9. BACK TO THE PAST

You ended up telling Sam everything. You were planning on keeping it simple, something among the lines of 'I met someone. I like them. I might not see them again', but that plan backfired and soon enough you were spilling every detail about your time with Santana. Even the fact that you kind of possibly have stronger feelings for her than just a crush. Actually you mentioned 'love at first sight' and said something like 'every time she looks at me, I'm a goner'. Pretty sappy shit you said. Sam always was a good listener, he let you speak, he let you pour your heart to him and didn't judge you. He didn't give you any advice either because you kind of melted his brain with information, but he hugged you tightly.

When you got home you felt a little lighter, but you are still very much confused about everything. You did the responsible thing for once and called Noah Puckerman to tell him that everything was under control, Santana was off your hands (unfortunately) and you had the ER document he needed. You both agreed that he would say in his report that the house was empty when they got there, and that you had found Santana wandering around the area the next morning, alone, freezing and beaten up. That would cover all the shit you had pulled. You have done some reckless things during all the years you have been working. Like, being every night at the emergency call room, or feeding hungry kids with hamburgers, or even take care of left behind pets. But something like what you did with Santana? That was a first.

Deep down, you know it will probably be a last too. Something about Santana had driven you in. Something you were a hundred percent sure no one else will have.

The next couple of days are a blur. You went on with your daily routine, but it felt like something was missing. You need to do something. You remember Quinn asking you to call her, so you do, quite uninterested, but you know she won't relent until she has you sitting down in her office.

Surprisingly enough she decides to make room for you today, right after lunch. You kind of grumble your answer into the phone, but you both know you will be there, sharply on time.

With the turmoil of thoughts about Santana back full-force, you try to go on with your day, but the clock seems to be ticking slower than ever. You can't erase the warmth of her eyes, or the feeling of her hands on your skin, or her smell. Summer. You could still smell it on the duvet you had lent her to sleep, and maybe or maybe not you had sniffed it a couple of times and refused to wash it. This woman was driving you crazy, you knew it was reaching the point of obsession, but the way your heart flutters every time you think of her, and the stupid smile that takes over your lips, or even the soft blush that tints your cheeks when you remember her flirting...yeah. You, my friend, are a goner.

Finally, after what felt like two full days instead of a few hours, you are sitting in Quinn's waiting room, dressed with a simple pair of black jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt, and a black hoodie tied around your neck. Your hair is down, freely framing your shoulders, and if the looks of other people is anything to go by, you look hot. You think you can do much better than that though, they should see you all dolled up, or at least wearing some kind of make up.

When the to Quinn's office opens you almost fall down from the chair. You can't believe your eyes. Quinn is walking out none other than Santana herself. You swallow hard as she locks her eyes on you. Her face is recovering it's color, the bruises almost gone. She looks amazing. You want to greet her, but you are frozen, and she doesn't make any move either. She simply looks at you.

Then she winks at you. God damn. It is quick, you think no one else caught on to it, not even Quinn, and she is like a hawk, but you swear you just died and went to heaven.

And then, she is gone. Maybe it was all just a figment of your imagination. But judging the smell of summer she had left behind, you were just so absorbed in your own little Santana world that you missed she left, without saying anything to you.

"Britt, come in." Quinn says and you stand up and walk into her office, taking a seat on a couch she has there. It's way more comfortable than the chairs she has in front of her desk.

You are tempted to ask her about Santana. You really want to know how she's doing, like really want to. But you bite it back, you know Quinn won't have any of your shit and will call it out on you without hesitation. So you decide to keep your mouth shut and look at her.

"Thank you for coming, Brittany." You know she is on full psychiatrist mode when she calls you by your whole name. She only does that here, or when she is pissed at you. "Have you thought about what I asked you last time?"

"About why I think Schrödinger's cat is neither dead nor alive, simply it doesn't exist?" You ask confusedly and she furrows her brows momentarily, before offering you a sweet smile and shaking her head.

"Not the last time you were here, the last time we saw each other."

"Huh?"

"Oh, okay, missy. Don't play dumb with me."

Busted.

You sigh, close your eyes for a second and bite your lower lip.

"Santana? Yes, I think about her all the time." You confess, and she nods.

"Why did you take her to your home?" She is cutting the chase.

"I..." You try to find a suitable answer, but you have none. "I don't know." And it's true, thinking coldly about it, you really don't know.

"Really?" She says, like she doesn't believe you, and you are about to protest at her attitude when she speaks again. "You like her, don't you?"

"Yes." You know there is no point in lying to Quinn, especially not here, when she is in her element.

"How much?"

"I think I could marry her." You answer without thinking, a stupid lopsided smile cutting your face in two. Quinn rolls her eyes.

"You know she is already married. To a man."

"Oh, c'mon, Quinnie. A girl can dream." You huff crossing your arms childishly. "It's not like I'm actually going to elope with her tomorrow and marry her in Vegas or whatever." You add rolling your own eyes. That idea actually didn't sound so bad. "It's not like I'm going to see her ever again anyway." You deflate, letting your gaze fall to the floor. Quinn scratches the back of her neck momentarily.

"What is it about her?"

"I don't know, Quinn. I only know I felt something. I was there when they found her, and she looked so fragile, so..." You trail off. "When she looked at me, it felt like everything clicked in place. Like my heart started beating again. After I left her at the center a few days ago I've been empty, void of any emotion."

"Damn, Britt, you got it bad." Quinn sing-songs, breaking her professional character for just a moment, before getting serious again. "You don't need me to say this, but you know nothing can happen between you two."

"I know, but what if we both want to? She's not my case anymore, I kind of handed her off to you." You say a bit bitterly.

"What makes you think she would want to?"

"She almost kissed me. She would have, if you hadn't interrupted us." You are letting all your frustration fall onto your best friend, you both know it, but she is a pro at ignoring it.

"Maybe she's just...loose."

"What the hell are you insinuating?" You say defensively and she smirks. She's playing you, and you fell right in.

"Nothing. Brittany, all I'm saying is that she might have wanted only to experiment, maybe it was just the heat of the moment. There are a million more plausible reasons as of why she tried to kiss you than being interested in you."

"But she's gay." You state rising your eyebrow.

"I knew you were listening." Quinn rolls her eyes again. "So what? Every lesbian in the world has to be interested in you? That's pretty homophobic, Brittany, and rich coming from you. You are bisexual, and usually interested in any breathing human being."

You blush. Hard. Quinn is right though. Even if you haven't been in a committed relationship for a long time, it doesn't mean you haven't enjoyed yourself. You have enjoyed yourself. Plenty.

"But I felt something, and I know she felt it, too." You whine childishly again. That's when Quinn gives up for today. She's so good that she knows when she's not going to make any more progress.

"Brittany, I want you to think why you are so sure that Santana felt something for you too. Come see me next week and we will discuss it."

With a sigh you nod and get up from the couch, hugging her tightly goodbye.

When you get back home, you feel drained, and even more confused than before. You knew for a fact that Santana had talked to Quinn, too; you saw it with your own two eyes. Maybe Quinn was talking from a place where she knew something that you didn't? Maybe she was letting you down softly, since Santana couldn't do it herself? But you knew Quinn was too professional for that, whatever Santana and her had talked about was something you'd never know.

Still you believe all the flirting Santana had done with you, was filled with more than just lust.

When you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, you hear the sound of your phone, signalling you have a new text message.

"Missed me?" - Unknown.

You frown confused. In any other situation you would have simply ignored it, but maybe it was your tiredness, or just sheer curiosity; this time, you replied.

"Who's this?" - Brittany S. Pierce.

The reply is quick, wicked, and makes you bite your lip deliciously.

"I believe you called me Sexy Vixen." - Unknown.