Chapter 13: Burning Rubber in the Moonlight
Brittany's only walked maybe a half a mile when Hunter's Maserati pulls up next to her. She probably shouldn't be surprised, as Mike undoubtedly called Hunter the second he had the chance to and informed him of Brittany's banishment from Jesse's sight just previous moments ago. Brittany grits her teeth, she doesn't want to deal with this.
The window on the passenger side of the Maserati rolls down, and Brittany doesn't even have to look at the car to know that Hunter is looking at her with discontent and shame. Fuck him, he doesn't know anything about the situation and she doesn't really give a shit what he might think regardless. If he had a problem with it, he shouldn't have been such a douche and should have gone to the party and race himself.
"Brittany," Hunter's voice is stern and stoic. She tenses under the tone, more than ever eager to just run away. She doesn't want to deal with Hunter and his 'dissatisfied' attitude. She ignores him, but the car continues to creep along next to her.
"Get in the car Brittany." Hunter's next phrase is not a question, and there's no room for discussion or argument, but Brittany's going to do it anyway.
"I need the exercise." She tosses back, arms folding over her chest wishing she had had the foresight to wear something warmer, and a little more practical (but she's not complaining, she doesn't complain). Besides, racing in heels always makes her feel sexy. It's got a feminine vibe and it just reminds Brittany how fortunate she is to be a girl, being a racing badass in a 'man's world'.
"Brittany, you can run your five miles tomorrow when you're cleaned up and sober. Now get in the damn car."
Despite the fact that the proposition of walking the next six miles in heels doesn't sound to terribly inviting, Brittany would much rather do that than get in the car with her punk ass little brother. Unfortunately, he has other plans because a second after he speaks, he is pulling the Maserati into her walking path and stepping from the vehicle, Lauren stepping out from the backseat after him, giving Brittany an intimidating glare.
"Seriously Hunter, you brought Lauren along to coral me back?" Brittany asks incredulous. Hunter merely shrugs.
"I knew you'd have no other choice but to get in the car if I did."
Right now would really be a good time for Brittany to have the ability to shoot laser beams out of her eyes, or you know, have heat ray vision. She waits until the second that Lauren takes a menacing step forward before she throws her hands up in surrender and slowly walks over to the car.
"Fine, but don't expect me to fucking thank you for this."
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It's been twenty minutes, and even though Santana has a really high suspicion that Brittany's not going to come bursting back through those warehouse doors, guns blazing, anytime soon she's still holding out hope that something will happen. There's got to be anything besides what she just witnessed, Brittany getting sucker punched and thrown out of the party. Santana would really like to find Jesse St. James and give him a punch or two in his smirking little face.
She'd sure as hell like to punch someone, but first and foremost, she needs to know that Brittany's okay.
"Puck," Santana calls her friend over. He turns around from his spot leaned against the bar a few feet away and walks over to her.
"Call David, have him drive over this way and be on the look out for Brittany. Make sure she's okay." Santana tells Puck directly, and watches as he simply gives her a confused look but otherwise makes not motion to do anything she's asked. She raises her eyebrow at him.
"Did you not hear me?" She asks giving him the benefit of the doubt considering the crappy sound quality the warehouse they're surrounded by is affording them. Puck shakes his head.
"No San, I heard you I was just wondering why exactly you'd want me to do that."
Santana looks at him in bafflement, unwilling to believe that even Puck could be this dull and this disobedient.
"First of all, it's Santana. You know Hec is the only one who ever gets to call me San, and second of all, why the fuck wouldn't I be asking you to do that? Brittany could be out there in trouble and we'd never know." She emphasizes the seriousness of her words by jabbing a finger into Puck's shoulder.
"Brittany's a big girl Santana, she can handle herself." Puck merely says in reply.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now? This isn't a topic for negotiation, and right now I could care less what your dead rodent flinging head has to say about it." Santana's eyes are big and burning red. If someone doesn't do something soon, she's not going to punch anyone; she's likely to burn the whole damn place to the ground.
Puck's eyes narrow in hurt but he begrudgingly pulls his phone from his pocket and dials a few numbers. Santana listens to his side of the conversation with their tech guy, glad that Puck didn't decide to be an idiot in that situation and waits for him to hang up the phone.
"Good, thank you." She says. Her tone is hard and edgy as she's having a really hard time thanking Puck at the moment, "How about we find Mike and the others and get out of here?" Puck is quick to nod at this, he turns from Santana and heads into the still thick and overwhelming crowd, that hums with conformity and smells like body odor, in search of the rest of their party. Santana is content waiting in the corner area of the warehouse, not expecting to have Brody approach her a few seconds later. He gives Santana a once long up and down, it makes her skin crawl and she involuntarily shivers.
"He your boyfriend?" Brody asks, his head inclining in the direction that Puck just went. Santana narrows her eyes, her mouth pulling into a look of mild disgust.
The question throws Santana off a bit at first, she's unsure of Brody's motivations for asking her but if any of her skills at reading boys work at all, she thinks she has a general idea. Potentially, this could be a good thing, if Santana's correct about Brody's intentions.
"Him? No, he's just another racer looking to score." Santana dives into her cover a lot smoother and quicker than she thought she could. In the back of her mind she's hoping that Brittany is okay, but right now she knows she needs to focus on their original plan, so that all that Brittany went through wasn't for nothing. Santana's still in the game and she still has a chance. Brody's eyebrow rises in curiosity.
"But you're not looking for that?" He questions. Santana smirks before flashing him a flirtatious look.
"I'm not looking for him, but I never said I wasn't interested in other racers." Her tone is seductive and low; it's the one she uses when she wants to manipulate someone into giving her what she wants. Because Santana always gets what she wants. Brody seems to react strongly to her sultriness, his own cocky grin covering his face as he nods.
"As long as a Pierce is not on your wish list, I think we can manage that." Brody tells her before he reaches out and wraps his arm over Santana's shoulder. She tries not to vomit all over his face, because seriously he a) deserves to get kicked in the baby maker for even thinking about referring to Brittany badly, and b) he smells like cheap bathroom cologne and dollar store aftershave. Not a good combination. She sucks it up though keeping her game face on.
"I'm about as interested in the Pierce's as Mike Tyson is at letting someone else look after his tiger." Santana thinks it's a pretty damn good underhanded comparison, but apparently Brody doesn't get it. No bother though, because he still nods in her direction like he agrees and eventually leads her to the real underground area, and Jesse's backroom operation, intent on letting her 'met the boss' and 'maybe get an invite to join his team.'
Looks like Puck and the gang are going to have to wait a little while longer. But Santana swears that if Puck didn't call David to make sure Brittany's safe, she'll be sure to use him as her own personal punching bag the next second she sees him to get all this stressful tension out of her body.
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Brittany's forever grateful that Hunter pulls the Maserati back into the front of the shop area some fifteen minutes later, having not said anything else for the remainder of the trip. That all goes to shit, however, when he decides to open his big mouth the second Brittany goes to step out.
"You might not thank me now Brittany but someday you'll realize I'm not here to make your life miserable."
Brittany turns in her seat, halfway getting out but still in the car.
"What the fuck does that mean? Why the hell would I ever be thankful, all you ever act like is a royal douche Hunter. The only reason I deal with you is because dad made me promise not to let you try to run the business on your own. He knew you'd fuck up if you did." Brittany calls back. The anger and hatred evident in her voice, she's so completely done with being pushed around by Hunter, her little brother.
Hunter's face morphs into one of complete contempt.
"I'm the one who's likely to mess up?" He asks, his forehead crinkling in anger, "What the hell would you call what happened tonight Brittan? You almost blew the whole operation, the operation, might I remind you, that was your fucking idea in the first place."
"Oh get off your righteous horse you asshole. It wasn't solely me who blew it." Brittany starts to defend herself.
"That's not what I heard. The way I hear it, you got too caught up in trying to get into Santana's pants that you forgot you were on the enemies territory. How could you be so stupid Brittany, to flash your tattoo around like that? If you'd spent more time thinking with your brain instead of your sex drive, maybe you'd get a little further along in life." Hunter says, stepping out from his side of the car. Brittany is quick to follow, stepping out and spinning around to look at Hunter across the roof of the car.
"I'm damn surprised that you haven't turned into your mother yet. All you ever care about is the next fuck, and you should know by now that that kind of behavior never got her anywhere."
Brittany's sight turns red at Hunter's words. Never, ever before, has he ever stooped so low and brought her mother into the situation. He above everyone else knows that her mother is completely and utterly off limits. Brittany's veins pump with an even greater hatred. In one fluid motion, she turns and walks over to the side of her shop, quickly grabbing one of her many bats that are lined up against the outside of the door and spinning around to advance back on Hunter and the car.
For a second she relishes the flash of fear she sees in his dull green eyes. But when she raises the bat and then hesitates, Hunter merely laughs at her.
"Just what I thought. You can't do it, and I know you won't."
And Brittany can't, for the life of her she doesn't know why, but maybe it's because that's not the person her mother, rest in peace, raised her to be. But that doesn't mean she's shy in hitting everything. Exhaling a deep breath, she swings the bat down, satisfied when the sound of breaking glass meets her ears. She shatters the driver's side window of the Maserati, before turning to the front window and swinging hard as Hunter dives out of the way of her rage, screaming like a little sissy girl.
When her anger has turned to despair, and she doesn't have anything to hold onto anymore Brittany throws the bat at Hunter's feet.
"I hope you know what it feels like now." She tells him before spinning on her heel and brushing past the wide-eyed and questioning group of the mixed crews who have filtered from the building to investigate the noise outside. Brittany slams by them, not even giving them the second to ask any questions and rushes into her shop. Two minutes later, the garage door is opening and Brittany is flying by everyone on her Ninja, blonde hair blowing carelessly in the wind.
As far as Brittany's concerned, what more does she have left to care about now?
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When Santana pulls back into the Pierce 'base', followed by Mike and Puck, she hears a gasp from Sugar that immediately puts her on alert. It's not until she climbs out of her cars and surveys the area that she realizes something is terribly wrong.
On one end of the concrete area in front of Brittany's garage, Hunter's Maserati is parked, looking like it was in the center of it's own personal riot. To the left of the car, Hunter stands with a few of the Pierce crew talking to him. He looks angry, flailing his hands about. On the other side of the car, the rest of the Pierce crew, and Santana's crew, are conversing.
"Hey!" Santana yells and meets David's eyes as he looks up at her call. She steps out of her car and walks towards him with purpose. "What the hell is going on? Where's Brittany? Is she okay?" That's really the only thing she wants to hear and know right now. The rest of the whole shitfest can be settled and figured out when she sees that Brittany is okay. There's a lot of stuff they'll have to talk about.
David's brown eyes flicker a little with worry and he glances briefly in the direction of Hunter and his Maserati. Santana meets David halfway from her car and he lets out a sigh.
"Things are no bueno Santana." He tells her, his Spanish accent heavy. Santana's heart constricts, David, like Hector's, voice only gets that authentic when he's seriously on edge about something. She glances in the direction of Hunter and sees that the man is staring at her intently, a look of hatred sunk deep in his eyes.
"What happened David?" She asks, her eyes glancing back to her friend. He shakes his head.
"Brittany went loco, she beat the shit out of Hunter's car and then sped off." He says and Santana clenches her fists.
"Don't call her crazy David, or I'll personally go loco on you." She says, her tone unwavering and leaving no room for argument. David nods and bows his head.
"I'm sorry Santana, I didn't mean like her herself. I just meant she literally grabbed a bat and went crazy with it against the car." He explains and Santana's features soften a bit, she'd laugh if the situation didn't seem like there was so more much she didn't know about yet.
"Why'd she leave then? What happened?" She implores again, still not seeing the big picture. David merely shrugs, indicating he doesn't know. Santana nods in thanks and turns to storm over to Hunter.
"So what'd you do this time? You had to have done something for Brittany to wreck your perfect car we spent so much damn time on." Santana immediately lets the accusations fly, knowing that Brittany probably had a pretty damn good reason for taking a bat to the car, especially if Hunter was involved in any shape or form. Hunter grits his teeth and steps forward.
"Brittany's just being the spoilt brat she is. If she knew how to hold her temper we wouldn't be in this situation." Hunter says, thinking he can leave it at that.
"Oh grow a pair Hunter and admit it," A voice suddenly calls from behind Santana. She turns to see Quinn stalking towards them, a determined and serious HBIC look pulled across her face, her hazel eyes blazing with anger. "If you hadn't been such a dick and gone and mentioned anything about Brittany's mom, you wouldn't be in this situation. You crossed a line this time Hunter."
Santana's eyes bulge at Quinn's words and she spins back towards the younger Pierce.
"What did you say to her?" Santana demands, she may be smaller but she's got fire in her veins, and Hunter's not as man as he'd like to think he was.
"I told her that she needs to start thinking with her brain instead of her sex drive, because it didn't get her mother anywhere either. And then she picked up a bat and started beating on my car."
The way he says it so nonchalant, so like it's the most common thing in the world, sets a fuse off in Santana's body. She steps forward and grabs the lapel of his ugly dark blue sport jacket.
"She should have punched you in the face."
Hunter smirks. He's feeling rather cocky right now.
"She didn't have the guts to do that."
Santana's eyes narrow and she lays off on her grip on Hunter's jacket. He smirks smugly at her as if he's the king of the fucking world. He seriously needs to stop underestimating the woman in his world.
Smack-crack!
The sound of a balled fist connecting with the soft cartilage of a nose sounds between Hunter and Santana as she draws back her left fist and punches him directly in the face.
"Ow! Fucking bitch!" Hunter yells, immediately falling to his knees and gripping at his nose as blood gushes from it.
"Brittany may be too good of a person to punch you, but I sure as hell am not. Don't you fucking forget it." She exclaims, her fist throbbing with pain but at the same time numb to it all. She spins away from Hunter's broken form, not giving anyone else a glance and rushes to her car, thankful that Sugar has exited from it.
Her tires spin and burn rubber in the next second as she peels away from the Pierce 'base' and off in the one direction she thinks Brittany might have gone. She's only hoping she can find her before it's too late.
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Santana gets to Red Rock Canyon a lot quicker this time around because she doesn't give a fuck about anything else. Her heart is pounding with adrenaline from punching Hunter, and fear for the possibility of not being able to find Brittany. If she can't find her, what will happen? She can't think about that. She presses the pedal further to the floor and grips the wheel tighter.
As she pulls onto the path that will take her past the entrance sign, Santana lets out a sigh of relief as she spots Brittany's Ninja parked near the sign and a figure sitting on top of it. She parks her car next to the bike and after taking a deep breath she slowly climbs out.
"Britt?" Santana calls to the figure on the sign, but Brittany doesn't turn around. Santana walks slowly around until she can look up at the woman and evaluate her current mood. Her heart squeezes a little as she sees obvious tear tracks glimmering off Brittany's cheeks in the moonlight and pale blue eyes void of any happiness. Santana takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair. She's not entirely sure how to approach this situation, she's never been good with feelings, but she knows she owes it to Brittany to at least try, she'd hope to get as much in return if the situation was reversed.
"You know, Hunter's an asshole," Santana starts to say taking another step closer to Brittany. She watches as Brittany merely shrugs her shoulders but makes no effort to reply. "You should be glad you don't share the same mother, because his was obviously a bust."
Brittany scoffs and a look of resolve comes over her face, Santana can see a vulnerable but still guarded look in her eyes. Brittany hops from the sign and takes a step towards Santana with a certain fire in her composure, but it's not directed at Santana.
"You say that," Brittany begins, her eyes looking directly into Santana's, "but my mom was a stripper. How does that make me any better?"
Santana is a little thrown off by Brittany's confession. She can honestly say she wasn't expecting that but then again it kind of makes since why Brittany is so closed up and tight-lipped all the time. She's embarrassed that her mother had a career that even in today's society is sometimes frowned upon. But Santana doesn't agree with that and as she shakes her head, she's strong-minded to let Brittany know this. She should never think herself inferior for any reason, but especially that.
"Just because your mom made money by taking her clothes off doesn't mean she was a bad person. It was something she chose to do, but it didn't define her and it certainly doesn't define the person that you are." Santana tries to get her point across to Brittany by stepping in front of her and pressing lightly on her shoulder. Brittany's eyes are still guarded, and Santana sighs heavily and looks off into the distance beside her.
"Do you think that because your mom had a career like that, that if you don't do something with this crew, you're not going to amount to anything in anyone's eyes?" She asks, when the thoughts settle in her head and she turns her eyes back to Brittany. Blue eyes flicker with thought before Brittany shrugs again.
"Maybe I don't, but Hunter does."
Santana lifts her hand and brushes a lock of hair out of Brittany's face and gently soothes her fingers over the cut on her cheek, delicate in everyway, and it makes Brittany's heart hammer against her chest, desperate for more. She takes a light step forward now fully aware the Santana's presence does more for her than just turn her on.
"Like I said, Hunter's an asshole."
Brittany chuckles little, for some reason the more that Santana surrounds her the calmer she feels. It's that incessant pull she's been feeling since the start, the one she knows she shouldn't deny because it's inevitable, it was fated for her and Santana to met, and it's surely fated for her to feel this way in light of that.
"I'm really sorry for what happened at the club." Brittany's subject change completely throws Santana off, she wasn't expecting it, and she certainly doesn't think that Brittany has anything to apologize for. Without really thinking, she steps forward and grasps Brittany's hands in her own, drawing their faces within an inch of each other. She shakes her head.
"No Brittany, you don't have anything to apologize for. I wanted so bad to punch Jesse and Brody right in their dipshit faces the second that happened, but I didn't want you to have had to sacrifice things just for me to blow our cover."
Brittany smiles, she can totally see Santana punching Jesse in the face, it's cute and immensely hot all at the same time. She shifts her hands around so that their fingers slide between each other and their hands lock together.
"It would have been nice to see you punch them, but yeah it's probably good you didn't." She says, still a little bitter about the whole situation. Santana's stomach flips at the way Brittany holds her hands, it's so gentle and quite the opposite of how Brittany and her normal tough exterior act, it's incredibly endearing, and it sends a tingle down her spine.
"You know, I punched Hunter." Santana starts to say and Brittany's eyes snap up to hers with a 'really?' look in them. Santana smiles and nods, "Pretty sure I broke his nose." Brittany laughs out loud at this, throwing her head back and drawing Santana's eyes to the expanse of her neck. When she drops her blue eyes back to Santana's, they're sparkling a shade darker, one that is reflected in the deeper shade of Santana's own eyes.
"I think I'd really like to kiss you right now." Brittany says but before she can even finish the sentence, Santana's lips are on hers, warm and soft like a fucking cloud pulled out of the sky. Brittany's balance falters a little at the way Santana leans into her, but she catches her quickly and manages to press firmly back into the kiss, her eyes sliding closed at the feeling and taste on her lips. This kiss is so much better than the two she basically stole before, maybe because this time she knows Santana wants it just as much as she does.
Santana sucks Brittany's bottom lip between her own before poking her tongue out and tracing over the softness of it. Brittany meets Santana's tongue with her own, dipping into her mouth and swiping at the roof of it. Santana moans at the dominance and grips at Brittany's hands tighter, pressing in further and angling her mouth to kiss her deeper.
Deep kisses turn into soft pecks as they both struggle to catch their breaths, Brittany nipping lightly at Santana's top lip as they pull apart. She tugs Santana closer until their bodies are pressed together and stretches out to kiss her nose.
"I'd really like to hear how you punched my brother in the nose." She whispers against Santana's lips and earns another kiss, enjoying the way she can feel Santana smile against her mouth in the process.
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Brittany glances over at Santana from her seat, and smiles when Santana matches her stare. They spent the last few hours just talking, about what went down on both of their ends after the club, and then how they both got to the canyon. Even though this is completely out of Brittany's element, she's glad that for once in her life things feels right. Everything about Santana screams at her that it's right. And she's more than okay with that.
Without really thinking about it Brittany reaches out and grabs Santana's hand from her lap, dragging them both to the center console and slipping her fingers through the gaps of warmed tan skin. She smiles briefly at the softness of Santana's hand, and the beautiful contrast of her caramel skin against Brittany's own milky white. She doesn't think there's ever been a better combination. Like coffee and vanilla, and delicious as hell.
When she glances up, Santana's eyes are regarding her with a simple curiosity. In no rush for any answers or explanations, just enjoying the feeling that she's currently enlightened with. Brittany winks at her and Santana rolls her eyes and chuckles softly. Something comes over Santana in that moment that drives her into action. After sharing a few minutes of comfortable silence, and lingering stares, Santana's throat bobs with a nervous smile until she shifts in her seat to face Brittany, blue eyes watching her every move.
She studies Brittany intently her eyes gathering every feature on her face. She's amazed at how effortlessly beautiful Brittany is, even after everything she's been through, just today. She slowly reaches out and softly strokes her fingers, again, over the bruise and cut on Brittany's cheek. When she attempts to pull her hand back, Brittany's own reaches up to stop her, gently placing Santana's palm against her cheek and leaning into the touch.
It breaks that damn inside Santana again and she's quickly crawling over her center console and settling onto Brittany's lap. Brittany smiles up at her knowingly, and Santana simply rolls her eyes at her.
"Oh shut up." She says and Brittany just grins wider.
"I didn't say anything gorgeous." She banters back and Santana shakes her head and cups her cheeks, leaning down until their lips are a centimeter apart.
"How about we keep it that way for a few minutes." She whispers against Brittany's trembling in anticipation lips before surging forward and connecting them, swallowing the hot moan that Brittany releases at the feeling of the kiss and the way Santana rocks her hips down into her own. Her hands are quick to find purchase on Santana's hips, as tan hands find their own way into blonde locks, soothing and caressing as her tongue works wonders on Brittany's mouth.
Santana gasps for a breath that Brittany refuses to give her, only to feel Brittany's lips against her neck a second later.
"Do you want to go back to my house?" Brittany husks against Santana's flesh, heat pooling in her lower stomach, desire pulsing between her legs as Santana's hands grip at her hair and her nails scratch at her scalp. She knows Santana feels the same way, with her breath hot and heavy against her lips and Santana's body trembling in her arms. Instead of an answer though, Santana giggles against her lips. Brittany pulls her face back and frowns.
"Well, since you asked me so romantically." Santana teases, her finger bopping Brittany's nose lightly as she gives her a sultry wink. Brittany rolls her eyes and palms Santana's ass in her hands in one quick motion, eliciting a squeal from the girl above her.
"Don't worry angel face, we'll save the romance for later. Right now, I want to get you home and show you something else." Brittany replies with an equally sultry look and Santana's sure that she's never been so ready for that race in all her life.
And that's the end of the chapter! The next one is going to be SUPER juicy if you know what I mean, but I must sadly inform you that I am heading out to go on vacation tonight and I won't be back until sometime next week. Rest assured though, this next chapter will be totally worth the wait. In the meantime, I've written a handy little completely nonrelated one-shot (called Giddy Up) that may help to alleviate some growing desire to see these two girls together. Either way, thanks again y'all. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts.
PS. Hunter is, in fact, an asshole.
Spanish Translations (just in case):
No bueno: no good
Loco: crazy