Holy great balls of reviews everyone! You totally blew my mind with the amount of feedback on the last chapter; pressure is on to live up to the hype. I hope I succeed and you enjoy what's to come. I'm glad you all liked Biker!Britt, she's pretty hot (as I picture her in my mind since I obviously won't ever get to see the real thing.)

Chapter 8: Caution: Hazardous to Touch

"That was for being you, Pierce." The furious hazel-eyed woman seethes through her teeth in an abrupt but extremely feminine voice before turning and strutting back towards the open door of her garage. Brittany can't say that she's stunned, but she also can't say she was exactly expecting such a slap.

"Well, that was quite the welcome." Santana's voice carries a cold edge to it. There's something about it that makes Brittany flinch because now she's kind of second guessing her brilliant decision to bring Santana along for this charade. Granted, it's probably best to get things out in the open, considering they were a breath away from kissing only a moment ago, but that doesn't make the prospect any easier to look forward to.

Brittany doesn't answer Santana for a second, instead favoring to rub the sting of the slap out of her cheek. When she does speak it's with a shrug and carefulness to her tone.

"Yeah, Peyton's always had a bit of a sassy streak."

"Your girlfriend might just be certifiably crazy."

Brittany's head whips around to witness the look on Santana's face that goes with those less than kindly given words. Sure enough, Santana's features are unreadable and void of any emotion, similar to how Brittany's heart feels like at the time being. Something inside of Brittany moves her to correct the wrongness of Santana's previous statement, if only to clear the air.

"Ex-girlfriend actually-"

"And it seems like she's got a little bit of that blood thirsty come at you thing going on. Bang up job picking that one." Santana interrupts before Brittany even has the chance to finish her statement. The woman seems like she's on a rampage to point out the fact that Peyton being anything to Brittany bothers her. She's obviously refusing to hear that Brittany is decidedly not dating the curly haired woman responsible for the red mark etched into her cheek.

"Did I mention she's my ex-girlfriend? As in that's come and gone. And she's not that bad, she's just a little…edgy sometimes. Besides, I'd be careful what you say, she has a gun and she's not afraid to use it. I've been threatened enough with it to know that."

Santana looks like she's going to retort, but instead she changes her mind and goes with something else,

"Well then maybe you deserved the slap." She says as she folds her arms across her chest.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who ever deserves to get slapped?" Brittany defends herself incredulously her hands flailing about a little before they fall limply at her sides and she sighs in defeat, "Maybe I did. But I don't deserve this. Can we just go in and get the stuff and get back to the shop?"

Santana shrugs her shoulders, intent on acting totally and completely unfazed by the whole situation. "I just came along for the ride remember? I swear though, if she tries to hit me I'll punch the bitch."

"Fair enough, though you should know she's got a mean right hook."

Santana waits, anything but the picture of patience as she taps her foot against the broken asphalt she stands on and her arms remain firmly crossed over her chest. Brittany swings her leg over and off the bike to safely dismount it before running her fingers through her hair and pulling it up in a high ponytail. When she's done she glances over her shoulder and inclines her head for Santana to follow her. The woman does, but she makes sure to let out an exasperated huff before doing so.

Brittany walks through the shop door first, and the instant Santana walks through she hears that same abrupt voice from earlier ring out through the shop in a not so hospitable tone.

"Skank can stay at the door B."

Santana blanches. How dare this clearly screwy curly haired woman say such a thing to her.

"Listen here Shirley Temple, I-" Santana begins to say but a strong arm being wrapped around her waist suddenly cuts her off as Brittany speaks up next to her.

"It's okay Peyton, she's cool."

Santana's slightly surprised when she finds this Peyton woman's eyebrows rising in a similar fashion to how her own.

"Is she…?" Peyton asks, but trails off towards the end. Santana's eyes narrow because she thinks she knows where this line of questioning is going and she's not sure she'd like Brittany to be the sole responder.

"She's with my crew now." Brittany says and Santana catches the particular edge in her voice. It's not cold but it's definitely chilly, and it's completely no room for discussion. Peyton takes a moment to study Brittany before her eyes flit over to Santana and give her a once over as well. Santana makes sure to display her very best HBIC sneer, she wants this bitch to know what's what, and that you don't call Santana Lopez no skank. In the process of going about her show of being the one who knows what's up, Santana also gets another idea. She shifts in her position, leaning further into Brittany.

"That's right, I'm with her…crew." She says making sure to emphasize a few particular words and lean still further into Brittany. She wants to make sure that Peyton is aware she can't just go around and talk shit about her to her girl. Wait, her girl? No, she means Brittany. Her acquaintance friend Brittany, who's a girl. That's what Santana means. Peyton studies both women for a second before she shrugs like it just doesn't bother her.

"Whatever. Here's your stuff Pierce." She says reaching for a brown paper bag and tossing it, and whatever contents that are contained within it, towards Brittany who catches it with her free hand, her other hand which is still wrapped around Santana's waist, squeezes briefly in an effort to keep her balance. Brittany takes a moment to inspect the merchandise, her hand slipping slightly from its place on Santana's body. Santana takes a moment to pit a glare on Peyton.

"Looks good, thanks P. Sawyer." Brittany says after a few seconds have gone by and she takes a step back, with the intention of having Santana follow her. She's about half way to the shop exit, Santana on her heels, when Peyton's voice calls out behind them.

"Not so fast Pierce, you still owe me two large for that and another three for what you have coming."

Santana watches as Brittany visibly flinches at the other woman's words, undoubtedly not expecting them. She's not shocked when Brittany turns slowly back to face the curly haired blonde, an incredibly sweet but entirely fake smile plastered across her face.

"Aww Pey," The way Brittany says it has Santana clenching her fists at her sides because she knows that the blonde has used that tone before, and she's betting it's led to things that she doesn't want to think about. "Can't you just put it on my tab?" Brittany then asks, still overly sweet and gushing with so much fakeness, Santana's wondering if they didn't magically deposit themselves in some sort of silicone factory.

Santana watches carefully as the hard lines that cover Sawyer's face slowly disappear the longer she's exposed to Brittany's honey sweet pout and pleading big blue eyes. She rolls her eyes and almost scoffs out loud. Who falls for that shit anyway?

"You already owe me a lot Pierce." Santana's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Is this tatted up badass chick really falling for Brittany's little play? What the hell is going on? Santana finds that her head is playing a very extreme game of back and forth as her eyes focus between Brittany and Peyton and then back to Brittany.

"I'll make it up to you." Somehow the words sound like they mean so much more and something pulls at Santana's chest. She clenches her fist at her side again, she's angry and frustrated and she's too damn tired and fed up with things to really think about why. She watches as Peyton's eyebrow quirks in an arch at Brittany's words, but still she seems to fall into the trap that Brittany has set for her.

"I'll hold you to that Pierce. No freebies anymore."

With that Brittany nods and turns to head back towards the garage exit. There's a moment where Santana stands and stares at Peyton, whose own eyes are acutely focused on the retreating Brittany, and she's almost positive either she or the other woman across the shop is about to burn a whole in the wall or something with how intense their stares are. Brittany's voice shakes Santana out of her reserve and she focuses her attention back on blue eyes that regard her with curiosity.

"Ready to go?" Brittany asks and Santana doesn't hesitate to nod. The faster she gets out of this place and away from this unpredictable woman the better. Brittany waits for Santana to fall in step with her and they both walk out of the shop together. Brittany remains close, but her hand placement is respectful, just barely nudging Santana along by resting one hand on her hip. They get to the bike and Brittany steps away from Santana to strap the goodies in the brown paper bag in the little saddle box compartment hanging off the side of the bike.

That's about the time that Santana suddenly becomes curious as to what exactly Brittany just purchased from the unpredictable blonde back in the shop, and whether or not it's legal.

"Are those drugs?"

Brittany glances at Santana with a half humorous half incredulous look. As if to say 'Are you serious right now', Santana on the other hand thinks it's a legitimate question. She shrugs to say as much.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see." Brittany replies and receives an eye roll precisely point two seconds later. She chuckles a little; Santana can be incredibly predictable sometimes. She motions towards the bike to signal Santana should get on, but the woman simply crosses her arms over her chest and glares blankly. With a shrug Brittany swings her leg over the bike and straddles the seat, she tilts it up from its resting position and kicks the kickstand back into place. Her feet are steady on both sides of the bike, balancing the machine expertly between her legs. It's heavy but not so much when she's upright like she is, the balance the bike carries by itself makes it a cakewalk to handle.

When everything's looking good and the gear is strapped in and ready, Brittany turns and glances over her shoulder at Santana while she holds out the helmet and gives the woman an expectant look. Santana takes the helmet with a quirked eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be wearing a helmet too?"

Brittany smiles at the question but gives a roundabout answer, "You weren't too concerned with my head on the ride over here."

"Maybe I just thought that your exceptionally large ego would help cushion any blows."

"Aww, are you worried about me?" She's having a lot of fun seeing how far she can push Santana. The girl just looks so adorable when she's squirming.

Santana shrugs her shoulder as she gets the helmet strapped on. She brushes a few strands of invisible dirt from her jeans before her brown eyes gaze back up into blue.

"Not so much you as I am me, since I'll be riding with you it's about my own safety you know."

Brittany rolls her eyes in good humor. Santana would say something like that.

"Well hop on up sweet lady lips. You rode with me once, guess you'll just have to trust me." She says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"You're really stubborn. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"Yeah every single person I've ever met, I kind of have a record going so I'm glad you said something. Now chop chop, we don't have all day and you'll probably face the wrath of Peyton if you stay here any longer. It's kind of obvious that she really doesn't like you."

"Not my fault she's certifiable."

Brittany chuckles, "It is kind of hot though. Makes me think about why we got together in the first place. Sure there's a lot of fighting and yelling and screaming at each other but then the make-up s-"

"Could we not discuss that right now? I'm already going to have a hard time riding on a bike with you, I certainly don't need any images of you and some other girl naked in my head." Santana interrupts her face pulling into a look of disgust. Brittany quirks and eyebrow and a smirk tug at the corner of her lips.

"And another girl? As in you already have naked pictures of me in your head to begin with?"

Santana's eyes go wide for a second before a faint but distinct pink tinges her cheeks. She narrows her eyes.

"You're unbelievable. If I get on this damn bike with you just shut up and drive?"

Brittany doesn't try very hard to suppress her laughter.

"As long as you hold on really tight. Wouldn't want you to come off too soon."

Santana groans in frustration at the other woman's words. With a flourish she jerks the helmet on over her hair and stomps the four feet over to the bike. Brittany's smiling at her knowingly the whole way and even makes it a point to pat the spot behind her to signify Santana can hop on up. The other woman huffs and crosses her arms but slinks over to the bike and swings her leg over it to straddle the space directly behind Brittany.

Brittany's smirking the whole time, and she faces forward again for a second to press the ignition and engage the bike, which roars to life beneath her and rumbles with the vibrations of the powerful engine. When she adjusts her position in the seat, sitting upright with her right leg flat on the ground keeping the bike balanced and upright, and her left at the gear shift ready to press it down into first, Brittany notices that Santana is still sitting behind her with her arms folded across her chest like a stubborn mule who refuses to move.

"Better hold on, it's going to be a little bumpy." Brittany calls over her shoulder, turning her eyes to glance at Santana. Brown eyes narrow in challenge to Brittany's words, but Santana makes no move to hold on. Brittany shrugs her shoulder as if it doesn't matter and shifts the bike into first. She makes it a point to torque the throttle a little more than necessary, launching the bike forward more quickly than normal and smirks to herself when Santana gives a little squeal behind her and quickly wraps her arms tightly around her waist.

With that, Brittany rides off into the evening. She tries to ignore the fact that the sun is setting off in the distance of the Nevada dessert.

##################

The ride back to the shop is interesting to say the least. Brittany made it a point to go a little faster on straight a ways and lean a little further on corners causing Santana to become practically squished to her back from holding on so tightly. It seemed like a great plan at the time, but now all that's done for Brittany is seriously amp her up with the way Santana's body feels pressed so closely to her own.

She brings the bike to a stop outside the shop entrance and glances over her shoulder to see the top part of Santana's helmet, she can feel the girls cheek pressed somewhere against her back. As Brittany starts to sit up straight there's suddenly a raspy soft voice sighing in her ear as one of Santana's hands shifts from its position around her waist and reaches out to brush along Brittany's inner left forearm.

"I never noticed that before." Her fingertips brush over the black and red colors inked into the skin.

Brittany tries not to shiver at the way the cool breath released with Santana's words and the feeling of her light but intense touch travels through her body like an electric current. The intensity of it is almost frightening, and she damn near falls off her bike. With a thick swallow, attempting to mask any sort of shakiness that might be apparent in her voice, Brittany gives her reply to Santana.

"Maybe you just weren't looking close enough."

Brittany's surprised that the words come out sounding a lot more frank than she intended, she's not sure if she's upset that Santana just noticed now or mad that she noticed at all. Does it even matter? She feels Santana shift around in the seat behind her as the woman puts some distance between their bodies. Brittany turns to look over her shoulder and her breath catches in her throat as she watches Santana remove her helmet and shake her hair out glamorously in the nonexistent wind.

It's pretty damn sexy. Like Maxim photo shoot in a cute little bikini sexy. God, now Brittany's thinking about Santana in a bikini, a red one, and this has to stop.

"Well maybe if you'd open yourself up a little more to me, I'd notice things faster." Santana retorts and Brittany is drawn back from her fantasies by the words. She snaps out of her thoughts and fixes a glare on Santana, talking openly is not an option for Brittany; she doesn't care how attractive the girl in question wanting to talk is. With a huff Brittany cuts the engine and puts the kickstand down, swinging her leg up and off the bike and pushing a few loose bangs out of her eyes as she steps away from the bike a little.

She has a retort bound and ready to throw at Santana but when she turns to give it to the woman all she finds is that smoldering mysterious look that's glinting in Santana's eyes, it stops any words she would have said dead in their tracks. Santana glancing up through her thick lashes, averting her eyes for a moment from Brittany's forearm to gaze deep into her eyes.

"What's it mean?" She asks and Brittany is thrown off for a moment before her brain catches up with the thoughts and feelings that are pouring out of her heart and she realizes Santana's changed the subject and is easing into a different line of questioning. One that Brittany thinks she'll be able to answer.

"It's the symbol for fate. It's been my family's insignia for years." Brittany replies while absentmindedly brushing her fingers across the tattoo as she speaks. Santana nods along to Brittany's words and slowly reaches her own hand back out so her own fingertips stroke over the colored skin. The action sends a tremor through Brittany's body, and it's not only because Santana looked really good stretching out from the bike that she's still sitting on.

"Your dad came up with it?" Santana asks. It's not said in a forceful or demanding way, and Brittany appreciates the effort. She nods her response.

"Yeah, shortly after he…after he met my mom." The last part of her sentence trails off in such a way that it makes Santana suspect that Brittany wants to say more, but she's still not quite sure how to start or where to begin. Santana doesn't want to push Brittany into anything.

"Hec came up with the name for us. Said everyone deserves the chance to change his or her fate. Free will is his motto." She chooses to say instead and receives a chuckle from Brittany.

"It's funny how our crews are complete opposites yet here we are functioning together." She says and garners a playful eye roll from Santana.

"Well, I don't know how well we're all getting along but maybe if you hadn't been so stubborn things could have progressed nicer, faster and earlier."

"Me, stubborn?" Brittany scoffs, "Please, have you watched yourself lately. You're so stubborn that I bet if I told you to get off this bike right now you'd flat out refuse just because you wouldn't want to give into me." She finishes raising a challenging eyebrow in Santana's direction.

"Well now I just don't want to get off because I don't know what you might do to me when I do."

"So regardless of what I say it doesn't matter and you're not going to get off the bike no matter what?"

Santana shakes her head 'no' and a grin breaks out across Brittany's face.

"Okay, whatever you say angel face." She says before pointedly turning and walking away from Santana, leaving the woman sitting there on the bike. It takes about two minutes of Santana watching Brittany patter around in the bike shop, staining her white t-shirt with grease and smudging her cheek and neck with the black goo. With a small huff of frustration, Santana dismounts the bike and stalks over to where Brittany is bent over the handles of a bike, stripping away the panels to get to the chassis.

After removing the jacket that was leant to her by Brittany, Santana grabs at the hem of her top and tugs it up and over her head. Brittany's jaw drops as she notices the top being tugged over Santana's head as she glances towards the woman out of the corner of her eye. A firm sculpted tan stomach is on display for long enough to make Brittany's mouth water at the sight before the undershirt that Santana is wearing covers the skin again. Brittany has to quickly avert her eyes again the closer Santana comes over to her, swallowing the lump in her throat that's formed during these last few sexually charged moments.

Brittany's eyebrows rise as Santana comes to stand right in front of her. There's a knowing look in both of their eyes but Santana speaks up first.

"I didn't get off the bike for any other reason than to wipe that grease off your face because staring at it is driving me crazy." She says reaching up with her recently removed shirt to rub gently at the smudges along Brittany's face. Brittany tries, and fails miserably, at keeping her heart from fluttering in her chest at the fact that no one has ever been this kind to her and because she catches the double meaning behind Santana's words; the fact that the other woman had spent more than a few cursory seconds staring at her face. A smile graces pink lips as Brittany's eyes lock on the concentrated ones of Santana's.

"What?" The other woman asks, not removing her eyes from the task at hand but allowing a small smile to tug at her own lips. Brittany simply chuckles but shakes her head.

"Nothing."

Santana's eyes narrow, "Seriously Brittany, what?" She questions again, this time a little more demanding. Brittany just shrugs in reply.

"I was just thinking about how I called it. You didn't even last on that bike seat for more than three minutes."

Santana's hand pauses from its action but she shakes her head and laughs quietly to herself.

"I said I moved because you were getting yourself all dirty."

Brittany's eyebrows rise.

"Oh? That sounds intriguing." She says suggestively.

"God you're terrible. You seriously have a one track mind."

Brittany chuckles again, "What can I say, I'm a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it."

"Uhh huh, and what's that?" Santana asks, stepping back from Brittany as she finishes her task. Her arms automatically fold across her chest and her hip cocks to the side. It just makes Brittany smirk wider as her eyes trail slowly up and down the other woman's body, subtleties completely thrown out the window. Brittany loves to dance, but it's about time this dance became a little less roundabout.

"That's for me to know but you'll probably figure it out sometime soon."

The tone is laced with implications and Santana tries really hard not to trip into them. She swallows through the dryness coating her throat and shifts her eyes to a row of bikes next to her. Clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair she comments on them.

"These are really nice bikes."

Brittany walks over to Santana and stands by her side, surveying the bikes in front of her but not missing the opportunity to observe the woman beside her. If she's being honest, there's quite a bit to admire.

"Yeah, they are. Sometimes I have a hard time deciding which one I prefer more, bikes or cars."

Santana shoots her a look of disbelief, as if the very idea of deciding between the two is utterly absurd.

"That's easy-a car will get you further and get you there faster without the added risk of injury."

"But I don't think it's that simple. Bikes are more dangerous but they're also badass and sexy and mysterious in ways you could never imagine. Sure they run the risk of injury, but what's life without a little thrill?"

Santana's eyes regard Brittany in a very focused stare. Almost as if she's looking right through the woman and reading all of her thoughts, it makes Brittany shiver a little under the excitement of it all.

"You're not really talking much about bikes and cars anymore are you?"

Brittany chuckles a little at Santana's question, it stopped amazing her how canny the other woman is a while ago. Probably around the time she realized Santana is more interesting than bitch, and she became more of a fascination than a hindrance.

She takes a step towards one of the bikes, a Suzuki GSX-R 1000 that sports around 150 hp and top speeds of about 179 mph. In other words, it's a big fast bike. Brittany turns back around and nods Santana over. When the woman steps up to the bike, Brittany pats the seat.

"Hop on."

Santana's eyes go wide and skeptical. She's never really been a big bike person, not that she doesn't admire them it's more or less she's not as efficient with them as she is a car so she prefers to keep her distance. Brittany can see her hesitation.

"You should know what it feels like, just in case." She encourages the woman who takes a long moment to analyze her and her words before she steps towards the bike and throws her leg over the seat to straddle the frame and rest comfortably on the bike. Brittany smiles a little at how naturally it all seems to come to Santana. She takes a step closer to the bike, one hand on the left handle and reaches around Santana to press the ignition, her chest pressing into the other woman's back for a brief second.

Remaining essentially cradling Santana between her arms as one hand keeps a firm grip on the left handle and the other torques the throttle, Brittany makes the bike rumble beneath Santana's body and notes how a shiver runs over the exposed tan skin of the other woman's body. Brittany's lips are close to Santana's ear when she speaks in a hushed whisper, just loud enough for the other woman to hear over the rev of the bike's engine.

"Pretty amazing isn't it."

Santana is too wound up, unsure as to how to process being surrounded by Brittany like she is and tumbling through a void of emotions trying to figure out why she likes the feeling so much. The bike between her legs and Brittany subtly pressed into her back, whispering in her ear is all kinds of intense that Santana's not sure how to deal with. She merely has the capacity to nod in response to the blonde woman.

Brittany leans back a little, and shifts around the bike so she's standing on the right side, a more clear view of Santana and her red cheek tinted face visible to her.

"You look incredibly hot." The words come out before Brittany can even process and filter them in her mind. She can't say she regrets saying them, and judging by the way Santana's eyes flash to hers with a look of approval make saying them a little easier, but still Brittany's not usually one to lose all of her game in the spur of the moment. She's so thrown off by Santana though that half the time she can't catch her bearings.

"You can't say things like that." Santana murmurs in return, her eyes dropping slightly from where they had been focused on Brittany's face. She shakes her head slightly as if shaking a thought from her mind.

"Why not? It's the truth."

Santana's eyes are squeezed closed when she raises her head to Brittany's level again, and when they slowly flutter open there's a look of extreme restraint held behind the deep chocolate brown.

"Because, I'll start to think you've changed but I still think that's a ways in the future. You say things like that and I just might start to believe you." The last part comes out in a whisper and Brittany's drawn to the way Santana bites her bottom lip between her pearly white teeth with the words. She leans a little closer to Santana, the whole bike revving completely forgotten. Her eyes are locked on plump lips but they flit up to gaze into brown.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing." She's leaning in further and further and Santana doesn't seem to be protesting. But at the last second, Santana turns her head away from Brittany and pink lips connect with a warmed tan cheek instead of their original destination.

"We shouldn't." Santana mumbles and Brittany's really fighting to keep her frustration in.

"Why not?" She feels like she's been asking that a lot lately.

"There are things you still don't know about me." Is Santana's reply as she shifts away from Brittany's proximity, clearing the bike, which causes Brittany's hand to fall from its position on the backside of the seat. Her hand slips and briefly touches the overheated metal surrounding the previously high revved engine. She hisses as hot metal burns her skin and jerks her hand back.

She probably should have been expecting that; there's caution hazardous to touch signs all over the bike.

Santana takes a step back towards Brittany is concern and gently grips the pale hand between her own. The cool gentleness of Santana's touch makes Brittany instantly forget the pain, and as her eyes gaze up and lock with the other woman's again a jolt goes through her body. She's on the verge of trying again when she suddenly spots Quinn walking in their direction with a very determined look on her face. The shorter blonde reaches Brittany and Santana and gives a cursory glance towards the latter before looking straight at her taller blonde friend.

"There's something going down in the meeting room, Hunter's gathering people, says it's urgent and that you should be there." Quinn speaks formally and without care for pleasantries as she hooks her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the main building. Brittany quirks an eyebrow at her friend's words, she finds it funny that she would feel it necessary to elaborate that Hunter finds something urgent. She's hard pressed finding a time when anything Hunter thought wasn't urgent. Load of fucking bullshit.

Brittany turns her eyes to Santana, momentarily surprised to find the woman staring at her in question as if waiting to see how she will proceed. Brittany shrugs and turns back to Quinn.

"Whatever, I'm pretty much done with thinking that anything that comes out of Hunter's mouth is going to be worth my time, but I'll give him five minutes. It had better not be a waste of my time." Brittany tells her friend who shrugs as if bored with the world before she spins around and walks off towards the main building. Brittany glances in Santana's direction again.

"Suppose you should probably be here for whatever my dim-witted brother has to say. He has a knack for being extremely boring though."

Santana's lips remain pressed in a straight tight line, her eyes not shifting or adjusting in any way that would hint some form of amusement or agreement. Brittany shakes her head slightly at the woman's stubbornness, funny how the pot calls the kettle black sometimes. Funny how things can go so hot to cold between them sometimes. She turns away from Santana and starts heading off after Quinn, smirking a little when she hears the other woman shuffling behind her a few seconds later.

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Brittany's not surprised to find that Hunter stands at the head of the table of the conference room, poised like some hotshot CEO of some Fortune 500 company that's going to rally the troops and start a revolution with just a few well-spoken words.

She's quick to spot Puck in the room as well as Mike, Finn, Quinn, and Santana's other crewmember whom Brittany has not met yet. When she walks in, the first thing she sees is blue eyes lock on her own. The intensity of the stare is intimidating, and if Brittany didn't know any better, or wasn't used to similar attention on a regular basis, she might be a little scared.

"You must be Brittany," The dark haired, blue-eyed member of Santana's crew says holding out his hand cordially as he takes a step towards Brittany. Her eyebrow rises at his forwardness, again she's used to it but that doesn't mean she has to like it. She reaches out and hesitantly takes a hold of the man's hand.

"Yeah that's me."

"Cooper Anderson, pleasure to meet you." The man says with a cocky coy smirk as he grasps Brittany's hand and turns it over to bring the smooth backside to his lips.

The moment Brittany realizes what he's about to do she starts to jerk her hand away, but she doesn't have to pull it away far because the next second Santana is gripping Cooper by his ear and dragging him out into the hall. Brittany looks, mesmerized, at the door that Santana just exited, as she hears muffled shouting and what she thinks is Spanish curses. Who knows, except that it sounds really hot coming from Santana's mouth. There's a few whacking noises and some grumbled Ow's before Brittany makes out any comprehendible words.

"Okay, okay! Eyes averted, got it. I'll keep my hands to myself."

Brittany's not sure, but she's also not an idiot, and that sounded a lot like Cooper replying to something Santana said to him. A little smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth when she considers the situation. Apparently, even Santana Lopez is not too high and mighty to ward of advances by her crewmembers towards her new acquaintances. Friends? Whatever the case may be, when Cooper walks back into the conference rubbing the back of his head, and followed closely by a triumphant looking Santana, Brittany inwardly chuckles just a little more.

Unfortunately, that's when Hunter decides to get down to business.

"Reports have been coming in about the Adrenaline Crew being spotted in the area."

Santana immediately tenses up the moment Hunter speaks those words. Brittany, who stands a few inches to the left of her, notices and turns to offer her the questioning look of a raised eyebrow. When Santana doesn't say anything, Brittany decides to speak up.

"That's Jesse St. James gang, the one from Miami that's tracking down Santana and Hector's crew?"

Hunter nods, Santana visibly tenses again.

"That's right sis. St. James and his crew are unaware of what Santana and her crew looks like. He simply knows that they fled from Miami and are rumored to have come here."

Brittany's a whole lot of confused, "What does that mean for us exactly? If he doesn't know, why would we bother or mess with him?"

"Maybe Santana can tell you a little about that."

Brittany head whips from Hunter's face to Santana's, a look of complete confusion crossing her face. Santana's throat twitches a little as she swallows a lump caught in her throat.

"Puck and I were talking, we were trying to figure out a way to get Jesse's crew off our backs and lead the cops right to them and have them take the fall for any of the illegal activities we've participated in." Santana explains, a nervous aura all around her. She can't meet Brittany's eyes.

Brittany's not sure what to think. She thinks she has Santana all figured out and then she goes and does something like this-plans some huge operation with Brittany's incompetent brother, without telling her or consulting her about it.

"Well what the hell do we have to do with that?" Brittany asks not missing the way Santana's eyes snap to hers with a look of confusion and hurt furrowing her brow.

"We asked Hunter if your crew would be willing to help." Puck speaks up from his side of the table. Brittany disregards most of what he says and turns to look at Santana again, waiting until she lifts her eyes to meet blue.

"And what do you want to do?"

Santana's eyes narrow in resolution and focused determination. Her fists clench tight at her sides.

"I want to take these sons of bitches down for what they did to Hec," She starts to say and after a deep breath and a look that tells Brittany the woman's seriously swallowing her pride, worries and insecurities, her brown eyes rise and look directly into Brittany's.

"And I need your help doing it. I want your help Brittany."

Typically, it would take a little more deliberation, perhaps some particular persuasion, for Brittany to have any sort of resolute answer in the span of five seconds, but there's just something about Santana and the way those damn eyes gaze into her own.

Brittany was a goner the second they locked on hers.

"Let's do it then. Let's take down Jesse's crew. While we're at it, I think I have a plan."

Thanks again for the overwhelming and AWESOME responses. You are always welcome to PM me or ask me on Tumblr (lonegambit). I enjoy talking to you all. Catch you on the flip side!