately.
The only record Santana has after that is a detailed police statement about Rory being caught red-handed selling drugs and using them.
"Puck said not to kill…" she says out loud.
"I'm so sorry honey," Brittany comes through the door in haste almost knocking it off its hinges.
"It's fine, why are you wearing glasses?" Santana gets up to help her wife with the bags of food she's carrying.
"Oh," Brittany laughs adorably, "It helped me get a job."
"What? You don't need a job Britt. Did you get fired from your last job? Because I will personally speak to your boss and he won't like what I have to say."
She forgets about the growl in her stomach and the food on the counter.
"No, it's not like that Santana. I'm getting a second job."
"Why? You don't need a second job; I don't want you to have a second job."
"Excuse me?"
"What? You're not taking it!"
Brittany shakes her head in bewilderment. She rests her hands on her hips waiting for an explanation.
"Britt, there's something you aren't telling me."
Brittany scoffs, rolls her eyes and her sleeves up as she begins setting the table for dinner.
"Talk to me!" Santana shouts, pulling the plates away. "Why do you need another job? Do I not provide enough for us? Is this you getting yourself on your feet so that you can walk away from me with somebody else?"
"Do you hear the bullshit coming out of your mouth?" Brittany shouts back when she's had enough.
"Well, don't leave me guessing. I'm sure your story is much more riveting." Santana bites with sarcasm.
"It's just a temporary job ok? You know how I said that I would like to be the author of children's books someday?"
Santana remembers well, they had a conversation about that which led to a conversation about children. She'd never forget how Brittany said in a few years they'd have kids. It excited Santana so much knowing her option window would become open soon, a perfect time to change her lifestyle to one more suited for raising the kids that she secretly wanted.
"I remember," Santana answers quietly.
"This publishing company has an opening for an editor, I took a shot at it not expecting to get it but I did. I was going to tell you but I wasn't sure. And now well, you know – I guess we don't need the champagne."
With a frown sketched to her face Brittany continues to set the table and lay the food out.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have assumed or gotten mad…" Santana tries to hold Brittany from behind but she spins out of her loose grasp to put a jug of water and two glasses on the table.
"I'm tired Santana, we'll talk about it later." Brittany says as she sits down to put one spoonful in her mouth after the next without the least bit of enjoyment. She's mad at Santana for implying something so horrible that she'd never think about, but she feels bad for lying most of all.
Flashback earlier that day:
"What have you got Tina?" Quinn asks, switching her ipad on.
"Orders to kill Flanagan."
It comes as a shock to all around the table.
"What? We've only been investigating for a day! How can they know already?" Brittany looks at the notes she spent all night writing. Well, not all night, half of it she spent making her wife scream but the other half that stretched into morning that stretched into hours of endless coffee cups and sagging eyes, she spent researching on Jesse St. James. They couldn't already have an order to kill.
"It's not our duty to question, only do." Tina shrugs. "So, let's set a plan."
Sugar sighs, puts a few pictures of questionable figures back in her purse and follows Tina out of Quinn's bakery.
Quinn doesn't look convinced, and Brittany sees it as her chance of an ally.
"I still think he's innocent," Brittany scoots closer and whispers.
"I'm not sure of that, but if we kill him now we'll never know."
Quinn is hardly ever wrong, she has instincts about these things and if they are saying to wait up then Brittany believes they should. Now it's her job to convince the other two girls.
"Tina, think about it. They're just going for the easy way out! They don't know anything. It's possible that Rory was set-up and now he's going to have to die. That's just playing along with their plan!"
"They, their, who Brittany?" Tina retaliates. "We don't know anyone involved. We take orders from a voice on a machine, they could be the 'bad guys' for all I know, but see? I don't know, and neither do you. We've never questioned killing others on command before, why now?"
"Because, we won't be helping them solve the problem by killing the wrong guy. They are being impulsive and shooting at whatever pops up first because they're desperate. Which means this thing is much bigger than a regular little robbery or signature forge."
"Brittany's got a point," Sugar squeaks, "Our instructions have always been clear-cut. This, we hardly have information and they're sending us to finish the job."
Tina sighs, "What do you want to do then?"
"Jesse St. James runs a pretty big production company, we need someone on the inside…"
"It'll take too much time; we need to kill someone by Friday." Tina shoots down Quinn's idea.
"No, listen. We have Brittany be our mole for a day or two. If something's going to happen it's going to happen soon. We'll find out, underwater activity may be subtle but it's there, it won't escape us."
Everyone nods their heads in agreement.
"Wait, why me?" Brittany asks.
"Because you're best on the field, and you'll charm Jesse into giving you the information we want." Quinn crosses her arms as if to say, 'dare to disagree'.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Brittany pulls her friend by the arms to the corner of the street.
"I can't do it. What if it requires me to do something with him that I don't like? Even if I get through doing it I'll feel guilty, I can't do that to Santana."
"Leave Santana out of this Brittany," Quinn says sternly, "Remember, your job comes first."
"NO," Brittany shakes her head, "not anymore. After this is done, I'm quitting."
"You can decide that later but right now you don't have a choice. Do it for the team?"
"For the last time," Brittany murmurs and turns back towards the other two. "Let's do this."
Brittany clears the dishes, washes them and dries them before getting ready to run. Santana is doing her routine Paula Abdul which Brittany likes to laugh at, that's why Santana locks the den now so Brittany can't get it. Of course once Brittany's left the house Santana puts on her combat DVD.
Brittany runs at full-speed for four kilometers, feeling the wind leave her body until she stops to refill her lungs again. She loves to run, to push herself more each day. She knows Santana loves it to, she regularly comments on how hot Brittany's body looks in bed which is a great motivation besides that she has to stay fit for her job.
A horn beeps and Brittany crosses the road.
"Hey Q, got the details for me?"
"Sure do," Quinn slips a folded paper through her half rolled down window.
"Are you going on a date Quinn Fabray?" Brittany teases, knowing the reason Quinn didn't roll her window down fully was so she couldn't see her all dressed up.
"Shut up Brittany, I'm allowed to have a life."
"And what, you don't think I do? Just because I'm married doesn't mean I don't have a life. My wife is sexier than every woman in this town and I get to bang her every night." Brittany winks.
"Too much information Brittany, and thank god I like men."
"So who is it?" Brittany's breathing speeds, not from exercise but excitement.
Quinn looks like she doesn't want to tell. "If it goes well I'll fill you in tomorrow."
"ugh, you are no fun Quinn," Brittany whines but waves goodbye as her friend winks and drives away.
"Are you still mad at me?" Santana asks.
Brittany's too distracted by the sweat rolling down Santana's cleavage to answer.
"Like what you see?" Santana teases, taking Brittany's hand and running it down the same path as her eyes just roamed. She steps closer, pinning Brittany to the front door, "you can do whatever you want with me tonight."
Brittany doesn't have to think twice, her head is already nodding. "Wait here,"
That being said she runs up the stairs three at a time to their bedroom where she strips. The folded paper Quinn gave her falls to the ground.
She's looking for a place to put it when Santana appears at the door. Her eyes are hungry the moment they set on Brittany's naked form.
"I told you to wait Santana; you said you'd do what I say."
"Except wait, I can't wait."
Brittany rolls her eyes as Santana stalks forward not moving fast enough to scare Brittany but she's already devouring her with a killer look.
"Can you ummm…set the bath, with bubbles. I'll be there in a minute." Brittany buys more time as Santana changes courses for the bathroom.
Quickly she puts the slip of paper in one of her shoes in the cupboard.
"Sweetheart, how much longer are you going to make me wait?" Santana calls from the bathroom and Brittany goes running.
She can never resist that tone of voice or the words that promise her she'll regret waiting any longer.
Santana is already in the bath. She beckons Brittany with a twist of her finger and Brittany walks like she's hypnotized.
Her wife naked is a revelation, no one can blame her.
"I decided to change the rules because you were slow." Santana runs her hands up and down her long wet legs raised above water. "I'm going to do whatever I want with you as long as I know you're going to love it."
"And..h..how will you know what I love?" Brittany sits on the edge of the tub and dips her hand into the sudsy, warm pool.
"Let's see…what if I start with this?"
Santana pulls Brittany's legs carefully over the side of the tub so they're half sunk into the foam bath. She begins massaging Brittany's heels, her head moves towards the skin of Brittany's thighs and she presses light kisses to one knee.
Her mouth travels up as does her hands that now stroke Brittany's calves, working out the muscles hard from Brittany's run.
Brittany expects her to wait, to tease her, to draw this game out but she doesn't. When Santana's mouth reaches her core she doesn't stop.
Santana spreads Brittany's legs wider till she's barely keeping balance on the edge. Brittany's hands grip Santana's wet hair, all tangled and gorgeous around her face.
Brittany loves to watch Santana eat her out just as much as she loves the feeling of falling from her high.
"You taste delicious," Santana moans against Brittany, tongue never stopping its path from nub to ring of muscles.
"Oh…uh…umm," Brittany's sure her legs are cramped and her butt is sore but she can't feel anything besides what Santana is doing to her. "God, I love you baby."
She holds Santana's head tight to stomach as it contracts repeatedly. "You're so good at that." She lets her body slump and slide as dead weight into the water.
"I don't like your new rule," Brittany says once semi recovered.
"Did you not just orgasm? I'm pretty sure you liked it," Santana runs her hands through Brittany's hair, undoing the knots before slowly dipping her head into the water.
"It was ok, it wasn't what I wanted you to do though."
"What do you want me to do Mrs. Wife? Maybe I can fulfill your wishes." Santana adds shampoo and begins kneading it into Brittany's hair gently, scratching her skulls with her tidy short nails, and rubbing behind Brittany's ears just how she likes it.
"How should I describe it? We've never had sex in that position before."
"Oh?"
Brittany smirks at Santana's curious squeak.
"Let me see, I'm picturing a hammock, a stripper, some sexy music, being fucked with a dildo on a swinging hammock. How do you like it so far?"
"There's more?" Santana is barely able to say, her throat going dry at the visual.
"If you want there to be," Brittany shrugs, "we could do the 69 on the hammock, then I could fuck you on the floor till your ass is red from friction…I could fuck you in the…."
"Brittany, you're going to make me come with your words," Santana chuckles
"That good huh?" A smirk plays on the corner of Brittany's lips. "You know what I want to do right now?"
"What?" Santana knows whatever it is it will be good.
"Get on my shoulders," Brittany lifts Santana onto the edge of the tub where she previously sat and locks both her legs around her head. Slowly she stands up, wobbling Santana like blocks on a high tower as she steps out of the tub and walks to the mirror.
"I'm loving the view right now," she chuckles.
"Are you just going to look?" Santana hurries her.
"Look into the mirror Santana, when I make you come I want you to look in the mirror and see how beautiful you look when you fall apart."
Brittany's words are a trigger to Santana. She's wet before Brittany even touches her but when she does, Santana nearly blows.
As promised, she doesn't watch Brittany work, just watches herself in the mirror. Her hands hold tightly to Brittany's head. She watches the strong muscles in Brittany's back flex and relax, she finds it incredibly sexy how Brittany is so ripped.
It doesn't take long till she's watching herself fall apart. She doesn't look as good as Brittany when she comes, but the image of herself gasping for breath and repeating Brittany's name turns her on all over again and without warning she comes a second time.
They're both exhausted when they dry their hair with a quick toweling down and collapse on the bed.
"Can we keep those beautiful pictures for next time Britt?" Santana asks. "Just thinking about them turns me on but I don't have the energy for a freaking hammock."
"mmmm," Brittany agrees, "another time, but I'm still not done for tonight."
"I'll give it to you as many times as you can handle on this bed." Santana rolls over on top of Brittany and begins to suck one of her pink nipples; she drags her fingers through Brittany's folds. "You are so ready for me."
A little glimpse into their sex life.
Sorry it's not too long and didn't progress the story much but I had to establish their relationship so people aren't confused.
Do you think Santana or Brittany should be more angry when the truth comes out?