A/N: Trigger warnings for racial slurs

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Chapter 54

Brittany POV

It was the Wednesday after her birthday and Brittany was working alone at the photography studio until Keith got back from an appointment. She was working on a photo edit when the bell above the door jangled, alerting her to a customer.

"I'll be right with you," she told the person as she finished up the picture she was editing and saved it.

She turned from the computer to face the newcomer and her bright, customer smile fell and was replaced by a scowl.

"What are you doing here?" She ground out.

"Can't a mother come see her only child?" Susan Pierce wasn't quite as tall as her daughter, her hair was brassy, her eyes an ice cold blue. "You don't call, you don't come home, you don't answer when I call. I haven't seen you since August. It was your birthday a couple of days ago so I thought I'd come in person." Her tone was almost sickly sweet and Brittany saw right through it. Even if her friends hadn't given her a heads up, she'd have seen how fake the smile and tone were. Susan wasn't a genuine person so her efforts to be genuine failed spectacularly.

"I'm surprised you remembered." Brittany muttered.

"Of course I remembered! You're my only child." Another fake smile.

"What do you want, Susan?"

"Now, is that anyway to talk to your mother?"

"Yes. What. Do. You. Want?"

"Well, I tried to find you at your home but that boy with the big lips said you weren't there, that you were probably at your," Susan almost choked out the next word, "girlfriend's house and gave me the address. They also let me know where you were, ahem, working." She smiled sweetly. "When no one answered the door at that apartment, I came here."

"That doesn't answer the question." Brittany made a mental note to tell Sam and Puck to stop telling people where she worked and where Santana lived.

"I told you, I just wanted to see my baby girl."

Brittany just glared at her and waited.

Susan sighed dramatically. "Well, I'd heard you and that girl were having problems and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, I know how it feels when the person you're involved with is suddenly not as involved as you are. I think your father is cheating on me," Susan faked a sad smile and sniffed a little to sell the story that Brittany knew better than to buy.

"Santana and I are fine. Thanks for stopping by." Brittany turned back to the computer and pulled up another print that needed editing.

The door jangled again and Brittany sighed in relief, thinking Susan had left.

"Hey, Britt! Class let out early so … oh, sorry, didn't know you were with a customer. I'll wait over here." Brittany's head snapped up at the sound of Santana's voice. No, no, no.

Susan was staring hard at Santana. Brittany could see the hatred in her gaze. Could almost feel the animosity rolling off Susan.

"This isn't a customer and she was just leaving." Brittany bit the sentence out.

Santana turned her gaze away from the magazine she'd started perusing at the uncharacteristically harsh tone and caught Brittany's eye. Brittany saw the minute Santana figured out something was wrong.

"Now, Brittany, introduce me to your little friend." Again with the sickly sweet tone and fake smile. Brittany was just about fed up.

"No."

"Brittany Susan Pierce! That is enough! I am your mother and you will show me the proper respect!" Susan finally dropped all pretense of civility.

Santana had quietly moved toward the counter, blocking the only way Susan could reach Brittany. Brittany smiled inwardly at her girlfriend's protective stance.

"Remind me to change my middle name, please?" She directed the request toward Santana and watched as Santana stifled a giggle. "As for you," she turned her attention back to Susan, "I am giving you the amount of respect you've earned from me. Which is exactly none. I don't care if dad is cheating on you. Just like you don't care if Santana and I are having problems. You've never come to see me at school. You didn't even come when I moved in freshman or sophomore year. You've shown absolutely no interest in me for twenty years and I'm supposed to believe you're interested now?" Brittany scoffed. "No. You can leave. Get the hint that I haven't answered your calls or called you because I don't want to talk to you. Ever. And since I don't consider that my home anymore, don't expect me to show up there … ever." Brittany felt good after letting that out. She knew Santana was watching her, making sure she was okay. Santana was there. Santana had her back and she had nothing to worry about or fear from this person.

Susan glowered at the two girls. "We'll see about that. You think this little job will pay your rent when you're cut off?" She gave Santana a once over. "You think this little beaner …"

"Enough! GET OUT!" Brittany roared at the woman, her blood boiling and the rage rising. She pushed by Santana and was about to shove her mother when Santana caught her by the waist and pulled her back. "Let me go," she bit out, struggling in Santana's grasp.

"Cameras, Britt. This is what she wants. If you hit her, you're in trouble, not her." Santana whispered quietly in Brittany's ear, calming the blonde immediately.

She stopped struggling against Santana and slipped back behind the counter. "Leave. This is the last time I'm asking."

"Did I hit a nerve, dear? You have a soft spot for the little border bunny, do you?" Susan smirked, clearly enjoying Brittany's anger.

Brittany growled and picked up the phone and left a message for her boss. "Keith, there's a problem at the shop. I'm calling the police after I hang up with you."

She hung up and dialed again. "This is Brittany Pierce at the Making Memories Photography Studio at 302 Main, we have a trespasser who refuses to leave. She's not here for business and she's causing a disturbance. I have asked her to leave several times. Thank you."

She took several deep breaths and calmed herself down. Santana was here. They were only words. She schooled her features into a blank mask. "The police will be here shortly. I suggest you leave before that happens."

Susan scowled at her daughter. "You can't avoid me forever. We will have the conversation I want to have sooner or later."

"No, Susan, you won't," Santana spoke up.

"It's Mrs. Pierce to you." Susan interrupted.

Santana laughed at that. "Calling you Mrs. Pierce would grant you a level of respect that I don't have for you. Be glad I called you Susan. As for Brittany? You won't get anywhere near her. She'll be filing a restraining order first thing tomorrow. So will I. Come anywhere near her house, my apartment, or her place of employment and I will personally make sure you're arrested and prosecuted.

"You are nobody in her life and you never will be. Crawl back home and grovel to David. Or your parents. Or your friends … wait," Santana appeared to think for a moment, "you don't actually have any of those, do you? No, you don't. It's obvious because the stunt you pulled at the Fine Arts Building proved that you don't know how friendship works. You are a self-important, lazy, narcissist; a piss-poor excuse for a human being and an even worse mother.

"You should really question your whole existence because, basically, you became useless and obsolete the minute Brittany was born. I do have to thank you for being her incubator for nine months, though. Essentially, that's what your life boils down to; you were the incubator for one of the most amazing people to ever be born. You have no other purpose and, honestly, I could kill you right now, bury your body, and nobody would even look for you … let alone miss you. Your parents? … eh, maybe. From what I've heard though, it would take quite awhile for them to miss you. I'm sure I could convince David that you just ran off with someone and Brittany would help me bury your body." Santana's gaze was cold and she shrugged as her vitriolic diatribe wound down. "There are acres and acres and acres of woodland surrounding the University. I'm betting no one knows where you are which means, even if someone did look for you, they'd start looking in Buffalo. Did you pay cash for everything?" At Susan's shocked look, Santana continued. " That's a yes. Because you didn't want to leave a paper trail. You didn't actually want anyone to know you'd been here. Maybe if you'd actually been a mother to her, they'd think about looking around here but, as it stands, it would never occur to anyone to look somewhere you'd, apparently, never been." Santana crossed her arms and glared at the woman who was gaping at her. Brittany had to admit it was quite the impressive monologue.

"You … you can't talk to me like that!" Susan's face was suffused with rage.

"Just did. Get out." Santana snarled and Brittany could tell that Santana was done playing nice.

She placed a hand on Santana's shoulder. "Cameras."

Santana took a deep breath and nodded.

The two girls stood there in a stand-off with the older woman, who didn't appear to be backing down at all. The bell jangled for a third time and Keith walked in. He took one look at the scene before him and nodded to himself.

"Ma'am? I'm Keith, owner of Making Memories. Is there a problem here?"

Susan's face was almost gleeful as she turned to face Keith. "I just stopped in to see my daughter and that … that … girl threatened me. And Brittany hasn't been very professional either. Is this how you run your establishment?"

"Your daughter, huh? Well, that's interesting to me." He seemed to be lost in thought, stroking his chin in concentration. "See, I've met Brittany's father – nice guy – and Brittany talks about him quite a bit. Thing is? She's never even mentioned you. Don't even know your name. Didn't know she had a mother, to be honest, but didn't want to ask in case it was a sensitive subject. I see now that it must have been.

"Another interesting thing to me … Brittany is one of the nicest, friendliest people I've ever met. Never had a complaint. Opposite, really. People are always complimenting me on her demeanor. So." He nodded his head as if coming to a conclusion. "Seems to me that if one person is telling me she's not professional but ninety-nine percent of the people are telling me she's awesome … that must mean she's awesome and you're the problem. Since you're the problem, I suggest you leave and don't come back." Keith had delivered his words in his normal, calm, quiet way. No yelling, no shouting.

The door opened and (Brittany swore she was starting to hate the jangling bells that she used to love the sound of) two public safety officers walked in.

Susan growled and started stalking toward the door. "You haven't heard the end of this, Brittany Susan!" She stormed out, trying to slam the self-closing door.

"Everything okay, Keith?"

"Is now, Larry. Woman was causing a bit of a ruckus."

Larry nodded. "You ladies alright?"

"How do we file a restraining order?" Santana glanced at Brittany who was just drained by the encounter.

He looked at her and shook his head. "You should contact a lawyer. It sucks but it's a legal hassle and a lawyer will be able to help you navigate the process."

"Can we file a report or something?"

The officer nodded and took their statements. "Stop by tomorrow and we'll have this typed up and ready for you to sign. Showing that she's been harassing you will help with the restraining order."

"Thank you." She smiled at the officer as the two of them turned and left.

"Santana, why don't you take Brittany home? Looks like she could use a stiff drink and a warm bath."

"I've still got half-an-hour," Brittany's protest was weakly made.

"I've got it, Brittany. Go home, hun. I'll see you Sunday."

"Come on, baby, let's get your stuff and I'll take you home and make you some dinner, okay?"

Brittany nodded and grabbed her backpack, letting Santana lead her out.