Title: Inside Out
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.4k
Summary: Santana's back from Indiana for Senior year. She lived here five years ago, but there's something different about the place.
Warning: G!P
Notes: It's been a long while... Apologies. Updating my other fics though if you need something to read in between!
/
By the time Santana climbs into bed, she remembers she owns a phone and manages to find it under a pile of clothes in the corner of her room, plugging it in to charge.
A chill runs down her spine at the memory of taking those clothes off, and because she's in such a light, fluffy mood, she just stares at them for a few minutes, remembering everything that's happened and throws herself on the bed, wriggling around like a child as she celebrates. Her and Brittany actually fucking happened, and she's been waiting for this for so long, ever since she almost ran over Brittany all that time ago and it was better than she ever could've imagined.
Honestly, she feels like a kid at Christmas that got picked up by Santa and personally flown to the North Pole to collect her presents.
She twists around, reaching for her phone and flicks open the lock screen when it turns on, typing out a quick message to the blonde to make sure she got home okay. She doesn't live that far away, and Santana wants to make sure that Brittany's parents won't give her shit for staying out for the night unexpectedly. Or expectedly. They didn't really discuss what happened after she left the party, but she did say she told her dad she was staying at Kitty's last night.
Anyway, it only takes a couple of seconds to get a reply and she opens the message, butterflies fluttering around inside her chest.
Home now, babe. Dad's asking a thousand questions though :/ - B xx
Santana scrunches her face up, those butterflies disappearing rapidly. Dealing with Dani is only the start of the shit they're going to have to face because Rick Pierce is probably the most problematic all of the drama. It's hard to date someone when their parents don't approve, and it's not like they'll be revealing anything about their situationship anytime soon but how the hell is she going to get Rick on her side? The guy is a top-class ass, and Santana still doesn't buy the cheating scandal bullshit excuse he gave after being outed in the news.
There's just something about the guy that makes Santana curl her fists. There's something she just doesn't trust about him.
But he is still Brittany's dad, and if they're going to become anything, she's going to have to do her hardest to make sure Rick is at least civil with her. Let's be honest, he's probably super chummy with Sam, as Santana can only imagine that's the type of person Rick wanted his daughter to end up with so that Sam and Brittany can build their white picket fence lives together and have blonde children and all that crap. Even if they look like brother and sister.
Just tell him you were out with friends all day. It's not entirely untrue… – S xx
There's only a beat before the reply is coming through, and Santana feels herself get all hot under the collar as she scans across the screen.
I don't think 'friends' do what we did last night... And this morning... And this afternoon... And this evening ;) – B xx
Santana chuckles but pushes away the growing arousal inside. She genuinely doesn't think she has anything left inside her. Fuck knows how Brittany's going to walk tomorrow at school – she'll be impersonating John Wayne – and honestly, at this point, how the hell is Santana going to walk? It feels like she's run twenty marathons in the space of a day and they're going to look hilarious if anyone sees them together.
Maybe they'll have to pretend like they worked out together or something.
Technically... That's not false. Sex burns calories the quickest out of any exercise.
Britt, you gotta stop or I'm coming to get you – S xx
She bites down on her lip, staring at the three little dots that let her know the other girl is replying instantly and tries not to plan how she could sneak around to the Pierce residence, not get caught, and see Brittany again. Although, the Dani issue still stands as she could turn up at Brittany's house at any point and as much fun as that would be to explain, Santana would rather stick her dick in a blender than ruin the last of this happiness bubble they're in.
I'm about three seconds away from saying yes but we really both need to sleep, or we'll be dead for school on Monday and Dani might still come round. I don't wanna burst our bubble just yet :( – B xx
Thank God she's not alone in her worries and matching the blondes thoughts. In the past twenty four hours, both of them must have got a max of about 5 hours sleep and Santana's so buzzed right now she knows it's not going to be easy to just shut her eyes and it's already almost 11 and she's got work tomorrow. Not to mention that Dani could very much still turn up at Brittany's house and if Brittany feels any similar way to Santana, she'll be grinning at her phone whilst texting and that would be a dead giveaway alone.
So, reluctantly, Santana agrees.
Okay, okay... Talk tomorrow? – S xx
She barely even gets to take a breath before it's ripped from her chest.
I don't think I can stay away from you anymore, so definitely – B xx
If she was honest, Santana would love to wake Brittany up with a Starbucks coffee and a croissant whilst picking her up to take her to school on Monday, but she acknowledges the issues with that and so it's not best to surprise her. Still, she bids her goodbyes and exhales heavily, grinning widely like a little kid when she throws herself back into bed, burying her nose into the bedsheets that smell of Brittany.
Life just got so much more exciting.
/
The morning comes and Santana is like a spring chicken.
She bounces down the stairs, two at a time, scares the crap out of her dad who spills coffee over the countertop and begins making her some toast for breakfast. There's a ten-hour shift ahead of her, but she doesn't even care. She woke up this morning, still aching like a mother, but elated with the knowledge that it wasn't just a dream and her and Brittany have finally happened. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and everything is freaking awesome. She's on cloud nine.
Nothing could stop her from smiling, right now.
"So, I'm guessing things with Brittany went well?"
Santana grins, unable to fight it as she shrugs at her dad. "You could say that."
Diego chuckles lowly, finishing off his bowl of cereal and gets up from the stool, dropping it into the sink. He turns, leans on the counter, and folds his arms over his chest, examining his daughter which is kind of annoying because whenever anyone watches Santana, she tends to forget what she's doing, but mostly because she doesn't have the answers to the questions she can feel forming in her dad's head.
"You've got prom coming up, right?" He asks instead, and okay, not what she was expecting.
"Yeah, I guess," she shrugs, burning the tips of her finger as she forgoes the kitchen cloth and yanks the toast out the toaster. "I'm not bothered about going, though."
Diego furrows his brow, face twisting with distaste. "Mija," he starts, and his voice is all parental and knowing. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. "It's a rite of passage for teenagers and it's your Senior year."
"And it's always either super underwhelming or someone goes all Carrie and I'm okay with not being part of either of those outcomes."
He clicks his tongue but reaches into the fridge, grabbing the butter and sliding it over to Santana. "You could go with Brittany," he offers and yup, that's what she was expecting. She shakes her head, thanking him quickly for the help, but the advice? She can go without. He's better on advice with like, cars and stuff.
"Dad, I'm not going with Brittany or anyone," she catches his eye. "We haven't even discussed us and like what we are to each other, and we're just taking it slow, okay? So please," she butters her bread then replaces the lid back on top. "Just drop it."
Diego accepts the answer, not wanting to push which she's kind of glad for because even though he only pushes when he genuinely thinks he's got a good idea, Santana knows this isn't one of his best. Prom is usually bullshit, and she hasn't even spoken to Quinn or Rachel to see if they're going yet and maybe they can all go solo together if the topic were to arise... Even if they're both dating someone and okay, that's already a failed plan so maybe Santana can go solo, and so can Brittany and they can conveniently meet up there.
But whatever, she doesn't need to worry about that right now.
"Can we go to work?" Santana asks, steering away from the previous topic and it doesn't pass Diego's notice as he pinches his lip up at the side before bobbing his head in defeat.
"Sure thing, mija."
She bites her toast between her teeth after smiling thankfully and grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as they both head out the house.
/
Work is… uneventful.
Santana spends half her shift sitting at the desk, staring at the phone, and wishing it would ring just so she would have something to do, and the other half daydreaming about Brittany and everything that's transpired between them. She gives in the urge to text her after her third daydream where she nearly fell off the chair grinning, and messages Quinn too, just to tell her she wasn't like, abducted on the way home or whatever and Quinn texts back with several exclamation marks at the end of her explicit text calling Santana an asshole for making her worry.
She can't argue.
She'd be pissed as hell if Quinn disappeared from a party in a horrific mood, then when ghost for the next day or so, and so she takes the capitalised text message that's conveying concern and anger and apologises. Her friend seems to back down, telling her that she needs to update her on everything at school tomorrow but that she's busy with Puck, and Santana gets this buzz of excitement, counting down the hours until she can pull into the parking lot and see Brittany again and tell Quinn everything because she's one of the few Santana can trust.
Anyway, the hours go by, and Santana shuts up shop with her dad, flicking the lights off before she leaves and climbs into her truck, telling him she'll meet him at home. They didn't drive into work together as usual, knowing that a single call out would leave one of them without a ride and her dad tips his baseball cap at her before clambering into his own truck and disappearing. She follows quickly and manages to get one leg inside the truck before something stops her.
It's a voice, calling her name, and she freezes, wondering if she's just imagining things but then she sees a car, parked down the street, headlights flicking off as a figure climbs out. It comes towards her and when they come into light only a few feet away, she's more than confused.
"Mr Pierce?" She calls out, screwing her face up because yup, no doubt, it's Senator Pierce, making his way towards her in a dark suit, hands stuffed into his pockets.
"Santana," he greets, but his voice is low and hard. If it were daytime, this wouldn't seem so intimidating, but Santana finds her palms getting sweaty and throat thick because no conversation with him ever goes well. Especially after Santana spent the night with his daughter who he made a point of asking her to stay away from. He's all pro Sam Evans and even the thought makes Santana feel sick to her core.
Still, she's never backed down before and returns her foot to the curb, ready for hear whatever Rick has to say.
(The dread runs thick in her veins.)
"The shops shut," she offers, gesturing to the closed-up garage but Rick smirks and scoffs out a short, quiet laugh, shaking his head.
"I'm not here for my car," he replies and now he's a few steps away from her, staring down with bright eyes. They're narrowed though, almost into a glare. "I was hoping to catch you, actually."
Yup. Awesome. Just what Santana wants after a ten-hour shift. "What did you want me for?"
A smile graces Rick's face, but it doesn't reach his eyes and he shifts over to the flatbed part of Santana's truck, dusting down the metal before leaning his perfectly pressed suit sleeve against the lip. "As you're aware, I'm a Senator which means myself and my family have a certain… responsibility," he starts, and she can see he's choosing his words carefully. He might as well have not said family and said Brittany, but Santana knows it's an intimidation tactic. It's kind of working. "And due to those responsibilities, we move around a lot."
Santana's expression faulters, but she holds blue eyes strong. She has no idea why he's telling her this, but she's guessing he's getting to the point. "Okay?" She lifts a brow.
"So, I just thought I'd let you know that when Brittany finishes her Senior year," he begins smirking and the dread Santana felt earlier? Nothing in comparison to this. She knew there was something she didn't like about this guy and every time they meet, she only believes it more. "We will be moving out of state to Washington."
If there was a smile on her face, it would've dropped off quicker than her heart leaves her chest. Hurt flares across her body, scorching her skin and heat rapidly builds behind her eyelids but she just clenches her jaw against it, refusing to cry because she knows that's what he wants. This guy would really do anything to keep her away from his daughter and sure, Brittany's not ruled by her dad – she's eighteen, a freaking adult – but there's no way in hell she'd stay behind whilst her entire family uprooted across the country, given the ultimatum.
Which means that they have a deadline, as a couple. It means the fire burning between them is going to be extinguished before it's even really grown, and Santana wishes she'd just left when her dad did so she wouldn't have had to stand here and hear this from Rick fucking Pierce. Not only because she doesn't know if it's true and he's just screwing with her, but because now she's put in a position where she has to fucking ask Brittany. That's not fair.
Although if she's wishing things, she'd wish that he wouldn't be out for Santana's blood and trying to separate her and Brittany, but it's not like she has a say in it.
"Isn't that for Brittany to decide?" She challenges, feeling fight curdle in her stomach. Him taunting her is only fuelling the fire burning inside her chest to lash out at him and her nails dig into her palms as she holds back that urge. After all, she knows who she trusts, and who she doesn't in this situation and if Brittany had any inkling that this would be happening, Santana just knows she'd tell her about it. There's no way in hell they'd be the way they are if Brittany knew that she'd have to move in a matter of weeks – it wouldn't make any sense. "Considering she's an 18 and an adult?"
Rick's smirk drops, turning into a hardened expression and a feeling of smugness comes over her, but it quickly disappears when the man takes a long stride forward and then he's towering over her as she clings to the door of her truck. Again, she refuses to back down and holds her head high in a defiant manner, even if a grown man is basically threatening her with his close proximity.
"You forget who you're talking to, Miss Lopez," he kindly reminds her, tone flat and dead and her entire being wants to spew the venom forming in the back of her mouth. "She is my daughter, and she'll do as I say."
But she doesn't even have a chance to respond, or even a chance to think of a response because then there's headlights flashing to their right, stealing the limelight and a truck is pulling up in front of them rapidly, tyres screeching against the tarmac, yanking them out of the intense atmosphere. Seconds later, Diego is shooting out the vehicle and marching straight up to them and God damn, Santana's never been happier to see her dad.
He's got impeccable timing.
"Senator Pierce," Diego half-growls, his shoulders lifted but hands deeply rooted in his pockets like he's going into protection mode as he stalks towards the blonde man. His dark eyes turn into slits, jaw visibly clenching, and Santana flits her vision between the two men, sensing that there's more than meets the eye. Does her dad know Rick?
"Diego," the taller man counters, curtly, straightening up, palms brushing down his suit jacket and it's only now that Santana realises he was actually towering over her, she didn't just feel that way. He was leaning down towards her, all up in her face and she instinctively takes a step back, towards her dad, wondering where that could've led had he not shown up, but she knows it probably wasn't anywhere good. Especially if her dad's reaction is anything to go by.
"What can my daughter help you with at this time of night, Senator?" Diego questions with a tilt of the head and Santana resists the urge to smirk when she sees the eyebrow raise, much like hers always does.
"We were just discussing servicing Brittany's car," Rick tries but there's no way in hell she's letting that piece of shit lie his way out of this. He's turned up here, after her shift, probably waiting in the shadows until her dad left to approach her and who even does that? What type of grown ass adult stalks a barely legal teenager just to inform her of some bullshit that may not even be true?
This guy is dodgy as fuck. No wonder he's in government.
"Or we were talking about you taking Brittany to Washington and you got all up in my grill," she chortles with a knowing smile. Rick's upper lip curls in reaction. "At least, that's what you started with, right?"
Her dad's entire face drops, upper lip curling and he takes a purposeful step in front of Rick, squaring his shoulders even further. They're not equal in height, her dad being a couple inches shorter, but she knows he's a tough nut – in his teenage years, he used to cage fight for cash – and so he's seeming super intimidating right now. To the point where Rick physically moves away, taking a step backward and to the side, away from Santana's truck and tightens his jaw like he's just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Is that right?" Diego asks, pulling his brows together and folding his burly arms over his chest. "Sounds an awful lot like you were threatening my daughter," he hisses out. "Not a good look for someone with your calibre."
And shit. He's badass. Coolest dad ever.
Rick chokes out a strangled laugh, clapping his hands together and rubbing them nervously, and Santana feels her heart bloom with adoration for her dad because Rick's actually backing away. Like literally shrinking in front of her very eyes and damn, she's probably going to get shit for this interaction, and she has a thousand questions she's going to need her dad to answer because a grown man shrinking at the sight of another for no reason? Nah, she's not buying that. There's gotta be some history there to back up her dad's menacing demeanour.
"I think there was a miscommunication," Rick finally responds, eyes shifting to Santana. "Guess we won't be getting anywhere further tonight," he states, meeting Diego's eyes once more. "Enjoy your night, Diego," blue eyes flash to her. "Santana."
Diego sharply through his nose, clearly expecting such a reaction. "You too, Rick," he uses a hardened tone on the name and Rick turns around on his heel, beginning to walk away. "Oh, and buddy?" Diego follows up, gaining the other man's attention as he peers over his shoulder. He sucks his lips into his mouth and his face twists into a devilish glare. "Stay away from my kid, yeah?"
Mouth wide open, Santana stares; she's not only like, worshipping her dad right now, but she's also super impressed. She's never had one of these moments with her dad, always being able to handle herself – shit, she gave Puck a bruised jaw back when they were taken by those Carmel High assholes – but she's glad for the opportunity. Having not spent a lot of time with her mom, or remembering a hell of a lot about her, she never really knew where parts of her personality came from. However, it's evident that her feistiness came from her dad, and she grins at the realisation.
Rick doesn't reply, his expression returning to stoic, and he stiffly nods his head before slipping back into his car, roaring off into the distance. The silence sets in around the Lopez's heavily though, both of them as quiet as possible for a long moment and Santana can't help but feel like her dad just got her out of a really sticky situation.
"What the hell was that?" Her dad asks and turns, the lifted brow now directed at her. Not so amusing when she's on the receiving end of it.
She's fucked if she knows though.
There's no way Rick could know that Brittany spent the night with her, regardless, and so he must have caught wind of a suspicion or just automatically assumed and came to try and separate them again with (hopefully) empty threats. Not that he'd be wrong; they were together last night, but to try and part them is just straight up savage. If what he said is true though, then Brittany's going to have to make the decision herself – she is an adult, as Santana pointed out – and it's so messed up that her dad would try and ruin something that makes something happy? That her dad would even put her in a position like that?
Isn't that the point of being a father? Ensuring his daughters happiness instead of trying to destroy it?
Again, Santana doesn't know, and standing looking into the distance isn't going to change that. She's gotta get answers.
"I don't know," she finally replies, glancing one last time into the direction the car disappeared, but she can't answer her dad's question without getting some more information herself. Her mind is now flurrying with her own questions and she's gotta get them out of there or they'll stew, and she'll overthink everything again. Overthinking can lead to ruining shit based on assumptions, and she's been there too many times. "I've gotta call Britt."
Her dad drops his hand on her shoulder and turns her with the grip until they're face to face. "Keep your GPS on, okay?" He lightly commands, and Santana would question it but she's guessing after she didn't get home minutes after him, he probably checked her location and thought something was up which is why he came screaming back here. She can't be mad at him for that.
"Sure, pops," she smiles and climbs into her truck, ready with a hundred questions and a potential to be hurt again.
/
Santana doesn't call Brittany until she gets home.
But she kicks off her shoes and runs upstairs, telling her dad not to disturb her as she dials a familiar number into her phone, pressing it to her ear as she clicks her bedroom door shut behind her. Her heart is beating a thousand times a minute and she doesn't want to approach this negatively, or accuse Brittany of anything, but the pressure has been building since Rick Pierce walked away from her and no matter how desperately she tries to push away the anxiety that this situation brings, it's eating her up inside.
Less than twelve hours ago, she thought they were heading somewhere but now it seems like a pipe dream. She knows what Rick is like from her previous conversations with him, and now her dad's gone all alpha on his ass, she thinks he knows a little something more about him. Like the realisation of what lengths, he would go to, to stop them from being together, even though she doesn't exactly understand why he's being like that. It's not like she's ever done Brittany wrong really, but she's way more concerned about how Brittany is going to take the news.
A few rings of the line and there's a voice picking up at the other end, soft but with a tinge of excitement. She's about to find out.
"San?"
"Britt," Santana breathes, sitting on her bed and grasping on to the side with her free hand. "We gotta talk," she breathes and there's a long pause. Long enough that Santana puts together an alternate ending to that sentence that might freak the blonde out and she shakes her head and quickly blurts out, "No, not like that," to stop Brittany overthinking.
"Okay…" The blonde replies, voice weak and hesitant but Santana doesn't want to beat around the bush.
"Your dad came swung by the auto shop," she states, and she doesn't really know how to say the next part, mostly because it wasn't an active threat, but it was enough for her dad to intervene. Brittany stays quiet down the line though, just the sound of her shaky breath down it and Santana urges herself to continue. "And he said something that I wanted to ask you about."
"Anything," the blonde counters, and it's so quick that Santana knows she's going to get the truth, regardless. She has full trust in Brittany. "What did he say?"
She bites her lip, gnawing gently to try and find her zen place as she searches for the right way to phrase this. On one hand, if she just straight up says that Rick threatened her, there's a strong chance that Brittany won't hear the rest of the story and hang up, ready to interrogate her dad. But on the other, she doesn't want to let this slide as just another thing that Senator fucking Pierce gets away with. It seems like he gets off scot-free with everything, including a scandal about him freaking cheating.
"He told me when we graduate," she inhales deeply to pause, sending a quick prayer to the man in the sky that she's not going to get a confirmation of her question. She doesn't think she can handle getting and losing Brittany within twenty-four hours. "That your family's moving to Washington," she finally gets out, but when there's not an immediate response, she finds the word vomit coming. "He said that you'll do as your told because you're his daughter, even when I reminded him that you're an adult."
Maybe reminded was an adaptation of the truth. There was definitely aggression behind her tone when she said that to him, and she was trying to make a point of fighting back – that's just what she does when she feels threatened – but Brittany still doesn't reply and Santana's heart begins to beat a little faster, her blood shooting through her a little quicker. Pretty much any reply at this point would be a good one, but instead she's met with a deafening silence that makes her check that Brittany's still on the line by pulling her cell phone away from her ear.
But, yeah, Brittany's still there. She's just not speaking.
"He said what?" Finally comes out and the pressure around Santana's chest loosens a little, relief flushing over her skin, cool and sharp. Brittany didn't know but judging by the weakness of her voice that she's hurt.
Fuck.
"I'm sorry, Britt–"
"I've gotta talk to him," the blonde interrupts and Santana's mouth snaps shut. Guilt thrums through her. She didn't mean to upset the girl. "Santana, I've gotta go."
"But, Britt–"
For the second time, she's cut off. "I'll see you tomorrow, San–" Brittany's voice breaks. "I'm sorry."
Left completely stumped, Santana pulls her phone away as the line clicks down the end and stares at it for a long moment. That didn't go the way she'd planned, although she supposes she didn't really know how Brittany would react to that. After finding out about her dad in the news, she locked herself in a toilet for twenty minutes then ran out of school, so this isn't entirely out of the blue.
But still, it's very unlike the blonde to react like that to her after they're sort of… Whatever the hell they are, and so she refuses to let it end there, pressing Brittany's number and hanging on as the line rings, but no-one picks up. She tries again, her thumbs hitting the screen harder, her heart beating faster and frustration begins building as the line just repeats over and over, taunting her like a siren before Brittany's voicemail echoes down the end.
By the fifth attempt, with no answer still, she lobs her phone across her bedroom into the corner and throws herself back on to her bed, grunting loudly.
Guess she won't get any more answers tonight.
/
Santana barely slept.
Maybe two or three hours tops, but she gets that groggy, achy feeling behind her eyelids when she wakes up and forces herself to get out of bed.
It's Monday, and she gets dressed and hops into her car, not feeling as bright as she expected. After the five attempts at calling Brittany last night with no answer, she tried to watch reruns of Friends to distract herself, but all she could think about is why Rick would make up such a thing about moving to Washington? And even if he isn't lying, what positive reaction is he possibly going to get from tearing Brittany away from the person she wants to be with?
There is no good outcome with that threat, either side of the table.
All those questions and pondering run through her mind as she gets to school, and she pulls up into the parking lot to find Quinn and Puck already there, standing beside his Chevy. It's beaten up and old, but it's got a bad ass boy kind of feel to it and prior to hooking up with tutor girl, as Dani so aptly named Quinn, he's sort of lost that edge to him. Even taking a bullet didn't boost his reputation, but he doesn't seem to mind much and Santana kind of envies how easily they got away with their relationship.
Although she does acknowledge that the circumstances were completely different.
Anyway, she clambers out her truck, slamming the door behind her and slings her backpack over her shoulder, making her way over to her friends. They both notice her at the same time, turning to lean against Puck's car as they smile instead of a verbal greeting and Santana readies herself for some type of back lash from her best friend. The last time they spoke was Saturday night through text and Quinn called Santana an asshole, even after she apologised.
"Hey guys."
"Oh, so you do remember who I am?" Quinn remarks, but there's a playfulness in her tone that Santana appreciates right now. She's pretty sure she looks like shit after barely any sleep, and she rubs her neck as she gets closer to the other people.
"I'm sorry, Q," she replies, lifting one side of her lip up in a half-smile. "Still your best friend, though?"
Puck chortles and Santana grins when hazel eyes roll. "Unfortunately," Quinn counters and shifts closer to her boyfriend when he pulls her a little closer. "What happened, anyway? Give us the details."
Memories of the entire weekend flash before Santana's eyes and honestly? She doesn't know where to start. She could start with her and Brittany, although she knows they're supposed to be keeping it on the down low and Puck's here. Quinn's a given – she's her best friend, it's not like she's not going to tell her – but she's a little hesitant about the jock still. Sure, after everything they've been through, they're basically friends, but it still feels strange to her to discuss his ex-girlfriend and the sordid details of their sex lives.
So, she guesses mentioning Rick might be a good place to start. Ease into the story, and perhaps avoid certain parts of it.
"Well," Santana moves towards them and leans against the car, but with the tip of her shoe propping her weight up as her elbow leans on top of it. "Senator Pierce paid me a little visit last night after my shift," she says, like it's totally normal for that to happen and Quinn tilts her head, attention narrowly focused on her friend as her face twists with confusion, shock, and intrigue. Puck just stares like he doesn't understand. "Told me the Pierce clan is up and moving to Washington after Brittany graduates."
Hazel eyes bug open, Quinn's mouth mirroring it and she gasps dramatically. "He can't do that to Britt," she wrinkles her nose up. "Can he?"
"I don't know," Santana shrugs because well, she doesn't. Given the choice, she's not sure what Brittany would do. Staying would mean abandoning her family, her mom, and her little sister, but leaving would mean keeping them and if Santana had the same option about leaving her dad, there's no way in hell she would.
"Brittany wouldn't leave this place unless it was like, for college or something."
It's Puck, and Santana glances to him, a little surprised at his input. "You sure about that?"
He shrugs and Quinn looks to him, too, bunching her eyebrows together. "I know her family; we did date for a year and her mom and dad's relationship isn't that strong," he explains. "And I'm sure about Brittany's feeling towards you," he adds and shifts his vision between his girlfriend, back to Santana. "They're nothing like the ones she had for me and she's an adult, right anyway? She can make her own decisions."
"Yeah, she can choose."
Santana chuckles lightly at her best friend parroting Puck, but it doesn't quell the unease in her stomach and the laughter soon dies out. She doesn't reply, not having anything more to add because they're as clueless as she is on the Pierce family, and it seems pointless to discuss it further. Having a dad as a Senator must be hard and knowing that Brittany didn't go to McKinley Middle School, Santana knows that she must have transferred over for Freshman year and so she must have come from somewhere.
Maybe being in the government, they have to move around a lot and so this might not be entirely out of the ordinary, but it's new information to Santana.
Terrible information, but information none-the-less.
"Why'd he say that though?" Quinn asks, folding her arms over chest and expression turning hard. "He's always been such a dick but that seems a little…" She pauses. "Out of the blue?"
Puck laughs again, bobbing his head. "Probably just an empty threat," he offers and shrugs at Santana. "Doesn't necessarily mean anything. He didn't like me and that was for no reason."
"That's totally understandable," the blonde retorts, blowing a kiss to follow the insult and it makes everything feel a little lighter, a little less pressurised.
Santana's glad for that, and regrets not going over to see her best friend over the weekend, but she knows she was otherwise occupied. Plus, if what Puck was saying is true, then maybe she's just adding on to a long line of people that Rick doesn't feel like are good enough for his daughter which, she can't really be mad at. He isn't right, and she can only prove that by continuing to do what she's doing.
Although answering back to him probably isn't fighting Rick's opinions, but she won't change for him and it seems Brittany likes her enough the way she is, so that should be good enough.
"Could be," she chews her bottom lip, wondering if it's a possibility but then she sees the hazel eyes narrowed in a glare her way and she stops. "What?"
"Are you telling us everything?" Quinn asks, doing that face like she's going to get the truth out of Santana one way or another.
But Santana just pauses, eyes flitting to the jock hesitantly, and then back again and well, if he managed to keep Quinn a secret whilst they were 'tutoring' as Quinn used to call it, then maybe he's okay to hear this news.
"Okay, maybe he had a little…" Brown eyes search the sky, looking for the right way to word what happened. "Encouragement, as to why he might want to threaten me," she lifts her shoulder.
"Which is?"
She can't help the smile that pulls at her lips, but she still tries to hide it. "Something may have happened with Brittany," she whispers, checking the surroundings but nope, still seven-thirty on a Monday morning, so most people aren't here yet.
Quinn gasps for what seems like the hundredth time, pressing her hand to her chest. "Finally," she breathes and it's so not what Santana was thinking that she jerks her head back as her best friend steps forward. Finally? "Tell me everything."
But Santana doesn't want to gossip, and due to agreeing with Brittany that they're going to keep them on the down low whilst everything blows over – or erupts, depending on the reasoning behind Rick Pierce's threat – that she needs to play this cool. So, she desperately punches back the need to grin and beam about the weekend, forcing back the butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach at the memories and tilts her head to the side, trying to play it coy.
"We just… Got somewhere," she tries but her face must give it away because Quinn's mouth drops open, and another dramatic gasp follows.
God, her and freaking Berry could make it in a sapphic world. If they were on an episode of The L Word, they'd be slobbering over each other. No wonder they became best friends.
"WHAT!" The blonde basically screeches, and Santana clicks her tongue to chastise her friend and ducks her head like there's an audience but nope, just Puck. Who, as she glances at him, realises that he's equally as shocked. "You had sex didn't you," she accuses, and Santana tries not to react, but no words come to mind in defence, and she ends up smiling guiltily, brows raised and a crooked tilt of her lips.
Yup. So many times she genuinely can't count now and that was in a 24 hour period.
"You dog," Puck joins in, nodding his head proudly and Santana rolls her eyes.
"Shut up, douchebags," she hisses and folds her arms over her chest, adjusting her stance as she leans on Puck's car. "This whole Rick thing made it take an interesting turn though."
"Oh, shit," Quinn exhales, realising the connection between the two things she's just heard about. She tilts her head to the side sympathetically and Santana fucking hates that, so she looks away. "You think that's why he came to see you?"
Thing is, she still doesn't know the answer to that because her dad intervened, which is another story to tell but it can wait and a prickle in the air makes he want to check the time as it's close to when Brittany should arrive. She takes her phone out her pocket, eying the time to be just after 730 in the morning and chews the side of her lip as her eyes flit to the parking lot entrance. It's about the time Brittany gets in and just as expected, moments after looking over that way, a familiar SUV pulls in, heading towards them until it slides into the spot next to Santana's truck.
The sight makes her release a breath she didn't know she was holding, and she takes a couple steps away from her friends, peering over her shoulder, her eyes asking them to stay there which they both nod their head to, and she makes her way over to Brittany's SUV, stopping short of the driver's side door. Brittany doesn't get out immediately, but Santana watches her from the side and takes advantage of the moment to drink the view of the girl in.
Her hair's tied into the usual Cheerio's high pony, and she's got her uniform on but there's a navy-blue cardigan covering her torso and brown eyes narrow. Coach Sue will kick her ass if she sees she isn't in Cheerio standard attire, so Santana's already expecting the girl to be in a bad mood based off that – she ignores the tingles of knowing her well enough to notice that – and when the blonde climbs out, it's confirmed by the slight red tinge to blue eyes that gaze back at her in a way that make Santana's knees go weak.
"Hey," Santana breathes, the butterflies of seeing the girl kick in again and it's the first (of probably many) times where the urge to kiss her runs deep but she holds back on it. They're at school. They agreed to keep it on the down low and making out in the parking lot on Monday morning is probably not the most productive thing to do. Plus, Brittany kind of looks like she's been crying a lot and Santana's entirely distracted by that.
"Hey," Brittany greets, forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, but her hands reach out for Santana, gently taking them and pulling her forward, letting her know silently that it's not her that's made her cry, nor did she have anything to do with it.
The blonde pauses, blue eyes flitting to Quinn and Puck who purposefully grin back like two ecstatic parents excited to see their kids go in for the first day of school and it takes Santana hissing quietly and raising an eyebrow before Puck tugs his girlfriend's arm and they scurry away, peering over their shoulders as they head into school. Then they're left alone, and Santana squeezes pale hands as she breathes in Brittany's perfume.
"You okay?" She asks, cautiously, which is a dumb question because Brittany's obviously been crying recently and even though she's here in body, her mind is completely elsewhere. "You wanna go somewhere?"
Brittany sucks in her bottom lip when it begins to tremble but shakes her head, looking sadder than ever. "I really want to, but I can't," she replies, voice hoarse. Her blue eyes plead, and disappointment sets into Santana's chest. "I've gotta go meet the girls before practise."
Girls being Dani, Kitty and Bree, and Santana's half-glad that Dani's not putting two and two together and treating Brittany completely normally – she has no other reason to – but she also hates it because it means they're going to have to be super strict when it comes to touching. Not to even mention that Brittany's going to have to seem super surprised when Dani tells them all about her visit to Santana's house on Saturday night and combined with the needing to hide the whole Rick situation going on, it'll be a struggle for Brittany to keep both facades going.
Santana just hopes she won't break under the pressure. "I get it," she bobs her head and smiles. "Wanna have lunch with me?"
"Yes, please," Brittany replies, ducking her head but looking up through her lashes flirtatiously. It's the second time Santana wants to kiss her in the space of five minutes, and she's going to take a mental note so she can cash them in when they're alone.
A vibration breaks their gaze, and Brittany reaches into her bag for her phone, flicking it open and scanning across the screen. "They're nearly here," Brittany announces and bites her lip as she meets brown eyes. "I'll come meet you in the courtyard after third period?"
It's not like they're not friends, so having lunch together isn't too obvious, but Santana's still a little shell shocked that they'd be so public. It's not like they'll be kissing or cuddling or anything, but still… Although Brittany's super smart and Santana has enough trust in her that she'll be able to explain it, should her friends ask. Highly unlikely they won't, but Santana knows that the blonde will come up with something to steer them away from any other possibilities.
"Cool," she nods her head, sticking her thumbs beneath the strap on her backpack to resist the urge to grab Brittany. "See you later."
Brittany chews her bottom lip, eyes purposefully flicking down to Santana's lips and then she shoots her a wink, and if Santana could actually freaking move, she'd throw the girl into the back of her truck and have her way with her. But she was right, this is going to be fun.
"See you later," the blonde sings quietly, before spinning on her heel, kicking her foot so the flaps of her Cheerios skirt lift up in a way that makes Santana's head tilt to the side and mouth run dry and the girl disappears across the parking lot and into school.
It takes a good two minutes for Santana to follow.
/
Brittany finds her at lunch, just as promised, and skips over with brighter eyes than she had this morning to the table Santana's sitting at with Puck and Quinn in the courtyard.
Santana grins, glancing around to check no-ones watching but only comes across her two other friends, pretending like they're not looking but their eyes keep sliding to the side, peering out their peripheral vision. It's genuinely like they're excited for their kids first day at school, and as sweet as the intention is – them being ecstatic over the newly breached relationship – it's only going to make it more obvious in the long run and Santana snaps her fingers in front of their faces, glaring hard.
"Stop that creepy watching us crap," she spits and Quinn smirks. "We aren't zoo animals, you know."
"But you are kind of cute together," the blonde retorts and scrunches her nose. "It's nice to see you both happy."
And it should get Santana's upchuck reflex going, but inside she's completely agreeing, stomach feeling like it's about to fly away because they are happy, regardless of the bullshit surrounding them and they've been such a long time coming, she can also appreciate where Quinn has been coming from. Throughout all the drama, Quinn's been right there, lending an ear and getting all the gossip without being able to discuss it with others and now she actually gets to witness it first-hand the beginning of the happy ending.
(Or so Santana hopes.)
So, she keeps her witty retorts to herself and rolls her eyes as her blonde approaches the table, throwing a long leg over the bench and straddling it to face her, grabbing her entire attention.
"Hey," the blonde greets and yup, there's the third kiss Santana wants to give her.
So much so that she almost forgets to reply, instead tilting her head to the side and appreciating Brittany's face. "Hey, you," she whispers and beneath the table, the blonde stretches over a hand and loops her pinkie through Santana's, making her knees feel weak.
Thank God, she's sitting down, and that they chose the bench furthest in the corner, surrounded by a few trees so it would take a close proximity to see anything going on underneath the table. She uses the cover to slide her fingers through Brittany, her palms searing the second she grabs down, feeling like she can get through anything, as long as she gets to keep doing this with Brittany.
"How was your day?" She asks, genuinely curious to know. She wants to know everything about Brittany, but not in like a creepy stalker way. She just wants to soak up every part of her, plus she still wants answers about the whole Rick and moving to Washington thing. That's been weighing on her mind, but she doesn't want to force Brittany's hand to talk about it as there's a million questions included in that topic.
Like what it would mean for them if it happened.
But that's not something she wants to ask, in fear of the answer. Even if Puck said that Brittany's mom and dad aren't as strong of a couple as they put out there, but that's just his opinion.
The blonde grins but shrugs. "School part was boring," she answers but then something flashes behind her eyes and Santana narrows her own. "And Dani wants do to this pact thing for prom which is gonna suck."
Stealing the words straight from her mouth, Quinn interrupts. "What does she wanna do?"
"For all of us to go together solo," Brittany sighs, eyes flitting briefly to the other blonde before coming back to brown, staring sadly into them.
And it sucks, but honestly, Santana was serious when she was talking to her dad. Going to her Senior Prom isn't a priority or want, mostly because it's usually super disappointing and now she knows that she wouldn't even be able to go with Brittany if she did decide to go, her choice is solidified. Prom is so overrated, and yeah, she loves the hype of the night like any other girl, but she hasn't even been at this school for that long and in the time she has, there's been nothing but drama.
She can't imagine it won't come with the same and now she's got Brittany, she doesn't need to risk it. No need to mess up a good thing.
So she puts all of that into her expression, not looking too sad or disappointed – as that's what she's guessing Brittany's expecting, if her face is anything to go by – and offers a half-shrug, smiling weakly. "That sounds like a good idea to me… Not like I'm going anyway."
"What?" Quinn snaps from the side, and Santana glances to her friend.
"I'm not going to prom," she explains softly, despite the utter horror staring back at her from Quinn. And Puck, too. He looks like a deer in the headlights. The grip on her hands tighten and she looks back to Brittany, finding confused blue eyes. "What?"
"You're not going to prom?" Quinn continues but Santana waves her off and squeezes Brittany's hands, encouraging her to speak instead. This is kind of more important than Quinn having a bitch fit over her not going. It's not like it'll stop her from going. Or maybe Puck hasn't asked and that's why she's reacting like that, but Santana will find out later. She wants Brittany to know she's not upset.
"You're really not going?" Brittany says, but it's in a quiet whisper and Santana can see the hesitancy of discussing them out in public, probably because they agreed not to.
Right now, Santana doesn't care, so she shifts closer, taking a quick peek around the courtyard without seeing a flash of red and white and ducks her head, kissing the blonde as quickly to as possible and pulling back with a cheeky smile, earning a low giggle from her. Santana doesn't want her feeling disappointed or sad because it's really not that big of a deal – she hadn't planned on going anyway – and if anything, agreeing with Dani, Kitty and Bree that they'll all go solo is a way to disparage any potential suitors who feel like embarrassing themselves with a promposal.
She really doesn't know if she could bite her tongue with some douchebag ice hockey or football player asking Brittany to prom. How would she get out of swallowing that pill?
So, this is cool. This is easy, and Santana ignores Quinn's excited squeak at the kiss as she cocks her head to the side to really look at the blonde, putting all the understanding into her expression. "I wasn't going to anyway and that makes sense to go with your friends," she explains. "I can't go with you even if I wanted to, so what's the point?" She admits, half-smiling, but only get a sad one in return. "Honestly, Britt, I'm okay with this and it stops anyone trying to ask you if you all go solo, but together."
Brittany grins now, pinching her lips together like she's trying to hide it and Santana knows she's reassured her enough, so she decides to tackle the other issue – namely Quinn – and turns to her friend.
"Don't be sour about it, bitch," she quips and Quinn grimaces, folding her arms across her chest like a kid. "I'll still help you get ready and make sure you look acceptable for Puckerman over here."
Puck chokes on the sip he's taking of his drink and brown eyes flit to him, a perfect eyebrow lifting in silent question. "I, uh–" He stammers, putting his cup back down to the table and it only takes a glance between the two of them to realise why he did that. "I haven't, uh–"
"Oh," Santana leans forward, feeling a little smug at already having dealt with the prom thing when the happy couple haven't even approached it. "You haven't asked her yet," she teases, eying Quinn who's still sitting like a disappointed child, but now it makes a lot more sense than it did a minute ago. She wasn't just snappy because Santana wasn't going; she was snappy because if Santana isn't going, then neither is she because no-one's asked her. Not even her boyfriend. "Well, this is awkward isn't it," she teases, grinning widely.
"Shut up, Lezpez," he spits and even though it's a nickname he used to hurl at her as an insult, it just makes Santana laugh now. "I was going to ask," he follows but his voice breaks and Quinn whips her head around.
"You were?"
Feeling smug as shit for putting the limelight on Puck – he deserves some sort of revenge after the shit he's put her through – Santana just grins widely and flinches when Brittany pinches the top of her thigh, silently scolding her for teasing. Not like she isn't going to continue enjoying it, but she does so without the large smile and rolls her eyes when Quinn throws her a knowing glare. Santana's totally whipped already, but she really doesn't give a damn and the look in Brittany's eyes is enough to quell the frustration at not being able to say no to the girl. She's her biggest weakness.
"Yeah, I mean… If you want," Puck continues, his voice strained and embarrassed and Santana clenches her jaw against the urge to grin smugly at him again as he glances hesitantly at Quinn. "Thought we could like, wear matching colours and shit," he suggest and it's so unromantic that she can't help but roll her eyes again, for an entirely different reason this time. "If you want," he repeats, sweating buckets as he eagerly awaits an answer.
For some reason, Quinn seems to buy into the bullshit spewing from her boyfriend's mouth, even though he's basically just asked in the worst way possible – no promposal or anything – and melts into him, kissing him softly in a way that makes Santana's face wrinkle up. As much as her friends think she and Brittany are cute, she doesn't feel the same regard for watching public displays of affection when it's her best friend and the jackass who used to toss her into dumpsters, even if he's made up for it countless times now.
"You sure you're not going to come?" Brittany whispers, pulling Santana's attention back and she shakes her head, knowing that the likelihood was minimal before, but now it's just a straight up no because she can't be in the same room as Brittany when prom king and queen are announced. She's probably going to be in the running for it and regardless of this solo pact, Santana just knows prom is a perfect place for bullshit to happen and seeing as she's gone through so much recently, a little peace would be nice.
"Nah, I'm good," she shrugs and puts on a sincere expression, brows pinched together. "I'll help you get ready, though?"
Brittany beams a smile, even though her eyes don't shine as bright and Santana hates that she can't change this, but they've just got a place where they're good and she isn't willing to fuck it up. There's always something bad that comes along when it gets too good, and she feels like she's on cloud right now so avoiding any potential drama would be a good idea. Plus, if Brittany does end up winning prom queen, she won't have to sit there and watch her dance with a slobbering douchebag.
"Okay," the blonde breathes, pinching her lip up at the side and glances around the area quickly, before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of Santana's cheek. She kind of melts in response but holds back on the physical shudder as Quinn and Puck stop making out beside them, turning their attention. She's just teased them. She doesn't need to give them an opportunity to do it in return. "But will you come to the after party? Think Bree's going to have it."
Seeming like another opportunity for shit to go wrong, Santana goes to say no, but then she registers the hopeful spark in blue eyes and how Brittany holds her hand a little harder, and she's powerless to resist. She might just turn up and Brittany will be looking so damn good that she'll only be able to stay for five minutes before she's telling the blonde to meet her in her car for some alone time and make use of the blacked out windows, so she guess it won't be that bad if she goes.
"Fine," she huffs, but it's playful and Brittany grins. She just rolls her eyes afterwards and bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from leaning forward and kissing the blonde, but she knows she's not going to hold back for long. "Wanna come over after school?"
Brittany's nodding before the question has even left Santana's mouth, and her heart damn near collapses in her chest. "Definitely," the blonde breathes, eyes darting between brown ones.
And okay, she may not be going to prom, but she can at least blame the alcohol for any drunken touches or lingering stares at the afterparty.
/
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