Clockwork | Brittana

Chapter 9

She was in such a rush to get into her office that she almost dropped her ID card. Santana took a deep breath through her nose, trying to center herself before leaving hostile territory and entering what she considered her safe zone. The door slid opening, her computer welcoming her and reminding her about the many unanswered emails she had to take care of. At least Kurt was on top of the phone calls.

She glanced around, finding her assistant at his usual spot on the couch, and Brittany... sitting on top of the newest piece of furniture in her spacious office.

"What do you think?" Kurt waved his hand at the new addition, and the blonde on top.

It was a decent desk, though not as impressive as her own and obviously basic company stock. Brittany seemed content with it, as she sat on top of it and not in the chair behind it. Santana eyed the placement compared to her own, the corners were almost touching, so that together the desktops made an L shape. If they both sat down, Brittany was going to be just under four feet from her, less if she stayed on top of the desk instead of behind it.

"You're happy?" Santana asked the blonde, who nodded carefully.

Brittany was hoping she wasn't intruding too deeply into Santana's space.

"Then it's perfect," Santana's sent a briefly amused glance in the blonde's direction as she made her way to her desk. "Is that how journalists sit in their offices at The Lead?"

"I wouldn't know," Brittany tucked her legs under her a little tighter, "I don't have an office, I'm still in a cubicle."

"I remember my first cubical," Santana gave her the barest of smiles, "I was between these two idiots. They were fans of rival football teams and were always playing pranks on each other. A few times I was caught in the crossfire."

Brittany's eyes lit up, curious and intrigued, and Santana dived into a story about one of their spoon-catapult-fights gone wrong.

She told the story to the best of her memory, maybe embellishing the way it all played out to make it a little more humorous, and a little less deviant. Her white lies were worth the amused grin on Brittany's face. Santana found herself smiling along with the blonde, the tension from the meeting disappearing with each giggle that met her ears.

"I can't believe you would do that," Brittany bit her lip, "didn't you get into trouble?"

"No one could prove it was me," Santana shrugged, "the building was being renovated anyway, so if a load of sopping wet balls of paper, just happened, to fall through the ceiling tiles... how would they link me to that?"

"I still can't believe no one got hurt," Kurt was less than impressed at Santana's underhanded office battle tactics.

"They had some pretty hard heads," Santana rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to sympathize for people that made her hate coming to work everyday. "It was just plaster, no big deal."

"How was your meeting?"

Santana glanced back up at Brittany, because from her position on the desk, and how close their desks were to each other, she had to look up to the blonde. She found it kind of intimidating.

"It was fine," Santana downplayed the drama, "just boring corporate crap like retirement parties, sick leave policies, blah blah blah."

"Yada, yada, yada," Kurt smirked from the couch, too busy on his smart-phone to be paying too much attention.

"Really?" Brittany's head tilted slightly, "You seemed kind of upset when you walked in. Like, a little stressed."

Santana's eyes slid back to her computer, "You know how I put that new guy, Evans, on the project with Mike?"