Chapter 26 – Lesbos

When Santana woke the next morning the shock of the night before had worn off and she was pissed. Who the fuck did that bitch think she was?

She slipped from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth … again. She still tasted copper and that was pissing her off even more. Who wanted a mouthful of pennies? She showered and winced at the pain on her breast and between her legs. She looked down but couldn't see much. Once she had dried off and slipped a robe on, she wandered back into the bedroom where she was met with sleepy blue eyes.

"How you feeling?" Brittany's voice was rough with sleep.

"Better. Pissed off. So, yeah, much better. I'm not saying I'm totally okay; I'm sure I'm going to have flashbacks or whatever but … it wasn't my fault, I didn't do anything wrong." Santana's voice was strong and sure. She believed it. She wasn't sure she KNEW it, but she believed it.

Brittany smiled. "Good. That's good." She got up and moved to Santana, opening her arms for the pretty brunette.

Santana stepped into them and wrapped her arms about Brittany's back, holding her close; breathing her in.

"Britt?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Brittany stepped back to look at Santana without letting her go.

"Kiss me?" Her voice was quiet.

"San?"

"It's just … I can't get the taste of copper out of my mouth. I've brushed my teeth, like, five times and it just won't go away." She sighed. "All I could smell was her last night but then I slipped into your arms and your scent chased hers away … I'm hoping that you can get rid of the taste." Santana finished sheepishly.

Brittany cupped Santana's chin and tipped it up, lowering her lips to Santana's and gently kissed her. It was soft and slow and, after a moment, Brittany's tongue slid across Santana's bottom lip requesting access. Their tongues began to dance and Santana moaned as Brittany filled her senses; all she could feel was Brittany's arms, all she could smell was Brittany's clear-summer-day scent, all she could taste was Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. Everything was Brittany. Santana melted further into the blonde's arms. When they finally pulled away, Santana sighed softly as she laid her head on Brittany's shoulder.

"Mmm. Thank you."

Brittany giggled. "You never have to thank me for kissing you."

Santana looked up and smiled brightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Can you put fresh bandages on my shoulder?"

"Of course." Brittany grabbed the bag with the medical supplies in it.

"Um, Britt?" Santana was hesitant again.

Brittany looked at her questioningly.

"Can you … um … can you look … down there? It's really sore but I couldn't see much. I just wanna know how bad it is." Santana flushed with embarrassment.

"Of course, honey. Let me bandage your shoulder. Then I can put the Arnica on your wrists, boob, and," Brittany grinned, "down there."

Santana laughed and shook her head.

Brittany made sure the shoulder wound was cleaned and applied the antibiotic ointment and then covered it with gauze and taped it down. She then used the Arnica gel on the bruises on Santana's wrists, which were already fading, and her boob, which was looking slightly worse this morning.

"Ok, sit on the edge of the bed and open the robe and I'll check you out," Brittany said with a grin and an eyebrow waggle.

Santana laughed again; grateful Britt was making this less awkward. She did as Britt instructed and felt Brittany's fingers deftly applying the gel to her thighs and mound.

"It's not that bad, honey. Most of what you can see is what there is; there's a little more bruising on your inner thighs but your mound and lower is pretty clear." She stood up and kissed the top of Santana's head. "You should be okay in a couple of days. They're not as dark as the ones on your boob but they're not as faint as the ones on your wrists."

"Thank you, Britt."

"Of course. I'm going to shower then maybe we can get brunch or lunch or whatever."

Santana nodded.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Brittany had carefully watched Santana; it was too easy. She wasn't sure Santana was as 'fine' as she said she was. Although, she had to admit, it wouldn't surprise her if Santana had bounced back that quickly. The woman last night caught her off guard; had Santana not been caught off guard, she'd have probably kicked the woman's ass. Hell, she DID punch the woman in the throat when it looked like the bitch was going to attack Brittany.

They were sitting at a table, talking quietly about nothing much, when Petrina entered the restaurant and looked around then walked over to their table. They had already finished their meal and were enjoying a second cup of coffee and they invited her to join them.

"Santana, how are you feeling?" She asked once the waitress had walked away.

"Better than last night. I'm more pissed off than anything."

"I am so sorry …" she started but Santana cut her off.

"Don't apologize, Petrina."

"But …"

Santana shook her head. "Brittany and I actually had a long talk about that early this morning after I had a bit of a freak out. You didn't do anything. None of this was your fault. There is nothing for you to apologize for. I blamed myself, Britt was blaming herself, you're blaming yourself. The only one we don't seem to be blaming is the bitch that thought it was okay to touch me."

"I am one of the organizers. My job is to keep people safe."

Santana nodded. "You did your job. Security was there in moments if my memory is correct. You can't keep an eye on everyone all the time. The fault lies squarely on the shoulders of that woman."

"Thank you." Petrina smiled. "I actually came to find you to see if you wanted me to find a replacement for tonight and tomorrow and to discuss the incident."

Santana shook her head. "No. I can perform. I really am doing okay. I know it's not going to be as easy as that but, right now, I'm not scared, I'm pissed."

Petrina nodded. "Alright. Then we'll keep you on the schedule." She sighed heavily. "News of the attack has already spread throughout the festival. People are feeling uneasy so the magistrate is considering making an example of the woman. The two of you need to make statements to the police. The magistrate has discretion; deportation or prosecution. Likely, she will be prosecuted and, after serving the majority of her sentence, will then be deported."

"I want to see her."

"San …" Brittany looked at her.

"No. I mean it. Look, I believe that I'm not at fault, that I didn't do anything wrong but … I need to KNOW it. I need to see her. I need to find out why, if she'll tell me. I need … I need her to not be this giant bogeyman in my head. She's amorphous and just … huge. I need her to be human."

Brittany sighed. She didn't like it but, if this is what Santana needed to move on, she would support her.

"Can you even make that happen, Petrina?" Brittany asked.

"I will talk to the magistrate. Perhaps you can see her when you go to the police station to make your statements." Petrina stepped away from the table to make the call.

"Britt … I want you to go with me." Santana looked at her. "Mostly because I know I need your support but, also, just in case she only speaks … I think it was German. She kept saying something about diese blonde schlampe?"

"German. That blonde bitch."

Santana growled, causing Brittany to chuckle.

"She is so lucky I don't speak German."

Petrina came back to the table. "It is all arranged. When you go to make your statements, you'll be allowed to speak with her briefly."

"Thank you."

They spoke for a few more minutes before Petrina excused herself.

"You're sure about this?" Brittany asked.

"Positive. Right now, she's living rent free in my head. I need to be able to clearly see her in the light of day so I can evict her."

Brittany smiled slightly. "Okay. Then I guess we should go."

They signed for the bill and headed out to the police station.

Xoxoxoxoxo

"Just give me a few ... I'm sure you'll know when to come in."

Brittany nodded.

They had given their statements and actually talked to the magistrate. He was uneasy about letting them talk to the prisoner but agreed as long as there was a constable and the woman's lawyer was there. Santana didn't care who was in the room; she wasn't looking to force a confession or go all Lima Heights or anything, she just needed some sort of closure, to know for sure that she hadn't done anything to encourage this woman.

Santana walked into the interview room and almost burst out laughing; the woman of her nightmares, the amorphous she-hulk, was a slightly plump woman with light brown hair in a shag cut and light brown eyes behind thick glasses that made her look almost owlish. She was probably only an inch or two taller than Santana and was probably in her mid to late thirties. There were several scratches on her face, one of her lenses was cracked, and she had a dark purple bruise on the right side of her throat and jaw. Brittany had been right; Santana had fought hard. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, just looking at the woman and knew she hadn't ever seen the woman before last night; there was no way she had led this woman on. She actually had no idea what to even say to this woman. Then the woman made yet another mistake; she opened her mouth.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away from me after last night," her tone was heavily accented and dripped arrogance.

Santana did laugh then.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. I don't even know your name and, honestly, I don't want to. Britt can turn me on with one look better than that fumbling-groping-sloppy-I'm-a-fifteen-year-old-boy-in-the-back-seat-of-my-daddy's-car bullshit you pulled last night. You look like you're old enough to be my mother … like I'd leave Britt for someone who obviously can't get laid unless she assaults someone or they're too drunk to know any better or they're just horny and desperate enough to settle for you. I seriously pity any woman you've ever been with because, if last night is any indication, you have zero skills. I mean, any woman who's been with you probably did a quick walk of shame in the early morning hours before you even woke up or did a 'wham, bam, no-thank-you ma'am' escape right after your fumbling-groping excuse for seduction. And I seriously doubt any of them left you her phone number or asked for yours. They probably didn't even leave a thank you note. Please. I'm here for my own edification; I just wanted to know what kind of woman does that bullshit to another woman. Now I know; one who has never had a relationship and has no clue how to actually be with a woman."

The woman scowled at Santana. "Well, you are here and that blonde bitch you waste your time with isn't so what am I meant to think?" She asked smugly.

Right on cue, Brittany walked in and slipped an arm around Santana's waist.

"Everything okay?" She kissed the top of Santana's head.

"Everything is fine, Britt. The ham-handed wonder thought I was here because I enjoyed myself last night." Santana rolled her eyes. "Take a good look, she-hulk. This woman is the love of my life and I make that pretty clear every time I perform. She's the penthouse and you? You're your parents' basement." She shook her head. "I am so done here, Britt."

With that, Santana looked at Brittany and the two of them strode out of the interview room ignoring the obscenities and insults the woman yelled after them.

"That felt pretty good."

Brittany grinned. "You unleashed Snixx pretty hard in there."

"Oh, please, she totally deserved it. You were watching through the mirror, right?"

Brittany nodded. "I'm not saying you were wrong."

Santana deflated a little. "I do feel better in some ways but, sometimes, unleashing Snixx is a little tiring.

"I know, honey." Brittany drew Santana closer as they walked out of the station.

They had only gone about ten steps when Brittany suddenly pushed Santana behind her.

"Just leave us alone!" Britt yelled at five women who were walking toward them. Santana had no idea what she said but she sounded pretty angry.

"Britt?"

"Please," one of the women said in English, "we would like to talk to the two of you." Her voice was soft and had a slight accent. "We do not want to cause you any harm or trouble, we just wish to speak with you."

Brittany didn't take her eyes off the women as she muttered to Santana. "Two of those women are her friends from last night."

Santana thought about that for a moment. She looked at the women who were standing a good distance away; they weren't threatening her or Britt, they were simply standing there waiting for a decision.