As promised...
Chapter 18: Fixing a Flat tire
"What the hell is she doing here?"
Santana's posture stiffens as she slowly turns around to find Brittany has joined her and the individual currently occupying her front door. Blue eyes blaze with a certain fierce protectiveness that Santana's been privy to before. Her eyes widen because she thinks she knows what's going to happen next.
"Brittany, I swear I can explain this." Santana begins to say as Brittany storms towards the door and the believed 'intruder' she thinks is currently invading her time with a certain Latina. Santana tries to calm Brittany before it's too late but she's not quick enough to react before the taller woman is sneering at the intruder and throwing out a flurry of words.
"Brooke was it? Are you going to answer me or am I going to have to punch the answer out of you. I'm not afraid to hit a girl every now and again, especially if their plans are to hurt Santana or myself." Brittany says, eyeing the other brunette in the doorway that now stands far too close to Santana for her liking. Brittany takes a step to Santana and without even looking for her hand, reaches out and brushes her fingers against a tan palm. Almost automatically, Santana's hand twists around and slips into Brittany's.
Brooke eyes the clasped hands for a second before questioningly turning her eyes to Santana who merely blinks her eyes in a silent response to Brooke as well as towards the entire situation. Brooke chuckles and turns her focus back to Brittany.
"Easy Tiger, I swear I come in peace and if you drop your weapons and let me in, I'd be happy to explain to you just why that is. Oh and I'm not here for your girl," She starts to say, her voice a raspy husk. Brittany's eyes narrow at the statement, and seeming ambiguity of it. To her right, Santana squeezes her hand in a sort of calming method.
"It's okay Brittany, she's not here for you either," Santana informs the taller woman whose blue eyes snap to her as an almost automatic reflex. Her brow furrows and her lips pull into a minor frown of uncertainty.
She has no idea what's going on.
Santana turns back to Brooke, looking over and past her shoulder for a second before refocusing her attention on the woman, "How about you do come in. It'll be safer, and far easier to explain everything."
Brooke simply nods, but waits until Brittany finally moves to the side before crossing the threshold into Santana's house.
#################
"So, you're telling me that you, all five foot two of you, pretty little girl next door is an undercover agent for the fucking Drug Enforcement Administration? What the hell is going on?"
To say that Brittany is currently irate would be a serious understatement.
"I'm five foot four, thank you very much. And yes, that's precisely what I'm telling you. I normally work out of the Los Angeles office, but when some colleagues of mine from out in Miami heard Jesse St. James was heading towards Vegas, my team was put on assignment to bring him down."
Brittany's still a little jaw dropped, as in 'What the actual fuck is going on' jaw dropped.
"So, again I'm just trying to get things straight. You're after Jesse St. James, who you're claiming is a drug lord, not Jesse St. James the car thief/extortionist?"
Brooke nods her head, her eyes flicking over to Santana for a moment, "That's right. We have no interest in taking St. James down for Grand Theft Auto, which is why I've enlisted Santana's help in the matter. We have no intention of touching anything that you or your crews are involved in, unless it pertains to drugs."
Brittany's eyes glance over to Santana, "How long has she enlisted your help?"
"She only came to me the last time I was at Jesse's. We've been trying to get together to discuss things further without Jesse and his crew breathing down our necks but there hasn't been much opportunity for that."
It's a natural skepticism that keeps Brittany from fully believing anything she's hearing. It'd be a nice concept to believe that Brooke is in fact one of the good guys, and she's not here to hurt but actually may help, but there are warning bells going off in Brittany's head and things still don't sit right. She takes a step towards Santana and turns to face Brooke again.
"Let's say I don't believe you and you're actually a spy for Jesse's crew trying to fuck things up. That would be putting Santana and myself and crew in a lot of danger, and I don't like when people threaten my livelihood."
Brooke nods, a look of understanding crossing her face, "Okay I get that. I come out of nowhere and make pretty bold statements. Here, I can prove it to you though." She says and pulls back one side of her leather jacket to reach for something at her hip. Brittany's eyes instead zone in on the polymer holster strapped and dangling from the side of Brooke's chest, and the semi-automatic pistol that appears to be resting in it.
Brittany is quick to step protectively in front of Santana, reaching behind her to wrap one arm around the woman's waist and pull her tight to her back as she raises her other hand out in front of her defensively.
"What the hell is that?"
It takes a moment for Brooke to realize Brittany's eyes are focused intently on her gun.
"Oh hey hey no, that's just my gun."
"Why the hell would you have a gun?"
"I told you, I'm a DEA agent. Here," She begins to say and reaches at her hip again, Brittany shifts uncomfortably, trying her best to shield Santana further behind her body. Brooke pulls out a wallet flap looking thing and holds it up to Brittany, "My credentials."
Brittany eyes the picture and, as far as she's concerned, gibberish that's scrolled across it in official and impressive looking font, and then glances behind her to Santana.
"Did you know about this?"
Santana shakes her head, "I had no idea she was an agent. When Brooke approached me shortly after I 'joined' Jesse's crew, she said she'd been around a while and could tell when people weren't really somewhere they were supposed to be or wanting to be. I freaked out at first thinking she was going to blow my cover but she convinced me she was one of the good guys.
We didn't get much time to talk the first couple times I was around the crew, Jesse was putting so many things in my head about what he expected me to accomplish to earn my keep in the crew but when we got the chance we met up and decided to arrange sometime we could met up again and talk outside of Jesse's watchful eye. It kind of slipped my mind that she'd planned to show up here today." Santana's eyes glance up at Brittany and notice a hint of betrayal lingering in those bright blues. She steps forward.
"I was going to tell you, actually I was going to ask you to meet her with me…"
"She was," Brooke confirms.
"And then we kind of got caught up in everything."
Brittany takes in the information very thoughtfully. She studies Santana for a moment throwing a contemplative glance in Brooke's direction every now and again. Finally her shoulders uncoil and her defenses go down.
"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here Santana, since I didn't do that the first time. But," Brittany tells the tanner woman before turning to Brooke, "You're going to have to start talking."
Santana releases a relieved sigh and steps towards Brittany, turning her body to mimic the taller woman's posture and face the DEA agent. As Brooke begins her explanation, Santana feels Brittany's long fingers brush across her own that dangle at her side and again doesn't hesitate to grasp onto Brittany's hand, no looking, no second thoughts, no worries.
It's about time they started trusting each other.
################
As Brittany strides back into her shop, having just come back with Santana from a long and informative engagement with DEA Agent Brooke Davis, she immediately spots her best friend sitting peacefully in the corner of her shop and decides that now is the best time to pick that bone.
"You and me Fabray, we've got a beef."
For the second time in 24 hours, Quinn finds herself being verbally harassed for reasons quite unknown, and being interrupted when she's right in the middle of reading her book. Brittany takes a step towards the table, her hands fit firmly and menacingly on her hips.
"You need to stop putting Santana down, she's not our enemy."
Quinn folds her hands primly together on the top of the table and sits up proper straight.
"I don't really have a problem with her Brittany so much as I have a problem with her keeping things from us, but especially from you."
"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore because we've had the time to discuss a few things, and when we get the chance I plan on telling her more things. A lot of things. Probably everything."
Quinn's eyebrow quirks in suspicion, "Oh, you're planning on telling her everything huh?"
Brittany bites her lip in her biggest tell and murmurs out a weak, "Pshh, yeah."
"So you're going to tell her that you don't actually know if your mom's dead, just that you haven't seen her for ages and despite the fact that it basically implies she's abandoned you, given that she's still alive, you still covet her affection like a little bright eyed girl. And because of this, though I doubt she hasn't already figured it out, you resort to sex and silence to try and push away your problems. Are you going to tell her that Brittany?"
Brittany frowns, "Geeze Quinn, Mike was right. You really can be a straight up bitch when you want to."
"Mike doesn't get any say in this!" Quinn exclaims in return, her eyes narrowing and her face flushing bright pink. It would be comical if Brittany hadn't just been so rudely offended. They stare off with each other, or glare off rather, for the better part of five minutes before Brittany finally caves, huffing in defeat and tossing her arms in the air.
"Fine, I didn't tell her that because I don't really think it's of much importance right now. We just got back on good graces, I don't want to freak her out by letting her know I essentially have abandonment issues, plus I was a royal A bitch to her and defaulted to bad behavior when I got scared."
"Another reason you should actually be telling her everything. I mean come on Brittany, we both know those aren't the only issues you have."
"Oh screw you Quinn, or better yet just get someone to screw you and get that self-righteous stick out of your ass."
"Brittany this isn't a fucking joke. I may have had my ups and downs concerning Santana, but I'm still trying to get a handle on her. You're my best friend though, which means you come first."
"I don't need your pity Quinn, and I can handle shit on my own."
"I've seen you 'handle shit' on your own Brittany, you and I both know that never turns out well. For anyone."
There's a few brief moments of silence, a tense air hanging between the two friends that radiates in a heated shockwave, their glares bore into one another with such desperation one would think that they were trying to control the outcome of the other with only the power of their minds. But real life doesn't work that way.
Quinn caves first this time, unclasping her hand and raising it to run through her blonde locks. Despite Brittany's previous insults, and stubborn as a bull attitude, she's mildly impressed with her friends words. She cracks a small smile in Brittany's direction, years of arguing with her best friend has shown that the easiest way to get Brittany to calm down is to appeal towards her amiable side, or what little she has of one.
Of course, it wouldn't be a Quinn Fabray retort without a little dig of her own, "Self-righteous? Since when do you know what that means?"
Brittany catches on to the attitude change and shrugs; "Santana called me it the other day so I looked it up on Wikipedia."
With a laugh from Quinn all the tension is broken. She sends a wider lopsided smile in Brittany's direction.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too Q, that was a dick move on my part bringing up Mike and stuff."
"Well admittedly it's been a while and you know how cranky I can get."
"And we're traveling into TMI territory. Let's just keep it at we're both sorry and move on?"
Quinn nods towards Brittany, twenty years of solid friendship and constantly being surrounded by the other person allows you to get over even the worst of things, fast.
"Works for me." She says as she fixes her hands on her hips. She gives the atmosphere a few seconds to settle down before she abruptly changes the subject, it's her style so she's not expecting it to faze Brittany by it, "So what are you planning on doing?"
Brittany draws her bottom lip between her teeth and her forefinger and thumb in a pinching motion to the point of her chin. Quinn recognizes that Brittany is contemplating, so she lets the taller girl stew her thoughts around.
After what seems like several hours, but is in fact only a few minutes, a coy smirk pulls across Brittany's face and her eyes light up. She's got a plan.
"When I was at Santana's we had a little bit of an unexpected guest drop by."
Quinn's eyes go wide in alarm, but Brittany shakes her off, "No problems Q, just someone I hadn't anticipated seeing. But the good news is that this person is actually on our side. They are an undercover informant in Jesse's crew that has apparently made Santana out as one too, again nothing to be alarmed about, I was suspicious at first but they turned out to be pretty persuasive, and informative.
Anyway, the moral of this whole long winded story is that this person is also looking for a way to take Jesse St. James down, and they happen to have a particular set of knowledge on him, his crew and his vast expanse of wrong doings to the point that if we all play our cards right he'll be gone for good, and we'll still get the money."
This seems to capture Quinn's attention, most undeniably. She tilts her hip to the side and raises her chin just enough to signify to Brittany that she's listening, and quite interested. Brittany grins wickedly.
"Basically, Jesse's got a side biz, which is probably more than likely his main biz but he's having a little trouble expanding in the area because, as you know, we divide the Vegas turf with the Evans crew."
"Brittany will you just get to the point, I know you love the whole espionage, undercover badass approach but I'm not getting any younger."
Brittany rolls her eyes at Quinn's impatience, as much as her interruption.
"You're not getting any nicer either."
That earns her another heated glare. Brittany chuckles a little, "St. James runs drugs Quinn."
This surely shuts Quinn up.
"That's right, I didn't think you'd have much to say about that. Granted I'm not completely shocked by the announcement, but at the same time it just makes me loathe the prick even more. And it scares me how much more danger Santana could potentially be in."
"Well yeah, drug running, especially big city scale operations, that's no little man behind the wheel."
Brittany nods her agreement, "Right, it's boss man status. Which is why it's very important for us all to work together."
Even though Quinn's brow is furrowed in deep thought, and she looks somewhere between having to go to the bathroom and seeking medical need, she still manages to acknowledge Brittany for her continuation of the situation.
"Basically the informant told us that they could convince Jesse to run a certain game within the city, as a way to garner a lot more business, as well as sanction a type of loyalty that he is desperately in need of but seriously lacking. They think that if we enter this little game, and come out on top we'll be that much closer to Jesse and the potential to take him down."
"Okay while that sounds like a mildly absurd proposition, it also seems to be one of the most established ideas I've heard in a while. Considering we already have two people on the inside, I can see your reasoning. The only question I have now, however, is how you propose to get our crew in the mix. Jesse St. James despises you, as evidenced by the way he carelessly and literally tossed you out of his club not too long ago. So tell me Brittany, what exactly are you thinking here?"
That up to no good smile that Quinn's seen one too many times before Brittany inadvertently gets into trouble crosses her best friends face.
"He may admittedly hold a rather annoying disapproval of me, but I think that considering the other crews we know exist in the area, after he sees our crew put into action, and willing to work with him, he might just change his mind."
"Oh, I see where you're going with this." Quinn says with a nod, finally catching onto Brittany's sometimes deceptively genius ramblings. "So you're suggesting that when Jesse sends the words out to the crews in the area it's going to be a 'may the best crew' win kind of deal."
"Exactly, he's not going to care if the crew that wins is one of his biggest adversary's. He really has no room to argue with success. Besides, if it comes to it, all we need to do is remind him that this is our turf in the first place. You and I both know that the only reason I didn't do that the first time I was around that asshole was to preserve Santana's cover, and protect her from getting hurt, which worked because we got not only one person, but two people on the inside."
Quinn's is nodding concurrently with Brittany's words, "You're right Brittany. And I think your plan has a lot of potential. I guess the only thing I'm curious about is whether or not you have any idea what this informant might suggest as a 'game' for Jesse to play."
A smile covers Brittany's face, "I thought you'd never ask. Obviously there are only so many things in Vegas that would prove useful in illegal operations. One of them being boosting high-end cars. In Jesse's case, the informant has suggested that they could persuade him to use these boosted cars as a means to smuggle and transport his drugs across the nation, and across borders if needed. All he needs is someone with skill enough to properly boost them, and turn them into ghosts with new identities."
"And you're okay with going up against not only Jesse's crew but also the other crews in the area?"
"I'm not worried about anyone else besting us, and I figure the best way to keep Santana safe would be to be that much closer to her and actually in Jesse's semi good graces."
There's a moment of consideration from Quinn's side before her hazel eyes flash back to Brittany. Her face is steeled in business mode and if Brittany didn't already know what the look Quinn is flashing her meant, she'd be likely to piss herself from how scary it is. If she, of course, was any sort of non-badass that couldn't handle such a thing.
"Alright, I'm in for the plan. Of course it'd be nice to hear more from Santana if she knows anything else and you'll definitely have to run everything by the crew. You know Hunter's not going to go for it."
Brittany's face twists in disgust, "Hunter's a prick I care nothing more about so he can get his own damn life and stop trying to live vicariously through me. As far as Santana and explaining things to the crew, that can be arranged."
A thin line pulls across Quinn's otherwise pristinely refined face, her fastidious attitude breaking for one second long enough to display some sense of compassion.
"Okay Brittany."
The bright blue of Brittany's eyes turn to glance fully in Quinn's direction, analyzing the extent of her friend's sincerity. They've always been able to read each other, and they probably always will be able to.
Brittany's mouth quirks at the corner, "You should apologize to her you know."
Quinn brief reprieve from the world of frowning disappears in an instant the second Brittany's words leave her mouth. But Quinn waits until Brittany turns her back and walks over to her newly acquired Boss, ducking down into the engine compartment, before she speaks up again.
"You really want me to apologize to your girlfriend?"
There's a clank and a 'Fucking shit!' muttered from the engine compartment where Brittany's head is located and then a streak of blonde hair pops up and blue eyes flash in Quinn's direction. There's a certain fire in Brittany's eyes that suggests perhaps Quinn crossed the line this time.
Brittany takes a step towards her friend, wiping her hands on an old grease rag, "Okay first of all, ha-ha, she's not my girlfriend," Quinn's eyebrow quirks at Brittany's unconvincing tone, "And besides, I think it's only fair." Brittany then says with a shrug as if trying to brush the whole thing off, "I'm pretty sure you gave her whiplash with the way your attitude towards her turned around so fast."
Quinn's eyebrow rises so quickly you'd think it attached to something, "Oh we're touching on that subject now? Then how are you exempt?"
Brittany shoots the blonde her own warning look, "I never said I was, but I'm going to make it up to her in other ways. Ways that I definitely don't want you attempting to complete. Probably sometime in the next hour before the crews meet up."
Quinn scrunches up her nose in mild disgust, "Okay, now who's touching on TMI?"
Brittany shrugs again, "Touché Fabray, but you should still apologize."
"Would it make you happy?"
"Delightfully so."
With an exaggerated roll of her eyes and another huff Quinn replies with, "Fine if it pleases you so much."
"There's my bestie. Thanks Q."
Quinn just waves her off with a grumbled 'yeah, yeah' as she decides her best course of action is to leave the garage. She gathers her book and heads for the exit. She's just about there when suddenly Brittany calls out behind her.
"Oh hey Quinn?" When she has the other woman's attention, Brittany puts on her most serious no bullshit face, "Call the others for a meeting at four, that should give me enough time to talk with Santana. Tell them there's a new plan to discuss and also a few other things I want to touch on."
Quinn merely nods, she's not about to argue with Brittany on this, she knows it won't do her any good.
###############
"I could get used to this you know." Brittany drawls as she watches Santana, or rather the lower half of Santana's body, sticking out from halfway under her Nissan, back flat on a creeper just outside the garage door of the shop. There's a clanking and a muttered string of Spanish curse words that make Brittany chuckle, she thinks it's sexy that she and Santana both get so invested in their work that the littlest of distractions can cause them minor injuries and bring forth cussing.
Besides that, Santana speaking Spanish is always a bonus as far as Brittany's concerned.
Kneeling down to the smooth concrete, Brittany reaches out and gently places her hand on Santana's knee dragging the woman out from under the car on her rolling workstation. She can't fight the enormous grin that spreads across her lips when Santana's face appears and there are grease smudge stains across her cheek and temple. Santana's eyes soften almost the second they connect with Brittany's.
"Hey, are you all done talking to Quinn?"
Brittany nods, "Yeah, now I was thinking that we could talk."
"I'd like that."
There's a sense of familiarity between the two women as Brittany stands up straight and stretches her hand out for Santana to take, pulling the smaller girl safely to her feet. She takes one more second to admire how beautiful the woman looks, reaching out to brush a stray hair out of those brown orbs before smiling and tossing her head in the opposite direction.
"Are you okay talking in my condo?"
Santana nods and somehow without any real thought or direction, their hands slide down and brush together before their fingers tangle in a firm clasp. Brittany turns to walk in the direction of her condo.
"Wait!" Santana's words halt her and she turns to see what the problem might be. She's not expecting Santana to grasp a wad of her shirt and tug their mouths together but that's exactly what does occur. Brittany quickly falls into the kiss, Santana's bottom lip fit nicely between her own, a soft tongue gliding across her top lip. She opens her mouth and tilts in further, deepening the kiss as she feels Santana's arms wrap around her neck and her own hands fall to frame slim hips.
They break the kiss several moments later and Brittany's eyes remain closed as she rests her forehead against Santana's.
"Wow."
Santana's breath comes in warm pants across Brittany's chin, "Yeah," she murmurs, "I had to do that to get that out of my system, clear my head a little you know?"
Brittany chuckles softly at Santana's words, "Hey, anytime you need to clear your head I'm here okay?" She jokes and earns a light hit to her shoulder.
"Ow woman! Damn."
"Oh stop, I needed to do that so that we wouldn't be tempted to do so during our talk, because you do realize that I'm going to be talking about how things like that can't just happen anymore right?"
Brittany sighs, but slowly she nods her head and her eyes regard Santana carefully, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting it to go something like that." Her tone is sad and reflects how deeply sorry she is about how certain things have gone down recently.
"I just need you to understand Brittany that this isn't a game or a fling or anything like that for me. I was serious when I said I care about you, that I…that I'm falling for you and I want to give you everything I can and everything I am, but I need to know you're serious about stuff and that you see me as more than just a simple fuck. I admit we both got ourselves into this, but I'm taking control over my feelings and I need to know where you stand."
"I completely understand Santana, and I want to prove to you that us, or the potential we could be, and you mean more to me than anything else. So I'm willing to talk, wait or whatever you need."
Santana studies Brittany and her body language for a second and realizes she's being genuine. She smiles and tilts up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Brittany's cheek.
"Okay then, I think we can reach some sort of common ground then."
With every intent of turning and walking back to Brittany's condo to further discuss things, Brittany and Santana, while standing hand and hand, are suddenly approached by a huffing and sputtering Rory. The boy seriously looks as though he's just run five miles.
"We have a situation boss," Rory starts to inform Brittany and bends at his waist to catch his breath while hooking his thumb over his shoulder at a quickly approaching figure, "I told him he couldn't be here, but he wouldn't listen."
Brittany glances up to examine who would dare trespass on her turf with everything going on right now and her jaw locks at the sight and person striding towards her. Big old lazy smirk plastered across his face. Suddenly, Brittany's calm façade is gone and she's gripping Santana's hand in that specific form of possessiveness that she has before.
"Oh hell no," Brittany exclaims, jabbing her free finger in the direction of the intruder, "This is not happening."
Okay I realize that this chapter was mostly a filler, but every single part of this chapter is going to help lead up to the end, plus it brings Brittany and Santana that much closer. So I hoped you enjoyed it. Sorry I had to leave you with another 'Who is that?' moment, but the chapter's kind of work out better that way. Any guesses whom it may be? I'll give you a hint, you haven't heard of them in my story before this chapter. Alright, I'll see you all Friday (probably!)
And look for an update to It Was Only Ever You tomorrow for a Smutty Saturday session. It's really good ;)