A/N: I actually wrote a paper using a single line from the Cliff's Notes of Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. "The symbolism of the silver ring" sent me searching through the novel and I found what I needed. I know a lot of people say using Cliff's Notes is cheating but, in my opinion, they're a tool just like any other. And, just like any other tool, they can be used improperly.

Got a B+ on that paper, btw.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Brittany POV

Chapter 57

After the police left, Brittany took care of things in the apartment; she put the cleaning supplies away, drained the tub (and rinsed it out), wrung the clothes out as best she could and took them into Santana's bathroom, hanging them to dry and placing a towel under the rack to prevent the floor from getting wet and slippery. She took a quick shower to get the ick off and went back into the bedroom; quickly dressing in clean sweats and a t-shirt and checking on Santana. The compress had gone warm so she gently removed it and took it into the kitchen, putting it back in the freezer and grabbing a fresh one. Once back in the bedroom, she quietly slipped into the bed and tried to carefully replace the compress.

"Britt?"

"Sorry, honey, I was trying not to wake you. Just wanted to give you a fresh compress." Brittany whispered.

"Oh. Okay." She murmured softly.

After she made sure the compress was on properly, Brittany curled up behind Santana and wrapped an arm around Santana's waist. Santana sighed softly and scooted back into the blonde's embrace. Brittany hadn't slept well the night before so it wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

She slept a few hours and, when she woke up, she again changed out Santana's compress before settling in the living room to get some work done on a paper that was due the following week.

Brittany was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the couch; she had a book in one hand, a highlighter in the other, the Cliff's Notes version on one knee, and a notebook balanced on the other. She had been working steadily for just over an hour when the door to the apartment was unlocked and Quinn's voice floated down the hall.

"San? Why does the hallway smell like Pine-sol? Why is there …" she trailed off as she spotted Brittany. Her shoulders slumped. "What happened?"

Brittany sighed. "You might want to get comfortable, grab a drink, and have a seat. It's a bit of a bumpy ride," the taller blonde answered. "Santana's in bed with the worst migraine I've ever seen her have." She added.

Quinn poked her head into Santana's bedroom and nodded. "I'll be right back."

Brittany set aside her work and waited for Quinn to rejoin her.

Ten minutes later, Quinn was back in sweatpants and a hoodie. She handed Brittany one of the hard lemonades they had in the fridge then opened one for herself. "So?"

Brittany told Quinn what had happened the night before and earlier in the day. Including the kiss.

"I just hope she lets me explain. I hope she believes me." Brittany was really scared that, even though Santana had asked for cuddles and let Brittany take care of her, once the Latina was coherent and remembered what she'd seen she'd be too hurt and angry to listen.

Quinn shrugged. "Show her the video."

Brittany looked at her blankly. Video? What … "Oh, my, god! Quinn! You're a genius! The video! I hadn't even …" she scrambled to grab her backpack and rifled through until she found her video camera.

She was a dancer for crying out loud! OF COURSE she'd filmed her rehearsal; she always filmed them. Quinn joined her on the couch and Brittany cued up the video; they watched the dance, Brittany making mental notes on things that needed changing or improving. The dance wasn't sensual at all, there was no reason for Martin to even … damn, she'd forgotten that he'd asked her out during a short break and she, once again, had made it very clear that she was off the market and not interested. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Oooh, nice form," Quinn chuckled, commenting on the slap. "Ouch. Damn." She winced as Martin cupped his crotch and slumped to the floor. The video cut off with a close up of Brittany's hand reaching for the camera.

"I'd say that Santana will believe you. You absolutely didn't invite or encourage that."

"I just hope she gives me a chance to explain."

"Explain what?" Santana appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, looking like she was still half asleep. She shuffled over to the couch and dropped into Brittany's lap, curling into her, and laying her head on Brittany's shoulder. "What are we watching?"

"Proof that Brittany didn't cheat on you." Quinn answered.

Santana frowned. "Of course she didn't." She yawned and snuggled further into her very confused girlfriend. "She wouldn't do that. Susan showing me a picture doesn't make it real. There was something wrong with the picture but I was too out of it to focus on what it was. And, then, you know," she made a retching sound.

"Ew, San," Quinn's nose scrunched in disgust.

Santana shrugged. "Bitch shouldn't have waved the phone in my face."

The door opened and, a moment later, Daniel appeared in the doorway. "Hey, I took that garbage bag down to the dumpster." He smiled at the three women before frowning, "Everything okay?"

"Daniel." Santana said suddenly, looking up at him. "I need you to do something for me." She got up off Brittany's lap and motioned for Britt to stand next to Daniel.

"Daniel, wrap your arms around Britt's waist, Britt, put your hands on Daniel's shoulders like you're going to kiss each other. I mean, don't kiss one another, obviously." Daniel chuckled and shook his head but did as she asked.

"Okay, Britt, can you act like you don't want him to kiss you? Daniel, don't let her get away."

They started out casually; Daniel's arms looped lightly around Brittany's waist, Brittany's arms draped loosely around Daniel's neck. When Santana told them to change, Brittany's arms retracted from around his neck and became stiff, her palms pushing against his shoulders, head turned slightly to the side. Daniel's arms tightened around her waist.

"There. That's what was wrong. You see, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded. "I can't believe you noticed that in the state you were in."

Daniel's face mirrored Brittany's confusion. "What?"

"Let go. Quinn stand up. I'm gonna be Daniel, you be Brittany."

They re-enacted the scene and Daniel and Brittany both nodded.

"Okay, I get it. You can see your muscles and tendons straining from trying to keep her in your arms; her hand placement isn't relaxed and her face is leaning away from you. It's really obvious." Daniel noted.

They all sat back down, Santana in Brittany's lap again, head on Brittany's shoulder.

"Britt's got it all on video, San. If you need proof." Quinn told her.

"I don't need proof." She scoffed. "Three or four months ago, I'd have definitely needed proof. Now? Nah. I know the game Susan is trying to play with us."

"You should watch it anyway." Quinn laughed. "It's pretty entertaining."

Santana smiled and chuckled lightly. "Okay," she acquiesced, "let's see it."

After watching it a second time, Brittany noticed what Santana had seen in the still photo Susan had waved at her; the tension in Martin's arms, the stiffness of her own, and her face angled away from his as he kissed her.

"I'm not jealous, Britt, but I don't want you dancing with him anymore." Santana pulled back to meet Brittany's eyes. "Not because I don't trust you but because I really don't trust him to not escalate and hurt you next time."

Brittany shook her head. "I'm going to email the video to my professor. I stopped by her office this afternoon but she was gone for the day. I'll email her tonight and stop by tomorrow morning before my first class. If I have to, I still have time to drop the class and pick up something else. Then I can re-take this one over the summer or next semester." She shrugged. "I'd already decided that, honey. I don't want to be in that position again. If she won't do anything about it, I'll talk to the head of the department and if he won't do anything, I may call our friend Barbra Kendall and see if she can help."

"Good." Santana nodded and leaned back into the blonde. "What happened after I passed out?"

Brittany quickly filled Daniel in on the events of yesterday then gave them both the details of what happened earlier in the day.

"What was she even doing here?" Daniel wanted to know.

"She was looking for Brittany. Britt …" Santana started hesitantly.

"No, I already plan to talk to Sam and Puck about telling people where you live and where I work. She shouldn't have known to come here in the first place."

"Okay. So, what happens next?" "Now what?" Daniel and Quinn both asked.

"I'm not sure. I guess I should call my dad. I'm sure she's already tried to reach him for bail or whatever. I assume we're going to have to testify against her. They said they were charging her with trespassing, um, failure to comply with a legal order," she paused to think, "resisting arrest, and assaulting an officer. I think. I'm guessing you'll have to testify that you asked her to leave but she didn't. You probably need to make a statement, too." Brittany sighed. "I'm sorry, honey. I just …"

"Hey," Santana gently cupped Brittany's cheek, "none of this is your fault. She made a decision and this is all on her. Okay?"

Brittany nodded. "Okay." She frowned slightly. "Hey, are you hungry? You should eat something so you can take some ibuprofen; it's too early for more of your migraine meds but you should probably take those before bed; your eyes are still murky." Brittany said, caressing the Latina's cheek softly.

"Not really hungry but, yeah, you're probably right."

"I'll make you some toast, San. If that settles okay maybe you can try some soup later. Brittany, why don't you go call your father?" Quinn stood up and went into the kitchen.

"She's a little bossy," Brittany stage-whispered to Santana.

"Heard that!" Quinn called from the kitchen.

The three in the living room laughed as Santana disengaged herself from Brittany and the blonde went into the bedroom to call her father.