Fic: The World is a Stage - Part 7/?
Title: The World is a Stage 7/?
Author: agentb81
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 3000
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Use of other personalities is not a reflection of their real lives and is completely fictional.
Summary: Sort of AU/Future fic, the lives of Santana and Brittany in their early twenties.
Spoilers: References to Season 1.
Previous chapters here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Santana was giddy. One, she had consumed a fair amount of alcohol that evening. Two, she was dizzy from all the dancing. Three, she felt her body temperature rising. Three, a flash had just gone off in her face. Four, Brittany kissed her. Brittany kissed her. The room began spin, this was just far too much for the brunette to take. The bar became a blur, she turned, people were crowding her, smothering her, Santana needed air. She stumbled clumsily towards the door, crashing through bodies en route. The Latina felt a hand on her shoulder and turned with a stern warning look, her eyes softened upon seeing a concerned Brittany, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Santana, are you ok?” Santana closed her eyes at the softness of the blonde’s voice.
“Fine, I just, I need some air.” She explained.
“Come on then.” Brittany placed both her hands on Santana’s shoulders and guided her toward the door of the bar. Outside the air was cool and fresh, a stark contrast from the atmosphere in the bar. Santana shivered as a slight breeze caressed her skin. Brittany noticed and hugged her close to her body. The Latina sighed, shook her head and shrugged the blonde off of her.
“What’s the matter?” Brittany asked innocently.
“I can’t, you can’t do that Brit.” Santana said bitterly.
“What? Why?” asked the blonde.
“You kiss me, you hug me and you act like nothing’s wrong.” The Latina said angrily.
“I, I don’t understand. It was just a little kiss, a peck on the lips. Nothing is wrong. Is it?”
“Your lips were on mine Brittany.”
“So what? Friends do that all the time.” She shrugged. Her attitude was frustrating for the brunette who closed her eyes tightly and rubbed her temples, one hand on her hip.
“Not friends who were lovers Brit.” She said with exhausted sigh.
“Oh.” The blonde realised. “I’m sorry, San.” She said, her eyes downcast.
“It’s ok. It’s just . . . I’ve had too much to drink.” Brittany smiled at Santana’s admission.
“Me too.” She giggled.
“I think we should go home.” Santana said.
“When did Santana Lopez get all grown up and sensible?” Brittany smiled bumping shoulders with the brunette.
“Since I live in the public eye.” She laughed.
“Oh right.” The blonde nodded.
“I’m going to grab our purses and we’ll go, k?” Santana said and turned back to the bar, she reached a hand onto the handle of the door.
“K, San?” Brittany said. The brunette turned back for a moment, “We’ll be ok.”
“I know.” Santana smiled weakly and headed back into the bar.
++
“Brit you need to concentrate.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Santana huffed, Brittany was hanging onto the brunette as she tried to manoeuvre up the stair case. “Just how much did you have to drink?”
“Not much. A lot.” Brittany said contradicting herself immediately.
“You had sobered up a little outside the bar. What happened?”
“I found a bottle of tequila in your kitchen when you went to the bathroom.” The blonde giggled.
“Oh geez Brit. I should have hidden that bottle, we all know what happens when you drink that stuff.”
“Uh huh.” The blonde giggled. “Um San?”
“Yes Brittany?” Santana replied with a sigh, still hoisting Brittany up.
“You have an awesome pad.” Brittany beamed. “I’m very, you know, what’s the word, I’m thingy of you. You know. Help me out here Santana.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying Brittany.” Santana said. Having gotten to the top of the stairs, she guided the bumbling blonde down the hall.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m putting you to bed.”
“Oh right.” Brittany pumped her fist into the air.
“I’m putting you to bed in the spare room.” Santana explained. Brittany’s bottom lip jutted out and her brow furrowed. “Brit.” Santana drawled in a warning tone.
“But we haven’t had a sleepover in like, forever.”
“It’s going to have to wait a little longer.” The Latina said, opening the door to the spare room.
“Where’s your room?”
“It’s right across the hall.” Santana said dismissively, trying to keep the blonde on her feet and switch the light on at the same time. “This is the only room made up. The bathroom is just next door.” She managed to get Brittany over to the bed, just as she fell out of the Latina’s grasp. Santana cringed as the blonde hit the mattress head first with a thud. “You ok Brit?”
“Fine.” Came the muffled reply.
“You should really get undressed and into bed.”
“Can’t.”
“Brit, come on.”
“Can’t.” The dancer repeated. Santana raised her eyes to the ceiling and huffed. She was going to have to help her friend with this also.
“Where’s your overnight bag?”
“Car.”
“Seriously Brit?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m going to get you something you can sleep in.”
“K.” Came the monosyllabic response as Santana disappeared.
Moments later the Latina returned, having charged back into the room, she stopped in her tracks and took in the scene. Brittany was now laying on her back, her hair splayed half across the duvet and half over her face, one arm was out of her top, her jeans undone and shoes kicked off. Santana smiled. So many times had she been here before, Brittany had always attempted to undress herself, only giving up fairly quickly when she realised she would be unable to continue.
“Brittany?” Santana sang.
“Mmmm” The blonde made a noise in recognition indicating she wasn’t quite asleep.
“You’re gonna have to help me out here sweetheart.” Santana said softly as she sat down on the bed beside the blonde. She stroked the hair from the dancer’s face and ran her thumb over the soft skin of Brittany’s cheek. The blonde hummed with approval and slowly opened her eyes. “Can you sit up?”
“Need help.” She replied holding out her hand. Santana took a hold and pulled the blonde up gently.
“Hey.” Santana said, gently lifting the blonde’s chin up. “Let’s get this off you.” She said, taking Brittany’s top in her hands and tugging gently. Brittany put her arms up and Santana lifted it lightly over her head. “There, that wasn’t so difficult.” Santana said. She tried so hard not to look at Brittany half naked, clad only in her jeans and bra. The blonde suddenly flung her arms around Santana’s neck, her head resting on the Latina’s shoulder. “Brit, what are you doing?”
“I’m hugging you Santana. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Brit stop.” Santana took Brittany’s arms and removed them from her neck. “I’ve missed you too, but right now you have to concentrate and put on these pj’s.”
“But I want to kiss you.” Brittany said lunging forward and on top of Santana, forcing the Latina back onto the mattress.
“Brittany you’re married.” Santana blurted, she pushed the blonde off her and rolled over and off the bed. Turning to look at her ex girlfriend, her heart broke a little as she saw the hurt and shame in the usually bright blue eyes now turned dark.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Brittany sobbed.
“Shhh, Brittany, it’s ok, you’re ok, you’ve just had a lot to drink.” Santana cooed as she knelt down and smoothed out the blonde’s locks. “Now let me just get you into your pyjama’s and you can go to sleep.” The brunette routinely discarded the rest of Brittany’s clothing, replacing them with the pink pyjama’s she had grabbed from her wardrobe. She had done this so many times before, she was almost robotic in her actions. It was almost as if the last five years hadn’t happened.
“You’ve been so nice Santana, it felt like it used to.”
“Brittany, you need to go sleep, we’ll talk in the morning. Ok?” Santana said sternly.
“Ok.” The blonde shuddered out her last sobs, the stroking of Santana’s hand through her hair made her eyelids grow heavy, she stifled a yawn as her eyes closed and she entered a deep sleep. Santana smiled sadly at the girl she used to be so in love with. Getting up off her knees, she pulled the duvet cover over the dancer and leant over, placing a sweet kiss on Brittany’s forehead. Upon reaching the door, Santana spared one last glance at the sleeping beauty before turning off the light and closed the door behind her.
++
It was another hot sunny morning in Los Angeles, Santana stirred in her oversized bed, the sheets half tossed aside in a fitful sleep full of dreams. She turned to look at the time on the clock on her bed stand, only to find restricted movement. Puzzled, she tried again, ‘yep, definitely stuck’ she thought in her sleepy haze. She felt a warmth through her body, slowly her senses were awakening. Her eyes flew open and immediately she looked down, a familiar blonde head on her chest, a slender arm thrown casually over her midriff. The brunette groaned. She couldn’t take much more of the intimate contact with Brittany without being able to ‘touch’ her. Brittany had always been a tactile person, it was an essential part of her make up. She brushed a hand through Brittany’s hair, stroking it tenderly. She felt the dancer stir under her touch. Ever so gently she extracted herself from Brittany and climbed out of bed, pulling down her tank top that had ridden up slightly. She headed toward her en suite, she reached out a hand to push the door open when the clearing of a throat had the actress almost jumping out of her skin. With her heart racing, she turned quickly, a scowl forming on her face. Upon recognising her intruder, Santana angrily made a beeline for her.
“What the hell Quinn?” she hissed, taking the other blonde by the elbow and guiding her out of her bedroom.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“Nothing. Happened.” Santana stated through gritted teeth.
“Right.” Quinn said, her tone oozing with sarcasm. Santana rolled her eyes in response.
“You,” Santana prodded a finger at her friend, “go put the coffee on, I need to pee, and then I’m going to tell you what happened.”
Sitting at the breakfast bar in Santana’s kitchen, the brunette hugged a hot cup of coffee, sipping it occasionally whilst relaying the details of the previous night to her best friend, whom, to her credit, had managed to stay fairly quiet for the majority of the time.
“So you have no idea when Brittany got into your bed?”
“No. None, whatsoever.” Santana answered honestly.
“Geez San, what the hell is she playing at?” Quinn accused.
“I don’t think she’s playing at anything Quinn, I genuinely think she wants to be friends and well, you know what she’s like after drinking alcohol.”
“I don’t know San. How did you feel when she kissed you and hugged you and practically pounced on you?”
“I felt bad.” The actress answered honestly.
“You felt bad? Santana Lopez felt bad when a girl practically handed herself on a plate to you?” the blonde said disbelievingly.
“It’s Brittany.”
“Yeah, it’s Brittany, so what you have one rule for her and one for everyone else?”
“Yes. I do. I really, really wanted to kiss her back, to hug her and whatever, but I would have been taking advantage of her and as much as she wanted me last night, she would have hated herself this morning if anything had happened, because she’s married and because she’s Brittany and however much of a douche her husband is, she wouldn’t hurt him like that.”
“If there’s one thing about Brittany, she would never cheat.”
“That’s why I couldn’t do it.” Santana said sadly.
“But the point here is, you wanted to.” Quinn stated.
“Yeah, I really, really did.” The brunette sighed. She placed the cup on the surface before her, her elbows rested on the work top and she dropped her head into her hands. “It’s such a mess Quinn.”
“Do you think you can be friends?”
“I think so, if she doesn’t kiss me and stuff.” Santana said, her voice muffled. She lifted her head, “It seemed to be working ok before.”
“I have to say Santana, I’ve been very impressed and proud of your maturity.”
“That’s the word!” A voice from the doorway called. Santana turned and saw a cheery Brittany bounding toward her in the pink short pyjama’s she had picked out for her.
“What word?” Santana said, her voice heavy.
“Proud. I’m proud of you too.” The blonde said, helping herself to a cup of coffee. “Hey Q, how have you been?”
“Hi Brittany, I’m good. Thank you.” Quinn eyed Brittany suspiciously, “How are you so chirpy this morning when Santana is clearly hung over?” The tall blonde shrugged and smiled, plonking herself on the stool next to the brunette.
“Hey Santana. Why did I wake up in your bed?”
“I don’t know Brit.” Santana laughed, “Maybe you got up to go to the bathroom and got lost.”
“Yeah maybe.” Brittany agreed. “Erm, San, I need to talk to you.” The blonde said seriously.
“I have to err,” Quinn clambered off her stool and took her coffee mug to the sink, “you know, I got that thing.” She said scrunching her nose whilst pointing at the doorway. “I should just err . . .” she trailed off as she exited the room.
“I’m sorry for last night. I’m not sorry I kissed you at the bar, I swear that was just a friends thing, you were sad and I wanted to see you smile.” Brittany paused for thought, she looked at Santana who was listening intently, she also looked extremely tired and sleep depraved, Brittany frowned before continuing. “I’m sorry for trying to kiss you in the bedroom. I got confused and I was drunk and it’s not an excuse, I just have to tell you I’m sorry and please don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you Brit, I’ve never hated you.” Santana replied. She took one of Brittany’s hands in her own, feeling the need to have contact with her friend. “It can’t happen. You’re married.”
“I know.” Answered the blonde. “If I wasn’t married, could it?” Brittany asked. Santana was shocked by the question, she had no idea where Brittany was going with this, but she was willing to find out.
“I don’t know.” She answered honestly.
“Ok, if I wasn’t married would you have let me kiss you last night?”
“Yes.” Santana answered without hesitation.
“You would?”
“Yes.”
“I wanted to kiss you.”
“I know babe, you tried.” Santana smiled coyly.
“I love my husband.” Brittany said sadly. Santana sighed.
“Did you ever think we would get back together?” Santana asked.
“I didn’t think you would want to. I thought you would hate me for leaving you, so I tried to live a life without you in it.”
“Is that what you thought? Is that what you wanted?” Santana asked, almost disbelievingly, she could feel tears stinging her eyes, but the stubbornness in her was willing herself not to cry, to hold it together and not show weakness.
“It’s what I thought, it’s not what I wanted, my life sucked without you.” Brittany said, a small smile playing on her lips, her mind flashed back to the moment Glee club had won sectionals and the song they sang to Mr Schuester afterward.
“Five years was a long time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising Brittany.” Santana said flippantly. “I’m going to break it down for you now. I was so in love with you I thought we would spend forever together, just you and me, I was happy, you melted my heart Brittany and then you broke it. I told you I was going to College in New York, I asked you to come with me. You said no. You said you needed to build a life on your own, that you had to prove to yourself that you didn’t need me in your life. I couldn’t understand that Brittany, I honestly couldn’t believe it, even though I told you I understood, I just thought maybe it would be a short term thing and you would be back, but a week turned into a month, a month turned into a year and after say two or three more I realised you weren’t coming back to me. I threw myself into my work, it was all I had, if I wasn’t good enough for you then I’d be the best I could be in my career, hell I’d had great practice in high school. And then here you are, you turn up out of nowhere, married and you try to kiss me and tell me that the time we spent together last night was like how it used to be. But you left me the first time. Why wasn’t I good enough for you Brittany, why did you leave me? Why did you rip my heart out?” Santana sobbed, she couldn’t stop the tears now, they were in full flow, her eyes stung, her heart ached. Brittany jumped off her stool and scooped her up in a hug, rubbing her back and whispering nonsensical words of comfort into the brunette’s ear. She was wracked with sobs, Santana could hand on heart say that she had never before cried like this. It was years of emotional torture and heartache that had built up and now had dramatically erupted like a volcano that had laid dormant for hundreds of years.