Summary: Sometimes, Santana lets her jealousy get the better of her.

Agreeing to go with Brittany to her company's happy hour sounds like a good idea at the time; a night out where someone else is picking up the tab seems like a perfect way to end a busy week. However, what I don't really count on is her popularity with her fellow dance teachers outside of work.

I return from the bathroom to the little corner table we staked out at the bar, only to find Brittany halfway across the bar speaking with yet another coworker. Trying to remember her name from the whirlwind of introductions earlier in the night, my thoughts come to a screeching halt as I observe her resting her hand on Brittany's shoulder as she leans up to tell Brittany something. My girlfriend's hands remain at her side as she nods her head and laughs at whatever the coworker just said.

Catching my eye, Brittany grins at me and brings her hand up in a little wave, and I force myself to relax, draping one arm across the back of her abandoned chair. Returning her smile and wave, I try to ignore the rush of irritation as the woman touches her forearm to get her attention again. The low hum of voices in the bar is quickly replaced with the rush of blood in my ears as my irritation veers quickly into anger, seeing her slide her hand from Brittany's forearm to her shoulder and squeeze once before letting go.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I try to block the woman out, instead concentrating on how beautiful Brittany looks standing next to the white Christmas lights hanging from the top of the bar. Her hair is straightened and pulled back into a high, sleek ponytail, her eyes made even more gorgeous by the dark eye shadow she used to complement the peach colored dress she's wearing.

My teeth clench together in a silent snarl as the woman yet again reaches her hand towards Brittany, this time lightly touching one of her earrings as she apparently pays them some kind of compliment. I watch as Brittany brings her hand up to touch the other one, accepting her compliment with an easy smile. As her hand falls back to her side, it gets stopped mid-motion by the coworker, who grabs it and turns her wrist towards her. I see her point to the small tattoo on the inside of Brittany's wrist, the matching one on my own wrist seeming to burn as she runs her thumb over the ink.

Before I can even think about my actions, I'm striding to Brittany's side and lightly gripping the inside of her elbow as I turn to face the woman, an overly sweet smile plastered on my face. "Excuse us for a moment, won't you?" Without waiting for an answer, I pull Brittany across the threshold, guiding her to the bathroom in the back, and shut the door. Taking another deep breath, I cross my arms across my chest and meet her questioning gaze. "Brittany, what the hell was that?"

Frowning, she glances at the door, then back to me. "You tell me. You're the one who just dragged me into the bathroom."

"That woman you were talking to—"

"Ambrosia?"

"Her name is Ambrosia? What the hell kind of name is Ambrosia?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Brittany's brow furrows with irritation as she answers me. "I don't know, Santana. I didn't ask her how she got her name when she filled out the job application. What does her name have to do with you shutting us in the bathroom?"

"Well, Ambrosia was being a little too touchy-feely. I didn't like the way she was touching you."

"You didn't like the way…" With a sigh, Brittany stops and presses her fingertips against her closed eyes, shaking her head and letting out a breath. "She wasn't doing anything. She was just talking to me."

"Yeah, if by 'talking', you mean copping a feel." Pacing away from Brittany, I feel my anger return at the images replaying in my head, and I briefly consider going back out there to yell at Ambrosia instead.

"Santana, you're being ridiculous."

At that, I stop pacing and turn to face Brittany, my eyebrows rising to my hairline. "I'm being ridiculous?"

"Yes. You're completely overreacting."

"Britt, how am I overreacting? That woman had her hands all over you. All I did was—"

"Interrupt a perfectly innocent conversation—"

"Not on her end."

"Interrupt a perfectly innocent conversation, with a new teacher at the dance studio, I might add. A new teacher who finally filled a spot we've needed to fill for a while now." Brittany's voice is coated with irritation. "You interrupt by grabbing me, pulling me away mid-sentence, and hauling me off into a bathroom like some crazy person staking their claim."

"Staking their claim?" I scoff and stare Brittany down. "Now who's being ridiculous?"

Heaving out an exasperated breath, Brittany holds her hand up, and the sight of her tattoo makes my jaw clench as I remember Ambrosia running her thumb over it. "You know what, San? I'm not having this conversation with you right now." Turning around, she reaches for the doorknob, looking back at me when I put my hand on her waist to stop her. "Let me leave."

"No."

"I don't want to talk with you right now, Santana. Not until you've cooled off."

Slapping my hand against the bathroom door, I reach past Brittany and click the lock into place, then step closer to her body. "Did you really think I could just stand there and watch her run her hand down your arm? That I could see the way she was looking at you and not be upset?"

"Dancers are affectionate people, Santana. You know that." Her voice is softer than before, and I feel a little bit of my anger dissipate even as desire starts to take its place, the nearness of her body causing my heart rate to pick up. "And she wasn't looking at me like anything."

"Yes, she was."

I can almost feel Brittany's eye roll as she sighs heavily and shakes her head. "Fine. How was she looking at me then?"

Pressing my body against her back, I keep one hand braced above her shoulder as I bring the other to the outside of her thigh, letting my mouth brush against her ear as I reply. "She was looking at you the way I look at you." Bending slightly, I slowly slide the hem of her dress up her thigh, letting my fingertips rub against her skin as I keep my lips against the shell of her ear. "Like all she can think about it is how fucking good it would feel to have you naked and spread open, so she could put her mouth here."

At that, I reach under her dress and press my fingers between her legs, letting my lips graze against the side of her neck as she jerks her hips into the touch. Widening my stance, I grind myself against her ass, groaning a bit as Brittany places her palms flat against the door above her head. "Santana, what are you doing?"

Stepping closer to the door, I press Brittany against the dark wood, the back of my hand trapped between her body and the door as I keep my fingers moving slowly against her thong. Dropping my other hand to her thigh, I lift the back of her dress up to her waist and look down, groaning at the sight of her ass pressed against me. "You should see how good you look right now, Brittany. Do you think she's out there right now, wondering why we've been in here so long? Do you think she knows that I'm about to fuck you?"

Brittany's cheek is flush against the door, so her moan is muffled against the inside of her arm. I press a kiss to the shoulder muscles I can feel flexing as she tries to rock her hips. Keeping my fingers still, I scrape my teeth along the back of her neck, grinning as I feel a shudder run through her body.

"Does that turn you on? Knowing that in a few minutes, she's probably going to know what's going on in here?" Sliding my hand from her waist to her ponytail, I pull it back slowly and bring my lips to her ear, letting my fingertips rub against the wetness I can feel soaking the thin piece of material between her legs. "Do you think you can be quiet, Britt? Do you think I can make you come without everyone out there hearing just how much you like riding my fingers?"

Pushing against the door, Brittany forces a little space between our bodies so she can reach down, pull my hand from between her legs, step back, and turn to face me. Leaning back against the door, her chest is rising and falling quickly, and for a few seconds, neither one of us moves, our quickened breathing the only sound in the quiet bathroom.

Thinking that I might have pushed Brittany too far, I step forward, opening my mouth to apologize, only to be stopped by her hand on my chest. Without looking away from me, Brittany reaches under her dress and slides her thong down her legs, bending down to pick it up off the floor before leaning over to tuck it inside my purse. She rests the back of her head against the door and widens her feet, both hands pulling up the bottom of her dress until the fabric rests just below her ribs.

Dropping my gaze from hers, I look down and feel my insides clench at the sight of her naked sex, her arousal apparent even in the muted lighting of the bathroom. Brittany reaches out to grab my wrist, tugging me slowly until I'm pressed flush against her body once more, her mouth barely an inch from mine as she slides my fingers through her wetness. "Let's find out."

With a quiet moan, I tease her opening with just the tips of my fingers. I feel my own desire dampening my panties as I press my thigh against the back of my hand. Gripping her waist tight in my other hand, I press down on her hip, silently encouraging Brittany to take my fingers deeper inside of her. As Brittany sinks down slowly, I swallow her groan with a kiss, opening my mouth to her seeking tongue.

I can taste the grape-flavored vodka on her tongue, and my hand slides up from her waist to palm at her breast over her dress. Sucking on her bottom lip, I pull back to watch her face, her eyes trained on my fingers as they slowly move in and out of her. "You're so sexy like this, fucking yourself against my fingers." Keeping one hand holding her dress up, Brittany brings the other to the back of my neck, holding tight as she starts to rock her hips a little faster. A burst of female laughter outside the door brings her eyes to mine, and I grit my teeth and groan as Brittany clenches against my fingers. Her thigh muscles flex as I start to meet her thrusts. "You like that, Britt? Knowing someone might hear you right now?"

Punctuating my statement with a hard thrust, I knock her hips into the door, and the moan Brittany releases makes my lower belly pulse. Another voice joins the first one outside the bathroom, and I cover her next moan with my mouth, bracing my forearm next to her head as I start to fuck her in earnest. Her wetness is coating my palm, and I'm grateful I wore a dark dress as Brittany spreads her legs even wider and grinds down harder into each thrust of my fingers.

Pulling back from the kiss, I cover her mouth with my hand as one of the ladies knocks on the door and jiggles the locked doorknob. I press Brittany flat against the door so she can't move, my fingers curling and pulsing as I press my palm against her clit. Keeping my eyes on Brittany, I call out through the door to the other side, rocking my hips slowly against her as I feel Brittany moan into my hand. "I'll be out in a minute."

A half-hearted "sorry" comes through the door, and I hear the ladies resume their conversation. Brittany's breath rushes through her nose across my hand as I feel her walls start to get tighter and tighter. Pressing my lips to her ear, I slowly remove my hand from her mouth and reach up to grab her hand at my shoulder. "You're going to have to keep yourself quiet now, baby."

"Don't stop, San. I'm so close." Her husky whisper makes my eyes widen as she fists my hair in her hand.

I bring her own hand up to cover her mouth, then slide my fingers out of Brittany despite her whimpered protests. "Remember, you have to be quiet. Those people are right outside the door."

Dropping to my knees, I waste no time in burying my tongue inside her, looking up as her groan escapes the confines of her hand. I keep my eyes on her as she rolls her hips against my mouth and releases muffled whimpers into her own palm. Groaning softly as the taste of Brittany floods my mouth, I flutter my tongue inside of her, closing my eyes as her wetness increases.

As I move my tongue to lick firmly at her clit, I slide the fingers of one hand inside her once more, while letting the other hand remain pressed against her hip. Brittany's head drops back against the wood as she helplessly lets loose another loud groan.

This time, the knock on the door is louder as the lady calls out again. "Hey, are you almost done? You've been in there for like, 15 minutes."

Biting her lip, Brittany brings her hand to the back of my neck, her other fist tightening against her dress still bunched around her waist. The pulsing around my fingers is getting stronger, and I know Brittany's about to come. Sucking her clit into my mouth, I move my fingers faster and groan as her nails dig into the nape of my neck. Ignoring the burn in my forearm, I twist my fingers and bring her closer and closer to orgasm.

Another knock sounds at the door, and Brittany's else close as we hear Ambrosia's voice. "Brittany? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

"We knocked like, 5 minutes ago. She said she'd be right out, but this is ridiculous."

As they knock and jiggle the doorknob yet again, I press my fingers deep inside Brittany, rubbing her walls and sucking harder on her clit. Her eyes squeeze closed and, as the ladies continue to speak outside, Brittany presses a fist to her mouth and comes hard against my fingers. I replace my fingers with my tongue, lapping at her wetness as her legs tremble with aftershocks.

I feel her dress fall over my face as Brittany brings both hands to the back of my head, then tugs me up, pulling me into a slow kiss. Sliding my hand around her back, I pull Brittany away from the door and smile as she tucks her face against my neck. After a kiss to the side of her head and a gentle squeeze of her waist, I make my way over to the sink to wash my hands and splash some water on my face, meeting her amused smile in the mirror. Grabbing a paper towel, I dry my hands and face and walk over to place a soft kiss against her mouth, holding her hands between us.

"Britt, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you or anything by pulling you away from your conversation before. I just…I didn't like how overly friendly she was being with you, but I probably could've handled it better."

Brittany kisses my cheek, then takes a small step back, brushing down the wrinkles in her dress as best she can. "It's okay, San, though I appreciate the apology. She can be a little…overly friendly sometimes. I'll talk to her about it. She knows I'm dating you, and she needs to respect that."

Reaching for the lock, Brittany turns back to grin at me, crooking her finger to call me forward.

When I reach her, she whispers hotly into my ear, "Although if you're going to do this every time somebody touches my arm, I may have to hold my arms out everywhere I go."