Chapter 3
Chapter 3
xoxoxoxoxo
That night
When she got home she texted Brittany to see if she was free to talk on the phone. Brittany responded by calling.
They talked for two hours and, before they hung up, they settled on meeting at Troubadour's at eleven the next morning.
Xoxoxoxoxo
The next day
Santana was at Troubadour's at 10:50am on a Sunday morning. She'd woken up at 9 (When the hell is the last time I did that? She wondered. Oh, yeah, yesterday … but before that?) and called to make a reservation for 11. You didn't need one but they did take them and Santana didn't want to waste a lot of time standing in the entryway of the restaurant when she could be sipping a Bellini and talking to Brittany.
She'd dressed semi-casually in a pair of black skinny jeans, a deep purple sweater, and a pair of black pumps and hoped it wasn't too casual. It wasn't too casual for Troubadour's but would Brittany think it was too casual?
It was 10:56am and Santana had to admit she was a little nervous; what if Brittany had changed her mind and blew her off?
“Hi, San!” A bright voice said from just behind her.
Santana spun around and grinned at the sight before her; Brittany, her eyes bright and her nose and cheeks red from the cold.
“Hi, Britt! Come on, our table is ready.” She offered Brittany her hand and the blonde eagerly took it.
“How long have you been here that we're at the top of the waiting list?” Brittany asked her. “I'm sorry if I kept you waiting.”
Santana shook her head as the hostess led them to their table, gave them menus, and took their drink order. Brittany shed her coat and Santana couldn't help but appreciate the blonde; she was in a fitted blue sweater, a gray skirt, and black boots.
“Um, I, uh, kind of woke up around 9 and called to make a reservation so we wouldn't have to wait.” Santana stammered out.
Brittany smiled brightly. “Aw, that was really thoughtful.”
The waitress came with their Bellinis and took their food order. Santana ordered a ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet with toast and a side of fruit. Brittany ordered pancakes, bacon, and a side of fruit as well.
They sat chatting about nothing much until their food came.
“How was your day yesterday? I mean, I know we texted and talked but I really didn't ask about what you were doing.” Brittany smiled.
Santana swallowed the food that was in her mouth and smiled back. “It was … ugh. Okay, so, I know I didn't really give you a lot of details but my best friend, Quinn, is getting married to Rachel …”
“Who's the hobbit?” Brittany asked, catching on to what Santana had been talking about yesterday.
Santana laughed. “Rachel. She's shorter than I am and I like … no, I love … teasing her about it.”
“That's mean,” Brittany tried to maintain a straight face but couldn't stop the giggle from breaking free.
“It used to be,” Santana admitted, “now, though, it's more a term of exasperated affection.”
Brittany grinned. “Okay, continue.”
Santana gave Brittany a run down on Quinn, Rachel, and Kurt; leaving them both almost in tears from laughing so hard.
“It's SNOWY? She actually … what does that even mean?” Brittany asked, in between bouts of giggling.
Santana shook her head. “No idea. Quinn saw me about to explode and dragged me out of there before I murdered her fiancee.” She grinned.
“Okay, I think I can see how you might end up a little frustrated.” Brittany had to admit.
They finished up and Santana paid; much to Brittany's annoyance.
“I've got dinner then.” She told the Latina.
“We'll see.” Santana laughed and interlaced their fingers as they walked out of the restaurant.
It was bitter cold out and, despite the restaurant only being a few blocks from her apartment, Santana waved down a cab. The cab ride was quiet, each of them enjoying the comfortable silence.
Santana grabbed Brittany's hand again as they exited the cab and climbed the steps to her building. They rode the elevator to Santana's floor and Santana led her down the hall to her apartment; she loved her apartment. It wasn't huge, by any means, but it was at the end and had windows on the north and west walls.
“What's that?” Brittany pointed to a box sitting outside Santana's door.
“Max's shit. I told her to pick it up today.” She shrugged. She didn't care if Max picked it up or not. If she hadn't picked it up in a week, Santana would toss it.
“What about your stuff?” Brittany nervously nibbled her lower lip.
“I didn't leave anything at her place.” Santana sighed and unlocked the door, letting them into the apartment. “Max has been my fourth 'relationship' in about eighteen months. I just … after number two I started to get wary of leaving stuff at someone else's place. After number three? I was done. I rarely spent the night at Max's so there was no reason to leave anything there.”
She glanced at Brittany as she hung their coats up. “I hope … I mean …”
“I get it.” Brittany smiled. “We're taking this slow … by the time we're leaving stuff at each other's places, we'll be sure this is going to last,” she winked at the Latina, causing her to blush.
Santana smiled softly at her and gestured for Brittany to make herself comfortable.
Brittany slipped her boots off and tucked one leg under her as she sat at the end of the couch with her back against the armrest.
“Do you want a drink or anything? Are you comfortable? I can get you a pair of sweats?” Santana was nervous now that Brittany was in her apartment.
Brittany shook her head. “I'm fine for now, San,” she smiled softly at the brunette.
Santana nodded and moved to sit at the other end of the couch, mirroring Brittany's position.
“You worked yesterday, right?” Santana asked, realizing that they had only talked about her day over brunch.
Brittany nodded. “Yeah. It was a light day, class and dance-wise,” she sighed, “but I had so much paperwork to do.” She grimaced.
“Not a fan?”
Brittany shook her head. “I hate it. Payroll, scheduling, ordering stuff, inventory … I do not like paperwork. Mike's been bugging me for about two months to hire someone and I was dragging my feet about it.” She shrugged. “It was a good diversion after everything with Jenny. But, now,” she glanced shyly at Santana, “I sort of have a reason to want to spend less time at work.”
Santana smiled brightly. “Yeah?”
Brittany bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah,” her voice was soft.
They sat there for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes.
Santana looked away first, clearing her throat. “That's kind of awesome,” she glanced back up and smiled.
Brittany grinned. “Okay, so, Miss Lopez, now that you have me here … what are we going to do?”
“Lady's choice; board games, cards, movies, jigsaw puzzle. I have a variety of activities.”
Brittany squealed. “Oooh, can we do a jigsaw puzzle? I haven't done one in ages!”
Santana nodded and jumped up. “I'm going to change into something more comfortable to sit on the floor in … you want?”
Brittany nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.”
xoxoxoxoxo
Brittany had to admit she was impressed; Santana had a cabinet, tucked away in the corner of the living room, that housed dozens of puzzles, a special jigsaw puzzle table, frames, glue … everything the serious puzzler could need.
“Wow, San.”
Santana blushed and ducked her head. “My abuela and I …” she sighed, “we used to do them all the time. When I was about twelve, she bought me the table. I still love doing them even though it reminds me of her. It's soothing, in a way. So, when I moved in here, I bought the cabinet to house all my puzzle stuff.”
“I think that's great.” Brittany smiled softly.
Santana smiled back at her and got everything set up, letting Brittany choose the puzzle.
Three hours, and a lot of laughter, later the puzzle of kittens was put together. Santana unfurled from the floor and went to back the cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of puzzle glue and a rolling pin. She carefully rolled over the puzzle, making sure there were no bubbles or puckers, then brushed the glue over the puzzle, taking care to cover the whole thing using a flat piece of plastic to spread it evenly.
“When it's dry, we can flip it over and glue the back; then we can frame it and you can take it home. Probably not for a couple of days, though. Gotta make sure it's really dry.”
Brittany grinned. “You're just trying to get me back over here, aren't you?”
Santana's eyes twinkled. “Mayyybeee …”
They both laughed and Santana carefully moved the table to in front of the cabinet so that it was out of the way.
A sudden banging on the door interrupted their laughter.
“Santana, open the door! We need to talk! Now!” Max's voice was demanding and burrowed into Santana's brain.
“Fuck. I told her not to bother knocking.” Santana deflated. And she was having such a good day …
Brittany grinned. “I'll take care of this, if you don't mind?”
Santana's tilted her head curiously then gestured to the door. “Be my guest.”
Brittany bounced over to the door and made sure the chain lock was on. Adopting an air of cool indifference, she opened it just a fraction. She wasn't nervous. She knew if Santana had answered the door, an argument was inevitable and there was no reason for it. Santana had told the woman to get lost, that should have been the end of it. She had no right to come pounding on Santana's door making demands. Brittany had no emotional investment in this woman; she was, however, starting to become invested in Santana and, while Brittany was decidedly non-confrontational, she was willing to fight for what she thought they might have.
“Can I help you?” Her tone was even, giving away nothing.
“Who the fuck are you?” Max demanded.
“I don't see where that's any of your business.”
“You're in my girlfriend's apartment, that makes it my business.” Max snarled at the blonde and tried to push the door open – only to be stopped by the chain. “Open the fucking door and let me in! Where the fuck is Santana?”
“Not your girlfriend. No. Shower.” Brittany said, keeping her answers short. She could see the brunette on the other side of the door getting angrier but she couldn't find it in her to care.
“What the fuck are you talking about? She is my girlfriend and you're in my way! SANTANA!” Max screamed through the crack in the door.
“I'm talking about … you should read your text messages. Your stuff is in that box, she doesn't want to talk to you. You should go.” Brittany tried to close the door but Max held it open.
“SANTANA! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
Brittany heard the elevator ding.
“SANTANA!” Max pounded the door. “GET THIS BITCH OUT OF MY FACE AND ANSWER THE GODDAMN DOOR!”
“Is there a problem here?” A police officer came into view.
“Yes, this fucking bitch won't let me into my apartment.” Brittany quirked a brow at that statement.
“Ma'am?” The officer turned to Brittany.
Santana put a hand on Brittany's shoulder and indicated that she should let Santana get to the door. Brittany acquiesced and stepped aside.
Santana opened the door.
“FINALLY!” Max tried to walk into the apartment but Santana pushed her back. “WHAT THE FUCK, SANTANA?”
Santana nodded at the police officers. “I'm the one that called you. This isn't her apartment, it's mine. That box is hers. It's all the stuff she's left here over the past four months. I broke up with her Friday. She's not taking it well.”
“Ma'am, do you have proof that this is your residence?” The officer asked Max.
“Well, no, but …”
“Ma'am. You've been asked to leave by the tenant of the apartment. I'm now telling you to leave. If you fail to comply we will arrest you for trespassing and failure to comply with a legal order. It's up to you how you leave here but you are leaving.”
“This isn't over, Santana,” Max growled at her. “Not by a long shot. And, blondie? You're not the first and you won't be the last to try and get between us. You'll be gone by next weekend. I'll be back, Santana.”
“And I'll call the police again, Maxine. Officers, you can witness this, right?”
The two men nodded.
Santana turned her focus to Max. “It's over Maxine. It's been over. I don't want to see you, hear from you, or talk to you ever again. Do not come back or I will call the police again. If I have to, I will hire a lawyer and file a restraining order. Stay away from me. We're done here.”
She turned to address the officers. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Yes, ma'am. We'll be filing a report on this I just need some information.” While one officer took Santana and Brittany's information, the other one escorted Max (and her belongings) downstairs. “Thank you, Ms. Lopez. If she comes back, this will serve to show a pattern of harassment.” He tipped his hat and nodded at them before making his way to meet his partner downstairs.
Santana closed the door and sagged against it; Brittany had her arms around Santana in an instant and led her to the couch.
“You okay? You need anything? Glass of water?” Brittany was solicitous, wanting to make sure Santana was okay.
Santana was leaning against Brittany. “No. Just … can you just hold me for a minute?” Her voice was small and meek.
“I can hold you for as long as you like.” Brittany told her, pulling Santana in closer and settling them more comfortably on the couch.
It was several minutes before Santana spoke again.
“You know it's not true, right? I never cheated on Max.” Santana looked up at Brittany, her eyes pleading. “I'm a lot of things but I'm not a cheater.”
“Hey, I know. I believe you. I was there Friday. I know who the cheater was.” Brittany made sure to keep eye contact to let Santana know she was sincere.
“Thank you.” She leaned back into the blonde who simply held her close as they once again fell silent.
“You wanna know something?” She whispered.
“Anything you want to tell me …” was Brittany's quiet response.
“Max and I never did a jigsaw puzzle together. She never even knew what was in that cabinet. You and I have barely started dating and you're already a better girlfriend than she ever was.”
Brittany smiled softly and kissed the top of Santana's head. “Well, then, I have a head start, don't I?”
Santana giggled. “I guess you do.”
They sat there in quiet comfort until hunger forced them to order food.
Then they sat there for the rest of the evening; eating pizza, cuddling, and watching old movies.
Santana thought this might be the start of something wonderful.
Brittany had no doubt that she'd found her soulmate.