A/N: This story takes place in 2024 and will examine Santana's life in the years after Brittany leaves for MIT. Canon-compliant through 4x22. Much of this story will be told in flashbacks. Thank you for reading, enjoy!
August 2024 – New York, New York
"Santana Lopez?" A middle-aged woman called out as she opened the door into the waiting room.
The younger woman looked up from the People she was mindlessly flipping through in the relatively empty room.
"Hi," the older woman said warmly. "You can come on back now."
The younger woman uncrossed her legs and stood from her seat on the padded bench to follow the older woman through the door and down the hall, her heels punctuating her steps.
"I'm Dr. Broffman," the older woman introduced as she opened the door to her office. "Thank you for..." she started, the sound of a phone ringing breaking her train of thought.
"Hey honey," the younger woman answered the call coming from her cell and stepped into the office.
The doctor walked over to the electric kettle she kept in the corner of the office and poured herself some tea. She turned and raised a mug to the younger woman, silently offering her a drink.
"Honey," she said, shaking her head at the doctor's offer. "I can't talk right now."
The doctor set the other mug back on the table in the corner and walked over to her leather armchair.
"I'll be home in about an hour and a half."
The doctor set her mug on the table next to her chair. She smoothed out the back of her knee length skirt before she sat down. She waited, clutching her mug and gently blowing the tea inside it. She looked up at the younger woman still standing next to the couch intended for her to sit on.
"Yes…uh huh…okay…will do…love you too." She ended the call. "Sorry. Wife," she apologized as she side-stepped between the suede couch and the small coffee table in front of it to put down her purse. She placed her cell on the couch beside her as she sat.
The doctor caught a glimpse of the screen that was still illuminated on her client's phone. "Is that her?" She asked, motioning toward the picture on the screen. "May I?" She leaned forward in her seat to get a better look as her client held out the phone. "She's beautiful."
"Thanks," her client smirked as she scooted further back into the couch.
"How long have you been married?" The doctor asked, crossing her legs as she leaned back into her chair and set her tea back on the table beside her.
"Four years next month actually."
"Oh! Well, happy early anniversary to you two," she said genuinely. "How did you meet?"
"At cheer camp," she chuckled, "if you can believe it."
Summer 2008 – Unincorporated Allen County, Ohio
"Okay!" the peppy elder blonde said as she clapped her hands together. "I want you girls to go around the circle, tell us your name, where you're from, and um, a fun fact about yourself! I'll go first: I'm Misty," she said placing her hands on her chest. "your Captain, I grew up in Cincinnati before my dad's job transferred to Lima, and my boyfriend Matthew and I both got full rides to Ohio State next year!" The fourteen-year-old girls seated on the ground around her all clapped. "I know, I know! Thanks, girls! Okay, um you, with the neck brace, go!"
"Um, I'm Buffy," she said, shifting her entire torso to turn and wave at the other girls in the group. "I'm from Lima. And this brace is totally temporary. My doctor says I'll be on the top of pyramids again before I know it!"
"Yes totally," the captain nodded unconvincingly. "Abso-lutely! How about you," she said pointing to the girl with Down Syndrome. "What's your name sweetheart?"
"It's Becky, bitch."
"Uh, I'll go next, I guess," the black teen offered. "I'm Ashley, I'm from Lima, too, and my little sister Bree is the favorite and everyone knows it."
"I'm Santana Lopez. I'm from Lima Heights," the young Latina said. "My dad's a surgeon and I'm pretty sure I'm getting a boob job for my sweet sixteen in a couple years."
"Coach Sylvester has a super strict no plastics policy, girls," Misty warned. "So, I'd ask for a car or something instead if I were you."
"Hi, my name is Brittany S. Pierce," the blue-eyed blonde said. "I'm also from Lima. My cat smokes cigarettes."
"Um, I'm Quinn, hi. My first name is Lucy actually," the third blonde in the group rambled. "But my middle name is Quinn, so I go by Quinn. I'm from Shawnee Township, and I can't wait to be able to wave your pompoms one day, Misty!"
"Wanky, just wan..."
"Awesome, girls! Awesome! So Awesome!" the captain interrupted, clapping her hands. "Let's break here for lunch shakes, then we'll come back together to talk about high school and boys." She stood up from the circle and brushed the grass off the back of her skirt. "If you remember nothing else from this camp, remember this: It's all about the teasing, and not about the pleasing. Okay?"
The younger girls looked at each other and nodded.
"Awesome!" Misty said as the girls got up and started to walk off. "Oh, before you break off, these are your battle buddy assignments: Neckbrace, you're with Ashley. Becky, you're with Santana. And Quinn, you're with Brittany. I want you girls attached at the hip, no exceptions!"
August 2024
"That sounds like quite the introduction," the doctor chuckled.
"Yes, yes it was."
"That was, what, fifteen, sixteen years ago?" the doctor asked. Her client nodded. "Impressive memory!"
"Somethings you just don't forget."
Summer 2008
Quinn stood leaning over the sink in one of the camp's tiny two-stall bathrooms, scrubbing the dirt from pyramid practice off her hands when the girl from Lima Heights burst into the bathroom and rushed past her into one of the stalls, nearly taking the door off its hinges.
"Is that the lunch shake or the dinner shake?" She called out over her shoulder.
"Gross. Neither. I just need a break from my frickin 'battle buddy.'" Quinn could hear the scare quotes in the girl's voice from the other side of the stall. "This was the only place I could think of where she hopefully wouldn't follow me." The girl raised her voice to compete with her toilet flushing, "It's only been 24 hours, and I already can't stand her! The girl is a full bitch." She adjusted her top as she stepped out of the stall to join the blonde at the sinks.
"Becky's not that bad, Santana," she shook her head laughing. "She's sweet! I used to go over to her house and help her with schoolwork and makeup and fun things like that in 6th and 7th grade, but not as much last year though, but whatever," she turned off the faucet, walked to the paper towel dispenser and continued, "I bet she's nothing like my battle buddy. Brittany's…something."
"Yeah," the other girl conceded, turning off the faucet and shaking her hands into the sink. "That stuff about her cat was pretty weird, but she seems kinda nice though, right?"
"She makes my head hurt, but I guess so," Quinn admitted, handing the other girl a paper towel before going back to the mirror to fix her ponytail. "Maybe we should swap? Is that allowed?"
"Who cares? Misty's too busy freaking out over who's in her boyfriend's Top 8 to notice, and we haven't even met Coach Sylvester yet."
"I don't know, Santana," she hesitated. "We don't wanna get in trouble before we even get our uniforms."
"Look," she said, tossing the paper towel behind Quinn's back and into the trash. "I saw the look on your face when Misty gave you that bottom bunk." She looked at the blonde through the mirror as she folded her arms. "How about you just take mine? It's the top one in the back corner and no doubt the best spot in the cabin. Besides," she shrugged her shoulders and turned to rest her hip against the sink to face the other girl, "Becky's safety depends on it."
"I do hate being on the bottom," Quinn said more to herself than to Santana. She pulled her gaze away from her own reflection in the mirror and pivoted toward the other girl. "Deal."
August 2024
"I…honestly wasn't expecting that," the doctor said, her thick black hair swinging as she shook her head.
"Me neither!"
They both chuckled politely before settling into a comfortable silence.
"Tell me about yourself, Santana." She lifted her tea from the table and took a sip.
"Don't you already know everything about me? I mean, that intake form I filled out was pretty…extensive."
"Yes, but I want to hear about you from you," she said, placing her tea back on the table and leaning forward in her chair. "I've found that we can learn a lot more about a person in their own words than we can from responses to pages and pages of 'yes' or 'no' questions."
"Okay," the client conceded. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Wherever you're comfortable." She leaned back into her chair.
"Um," Santana lifted her eyes to the ceiling and shrugged. "I'm gonna need a little more direction, doc."
"Okay, let's start with an easy one. What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a lawyer."
"Have you always wanted to be a lawyer?"
"Not exactly, no. I, um, used to sing, quite a bit actually, and I wanted to try to pursue music, but I ended up going in a different direction."
"What happened to change your direction?"
"It's a long story and uh," she glanced at her watch. "We don't have time to get into it."
Dr. Broffman pursed her lips and nodded.
"But, um," Santana continued. "I've been a lawyer for about five years now and honestly? I love what I do."
The doctor smiled her genuine smile, pleased to hear a positive emotion from her client. "What do you love about it?"
"I don't know, I just love that I get to help people make choices. Someone will come to me with a problem and I'm able to say to them: these are your options, here's what would happen if you did A, here's what would happen if you did B. I can lay out the scenarios in ways they haven't considered, you know? It feels good to know that I've studied and prepared for any issue that a client may bring me and that there is in fact a right and wrong answer for a certain scenario, and if I don't know it right away, I do know where to look for the answers. Legal questions have correct answers. Personal questions, not so much, you know?"
"Hmm. You're saying there's an assurance, a confidence, a certainty you have in your profession. A certainty you don't think you have personally. Am I correct?"
"I know I don't have it personally."
"Tell me more?"
Santana laughed. "I don't think we have time for that either."
"Noted," the doctor chuckled. "If you were looking over the choices you've made in your life, your personal A's or B's if you will, all scenarios and paths considered, are you happy?"
Santana looked down at her lap where her hands were clasped. She untangled her fingers and started playing with her wedding band.
"I am," she nodded, looking back up at the doctor. "I mean, I, I should be, right? I have a job I love, a wife who loves me, kids who adore me, what's there to not be happy about, you know?"
Dr. Broffman studied her client and nodded, "Okay."
The ticking of a clock was the only sound they heard as a silence fell over the office.
"Well, unfortunately," the doctor said glancing at the clock on the wall above her client's head. "Our hour is up for this session, but I would be remiss if I didn't ask you this question before you left here today."
The younger woman turned her head toward the doctor with her brows furrowed in curiosity.
The doctor slid to the edge of her chair and paused for maybe a beat too long. "Why are you here?"
Santana opened her mouth, but the doctor stopped her before she could speak.
"Don't answer just yet. Just…think about it. See you next Wednesday?"