it was love to me Chapter 24: All Those Arrows You Threw, a glee fanfic

all those arrows you threw, you threw them away

Barcelona

There was a cold and hollow feeling that washed over Brittany the next morning when she woke and turned to stare at the other side of the bed which had remained empty and untouched.

Santana hadn't come home and waking up without her had to be the loneliest feeling in the world, Brittany thought.

Or maybe it just felt like that because she had gotten so used to and accustomed to having Santana to turn over to. She loved those quiet dim early morning moments where she got to drink all of Santana in before they tumbled out of bed and Brittany had to share her with the world. Like they were the only two people alive and the only thing that existed was the bed beneath them. She could stare for hours at dark hair splayed across a pillow, her tan skin barely covered by sheets and marvel at the way her girlfriend's chest would rise and fall in slumber.

She even missed the occasional dried drool crusties Santana would sometimes wake up with on her face. She especially missed waking her up by jumping on the bed. Brittany would always carefully bounce around while Santana grumped and whined to be left alone. Brittany would only stop when Santana would grab an ankle and pull her down and wrap her in her arms, trapping Brittany who was always a happy captive in that embrace, giggling as their bodies pressed against each other. Santana was really the best, most amazing cuddler, Brittany mused, and yeah a lot of those morning cuddles would turn into morning kisses, and Santana's kisses? They were the most yummy kisses in the entire universe.

But now, all of that was replaced with empty space.

Here she was without cuddles or kisses and who did Brittany have to blame?

Her own goddamn self, she thought sadly as she picked up her head and dropped it back down into her pillow with frustration and force.

She should have known Santana would react that way, she was always so sensitive, so fragile. It was what Brittany loved about her, how underneath the highly snarky exterior Santana had such a beautiful, sensitive yet passionate heart. And while it could beat calmly and quietly, it could also burst wildly with emotion. With passion.

And it did. She couldn't really fault Santana for that though. Brittany hadn't planned to say any of that the previous night, but the thoughts had been biting at her for days (and honestly, maybe even longer than that) and after that one unsavory exchange on Snix Night she had been in a mood. Santana had been more than sweet and more than supportive through it, never pushing and never prodding but Brittany couldn't help from spewing all of that out when Santana had challenged her to open up.

And then, well.

After Santana left the previous evening Brittany went about cleaning up. She blew out the candles and put the food away in the fridge and tossed the silverware in the sink to be dealt with later. Only the roses remained there in the center of the table. She touched a petal between her fingertips and shook her head at herself.

Santana had went out of her way to cheer her up, to bring her a dozen red roses and what had she done in return? She let her own weird irrational fears take control of her until she was vomitting them all over the place. Ugh.

Later after putting away dinner she had sat on the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest and attempting to call Santana but all calls and texts went unanswered. She even went so far as to check Santana's social media but her girlfriend didn't appear to be posting anything, anywhere. Finally out of desperation she found herself making a call to Quinn who sounded groggy from sleep but still concerned for what warranted a late night call. Brittany tried to downplay it all, chuckling unconvincingly to her friend that it was nothing super important but she hadn't by any chance heard from Santana in the past couple of hours. Quinn said she hadn't but if she did she'd be quick to tell Brittany, who just thanked her and told her to get back to sleep. Even as Quinn asked if there was something going on that she could help her with.

And so Brittany eventually decided to crawl into bed alone. She sat up at every noise and random creak of the loft hoping that it was Santana letting herself back in after blowing off some steam. But she never came back.

Sleep must have gotten the better of her though because the next thing she knew she was waking up the next morning alone and cold and with an urgent desire to find Santana and make things right.

She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to do that but she knew she had to as she trudged her way out of bed and tried to quiet her grumbling stomach with a bowl of cereal. She managed a small handful of spoonfuls down before chunking the majority of it in the sink and starting back towards the elevated bedroom, convinced that a nice hot shower would help her wash the emotional fatigue away and maybe help her find her words and maybe even a plan. She had already tossed aside her bottoms and had just pulled her top off over her head and let it fall to the floor when a sudden and vivid memory flashed vibrantly before her there as she stood at the foot of the bed.

She saw herself and Santana, tangled there under the sheets together.

It was almost if a movie was playing before her very eyes, or rather like she was seeing a mirage of sorts. So real, so clear was the memory and yet as she stood it felt like she was reliving it from the outside. She remembered that morning.

She watched herself tip Santana on her back against the pillows and crawl on top of her only for the sheets to fall away and pool around her. Santana's tan hands appeared then, sliding down Brittany's sides slowly to rest at the small of her back.

Brittany could almost feel those fingertips again. She remembered how it felt, how Santana's hands held her, gently urging her on but also how she was so careful with her, how her touch had been so soft. She remembered staring down at Santana's perfect face as Santana looked down and watched Brittany slide slowly against her in slow degrees, leaving trails of her arousal across her abs. Santana's eyes had turned fiery when she saw and felt how slippery and wet Brittany was. The evidence was literally all over her. Brittany remembered grinning when she reached around behind herself to see exactly how much Santana was enjoying the view. Brittany's heart had skipped a beat, as it always did, when she found that Santana was just as excited. Her thighs were already coated in her own desperate desire.

But standing there, on the outside, Brittany shook her head and blinked hard. Now was not the time to be having vividly hot flashbacks to the morning she had woke Santana up and rode her abs before going down on her for an hour she told herself.

Of course even when she made her way into the bathroom and found herself under the shower spray she still couldn't escape it.

This stream of memories playing out in front of her in living color. Now in the glass shower cube all she could see was yet another wildly hot mirage of herself and Santana. It was like she was seeing ghosts, Brittany thought watching the scene play out.

Water cascaded down their bodies as Santana went to hold mirage Brittany from behind and run slow but playful kisses along the side of her neck that had Brittany giggling and squeaking in her arms. All laughter however ceased when Santana's soapy hands ran over her, massaging the spot just underneath her breasts for several moments and eventually gliding to her hips where they stayed for awhile until one found it's way down, down, down and disappeared between Brittany's legs and the other squeezed the side of her ass. Then Brittany's light laughter turned into delicious little moans that filled the steamy stall.

Brittany took a gulp of air as she watched this memory act itself out before her, but she was quick to dash out of the cube when things started to get really hot. It felt weird, reliving it from an outsider's perspective, watching herself, watching Santana, watching their bodies.

She thought she had escaped it but then when she stepped out onto the soft, fuzzy rug and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself, there was another mirage.

She saw herself and Santana against the bathroom counter, wrapped up in each other so much that they paid no mind to the bottles of hand soap and cosmetics they knocked down and which scattered at their bare feet.

She quickly turned to walk out but skidded to a halt as she entered the bedroom. Another mirage of them had appeared and she almost slipped on the tile, convinced she was about to come into contact with them, but, instead she walked right through them which kind of gave her a shiver. However neither the mirage of herself or Santana seemed to notice, they were too caught up in their embrace.

This was getting annoying, and weird, Brittany thought as she hurriedly dressed herself and started a search for the keys to lock up. She knew they were somewhere around the place but locating them was going to be a little bit tricky as she stood in the center of the loft and did a complete turn in place because now all she could see was herself and Santana. A dozen different versions of them, all over the loft and all over each other in varying states of intimacy.

Overwhelmed and unable to run from any of the memories acting themselves out in this very intense and surreal way, she just stood and blinked unevenly as she took it all in.

There they were on the dining table. Brittany was on her back and had her legs wrapped around Santana who stood between them and leaned forward to run kisses all over her stomach and breasts. Her eyes were closed in a kind of reverence as Brittany gave herself to her.

And a few feet away? There they were again bare assed naked in the elegant sleek lounge chair. Brittany was sitting in Santana's lap feeding her ice cream for breakfast and doing a poor job of it as she started tipping the half melted treat out of the spoon and onto Santana's stomach and thighs. She immediately of course started licking it up with wicked glee.

Brittany heard laughter and jerked around to see a different pair.

They were on the floor on top of the giant floor pillows having a naked tickle fight with Brittany wiggling around until she eventually got the upper hand and had Santana shaking with laughter beneath her. Her whole body vibrating in mirth as she half heartedly begged Brittany to stop her tickle attack.

And across from them was yet another pair. These two however were in no frenzy like many of the others and were slowly making love on the couch in front of the large window of the loft as the gauzy curtains blew and twirled nearby. Santana was so very gentle, so very slow as she carefully eased Brittany to lie on her back. Brittany stared upwards, smiling at her like she was looking at a miracle. Santana tenderly placed her hands on Brittany's body and wrapped each of her legs around her so she could settle herself down against her fully. Her body blanketing Brittany's. She didn't move though, at least not at the start, instead Santana pressed her forehead against Brittany's own and just hugged her. Just held her and listened to their heartbeats in sync.

In a flash Brittany recalled every moment, every touch, every laugh and every kiss they'd had in the loft.

''I love you,'' one of the mirage Santana's whispered to her Brittany.

''I love you,'' said another Santana, her face buried in blonde hair.

''I love you,'' and another.

Eventually all of the I love yous started to run into each other, on top of each other until that was all Brittany could her. A chorus of I love yous from the perfect hypnotizing timber of Santana's voice. Sometimes in a whisper, sometimes in a laugh, sometimes in a moan, sometimes in a drowsy mumble as their slick bodies fell against each other.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It was beautiful, Brittany thought to herself, they were beautiful.

And she couldn't believe she had screwed up the most beautiful, perfect, profound thing she had ever known.

A half hour later Brittany was walking Liberty Avenue when she received a text an attached picture from Brian.

'Why does your girlfriend look like racoon roadkill?' Brian asked.

Brittany studied the picture. It seemed Justin and Brian were having breakfast at the diner and had spotted a solo Santana. Brian being the nosy bitch he could sometimes be had covertly snapped a pic of her that was not the most flattering and sent it to Brittany with the caption.

She quickly turned herself around and rushed towards the diner which she entered not ten minutes later. It was bustling with a mid-morning rush but her eyes immediately fell to the booth in the corner at the front of the building where Santana was tucked away looking like a zombie and flicking a finger at the sugar packets lying on top of the table.

Brittany chanced a glance over towards the back of the building where she spotted Justin and Brian digging into their meals and chattering away with each other. Justin stopped mid-chew however to happily holler ''Britt!'' loudly to the entire building in an attempt to get her attention. He was waving her over.

Unfortunately his shouting her name seemed to get Santana's attention. She looked up and locked eyes with Brittany for a split second before she began to launch herself out of her booth, making for the door in a swift stride and completely passing Brittany by without making eye contact.

''Santana.'' Brittany called out and squirmed past customers and wait staff to follow her out through the front door. ''I thought we were done chasing each other.''

There standing in front of the Liberty Diner's large front window Santana turned around and came to halt. ''Who says I'm running?''

Brittany took the few steps to join her, careful and soft in her approach. ''You kinda just took off on me.''

Santana's voice was deadpan as she shrugged. ''Yeah well, I'm not feeling so hot. I had one of the diner's famous Pink Plate Specials. They're delicious but notoriously disgusting.''

''I just want to talk.''

''What's there to talk about?''

''San.''

''Look let's do this later, I don't have the energy .''

''You look...exhausted,'' Brittany said and didn't bother to fight the automatic response she felt, to reach and cup one of her cheeks. She stroked her thumb against tan skin soothingly as she looked into tired brown eyes.

Santana didn't pull away but she didn't sink into the touch either.

''Where did you sleep?''

''I didn't really. The diner is open 24 hours, I just hung with Deb until she went home, then stayed around to keep Kiki company as she prepped for her early morning shift. Girl gives the best contouring advice.''

''Right.'' Brittany mustered a small but sorrowful smile. ''She really does.''

''Yeah.''

There was an ease and lightness to the moment which Brittany hoped was a good sign. At least she took it as one as she pressed on.

''I missed waking up with you.''

Santana shook her head and gently pulled at Brittany's hand, carefully bringing it down and away from her face. It stung Brittany as she watched Santana turn to look out at the street and the cars slowly driving past them, very purposely avoiding looking at Brittany. ''I don't know what you want me to say.''

''Anything...anything would be good.''

Santana inhaled deeply and nodded to herself. ''What you said last night fucking hurt. How about that.''

Brittany swallowed. She was expecting this. ''I know...I know and I'm sorry. That was the last thing I was trying to do.''

''Well it did...you did.''

''I wasn't planning on saying any of that. At least not that way. It just came out wrong and rushed and-and I hate seeing you hurt and I hate knowing that I was the one who hurt you but I want to make it right.''

They were quite literally standing inches apart but Santana felt so far away and as Santana remained silent Brittany could feel these invisible, heartbreaking miles between them grow.

''We should go home and talk,'' she started. ''We can sit down and I can even heat up the leftovers from last night, there's like a ton of it. It's always better the second day anyway.''

''I don't think that's a good idea.''

''We can do something else then,'' Brittany suggested eagerly. She wasn't ready or willing to roll over without a fight. She had to fix this. ''Please?''

''Don't.''

''Then what? Whatever it is I'll do it. Just tell me what to say or do to make this better.''

''I don't think it's that simple.''

''Are you saying we're broken up?'' Brittany's voice cracked as she forced herself to swallow that small but horrible lump that began to form in the back of her throat. ''If that's what you think I wanted last night, it's not, it's not, Santana, it's not.''

''No, I know, and we're not,'' Santana rushed to assure her. ''We're not, we aren't. But last night you said you believe in us...and okay, maybe that's true, but after thinking about it all night I'm not sure that you believe that I believe in us.''

Santana looked hurt and exhausted and about a million other things that broke Brittany's heart.

''I was just scared, I was just stupid-''

''You're not stupid,'' Santana said urgently. No matter what else was going on, she never wanted to hear Brittany think that of herself. ''Listen I know in our relationship I've done a lot of running, from you, from the world, from my feelings, but this here now...this isn't me running or walking away from you or us. I'm here on Liberty Avenue until the end of summer with you...and when we go home we'll be going home together but...after last night...hearing what you said...I just need a minute. Maybe you do too.''

Brittany sniffed. ''I don't need time.''

''I think you do. If those ideas are running around in your head about me, or us...I think you do, Britt.''

Brittany was thoroughly confused why it sounded like Santana was putting the ball in her court when she felt it was the other way around. After all Santana had been the one to walk away and Brittany had been the one to walk after her, and yet here Santana was, looking weary and defeated, making it seem like it was the other way around and doing so without an ounce of anger or rage in her tone. There was just this sort of sad acceptance.

''Look I'm gonna go,'' Santana announced softly and started to pull away. ''I'm going to grab a shower at the loft and maybe get some sleep. So. I guess I'll see you around.''

''That's really how we're ending this conversation,'' Brittany tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding like a sob. ''I'll see you around?'' She tried to affectionately tug at Santana for more. She needed her so much closer. ''That's it?''

''For now I think it has to be.''

''We're more than that Santana.''

''Yeah we are. It's why I really want you to take this minute and figure out where last night came from.''

''It came from me wanting to make sure you knew you had a choice and knowing that I love you enough to give it to you but now that I know you don't need it we can just go back...why can't we just go back.''

''We can't just go back because you and I both know that wasn't what it was about, or at least not all of it. Whatever last night was, it was more about you than it was about me.''

''What do you mean?''

''I mean you might have convinced yourself what you said was for my benefit somehow, but it's not. It wasn't.'' Santana shook her head as if she were still trying to wrap her head around the idea. ''I think you need to face the fact that...you're the scared one this time, Brittany.''

And with a final sorrowful glance Santana turned and began walking away leaving Brittany confused and even more lonely as she stood on the sidewalk. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and closed her eyes tightly, pushing down the urge to burst into tears.

Deep down she knew Santana was right, because deep down Santana knew her. Better than she knew herself. She couldn't be angry or even upset at her reasoning. There was truth behind it because there was truth behind everything Santana said. Still, it didn't make it any easier for her to hear or accept, but it was what it was and she had to admit maybe the fears and worries running around in her head were more about her than about where Santana stood or what Santana felt.

Confronted with that Brittany was now forced to ask herself why that was and where it came from.

And truthfully she hadn't a damned clue where to begin.

Since when was she ever scared of anything?

''What do you think that was about?'' Justin turned and asked Brian who sat on the other side of the booth.

They were still sitting in their seats, they had both set aside their food in order to watch the exchange between Santana and Brittany through the front window of the diner. Justin frowned when he saw his cousin looking distressed as she walked off in the opposite direction of Santana who had made her own departure looking equally as ruffled as Brittany.

Something was definitely up with those two, Justin thought, and it worried him. Other than their first night on Liberty Avenue it was the only time he had ever seen Brittany and Santana not surgically attached at the hips, or lips for that matter. It was odd and off putting to see the usually affectionate couple carry on together in what looked like a tension filled conversation.

''No clue,'' Brian replied with a shrug and took a sip of his coffee.

''They looked like they were both upset.''

''Whatever it is it's none of our business.''

Justin shook his head at that, Brian could be so flippant at times. Regardless Justin made to pull money out of his wallet and toss it onto the table while Brian remained glued to his seat. ''I'm going to go catch up with Britt and see if she's okay...''

''Do you really think that's for the best?''

''Brittany's my cousin, whatever happens to her or hurts her is my business.''

''Of course,'' Brian said with a single but serious nod. ''But it's her relationship. Those get messy sometimes. If anyone knows that it's us. Whatever we just witnessed, we should leave it alone.''

''That's easy for you to say. That wasn't your family member who looked like they were in tears.''

''Hey just because I think we should leave it alone doesn't mean I don't care,'' Brian said, because yes he could be a shit but he was often a very reasonable objective shit. ''I think they're both smart enough to deal with their own crap without other people interfering.''

Justin nodded slowly. He supposed he could see the sense in that. He did plan to lend a comforting shoulder but perhaps it was best not to poke his nose into things and let his cousin go to him when she was ready to confide.

''I guess so,'' he said and leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable again now that he had thought better of giving chase. ''They were fine the last time I saw them though. I wonder what Santana did...''

''Uh who said Santana did anything?'' Brian scoffed at his boyfriend through laughter and reached over to steal a piece of bacon from his plate. ''Why do you assume she did something?''

Justin cracked a grin. ''Well...I mean...Brittany is a literal angel so.''

''That literal angel was doing shots with me like two nights ago,'' Brian said and continued to chuckle at Justin's inability or refusal to see Brittany as anything but perfect and sweet and light. ''I have a soft spot for her you know that but she's not perfect. You're just blinded by your super blonde connection to each other to see that. Who is to say Brittany didn't do something to upset Santana huh?''

Justin couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was adorable to see Brian to go out of his way to stick his neck out for the brunette girl. ''This is cute. I love this. You're defending Santana.''

''I'm not defending her,'' Brian pffted playfully. ''I'm just saying we don't know. And for the record you know what Santana was doing last night when I called her? She was out at a store buying bags of gummy worms for your cousin just because. Santana's an asshole with a heart of gold and as a fellow asshole with a heart of gold I don't think it's fair to just assume she's the root of whatever the hell is between them right now.''

''It's sweet that you're sticking up for her.'' Justin beamed, touched by his boyfriend's sudden loyalty to their new friend. ''You're sweet.''

''Puh I'm not sweet, I'm evil. How dare you.''

''But you're right,'' Justin continued as he realized how presumptuous he was being. ''We don't know and I can't assume anything simply because Brittany's my cousin. That's not fair to Santana.''

''I'm sure Brittany will come to you if she needs you,'' Brian offered thoughtfully only to immediately turn playful as he moved their conversation along. ''Besides who's to say their little tiff won't be over by tonight. Watch, we'll all go out and have a drink, everyone can do a little karaoke and before you know it they'll be their usual selves and your cousin will be back to backing her ass up into Santana on the dance floor in no time. Fun will be had and all will be right with the world.''

Justin squinted at him. Brian sounded uncharacteristically chipper at the prospect of an evening out with their friends on karaoke night. It was strange, Justin thought, mostly because every other night they had joined the group for tunes at the bar it had put Brian in a peculiar and sullen mood. Now here he was looking eager and excited for it. He usually only looked like that if he was plotting something wicked. Or there was the promise of sex.

''Are you up to something?'' Justin asked with a playful but suspicious twinkle in his eye.

''What makes you think I'm up to something?'' Brian replied slyly with nonchalance.

''Your face.''

''Maybe I'm just looking forward to going out tonight. I mean I have been brainstorming some new insults for Ted lately.'' Brian pulled out a small pocket notebook out of nowhere and opened it up to read. ''I've been keeping track of them in this book Santana gave me. She keeps track of her insults in one too and it's actually a really useful method in perfecting syntax.''

''You know underneath all the ridiculously expensive clothing, styled hair and the sneers you and her are kind of giant dorks.''

Physically and emotionally exhausted Santana guided herself back to the loft where she sighed to herself as she took in the strange stillness of the space.

She really hated having to put some distance between herself and Brittany but after spending hours raging in frustration the previous night it had finally come to her in a moment of calm in the clear light of day.

Santana knew what fear and doubt felt like, or more importantly she knew what they looked like. She also knew they could make you do and say things to deflect and distract out of desperation. Over the years Santana had gotten the handle on fear and how to navigate, work alongside it, how to hide it from the world. She was in a better place now and that was no longer the case, however Brittany, as far as Santana could tell, had never known fear.

Once Santana had settled down and the tears and anger and hurt had subsided she could see that. Brittany was feeling something she had never known before and as a result was responding in a very reactionary way. It wasn't wrong, it wasn't out of spite, it wasn't anything, it just...was.

And it was something Brittany had to sort out for herself with herself.

Santana wasn't about to walk away from what they had, not for one second, but she did think they both needed a minute to catch their breath. She also needed to allow Brittany the space and time to come to grips with what exactly she was afraid of and what that meant and ultimately, how she could help her walk through it.

She snoozed for most of the day and only really began to feel like herself as the sun began to set. She took a long hot shower and walked out to find nearly a dozen messages on her phone. Hunter, Daphne, Lindsay and Emmett among others, were texting and urging her to get down to Woody's for karaoke and have a drink or two with them. Brian's text simply said 'get your ass down here, Lopez, I need some fucking moral support'.

She rolled her eyes and but did eventually get dressed and make her way down to the avenue once it was dark.

She entered Woody's and found most of the group congregating in a corner.

Brittany was nowhere in sight which both worried and relieved Santana. Worried her because it had been several hours since they had last spoken, but it also relieved her because honestly, the last thing she felt like doing was getting into another conversation and run the risk of bursting into tears. And there was no way in hell she wanted the group to see her cry, especially Brian. He'd probably make some snotty pissy little remark and she just wasn't in the mood.

She started towards the group occupying a couple of small tall tables as well as the pool table where Melanie seemed to be in the middle of a game with Brian. While their friends laughed and goofed and munched on chicken wings nearby, the lawyer and the ad exec appeared to be taking this game very seriously. Both of them were in deep concentration.

Emmett, meanwhile, lit up when he spotted Santana. ''Oh my god, I'm glad you're here.'' He linked an arm around her and guided her to one of their tall tables where Santana immediately made herself at home by stealing Michael's drink. The comic book store owner only huffed for a moment before shrugging it off. Emmett began to speak excitedly, ''I was trying to talk a few of our mutual friends here into doing a Spice Girls medley with me but no one seems that interested-''

''Hey,'' Michael interjected loudly, ''I said I'd be willing to take part until you told me that I had to be Baby Spice.''

''Yeah and I said I'm in if I can be Ginger,'' Lindsay interjected.

''Linds, sweetie, I love you to bits but there's no way in hell you're a Ginger, okay, I'm the Ginger here and you need to let it go,'' Emmett said to his friend softly as if explaining it to a small child. ''You can be Baby now that Michael is out.'' He then turned his attention back to Santana and bumped his hip into hers playfully. ''But you, Santana, are the embodiment of Posh Spice, so whaddaya say? You in? With you and Lindsay on board I think I can talk Melanie into being our Sporty-''

''Motherfucking fucker!'' Melanie comically exclaimed to no one and nothing in particular as she screwed up one of her pool shots while Brian snickered nearby, delighting in her outburst.

Emmett winced at the woman's growl of frustration. ''On second thought, maybe Melanie is best suited to be Scary Spice.''

''I can see that,'' Santana said, tilting her head in acknowledgement but tried to wiggle her way out of his invitation. ''But I don't know, Emmett, I really wasn't in the mood to sing. I just came to be a bystander tonight.''

''But you're so good at performing!'' Emmett encouraged sweetly. ''You and Brittany both. Oooo, you know she would make an excellent Sporty.'' Emmett then did a spin in place, scanning the rest of the building. ''Where is your girlfriend by the way? Didn't see her come in with you. Which reminds me, she and I have to reschedule my Fondue For Two appearance soon.''

''Yeah uh.'' Santana blinked and downed what was left of her stolen drink on in one gulp. She really did not want to explain what was going on to the group before her. She had grown to care about each of them in her own way, sure, but spewing out her emotions to them in a public setting? Not quite there yet. Not that she doubted they wouldn't try to lend a supportive shoulder, but still. ''I'm not sure, we've kind of been busy today doing our own things. Haven't really touched base with her since, like, this morning. I don't know if she was coming or not.''

''Aww, that's a bummer,'' Hunter said, with half of his face covered in sauce from his wings.

''Yeah, I was really hoping to do another duet with her,'' Daphne hummed sadly.

Santana just shrugged and forced a false smile at them before taking a few steps away to escape towards the pool table where Melanie and Brian had since called it a game and were having a drink together as they leaned against the table, both of their sticks still in hand.

''Play me?'' Santana propositioned Brian and made a nod down to the green felt.

Melanie immediately handed over her pool stick with ease. ''Do me a favor, kid, kick his ass,'' the lawyer said and gave Santana a firm pat on the shoulder as she left them to it.

Brian downed the last of his beer and then started preparing for their game and racking the balls up. Santana meanwhile began to slowly circle the table and chalk her tip.

''So where's your boyfriend?'' she asked.

Using his pool cue Brian motioned over to a corner where Justin was sitting at a table alone talking on a phone.

''He had a call, sounded important. As soon as he's done with it and as soon as karaoke starts up I'm gonna make that stage my little bitch,'' he said.

Santana frowned and took a shot at the table. Her ball made a loud cracking sound as it made contact with the others, sending several of them to scatter around.

''Where's your girlfriend?''

''Around I'm sure.''

Brian squinted at her and as if realizing the bite in her tone was more aggressive than it usually was, he asked, ''are you okay?''

''Of course I'm okay, why the hell would I not be okay?''

''I don't know. This just isn't our usual charming banter. Come on.'' He picked up his stick and tapped her lightly on the side with it trying to prompt her, like something an annoying brother would do. He had a punchable little smirk on his face as he sing-songed to her. ''Say something bitchy about clothes or my hair...''

She smacked his pool stick away. ''No.''

''You know you want toooooo.''

''Fine, okay, you look fabulous this evening,'' she said completely deadpan.

''You're no fun tonight,'' he sighed with what sounded like a tinge of sadness as he bent over and got in position to aim up his own shot.

She knew what he meant. She had become quite accustomed and fond of her and Brian's bitchy back and forth. It was challenging and refreshing to go head to head with someone on her level. But tonight? She didn't have the energy or the will.

''Just shut up and play the fucking game Kinney,'' she said gruffly.

Brian lit up at her acidic tongue making itself known. ''Now that's more like it...by the way you still suck at pool.''

''Yeah well, I tend not to excel at games in which I have to handle a bunch of balls, so.''

On the other side of the bar Justin sat and poked at a bowl of peanuts as he spoke on the phone. His eyes were on Brian and Santana as they engaged at the pool table.

''...Why don't you come down to Woody's? Karaoke night again. I think Emmett is trying to put a super group together, he probably needs you. I mean you and I are the best dancers.''

''Yeah, I just don't think I'm in the mood Justin,'' Brittany replied on her side of the conversation.

''Are you sure?''

''I'm sure.''

''I tried to call you earlier to see if you wanted to catch a movie.''

''I know, I'm sorry, I've just been busy today. I was trying to find this place on Liberty Avenue but I kept getting turned around and just ended up taking a long walk.''

''Everything's okay right? Cause you know you can tell me anything.''

''I know and I will, but not tonight okay? I think I'm just gonna go to the loft, Santana's there and-''

''Actually she's here,'' Justin said. ''She just walked in a couple of minutes ago.''

''She's there?''

''Yeah she's playing pool with Brian and I think she just made fun of his shoes but it looks like he likes it, I don't know, they're weird together.''

''...you know what? Do me a favor, put my name down on the list for karaoke tonight.''

''So you're coming?''

''Yeah I'm hailing a cab right now, just don't tell Santana.''

''Are you sure everything's all right?'' Justin asked with concern.

''Probably not but if being in glee club has taught me anything it's that if you're desperate sing about it. Put my name on the list.''

A/N: so this is actually half of a chapter, the other half just isn't ready yet. Or at least I don't feel like it's the best it can be. I've been stuck on a scene for weeks so I kind of took a break to see if an organic way to go about something would present itself to me. I think I may have figured it out, we'll see. I just felt like posting something tonight though.