Santana was in the middle of preparing a spicy grilled corn salad with black beans and queso fresco when Holly bumped her shoulder and motioned to the door. Kurt was waving dramatically, the sign he had come up with after she'd asked him to tell her if Brittany showed up again. She nodded at him and watched as he left the kitchen, wondering which meal Brittany had ordered this time.
"What was that about?" Holly asked.
"Huh?"
"The obnoxious waving."
"Oh," Santana snapped out of her thoughts, "I asked Kurt to give me a heads up if Brittany came back."
"Hmm..." Holly hummed, "is that why you've been distracted since Monday?"
Santana frowned, whisking the dressing Tina had made before adding it to the corn, peppers and beans. "I...guess. I don't know; we just have a lot of history."
Holly, knowing her friend, nodded silently as she watched Santana's brows come together. She looked lost and nervous, so focused on the salad in front of her that she barely acknowledged her surroundings. It wasn't exactly troublesome—focus was necessary for an up-and-comer, especially if she wanted to be praised for the quality of her food—but it was still surprising to see her so subdued. She often sang as she worked, or at least hummed. Sometimes she'd just whistle some old spanish lullabies, but other times she would belt out hits without a care in the world. It was fascinating—and sometimes a bit distracting, but that was beside the point.
A quiet Santana Lopez was a sight to behold.
After Santana finished the salad, she moved to the front of the busy kitchen, setting the plate on the order counter and tapping on a touch-screen to call in one of the waiters. She sighed and turned back around, only to jump when Marley bustled in to take the salad and bustled back out. The swinging doors offered Santana a glimpse of the small corridor that led to the main room. She hesitated before she looked over at Holly who winked at her, a sure sign she would take over.
Sometimes Santana wondered if Holly didn't enjoy these moments when she was a distracted mess. It often meant she took over Santana's station, which was always pretty exciting. With a small chuckle, Santana walked out of the kitchen, biting her lip as she scanned the room full of customers and waiters. She spotted Kurt on the phone near the opposite corner; he seemed anxious and pale, which made Santana frown. Usually people called the restaurant to make reservations or ask about the menu, which wasn't anything worrisome. So she wondered why—
The thought escaped her mind as her eyes landed on the woman who'd stepped back into her life. Brittany looked lovely today, wearing warm colors that made her eyes pop even from a distance. She sat at a more isolated table, her shoulder brushing the wall, eating with her bright yellow hat on, eating quickly, nibbling on meaty bones. When the bones formed a small heap on her plate, she licked her fingers, quite seductively, Santana noted, and wiped them on her napkin.
Then, she held her glass to her lips and tipped it back, rolling the wine in her mouth before she swallowed. Santana smirked thoughtfully, hit by a particularly naughty memory. Brittany had quite the taste for wine, which made her a very adventurous lover once it was paired with her taste for women. Well, one woman, Santana amended. She was sure it was impossible Brittany had tried that with another. It couldn't be, Santana reasoned. Of course not.
She brushed her fingers against the fabric of her uniform, just to feel something, just to ground herself, holding the hem in between her thumb and her index. Staring as she was, she didn't notice Kurt standing awkwardly next to her, cheeks flushed and ears red.
"I need to tell you something."
Santana merely blinked before she took her hat off and shrugged off her white jacket. She had a plain grey cotton t-shirt underneath, but it was much more fitting than her uniform. Kurt looked appalled at her shoving her clothes in his arms, but after a quick glance at the woman his boss had her eyes on, he knew no words would get her back in the kitchen. It seemed her usual focus had lost a bit of its drive recently, which didn't bode well with what he had just learned.
Santana, oblivious to his alarmed expression, pulled at her hair band, making sure the corner of the wall was still hiding her form. She brushed a few locks over her shoulder, made sure no strands were sticking out too wildly, and with a confident smirk, walked towards the woman now busy asking Sunshine for the toasted coconut cake.
The small waitress looked surprised when Santana made her way to Brittany's table, but one look at the chef and she knew this had nothing to do with business. After taking Brittany's plate, she scurried away.
Santana barely glanced at Sunshine as she sat down opposite Brittany, her eyes taking in the beauty in front of her.
"I gather this was tastier than the chilaquiles?" She arched a defying eyebrow.
Brittany chuckled, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. She set it next to her glass and looked back at Santana, lips parted but no sound coming out of them. Santana cleared her throat, lowering her voice.
"Well, I hope you're happy about that little stunt you pulled on Saturday. I was squirming in my car the whole way back."
So Santana did drive back home, Brittany mused. The visual in her head was quite entertaining.
"Don't be so proud of yourself," Santana suddenly spat, not liking the look on her ex-girlfriend's face. She'd been painfully turned on and a cold shower had just pissed her off more. She could've taken matters into her own hands—that's what she'd gotten used to doing anyway—but after the short-lived pleasure of having Brittany's dexterous fingers inside of her again, she knew it would've just frustrated her more.
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Brittany humored her. "Cancel my lunch with Quinn?"
Santana's eyes lingered down to her lips, then to the table as she realized she was letting Brittany play coy and get away with it. "You know what I mean," she muttered.
Brittany shrugged. "Then you know there was nothing I could do about it."
There was a pause before Santana's shoulders slumped and she sighed, eyes darting to the right before Brittany cleared her throat to regain her attention.
"But..." she said, eyes twinkling mischievously, drifting to Santana's breasts, recalling how she cupped them only a few days ago, "I'm sure you found a way around your little problem."
Brittany was leaning back into her seat looking entirely too smug. Santana had to admit she liked it—how could she not enjoy a bold and furiously seductive Brittany? And seductive she was; she looked beyond amazing today. Her smile was crooked and coy, but Santana knew better. Brittany was being cocky, and she loved it.
Deciding to bring the ball back in her court, Santana lowered her voice. A little lie wouldn't hurt.
"I did actually. Take care of my problem, that is."
Brittany arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Nice and...slow," Santana husked.
"I'm glad," Brittany stammered, carrying her glass of wine to her lips and tipping it back.
Santana smirked as she watched Brittany's face flush, fingers tense as she held her glass. "Wanna know how I fucked myself, B?"
Brittany swallowed, images of Santana touching herself turning her brain to mush. Better even, images of her touching Santana, licking up her folds and letting her scent overwhelm her. It had been so long...
"Remember your birthday party?" Santana smiled knowingly. "That little gift I wore for you?"
"Fuck," Brittany breathed out, "you still have—"
"Uh-huh. And you want to know something crazy? No matter how many times I wash it, it still smells like you."
It should have been gross; Brittany should've been disturbed at the thought of Santana's sex toys still smelling like her, but instead, she couldn't stop picturing the woman using them.
"It does?" She gulped.
"Well, you know," Santana smirked. "It's not like I ever used that one on another chick. I knew I'd be picturing you the whole time."
"Yeah? Did you picture me this weekend?" Brittany wanted to know. She was getting hot, and Santana hadn't even been half as explicit as she usually was.
Santana's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She hadn't expected Brittany wanting her to go into details—it wasn't the ideal place, though the table was a bit more secluded this time—but she could still work this to her advantage. Maybe so much that Brittany wouldn't object to being hauled into the storage room for a quickie or five.
"Yeah," she drew out. "You were all over me, your fingers, your mouth, touching me. You were wild. I couldn't stop thinking about—" Santana paused, "—that time in Turks and Caicos, when you went down on me all night."
Brittany nodded at she listened to Santana's sultry voice. "That was a good night."
"Mhm, and morning."
"I know, you couldn't even walk afterwards. I had to carry you to the beach."
Santana smirked. "That was a lie. I just wanted to be in your arms."
Brittany chuckled, eyes locked with Santana's. Neither broke their gaze when Sunshine came over and slid Brittany's dessert in front of her so quickly that she was with another customer in a second.