10. 20 (sexy) Questions
It's official. You are blushing. Hard. You have been staring at that text message for at least 3 minutes without being able to send anything in reply. Obviously you know it is Santana, and even deep down you are wondering how she got your number, you can't find yourself to care. You are falling fast into a rabbit hole of sexy Latina energy. Damn, you can feel it through your phone. Maybe you are also getting a little ahead of yourself.
You want to give her a witty, sassy answer, maybe flirt a little, but your brain basically shut down on you, and after the amount of time you have spent just staring at your screen, it would be way too obvious that you were trying too hard. So you decide to go with the basic question here.
"How did you get my number?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"Hasan is too easy." - Sexy Vixen
You are not sure you want to know what she exactly did to Hasan to get your number, or with him, so you decide not to ask any further. You go with another basic question.
"How are you doing?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"I don't really like the small talk, you know..." - Sexy Vixen
You almost want to instantly apologise, but you don't get the chance because your screen is lighting up again with a new message.
"I'm fine, though, thank you for asking." - Sexy Vixen
You smile at that, and send her a smiley face as a reply. God damn it, where is your game? This woman disarms you even when she is not in front of you. She makes you feel like a teenager, like a very awkward, very virgin, teenager with raging hormones. Dear Lord, you are starting to feel ashamed of yourself.
Since she isn't replying to your smiley face, but also you are now fully awake, you text her again.
"I want to know you better." - Brittany S. Pierce
"Oh, really?" - Sexy Vixen
She asks and you swear you can see her rising her eyebrow, and that sinful smirk that takes over her lips when she is flirting with you.
"Do you want to play 20 questions? Sexy Vixen style?" - Sexy Vixen
You frown at that, but your curiosity takes the best of you.
"What is that?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"Well, I told you already I'm not a big fan of small talk, so instead of asking stuff like what's your favourite colour, we get to ask the deep things we really want to know..." - Sexy Vixen
You are not sure you understand what she means, because, well, you really want to know what her favourite colour is too. You bet it's red. It suits her. Your phone takes you out of your own mind again.
"Let me start. It will serve as an example. What are you wearing?" - Sexy Vixen
Oh.
Oh.
You are blushing again.
"Uh... just panties and a huge t-shirt... I was about to go to bed..." - Brittany S. Pierce
"Mhmm... Sexy. I like that ;) Your turn, Blondie." - Sexy Vixen
"What are you wearing?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"Wouldn't you want to know ;) But that's not fair, Britt. Rules are rules. Find another question." - Sexy Vixen.
For some stupid reason you are imagining her naked and your mouth is watering. Not only your mouth, if you are completely honest.
"Okay, okay. Cotton or lace panties?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"Tricky. Depends on the situation. For you, lace. Always." - Sexy Vixen
Well, there go your ovaries.
"You wanted to kiss me the other day, didn't you?" - Sexy Vixen
"Yes." - Brittany S. Pierce
"What else did you want to do to me?" - Sexy Vixen
"Hey, it was my turn. Rules are rules, remember?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"Just tell me." - Sexy Vixen
"Oh, wouldn't you want to know ;) Are you wearing a bra?" - Brittany S. Pierce
"No." - Sexy Vixen
"Shame ;)" - Brittany S. Pierce
Slowly you feel your confidence coming back. Two can play this game, and you are enjoying it a little too much. You love this side of her, she seems to be super confident, super sensual, and you are really digging it. Not only is she the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, but a confident woman has always been a soft spot for you. You can't forget the fear in her eyes when you first saw her, though. It kills your mood instantly.
You share a few more texts with her, but she senses your mood change and tones the blunt flirting down a lot. You finally learn that her favourite colour is actually green, and you find out that sexy or fragile aren't the only things she is. She is also hilarious. She has a dark sense of humour that you don't really get sometimes, but when you do, you really enjoy it. She is also really, really intelligent. Like, brilliant. You thought Quinn was one of the smartest people you've ever known, but Santana... Santana is something else.
You don't fully understand how could she let herself get in the situation she is now. Someone as smart as her should have seen it coming. Someone as versed as her should have known that after the first hit, it would never stop. You want to ask her about it. You might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but you know there is something else. You don't ask her, though. You don't want to overstep. You just hope she might tell you one day.
You don't remember what time it was when you fell asleep, but when you wake up the next morning, you feel like dying. You are exhausted, but you have work to do, so you drag your ass out of your bed and drink the biggest mug of coffee you can find in your cupboard.
And you go with your day. You go to your office, you catch up with your work, since your secret trips to the emergency call centre are making you be kind of behind, especially on your paperwork. You read some interesting files. You even visit a little kid who's parents are facing social services for drug possession. Not even an ounce of weed. You know this case will be solved and closed without any consequences, but it is in the same neighbourhood where Santana lived with her husband. You are not sure why you go there, or why you find yourself in front of her house after you leave the kid's one.
The house looks empty. You know Nathaniel Keating has not been arrested, because you asked Puckerman to keep you posted, and he hasn't; but it doesn't seem like he has been in the area either. And there are no signs of Santana either, which means that for now, she is not back with him. You sigh in relief.
When you get home, you decide to order pizza, and simply pig out on your couch for the rest of the evening watching some sappy rom-com or something of the sorts. While you wait for your pizza, you absentmindedly grab your phone. You scroll up and down your screen, doing nothing, really, and before you notice what you are doing, you are calling Santana.
After the third ring you panic, though, and hang up. You don't know if she can pick up, or even if she wants to, but she will most definitely see the missed call, if she hasn't yet. Apparently she did, because two seconds later she is calling you back.
"Hello?" You almost stutter.
"Blondie, to what do I owe this pleasure?" She asks in that husky voice of hers. You haven't heard it in almost a week, and you had almost forgotten how sexy it is.
"Sorry, I must have... I must have butt-dialled you..." You stammer. One thing you should know about yourself, darling, is that you are a horrible, horrible liar. Especially when you are nervous.
"Aha... whatever you say, Britt." She answers, and you know for a fact that she is not buying your cheap lie. But you are grateful that she doesn't comment any further.
Once again, you are saved by your doorbell.
"Sorry, Santana, I gotta go." You answer hurriedly and hang up without giving her the chance to even say goodbye.
You pay your pizza, and watch your stupid movie, but you are not really paying attention to it. All you can think about is Santana. You fish your phone from between the couch cushions and open the text conversation with her. You re-read all the messages you have shared. You stare at your screen for around five minutes. Finally you grow a pair of lady balls and text her.
"I really need to see you again." - Brittany S. Pierce
