(an); I would like to thank my wonderful beta for the prompt, the patience and for being the better half of our very own OTP.

I would also like to thank all those who added this story to their favorites and their alerts and, of course, I must thank the dearests who reviewed. I wasn't expecting such an intense reaction to this piece; every single one of you convinced me this was worth a second chapter. Now you have it.

On with the story.

XI

There's a funny feeling in Brittany's stomach every time she enters the subway after that; a mix of expectation and silly hope. She doesn't see Santana every day, but maybe she just might. Maybe she'll see Santana and they'll talk for a bit, like two acquaintances instead of two strangers. Maybe Santana will smile at her and sit by her side.

It takes six days for it to happen, and Santana does smile at her. It starts slow, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, as if she's holding back. When Brittany waves at her and comes closer, it turns into a full smile, reaching her eyes and showing her beautiful teeth. It's absolutely contagious.

Brittany is lucky enough that the seat next to Santana becomes empty in a few moments. She sits next to Santana and looks at her. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Brittany." Santana says, eyes lingering on Brittany's lips. Brittany's mouth feels dry as she wonders what it would be like to kiss Santana and smear that lipstick of hers. She, too, can't help but stare at Santana's lips. Their thighs are brushing; Brittany can feel the warmth through the fabric. Santana's scent overrides every other, wood and honey and something else.

XII

Brittany has been staring at her phone for at least ten minutes. She has Santana's card in her right hand, her left fingers drumming on her dining table. She should call. It would be the polite thing to do after a date. Not that she knew if it had been a date. She didn't generally go on dates with people she meets on the subway. But what if she doesn't call and then runs into her again on the train? That would be embarrassing. She has to call.

Taking a deep breath, Brittany dials the number. Each ring makes her more and more nervous. One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three. "Hello there." Santana's smooth voice answers. Brittany smiles.

"Hey." Brittany pauses for a moment. "I was just calling because I realized I still don't know what you do for a living." She bites her own lip, very pleased with herself. That was a smart move.

"And yet, I know all about the music studio and the kid recovering from a car accident in your ballroom class." Santana says with a hint of tease in her voice that makes Brittany blush furiously. "Funny, isn't it?"

She feels suddenly relieved Santana can't see her red cheeks and clears her throat before answering, "I guess I'm not a good detective, after all."

"We should meet up again so you can continue your investigation." Santana says nonchalantly, and Brittany's heart flutters in her ribcage. It is hard to believe Santana had actually enjoyed talking to her.

She feels braver. "Maybe tomorrow?"

XIII

It's night already, warm and slow. The bar isn't too crowded; there are just a few men and women enjoying a few beers. Generally, at this hour Brittany would be teaching contemporary dance, but the class had been cancelled. Santana asks the bartender for more shots of tequila.

It's the first time Brittany sees Santana out of her work clothes. Her raven hair falls in soft waves on her naked shoulders, her collarbone exposed; her black dress hugs every curve of her body a little too much and allows for too much thigh exposure; her lipstick is red and inviting.

When she briefly touches Brittany's knee, it sends a jolt through Brittany's entire body. It might be the three shots they have already had, but they're leaning towards each other, and Santana's cleavage is almost overwhelming in that angle. The faint smell of lemon reaches her nose, traces from previous shots.

Brittany really wants to kiss Santana.

She also decides she has to be bold. "You know, I'm reaching several conclusions." She says, placing a hand on Santana's thigh. She holds her breath for a moment, but Santana doesn't seem to mind and makes no move to shake it off. That's good.

The bartender places the shots on the counter, but Santana ignores him and holds Brittany's gaze. "Do tell." Santana speaks in a low, sultry tone, as she traces Brittany's hand lightly; it sends shivers through her.

Brittany feels all her blood flooding south already. She takes a deep breath; does her heart always beat this wildly? "You're single." She can't help but notice Santana's lips are parted. "You probably wouldn't have coffee with me if you weren't." She pauses, fingers running along Santana's thigh slowly. "But mostly, you wouldn't take me to a bar if you had another girl in your life."

Santana lifts one eyebrow, the right corner of her mouth lifting in a faint smile. "Girl?"

"Just a feeling." Brittany leans in even closer. She tilts her head, hovering over Santana's lips as she waits for a reaction. Santana doesn't answer; instead, she closes the distance and covers Brittany's lips with her own.

XIV

Kissing Santana exceeds all expectations. Santana kisses soft and teasing, her thumb running along Brittany's jaw as her fingers rest on her neck. She kisses Brittany's lower lip, pulling softly. Brittany whimpers, but the sound is muffled by Santana's lips on hers again. Brittany nudges Santana's upper lip and takes a slow, light bite.

She feels dizzy and it is going too slow; she runs the tip of her tongue on Santana's lip, asking for an entrance that is promptly granted. Santana tastes a little like tequila, but Brittany doesn't mind. Santana is in no rush; their tongues sliding against each other are almost lazy. Brittany's stomach is in knots, on the floor and flying away at the same time; her skin crawls when Santana sucks her tongue.

The sound of Santana's cell phone ringing breaks them apart. Brittany watches Santana lick her lips, their faces still so close and her own hand still on Santana's thigh, burning. "Not bad, Sherlock." Santana smirks before standing up to take her call. Brittany has to hold back her silly grin because she was obviously not bad, and if the way Santana was looking at her was any indication, not bad was actually impressively good.

Santana comes back and doesn't sit on the stool again. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." She pauses. Brittany frowns. Had she done something wrong? "Work."

"Oh." Brittany nods, trying to hide her disappointment. "Okay." There isn't much to say.

Santana rolls her eyes. "No need to look at me like that." She says, joining their lips. It takes Brittany by surprise, but she doesn't complain. Santana cups her face, pulling her lower lip, before breaking away. "See you."

She leaves, walking with a sway on her hips that is nothing but intentional.

XV

Brittany spends the next morning daydreaming about Santana's lips, Santana's skin and Santana's tight black dress. When she goes to bed, Santana sneaks into her dreams, whispering words in her ear and pressing against her.

XVI

She doesn't see Santana coming. She's distracted by the music coming out of her ear buds and checking how many stops there are left when she feels someone's arm against her as she stands in front of the doors.

She grins a little when she looks to her side and it's no one other than Ms. Possibly A Lawyer But Who Knows, in a shirt so red that the air around it must be a few degrees warmer. "Hi." Santana says, brushing her hand against Brittany's. It's enough to make Brittany's heart race.

"Hi." She answers, nudging Santana. "Come here often?" Brittany asks in a light tone. Santana laughs a bit and rolls her eyes. It feels comfortable and uncomplicated, and Brittany doesn't mind that most of their ride together is silent.

Their hands touch the entire way.

XVII

When her phone rings and she sees Santana's name on the screen, she rushes to the bathroom. "Hi." She says, a little breathless. "You called."

"I did." Santana says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I was wondering how you've been."

"That's nice." Brittany replies softly. The implied meaning that Santana cared enough to wonder about her day and to ask if she was okay is new and exciting. Brittany bites her lower lip, leaning against the tile wall. "I've been, you know, working. The show's opening night is next week."

"That sounds exciting."

"It's getting crazy around here." Brittany smiles against her phone and pauses for a moment. "I could get you a ticket, you know. I have connections." The sound of Santana's laugh is beautiful and free and Brittany wants to hear it again and again.

XVIII

Brittany loves the thrill of organizing an event. She loves how it all develops by stages and how the seed of an idea grows enough to have a team of its own and how it transforms into reality. She loves the myriad of small details that must come together unsuspected and silent in order to make it happen.

She loves the rustling of the backstage, people walking around, dancers getting ready, sound being checked for the 5th time, the producer commanding his small army, makeup artists finishing their touches.

She's been on her feet for the last couple of hours, running errands. She forgets her feet hurt when the music starts and she has a window to actually see the show she played a part in develop in front of her eyes. Her own job seems to have multiplied into a thousand other jobs, but she doesn't mind. She even forgets Santana is coming to the opening because there are dancers and rehearsals at first and calls to make, errands to run and a show to witness, at last.

She always gets nervous before a performance, even if she's not one of the dancers anymore. When the stage is dark, the audience is silent and everyone is in position, she holds her breath. The red spotlight breaks through the darkness and the lead dancers begin to move.

It is beautiful.

XIX

It hits Brittany harder than it should when she sees Santana in a tight, short black dress and their eyes lock.

Never mind the fact everyone is leaving and she should probably be doing something. Never mind that someone has just bumped into her; she sees nothing but Santana leaning against a wall, hair falling down her shoulders, luscious and enticing.

Brittany walks to her, trying not to trip in the process. "You came." She says in a hushed tone, biting her lip. One of her hands tucks a stray of blond hair behind her ear, because she doesn't know what to do with her hands.

"I wouldn't miss it." Santana answers with a small grin. "And I'm impressed." She stretches her hand and Brittany takes it, registering how her skin contrasts with Santana's for a second before Santana is pulling her closer and wrapping her arms around Brittany's waist.

Thinking is no easy task when she's pressed against Santana like that. "Well, I —I mean, you know, I played a very small part—" Santana's thumbs are running circles on the small of her back, electrifying her body from head to toe. There are people around them, there's the sound of chatter and things being moved around, there's music coming from somewhere; still, she has never felt this close to someone, this comfortable.

Santana smiles at her, and she smiles right back.