So this week I got around to updating both my WIP fics. Not much to say about this one except it starts right where the last chapter left off, in the middle of the action.
A big thank you for all the reviews and for reading this story.
Without further delay, enjoy this last chapter.
Chapter 21
Santana moved swiftly with Quinn on her heels, telling her where to go. She listened for the sound of feet. Good thing she didn't hear any.
"So who have they got in there? Is it only Puck?" Santana counted off in her heads how many rounds she had left in her sawed off gun.
"No, they've got Mike too." Quinn replied. "Through that door." It was the main entrance to the game room. Two hefty guards were keeping watch.
"Okay, we don't want to alert anyone inside that we're here but we have to take care of those guys." Santana drew her head back around the corner and rummaged through her bag till she found a silencer. She screwed it on and then handed the gun to Quinn. "Divide and conquer." She winked.
"What are you going to use?" Quinn questioned as she got familiar with the gun's weight. She missed carrying one and was still berating herself for losing hers to the enemy. She should have fought back before they all were captured but Mike begged her not to fight. They were at a disadvantage already so Quinn surrendered.
"Don't worry, I have my ways." Santana smirked and clicked open a foot long blade. "Now we just need a little distraction."
"What are you…"
"Ahhhh, owwwww!" Santana began to moan, her face contorting into weird forms for added affect. If there's anything she learned about delusions, the more effort you put into making it real the more convincing it is. She continued screaming but tried not to alert the whole building. She stuck her head around the corner again and smiled. One of the guards had heard and was leaving to take a look at where the sound had come from.
"That's you Quinn," Santana cocked her head. "I'll get the guy by the door. Meet me there when you're done. And don't take too long. Your precious baker boy's life is on the line."
"Would you stop calling him that?" Quinn growled but left Santana promptly to take down her target.
Santana moved stealthily across the walkway and kept her back close to the opposite wall. She moved fluidly, like water –making no sound till she was only a few meters away from the guard still watching anxiously for his friend. At what she felt was the right moment, Santana leapt from the shadows as high as she could to jam her knife into the man's neck. She got it, but wasn't able to dig in as deep as she hoped.
The man was caught by surprised and dropped his gun. His hands tried to find the source of pain that had shocked him from nowhere; meanwhile he felt his breath being cut off by two hands and a tight grip. His presence of mind had already shattered as he flailed relentlessly in every direction to find his bearings. In a stroke of luck, he found what had disabled him so and pulled the knife right out of his skin. Blood gushed out, soaking his clothes and traveling fast down his body. There was so much and he couldn't breathe. He next tried to remove the source of his suffocation but his hands did little but flap and slap against the hold of his strangler. In a minute it was all over.
Santana scrambled off the body she had just ended, wiping her sweaty hands on ass. She picked up her bloody knife from where it had fallen from the man's fingers and wiped it clean on the body. "And that's how we do it in Lima Heights." She huffed having spent quite a lot of energy making sure the man did not make a sound before he died. A moment later, Quinn caught up with her.
"Good job Santana, didn't know you could be so evil."
"Whatever, killing is killing. Help me drag this dead weight out of the way." They took a leg each and pulled painting a trail of red on the marble floor.
When they had deposited the body behind a large panel, Santana and Quinn poked their heads up to scan for activity. The area remained blissfully quiet.
"Are you ready to go in?" Santana asked her sidekick. She felt prepared for anything after having time to catch her breath.
"Wait, aren't you worried about Brittany?" Quinn shot back.
There had been no sounds from the lower level from which they'd come. The last thing Santana heard were gun shots and now…
"I have to find her." Santana sprung up in realization that Brittany had not been on her mind at all. She began to fear that something was wrong with her. Brittany was her wife, the person she loved more than anybody in the world. She was the person that made everyday worth living, and Santana had forgotten about her. Brittany could be in need her right now and here she was doing nothing.
"Oh my god, Brittany!" Santana clasped her hand over her mouth to contain the scream on her lips. All the worst case scenarios plowed through her mind like a tank over children's toys. Could she be dead?
Her head hurt like she'd been buried under extreme pressures for a decade. Clutching her head in her hands she tried to stand up but a shock of pain in her abdomen forced her sit again. Her vision was clearing up, leaving a smudged ring around her vision. Better not stand and risk losing her footing she thought as she waited for her mind to begin analyzing the situation.
Off to her left, her opponent lay still and barely moving. He wasn't dead. Brittany caught the slight movement of his lungs filling with air but emptying much too quickly to supply enough oxygen to his body. He would die sooner or later but the longer he waited, the more painful it would be.
Grabbing the bed linens from behind her, Brittany yanked with all her might. It came loose slowly. She gave it several more yanks, as hard as she could muster, and it finally hung over her shoulders. With her last remaining ounce of energy, she tore the white cloth into a long, narrow strip till it detached from the bigger sheet.
Ripping her blood soaked tank off, she howled into her gritted teeth. The pain of dry blood peeling at her skin sent unrelenting waves of pain to her brain. It hurt like hell, but the worst was over as she dropped the useless piece of clothing to the floor. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she looked over her legs. She jiggled them back and forth only feeling a slight pain from what were probably only bruises – good thing she didn't break any bones.
She secured the torn strip of linen around her midsection where she had been stabbed and wrapped it tightly; wincing every time it pulled taut against her wound. It was a numbing pain now; she would be able to tune it out. Years of hard fighting had taught her not to succumb to pain. Brittany tied the end and twisted her torso to test her new bandage. It stayed. Relived, she tried again to pick herself up, successful this time to stand steady on her feet. Her vision had returned in full now, and her mind was sharp as pins. She remembered everything, the gunshots, the knife fight, being stabbed, beating the guy to a pulp and nearly strangling him to death. She hadn't been able to finish, her whole world had spun as fast as a carnival tea cup and she had to rest.
Now she felt the energy run through her, more and more. She did a trial step with her right foot and then her left till her feet carried her to hover over the wasting body of her enemy.
"Hey," her voice crackled from the sting that coursed through her body as she knelt down. "Can you hear me?" She looked for signs of recognition or understanding from the man. He blinked with great effort.
"Good. Now listen, you're going to die." She swallowed. Telling someone their life was about to end was not something Brittany had a chance to do every day. "You can't breathe because there is a hole in your lungs and…" Brittany decided to skip to the point. She would be merciful. She lifted her hands, flexing them to check for blood circulation – they would do the job. "I'll make it quick if you give me some answers."
Without waiting for the man to acknowledge her, she pressed her hands to the sides of his neck – cupping them gently. "What do you know about Rory Flanagan's relationship with Sugar Motta?"
He sputtered and his throat contracted as he tried to talk. "They want to…" He paused to swallow though there was nothing to stop him from coughing. Brittany ran to the bathroom and brought him a cup of water. It wouldn't do much but it would help him to speak a little easier.
"They want to control the oil. It was her plan." Brittany watched him close his eyes and open them again. She hoped he wouldn't go into a state of unconsciousness before she got enough information out of him.
"Hey," she slapped his face back and forth gently.
"I don't know much. I only take orders."
"Can you give me names? Anybody they've associated with."
"Only powerful people, the names I can't remember. I…" He stopped breathing for a few seconds before he started again. Brittany nearly flattened her hands on his chest to revive him. She knew he didn't have much time left.
"Just try, please." She begged. A loud bang had her standing up quickly. She listened for more but there was nothing. She returned her attention back to the dying man.
"Trying, they are fighting him but he will win with weapons. No one can stop him."
"No, I can stop him. But I need more, tell me anything!" Brittany began desperately to shake the man's arm to keep him awake. He was slipping.
Another loud bang came, this time closer than before. Brittany was scared one of the other body guards had come to find the dying man. When she turned back to him, he was saying something. She lowered her head to hear it.
"Friend of prince, …helping to make b-b-o," He said no more. With a sigh, Brittany shut his eyes. There was nothing more to be done. She walked to the door but stopped a meter short of it when she heard scuffling on the other side; she only had a split second to dive under the bed.
All she could see were heavy boots. She held her breath and watched them quickly move towards the dead man. Whoever it was knelt down checked for his breath and quickly withdrew something from their pocket. Brittany had an eerie feeling it was a gun.
The boots walked around then went to the bathroom. Brittany considered leaving her hiding place and surprising the person when they came out but the boots returned too quickly.
With a sigh of relief, Brittany watched them walk towards the door. But they stopped. Maybe the person heard her let out a breath. If that was the case, Brittany was going to have to ready herself to fight. As she guessed, the boots made a straight path to the bed.
This was it. Brittany counted to five and with all her strength she grabbed the person's ankles and pulled. She got the desired effect. The body promptly collided with the ground and Brittany crawled on top of them punching the person in the face and grabbing the knife in their hand.
Her other hand held the person down by the throat.
"Stop, Britt it's me." Santana squeaked holding both her hands up.
"Santana," Brittany dropped the knife and lunged forward, smothering her in a hug.
"We're alright babe," Santana wrapped her arms around her wife. "You're alright. I was so worried."
"I'm so glad you're here with me."
"I wasn't going to leave you. I'd never do that."
They stayed embraced for another long moment and then Brittany sat up. She brushed her fingers over Santana's cheek where a dark purple was starting to form.
"Sorry that I punched you," Brittany leaned down to show Santana how truly sorry she was. She kissed under Santana's ear, then her jaw; avoiding the colored area.
"It was a good one,"
"Does it hurt badly?"
"I might feel better if you kiss me," Santana wiggled her eyebrows but grimaced when it sent a sharp pain through her face.
"Poor you," Brittany pouted and connected her lips with Santana's. She tried to keep it soft and gentle but Santana seemed to have other ideas. She gripped the back of Brittany's neck and twisted her head to one side. Her lips opened and Brittany stroked her tongue over her teeth and then deeper into her mouth. Santana played with Brittany's tongue a little until she pushed against it with her own.
Brittany moaned loudly.
They kissed till they were both thoroughly out of breath. "We have to get going don't we?" Brittany asked with her ear to Santana's chest.
"Yeah, I kind of abandoned Quinn somewhere." Santana said without a hint of care as she ran her fingers through Brittany's hair. "But are you okay baby?" She remembered spotting the bloodied shirt before being tripped on her ass.
"I saw your shirt and I thought for a split second about if you were, you know."
"I'm okay," Brittany quickly reassured her, not wanting Santana to think about what could have possibly happened to her. "I just had to bandage myself, and the shirt is ruined."
"What happened to you baby?" Santana rubbed over the makeshift bandage. Light red was soaking through.
"I took out one of the oafs but this one got a jab into my side. I disarmed him and shot him through the lungs so I came out on top. Nothing to worry about."
"Of course I'm going to worry," Santana screwed her eyebrows together. "You're injured."
"But we can't just leave our friends Santana,"
"I know, but I don't want you getting hurt even more."
"And I know you won't let me. You've got my back Santana, I trust you. Do you trust me to take care of myself?"
Santana nodded slowly while pressing her thumbs into Brittany's stomach, massaging her there. "Fine, but just know that I am not happy everyone is going to see you half naked like this."
"I might be a good distraction," Brittany winked.
"Please, I'll probably be the most distracted of anyone. And how is me getting killed going to help any of us?"
"Well then, you'll just have to control yourself." Brittany pulled Santana up into a sitting position and kissed her soundly. Once again, both of them were oblivious to the danger and fighting.
"Come on honey," Brittany got up and pulled Santana along with her. "Ready to kick some bad guy ass?"
She handed the fallen knife back to Santana and grabbed the stolen hand gun off the bed. Brittany led the way out, earning a slap on the butt from Santana.
Santana led Brittany back the way she came. They ran past halls of open doors, which Brittany assumed had been wrenched ajar in Santana's haste to find her.
"This is where I was last with Quinn," Santana said, looking at the dead bodies they'd moved out of the way. Everything was just how she'd left it. There were no sounds and the large library doors seemed to have not been opened at all.
"So what's the plan? Are just going to attack?"
"With our few numbers, I think its better we surprise them and keep picking them off till there's a manageable number of men left."
"You're so smart…" Quick as a cheetah, Brittany dodged an opened mouthed Santana and knocked someone over.
"Okay, what the fuck!" Santana turned around to see Brittany pinning Quinn onto the floor. Her gun, well Santana's gun, lay a safe three meters away. People really needed to give her warning before dashing at her or slamming her to the floor.
"I saw someone with a gun coming behind you, so I intervened." Brittany huffed, "Sorry Quinn." She crawled off and held her side. It was a little painful from the fall.
"Well, why is everyone out to get me? First Brittany now Quinn, is it my unlucky day or something?"
Noises began to rise behind the library doors, and the three girls realized that Rory's men had probably heard them talking.
"We gotta hide," Santana lurched into action, grabbing Brittany's hand and running towards the opening doors. Quinn followed as they hid behind a corner.
"What did Brittany do?" Quinn asked quietly.
"I might have accidently, knocked her off her feet and punched her in the face." Brittany replied sheepishly, careful to note the scowl on Santana's face.
"Way to go Britt," Quinn high-fived her.
"Okay, seriously you two. Stop ganging up on me."
"Mad Santana is hot,"
"Mad Santana is a beast, those fuckers better be ready."
"You two had better be ready cus we'z about to dash," Santana hissed and counted to three. Just as the doors were swinging closed she slipped inside the library, followed by Brittany and Quinn.
"Hey!" One of the three bulky men who came out to check for commotion ran to the door hoping to keep it open but Santana was quicker. She quickly locked it and joined Brittany and Quinn behind some bookshelves.
The three men locked outside began to bang their fists against the door.
"Okay, so you wait for the guys to run past and shoot them." Santana instructed Brittany and Quinn, "I'll sneak behind enemy lines and try to take Irish hostage."
She was about to leave when Brittany put her hand on her arm, pulling her back down to her level. "Be careful baby,"
Santana tilted her head and kissed Brittany open mouthed for a couple seconds. "I promise, see you in a few."
"Just go already," Quinn shooed Santana, "before your lip smacking gives away our position."
"You're just jealous your man isn't bad ass like Brittany and is tied up by an Irish leprechaun."
"I hate you Satan,"
With an 'I don't care, I'm awesome' shoulder shrug, Santana ran off between the bookshelves. Just in time too. A pair of black clad men came walking by, shoulders crouched and guns at the ready.
It only took a second for Brittany and Quinn to take them down. Methodically, the two ran towards the bodies and dragged them out of the path to the library doors.
"We still got it," Brittany patted Quinn on the back. They peered through the books to see if anyone else was coming.
"You take the left, I'll take the right." Quinn nodded with her head. "Shoot anyone that comes into range, there shouldn't be that many men left."
They'd barely taken two steps when they heard an incredibly girlish scream.
Both raised their eyebrows but continued moving through the shelves towards the sound. Loud thuds on the library doors stopped them in their tracks.
"Let's take care of them first," Brittany mouthed and ran back the way she'd come.
The three hulks previously locked out came barreling through the library doors leaving it in splinters. They'd hardly stopped rolling when Brittany and Quinn gunned them down permanently.
By the time they raced to the sitting area of the library they were ready for a massive fight but the picture was not quite what they expected.
There sat Santana, sharpening her knife on the metal back of Sugar Motta's chair dangerously close to her neck. Mike and Puck were free, two bodyguards were dead on the floor and Santana was snug on Rory Flanagan's lap. He was bound as was Sugar.
"Oh hey, you guys finally made it." Santana sounded perky. Quinn ran straight into Mike's waiting arms. "Are you okay?" Mike nodded and they started making out.
"Gross," Santana turned away from the scene.
She slipped her knife back into its case hanging off her belt. "Mike and I were just about to question these two crooks."
"What about me?" Puck finished collecting the weapons off the unconscious guards.
"You can make sure Britt and I have the stuff we need to disappear ASAP," Santana pointed her finger at his nose.
"At least when you're gone, I won't have to be your personal bitch anymore." He grumbled.
"Hey Britt babe, I told you I'd keep my promise." Santana ignored Puck's whining. There were more important people to pay attention to, like her gorgeous, battle wounded, strong, sexy, half-naked wife.
"You're like my hero San," Brittany said and was about to kiss Santana when her eyes landed on their two captives.
"You two shut your eyes right now so I can get my mack on," Santana glared menacingly. Rory and Sugar were so scared they did exactly as she said.
She turned back to Brittany and collected her reward. "For the record, your injured ass isn't that bad either."
"Can we open our eyes now?" Sugar attempted to ask, but it sounded like some alien noise.
"Whatever, you can open your eyes" Santana replied annoyed. "It's time to fulfill some of my demands." She unsheathed her knife again for effect.
Brittany had no idea what Santana's would do next. Tying up Rory and Sugar had never been the plan.
"Hey San, maybe we should talk about this first," Brittany whispered in her ear. Santana had to calm the shivers and tone down sexy thoughts she was now thinking. Being around Brittany was definitely a 24 hour in the gutter experience.
"Okay babe," her face switched from glare to grin in a second as she took Brittany's outstretched hand and followed her to a corner of the library, away from the captive's ears.
"So whipped," Quinn commented because it really had to be said.
"What exactly are you doing?"
"I was just going to tell him to leave us the fuck alone. Believe me; I don't want to be a part of this mess anymore than you do."
"So then we let them go?" Quinn interjected, "What about doing the right thing and taking care of business?"
Brittany looked torn. On one hand she couldn't wait to start a fresh future with Santana, but not finishing a job and letting evil men carry on in their wicked ways was not something she was used to doing either.
"Well, can't we just turn him into the police?"
"And what would they do with him? Nothing. They don't know what he's behind and we have no proof of anything. They'll just let him go."
"Trade'm," Puck joined the conversation. "You two still have some powerful people after your asses for failing the mission and for running away together."
"Won't it be like making a deal with the devil?" Brittany asked. She knew how ruthless and uncaring the higher ups were. They were selfish and probably pissed beyond forgiving her and Santana no matter who they turned in.
"Britt's right, we can't trust them." Santana sighed.
"So we kill them," Quinn said simply, seeing only one solution left.
"At least Quinn and I will be finished with this mess," Puck sighed. "I'll go pick up your papers tomorrow Santana, my contact said they're ready."
"Thanks Puck," Santana allowed herself to lean against the bookshelf. The thought of forever being a fugitive sapped her of strength, but then she looked at Brittany and she remembered why it would all be worth it. She'd do anything for the chance for a semi-normal life with her wife. "You guys can finish up here right?"
"Yeah, you two go rest." Puck nodded, "Quinn and I will take care of the rest. Tomorrow morning I'll be here with your things."
Brittany suddenly realized how tired and drained her body felt. "I'm sleepy San," she announced and did a giant yawn. Santana watched her like she was the most adorable person in the world.
"Let me have a few words with Sugar,"
The other four trailed Brittany back to the two crooks.
Roughly, Brittany pulled the tape off Sugars mouth and slapped her across the cheek – hard.
"Oooh, that's gotta hurt," Quinn cringed. Mikes eyes widened and Puck and Santana had their jaws dropped.
"That's so hot," They breathed at the same time. It earned Puck a punch in the arm.
"Don't say that."
"But you did."
"Are you married to Brittany? No. I am, so when I say she's hot it's a compliment. When you say it, it's creepy and disturbing."
"Damn, you need some sleep grumpy."
Brittany was now straddling Sugars lap, "Bitch that was for causing me and Santana so much trouble and for being a backstabber, liar, deceiver, and genius actor and for finding that potato belly attractive. I hope you have lots of unattractive, flaming haired babies in hell." With that, Brittany taped Sugar's mouth again and walked off, Santana on her arm.
"Santana's bitchy totally rubbed off on Brittany," Quinn put her hands on her hips. "I wonder how their kids will turn out."
"Hey, mine and Brittz kids will be kickass and awesome," Santana shouted back having heard the last of Quinn's comment. "Not pastry kids like yours and baker boys."
"Wow," Mike said. He wasn't used to hearing Brittany and now Santana being so mean.
"That's normal when they're in a bad mood. Well, actually that only applies to Brittany. Santana's got snix up her ass permanently."
"What's Snix?" Mike was even more confused.
"Never mind, you don't want to know." She patted him on the back.
"We gonna start now?" Puck asked, already brandishing a gun and wielding it around in the air.
"Let's do it." Quinn nodded and Mike closed his eyes.
Halfway through the night, Brittany woke up. Everything was so quiet and it unsettled her. She didn't feel danger lurking in the halls, in the bathroom or under the bed. It just felt like a long extended moment before something really great happened and she was just waiting for the blowing of the trumpets and for Jesus to come riding down on a unicorn.
Earlier that night, Santana and Brittany had been settling into bed after showers – and by settling she meant they were subtly grinding under the covers, when Quinn came in without knocking to tell them everything was complete and that she and Mike would sleep a safe three doors away. Puck poked his head in and said he was sleeping next door which pissed Santana off royally.
It turned out, both she and Santana were too spent to go beyond grinding and making out. But now Brittany was fully awake. The prospect of the morning dawning along with their freedom from their past lives was making her stomach churn with excitement. She really couldn't sleep when thoughts of her new life with Santana kept interrupting her.
"Baby?" Santana wriggled in bed and swept her arms over the expanse of the mattress looking for Brittany.
"Right here," Brittany crawled back under the covers and cuddled with Santana.
"Why you up?" She didn't even open her eyes.
"I'm excited, and you know how I get. It's worse than having ten spoons of sugar in my coffee."
"I never understood your sweet tooth," Santana continued to mumble half asleep; "black coffee is the best."
"ick,"
"But you like the taste of it in my mouth." Santana smirked against Brittany's chest. She was slowly gaining awareness.
"I like the taste of your mouth no matter what you eat."
"Even with morning breathe?"
"It's tolerable, but that's why we always have mints in the side drawer…"
"…instead of condoms." Santana finished Brittany's sentence with a chuckle. "It doesn't even make sense."
"Whatever, we make sense and that's all that matters." Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head. This was the absolutely perfect way to wake up with Santana in Brittany's books.
"So, what do you want to do on our first day of freedom?" Santana asked.
"Get as far away from here as possible."
"I think that's a splendid idea baby,"
"What about you?"
"Me?" Santana thought for a moment, "I want to have sex."
"Santana!" Brittany whined, that was so not what she was asking.
"What? You don't want to start a family with me?"
"What?" Now Brittany was thoroughly confused, how did Santana jump from sex to starting a family?
"Well, when two people love each other," Santana began cheekily, "they have sex and make lots of babies."
"So, you want to make babies with me? Is that it?" Brittany asked in return.
"Uh huh," Santana was now fully awake and so was her desire to ravish Brittany. "I want to make lots of babies with you."
"I can't believe I'm turned on by that." Before Brittany could elaborate on how children were fundamentally not sexy and actually a lot of work, Santana had already flipped her over and was now straddling her.
"Well babe, we could have twin girls," Santana brought Brittany's hands to her own breasts and reached behind to snap off her bra. "These twins already love you."
"Oh god, Santana, I think you broke my brain."
"Then stop thinking baby," Santana lay down on Brittany and that was it, all thought of cute cuddly children were flushed out of Brittany's mind.
And that's it. Just kidding, there's still an epilogue to come and some loose ends to tie up.