Written: June 23, 2011
Rating: A very, very soft R.
Spoilers/Timeline: Through Season 2. Takes place during 2x22 - New York.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I make any profit from writing about them.
Note: I blatantly used a line from The L Word here, but you'll understand why when you see it. I don't own that line; all credits go to the writers from The L Word.
Summary: Santana likes to think she's the reason Brittany is so cleverly sneaky, and really, she is. (A lost scene from the season finale of season two)
The room is stuffy and cramped with so many people crammed into it, but they've decided that the only way they're going to get their original song written is to come together as a group and stay that way until they succeed. With so many sights and sounds to discover in New York City, they want to get the hard work over with so that they can explore and have fun. With that goal in mind, they all cram into the boys room after breakfast down in the hotel restaurant, ready to take on the challenge.
Rachel starts spitting out ideas that make Santana roll her eyes; first dates and holding hands and sugary sweet boringness. When Rachel loses the interest of the group, she tries to win them over in a last ditch effort by mentioning that she's come up with a new and improved version of "My Headband" that's sure to blow their socks off.
While no one else seems to care, Santana's interest is piqued; not because she actually wants to sing that lame ass song but rather because Brittany hasn't been able to stop humming it for months now. Making sure that no one else is watching her - and they're not, they're too busy having their own conversations now - Santana feigns like she's stretching her neck and looks across the room to where Brittany is sitting. Instead of seeing Brittany hard at work scribbling away in her pink and yellow notebook, Brittany is staring at her with the tiniest of smiles playing at the corners of her lips.
Santana smiles back and uses her eyes to indicate everyone else in the room, then rolls them a little bit. She knows that Brittany understands what she means; Brittany always seems to get her.
But rather than getting back to work, Brittany holds her gaze a while longer, making Santana just a bit self-conscious. She takes a quick glance around the room to make sure that no one has noticed their interaction and then looks back to Brittany, furrowing her brow a little bit in confusion. Brittany wriggles her eyebrows a bit in response and then glances over to the door before looking back at Santana.
Santana glances over at the door too before looking back at Brittany, whose smile has grown even more mischievous in those two seconds. It takes Santana a moment to put the pieces together but she's finally got it figured out and . . . yep, Brittany wants to sneak out of the room with her.
And if Santana knows anything, she knows it's not to go and explore the city.
Impressed with Brittany's impromptu idea, Santana gives her an almost unnoticeable nod, then begins looking around the room to plan an escape route. No one seems to have noticed their silent interaction but she has a feeling that they'll notice the two of them stand up and sneak out. Maybe if they crawl . . .
While Santana looks for their easiest route across the carpeted and overcrowded floor space, Brittany apparently has a different idea. Santana looks up to find Brittany discretely tucking her notebook underneath one of the queen-sized beds. When it's completely out of view, Brittany holds up her arm to get Mr. Schuester's attention.
"Mr. Schue, I left my lyric notebook down at the restaurant," she states evenly.
Everyone looks over at her, including Mr. Schue.
"That's okay, Brittany. You can run down and get it on our lunch break. In the meanwhile, you can use my notebook."
He tosses a dark blue spiral bound notebook which lands directly in front of her on the bed. Brittany looks down at it, then over to Santana who just feels irritated that Mr. Schue put a wrench in their plans.
"But my notebook has important things in it," Brittany tries, looking back at Mr. Schue.
He seems to contemplate it for a moment before saying, "Brittany, I've already told you that My Cup is a great song but I don't really think it's appropriate for Nationals."
"But that's not what's in there," Brittany says, shaking her head. "Remember when I interviewed you for The Muckraker?" When Mr. Schue's eyes widen, Brittany continues. "I have your interview in there, along with all of your contact information."
"Brittany, why would you have my contact information?" he asks, flabbergasted, and Brittany just shrugs in response.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Santana watches in amusement as Mr. Schue opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to come up with a coherent response. He settles for clearing his throat and looking over at her with a pleading look on his face.
"Santana, go with her and make sure she finds it, please."
Santana puts on a fake smile and stands up, smoothing down her dress with her fingertips.
"No problem, Mr. Schue. Come on, Britts."
Brittany stands up as well and leads the way to the door, Santana following close behind her. Santana holds her breath, waiting for someone to call them out on their little stunt or for Mr. Schue to change his mind but they make it out of the room without anyone stopping them. Once they're in the hall, Brittany grabs her hand and they run down the hall until they reach the girls room, laughing the whole time. Santana uses her key card to open the door and they practically spill into the room, still laughing as they cling tightly to one another.
When the silence of the room washes over them and they realize that they're alone together for the first time in ages, they slowly stop laughing and pull back enough until they're able to look into one another's eyes. They smile softly and Brittany glides her fingertips slowly down Santana's arms until their fingers are laced together.
"Hi," Brittany says quietly, shyly.
"Hey," Santana replies, giving Brittany's hands a gentle squeeze. "That was . . . a nice surprise. I'd like to think that I had a large part in your overall corruption."
Brittany bites nervously on her lower lip before replying, "I just wanted to spend some time with you. Just you. We haven't done that in a while."
"I know," Santana says with a nod, her voice quiet. "I'm sorry that things got so weird."
She lowers her head and looks down, only to feel one of Brittany's hands disentangle from hers. A moment later she feels warm fingertips under her chin, tilting it up so that she's looking into Brittany's eyes again.
"Don't apologize. I don't want us to be sorry forever. I just want us to be like we were: happy together, doing whatever we want, whenever we want. There doesn't have to be a label on that, so long as we have at least that."
Santana smiles softly at that and leans in, brushing her lips softly over Brittany's. God she's missed this. She doesn't even care if that makes her some kind of whipped sucker like Finn is for Rachel. She's badass enough to make up for that, and besides, Brittany is totally hot. That's gotta earn her back some kind of cred.
Their kiss slowly grows needier, Santana pressing Brittany against the door as Brittany's hands roam up and down Santana's back, keeping her pulled close.
"Santana?" Brittany whispers between kisses.
"Yeah?" Santana replies, trailing kisses over Brittany's jaw and down her neck.
Brittany groans softly and tilts her head back, giving Santana more room to kiss.
"Talk to me in Spanish," she requests softly.
That makes Santana instantly smile against Brittany's skin. She kisses her way back up to Brittany's mouth and plants a soft kiss right on Brittany's lips before pulling back to look at her face.
"But you don't understand me when I speak Spanish."
Brittany tries to hide her shy smile.
"I don't care. It's sexy. Besides," she shrugs a little, "sometimes I don't understand when you speak English either."
Santana laughs gently before leaning in, her lips brushing against Brittany's ear as she whispers, "Quiero lamerte hasta que te vengas en mi boca mil veces."
"What does that mean?" Brittany asks, her desire apparent in the breathy way she speaks.
Santana grins and replies, "I want to lick you until you come in my mouth a thousand times." She then yelps when she feels Brittany pinch her side and pulls back to look at Brittany's face in mock shock. "What was that for?"
"For stealing your Spanish from The L Word! I'm starting to think that I know more Spanish than you do, and that's really saying something, Santana."
Santana opens her mouth to reply but suddenly finds Brittany's hand covering her lips, muffling her words. She raises her eyebrow in question but then hears the toilet flush from behind the closed bathroom door. Everyone was back in the other room, weren't they? She goes through the images in her mind from when she scanned the room and . . . dammit. No Quinn. She'd disappeared after breakfast.
Brittany slowly pulls her hand away from Santana's mouth and Santana gives her an apologetic look; they're going to have to put their sweet lady kisses on hold.
Without another word, Brittany leans in and gives Santana a heartstoppingly tender kiss that makes Santana's heart skip a beat. The kiss says more than words ever could. It's a silent promise; an assurance that everything will be okay. That whatever happens, they'll work it out. They're both on the same page now.
No more mixed signals. No more jealously.
Just the two of them, together.
Oh, and lots and lots of sex.
Just not right now. Dammit!
Sighing, Santana bangs on the bathroom door.
"Quinn! Quit hogging the bathroom. I needs to re-pencil my eyebrows on."
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