Chapter 11: Navigating the Curves

The first thing Brittany does in the morning (or in cases like today, almost the afternoon), after she's ya know rolled out of bed and gotten herself properly acquainted with the morning, is take a little walk over to her precious garage so that she may check on the status of the cars that dwell in the fine establishment. Sometimes, more often than not, Brittany waltzes to the garage with the intention of working on said cars, and other times she just really wants to check on shit.

This morning, she's got it all planned out to a T. She's going to work a little on her GT, and perhaps get the assistance of the insanely sexy Santana who has been lingering longer than usual around Brittany and her cars as of late. Every since that bargain between the two of them was struck up just a few days ago.

Things have been mightily good in the department of 'business' for the Pierce crew. With the successful boost of thirteen high end cars by Brittany's and Santana's crew respectively the other night, they easily have the means to drop a fly five hundred large into that sweet money pot that Jesse St. James is currently sponsoring. Talk about some big ass cash. Brittany likes the sound of that.

Everything would be cool as a Bay Breeze on a hot humid Vegas afternoon, if say when Brittany walks into her shop this fine afternoon, she's not met with the absolutely confusing, and downright unacceptable, sight of some greasy mechanic dude bent over the engine compartment of her car. She still says greasy, even if there really appears to be no grease whatsoever on the guy's long blue jumper just because it's easier.

But really now, why the fuck do people just keep letting themselves into Brittany's shop like it's not a big A deal?

"Hey you! What the hell?" Brittany questions to the intruder as she brandishes her trusty aluminum baseball bat from the corner of the shop. This grease monkey's sure as hell not going to just get away Scott free. Fuck that. But then the guy starts to turn around, and Brittany really needs to start taking a closer look at things because what she thought she saw is so far from the truth it's not even funny.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Brittany finds Santana saying as she turns around to face her. In Brittany's defense, Santana is wearing the mechanic jumper, you know the one that covers the person's entire body and has the little name badge thing on the left breast pocket. She's even wearing the damn mechanic hat! But all thoughts of that goes away the second Santana looks at Brittany, because she starts stripping it all off. And if Brittany thought Mechanic Santana was sexy, she's in for a whole different kind of surprise.

The first thing to go is that hat. Santana is very composed in her removal, and she does so with a delicate speed. Grasping the bill between her thumb and forefinger, Santana pulls that hat up and backwards, allowing her flowing dark locks to spill out from their previous confines and grace her shoulders. Then she gives a slow shake of her head (see previous: sexy). Brittany's pretty sure that her jaw is dropped so heavily that it's threatening to fall off.

The next to go, at an equally agonizingly measured pace, is the top part of the mechanic jumper. Santana starts by unzipping the zipper to just below her belly button and then she pulls the two separate sides apart, giving way to her torso that's tantalizingly covered underneath. She snakes her arms out of the sleeves and lets the top half fall to her hips, and then all Brittany is able to focus on is the super tight corset like leather top Santana is wearing that is seriously presenting the assets that rest on her chest.

What was Brittany thinking about again?

The very last thing that Santana does is shimmy the mechanic jumper down her legs, one by one, and step out of them to reveal skintight black leather pants with two-inch stiletto heels popping out of the ends. She removes the legs quite possibly the slowest, and when she tosses the three sizes too big jumper off to the side, Brittany can't believe that Santana, and all her sexiness, is what was hiding beneath that retched garment. She seriously needs to ban that kind of wear from her garage, particularly when it comes to Santana.

"You're quite predictable you know?" Santana's taunting voice draws Brittany's eyes from where they had been examining the creases in the leather at Santana's hips (sure, that's what we'll go with). Brittany shouldn't be surprised to find a smirk stretched across Santana's face, but there have been a lot of things lately that have been unexpectedly catching her unawares. Once the saliva returns to her mouth, Brittany can properly reply.

"I'm pretty sure I distinctively said that your fancy outfits belong nowhere near a garage." It's weak and she knows it, but it's all she's got right now. Santana just rolls her eyes in return.

"And I'm pretty sure that I said I didn't really care about that. I'm comfortable in this and I didn't hear you complaining just a second ago."

Suddenly it hits Brittany; Santana does this on purpose just as much to tease her as Brittany does the touchy feely stuff to well on push Santana's buttons. Deep down Brittany probably knew this all along, the elaborate game they've been playing because it's fun, but now she can see it all so clearly, and frankly, she's about done with the games. It's time to see if Santana can handle the real world.

Brittany's eyes turn predatorily as she sets them on Santana, and she briefly enjoys the moment she watches Santana drop her act as her throat bobs in nervousness. A smile spreads across Brittany's lips as she takes three giant strides towards Santana and in one fluid motion, grips her by the hips and hoists her up so her backside is perched on the edge of the open engine compartment. Brittany keeps her hands placed on Santana's sides so she doesn't fall into the car as she steps between her legs and presses their bodies close. She doesn't miss the way a squeak pops out of Santana's mouth, or the way brown eyes suddenly swirl with a dark desire.

"What are yo-" Santana starts to say but is immediately halted by a 'shuuush' by Brittany as she presses her forefinger against Santana's insanely inviting lips.

"Stop talking for a second." She says and Santana's heart thuds rapidly at the demanding tone. The rest of her body shakes, completely in the mercy of Brittany's hands. Brittany tilts her face in closer to Santana's, her warm breath blanketing the skin of Santana's neck, the ledge of her jaw, her cheek and just below her right ear, but she doesn't touch the skin. It's teasing in the most torturous of manners, but she needs to see how Santana reacts. She needs to know if she'll respond. By the looks of things, Brittany would say she's almost got a green light.

She brings her lips to Santana's ear.

"Tell me right now that you don't want this. That you don't want me to kiss you and I'll stop." She whispers and can physically feel the tremble that runs through Santana's body. It's a few seconds of desperate silence before Santana replies.

"I can't." It's so quite but Brittany hears it. She draws her face back so her eyes can lock with Santana's. The eyes are the windows to the soul right? And right now, all Brittany can read in Santana's is that she wants this, and she wants it a lot. She smiles and spares a glance to the full lips that are quivering and parted in waiting. Brittany rests her forehead against Santana's and breathes out raggedly for a second before she dips in and moves her lips closer.

"Wait." It's quite and scratchy, and Brittany again almost misses it but she restrains herself from moving forward as her eyes open and look questioningly into Santana's.

"I...I'm, I don't," Santana starts to say, her words choppy and stuttered. Brittany moves her head back far enough that she can properly look at her. Santana's eyes close as if giving deep thought to something and her lips purse. When she opens them again they are swirling with a cloudy apprehension that throws Brittany off.

"I don't know," Santana tries again, the words are still shaky but there's still no coherency to them. Brittany's hands smooth up and down Santana's sides, trying to reassure her that she can talk, and that Brittany will listen.

"Hey boss I thought you might like to see what I found." A masculine voice rings out from the hallway and Brittany feels Santana tense under her touch. She respectfully takes a step back from her, removing her hands from their place on Santana's hips, steeling her face into something that doesn't show how hurt and vulnerable she's feeling right now. A second later, a taller Latino man waltzes into the shop, a very bright and very pearly white smile pulled across his face and a certain sparkle in his amber brown eyes. He makes eye contact with Brittany and gives her a nod before turning his attention to Santana, seemingly not recognizing he has interrupted anything.

"Hey David," Santana greets, her voice cracking just enough to let Brittany know that she's not all okay about everything either. She slides her body off the hood area of car and brushes her pants off a little before running a hand through her mess of hair. Brittany puts a name to a face finally as she recognizes Santana's computer and technical guy David. He steps up to Santana and holds out a NOS can to her. Santana's eyebrows knit together in confusion as she gingerly takes the can and holds it in her hands. Her eyes flit back to David's with a certain curiosity.

"Can you see anything wrong with it?" David asks, a certain buzzing excitement about him. Like a little kid who has just discovered a secret that no one else is privy to. Santana takes a moment to examine the NOS can, turning it over and around carefully in her hands as her eyes remain focused on it. Brittany too is curious as to where David may be going with the whole situation, because as far as she can tell, there's nothing wrong with the can in general. Santana's eyes return to David's after her thorough examination, brows furrowed in question. He smiles back at her.

"You can't see anything wrong can you?" He asks and both Santana, and Brittany even though she technically wasn't addressed, shake their heads 'No'. Another smiles breaks out across David's face as he delicately takes the NOS can back from his boss's hands. He spins it around so the bottom part is facing up and then glances up at Santana again.

"Look closely, right in the center." He says and Santana tilts forward on her heels to look where David is suggesting. She doesn't see anything at first but after excruciating concentration she thinks she sees what appears to be the tiniest of spots in the center of the can.

"What is that?"

David nods his head, thankful that Santana has made the discovery he was hinting towards.

"It's a prick point." He says and this time Brittany's brow furrows in confusion and question. She tilts her head towards the electronics guy. Santana raises an eyebrow for David to elaborate.

"That tool you found earlier," David starts to say and Santana's eyes perk up in recognition. She lifts a finger as if to say 'Hold on a second' and spins on her heel to walk back over to the workbench area propped up next to the GT she was using while working on the car. She searches for a moment as Brittany watches her before apparently finding what she was looking for. Her hand stretches out and grasps a long thin looking straw thing. Something Brittany has never seen before. It's metal, about ten inches long and as thin as a paperclip. It has a little handle like thing on one end and fashions off into a deceptively sharp looking point. Santana walks back over to David and holds the tool up.

"I found this the other day when I was working on the GT," She explains as she turns to look at Brittany. "It was lying on the ground near the other docking area, small enough to be missed by any naked eye that wasn't searching for it. I didn't think much about it because I'd never seen anything like it before. I showed it to David and he looked into it for me." Santana continues her explanation while Brittany looks on at her, listening with rapture but still wholly confused about everything.

"What I found," David is now talking and Brittany glances towards him, "Was that this little herramienta is what is commonly used in the auto business to pierce the cans of unused, expired or faulty Nitrous Oxide Systems. It allows the gas to slowly leak out of the can harmlessly. I've never heard of it before because that's not something we've ever had to use."

"Neither have we." Brittany finds herself saying. Her brain is suddenly spinning with a thousand questions. Why would such a thing be found in her garage? Who put it there? Has it already been used or was it planning to be used? Again, who put it there? Her eyes glance towards Santana who shares her worried expression. They share a moment of silence before Santana hands the tool over to David with a nod of her head.

"Thanks David, keep looking into it for me?" He nods his agreement before turning to leave the garage. When he's gone from sight, Santana turns back to Brittany and is about to speak aloud to her when Brittany instead runs a hand through her hair and turns her back to Santana with a grumble.

"What the hell is something like that doing in my shop?" She inquires out loud. Santana takes a step towards Brittany opening her mouth to speak when Brittany spins around towards her with fire in her eyes.

"And what the hell didn't you tell me about this sooner? Don't you think that's something that might have been important?" She accuses and Santana's face hardens.

"Don't you think I know that? I was waiting to get a definitive answer on things before I brought them to you. I wanted to know what it was so we could cut through the middle part of figuring it out." Santana cuts back. Brittany raises her hand and points a finger at her.

"That's not your decision. My garage, my rules!" She shouts and now Santana's eyes are icy cold. She struts towards Brittany and smacks her hand out of the air.

"Fine, have it your way. Forget about me helping you while we're at it!" She shouts back before turning with the intent to storm away. She doesn't get far because Mike and Puck enter the room and give both women questioning looks of their own. Puck walks near to Santana and reaches out to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, familiar with what his friend looks like when she's angry and hurt.

"What the hell do you want?" Brittany spits in their direction, her body trembling slightly in anger at how quickly things have gone to shit. Mike's eyes flash with worry at Brittany's tone. She can be hot headed sometimes, but he's never seen her this furious.

"Uh we came to let you know that Hunter got word St. James is throwing a special get together tonight. A race of sorts where the winners are individually and specially invited to the underground after party he's hosting. Figured it would be a good way to get on the inside." Mike explains. They weren't intended to, but his words just spark more fury in Brittany's veins. The last thing she wants to hear is how they're planning on infiltrating Jesse St. James's gang, it's too much to think about with everything else swirling in her head.

"Now is not a good time." Brittany speaks through grated teeth. She notices Santana's brow scrunch together.

"No offense Britt, but now might be the only time. I know you're the boss and all but it might be our only opportunity." Mike says as delicately as possible. There's a few seconds of silent fuming before Brittany finally shrugs her shoulders.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be happy about this." She says before she does something completely uncharacteristic. She storms out of her own garage, leaving the remaining occupants shocked and at a loss for words.

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Brittany wishes she could say she's had the proper time to think over things and calm herself down. She's been sulking in the confines of her condo for the last few hours, so one would think she'd come up with something right? But saying that would just be a big fat fucking lie, so she's not even going to bother.

She's finding it hard to distinguish what might be worse right now; that she finally thought things with Santana would progress only to be halted by Santana herself, once again, or that Santana kept something crucial from her this whole time. Is she over reacting? No, hell no, she's got things right.

Santana should have told her. It's Brittany's garage, and anything that's found in it should be brought to her attention, immediately. So what if she wouldn't have had any clue what the damn mini ice pick tool was, she would have been in the loop about it at least. Maybe that's what hurts worse, that Santana didn't even kind of ring her into the loop until much after the fact. She thought she'd read the woman a little better than that. All the sultry looks, flirtatious winks, not so innocent touches. Granted, Brittany's been the one who's done most of the touching but still. She can usually read woman so well.

Santana's still a big damn mystery.

Maybe that's what bugs the most.

She sighs and plops down on her couch. She's exhausted thinking about this. What ever happened to the easy times? Find a hot girl, flirt her up, take her to bed and then not have to worry about anything the next day? At least not the worries that are currently wracking Brittany's brain. But Santana's so much different than any woman she's ever met. So much more special. So much more worth it. God, she sounds like such a sap. It's like she's talking about wanting a relationship with Santana, but she's not even sure if the woman would even go for anything like that.

Sure, she didn't react negatively to the kisses or touches, but Santana had been trying to tell Brittany something before David interrupted, and then they didn't get the chance to discuss anything afterwards because Brittany, because she…

"I walked out like a big sissy baby." She speaks out loud, huffing loudly at the remembrance of her childlike ways. She's stubborn though, and that kind of stuff doesn't go away in the blink of an eye. She likes being stubborn and gritty and dangerous. It's what keeps her alive. But still, she could imagine how the bonus of having someone like Santana around, someone who balances her, could be beneficial.

"Fuck!" Brittany exclaims slamming her fist down on the couch arm. This is all kinds of fucking confusing. She wishes her mom were here to talk about it.

Her doorbell ringing draws Brittany out of her stupor and she huffs slightly, she decides she doesn't really want to talk to anyone right now so she doesn't move from her spot. But then the ringing just gets annoyingly persistent. With a groan, Brittany lifts her body to her feet and clumps over to the door, jerking it open.

When Brittany opens her front door and surveys the sigh before her, she's sure she's died and gone to hell. Standing in her doorframe, accented by the twilight of near evening behind her, is Santana in sexy black pumps and devil red dress so tight that Brittany's almost positive she can make out the etched curves of Santana's abs through the material. Santana's eyes pop with the way her smoky eyeliner highlights the deep brown of them, and her lips are ruby red with that hint of smoldering kissability.

Brittany swallows thickly, almost all of her previous thoughts vanishing from her mind.

"Hi." Santana speaks timidly, so unlike the persona her current outfit radiates. Brittany quirks an eyebrow but she clears her throat.

"Hey."

Santana licks her lips and Brittany hates the way she watches her do it, and the way it causes her heart rate to speed up. Santana shuffles on the spot and Brittany recognizes it as a sign that she wants to say something but isn't quite sure where to start. Finally, Santana's eyes slowly gaze back up into Brittany's.

"We didn't really get the chance to talk earlier, about…things," She starts to say and Brittany remains looking at her with a blank expression drawn across her face. Santana seems to gather a little courage as she speaks her next words, "And I'm not going to apologize for certain things but you should know I was only doing it for your benefit. And furthermore, you haven't exactly been peachy perfect lately and I could say a whole bunch of other things that-"

"I know." Brittany cuts into Santana's rant, finding it hard not to think the woman might be just a little too adorkable for her own good. Santana's eyes lock on blue when Brittany interrupts her. Brittany rolls her eyes and sighs, for her anger to dissipate so quickly, there must be something else to Santana and why not take the time to stick around and figure it out.

"Listen, I don't do this much so don't get all cocky on me." Brittany starts to say and Santana raises her eyebrow in return, "I'm not saying that I'm sorry per se but it was a little…improper of myself to accuse you earlier. I realize now that you were just going through the same channels that I would have taken if the situation were reversed."

Brittany can see the faint hint of a grin twitching at Santana's lips, and for fear of being crippled with a debilitating immobility because she's so not used to apologies, she quickly continues.

"But I still want it to be clear that it's my garage, my rules."

Santana fights off the knowing smile that threatens to break out across her face. She thinks what Brittany's saying is fair.

"And as far as that other thing goes, don't think I'm done with that either." Brittany than adds. She wants to make sure that Santana knows that one way or another, she's going to get to the bottom of this whole tension thing that's emitting between them. Santana smiles softly and gives Brittany a nod. She thinks that's fair too.

There's a beat of silence before Brittany awkwardly clears her throat. Her eyes give a once over of Santana's outfit again, lingering a little on the curves.

"You sure you're going to wear that?"

Santana smirks.

"Yeah I think it will do its job." She says coyly and gets another raised eyebrow from Brittany.

"Let's hope it doesn't get you into trouble." She murmurs softly before turning around to grab her car keys. When she ushers Santana out of the door she takes a couple of steps forward before turning back to look at Brittany.

"White looks good on you by the way." Santana comments as her own eyes slowly rake up and down over the material of Brittany's own outfit, her waist high white pants with suspender straps and a casual off white colored shirt. Brittany looks at her curiously. It really is funny how quickly things turn around.

"It's what I wear when I feel like dancing." She says, all of a sudden feeling very playful. Santana smirks at her again before she leans in close to Brittany, her hands falling to her shoulders to brace her weight as she leans in and places her lips against Brittany's ear.

"If you feel like it, maybe you can come find me on the dance floor and show me what you've got." Santana's words come out husky and leave Brittany wanting more.

As Santana pulls back, she winks at Brittany before spinning around and walking away, leaving Brittany to stare at her very curvy backside as she goes.

God how quickly things change. Brittany has a feeling this party might be worth it after all.

Thanks once more y'all!

Spanish Translation:

Herramienta: tool