Santana's never really given much thought to if she wants kids or not, but the six hour flight to Los Angeles with a screaming baby in the row behind her and Quinn is seriously lessening the human population's chances of a baby Lopez making an grand appearance anytime soon.
She says as much to Quinn, who doesn't even bother looking up from the magazine she's flipping through. "Thank God. One of you is bad enough, I don't want to think about a world that has your demon spawn in it."
Charming.
"You're such a bitch." Santana huffs, glaring at her phone in her lap. With its dead fucking battery. Fantastic.
"Learned from the best." Quinn replies, still entranced by an article comparing Gigantic Camera Lens Number One and Gigantic Camera Lens Number Two.
The baby, who has been quiet for the grand total of two minutes, lets out another ear piercing wail, and Santana grits her teeth together, squeezing her eyes shut and internally berating herself for forgetting to charge her phone last night. Hell she could have stuck in on charge this morning when she rolled out of bed and blinked sleepily at the screen, seeing zero texts from Brittany and 30% battery remaining.
Then again, there's a lot last night she could have done last night. She could have ran after Brittany sooner, instead of standing like a complete idiot in the middle of the bedroom replaying Brittany's speech over and over in her mind.
/
Santana blinks, the sound of a door slamming snapping her out of the endless loop of you are perfect to me going around in her head. She stares at herself in the extravagant mirror opposite her.
What the hell is she doing? Brittany's just told her she's falling in love with her, and she's just standing here doing nothing.
It hits her like a freight train, and whirling round, Santana dashes towards the door, yanking it open and rushing down the stairs and into the living room. A quick sweep of the room and she doesn't see Brittany anywhere. She does spy Kurt staring at her with a what the fuck have you done expression, but she ignores him, and turns to her right, barging past people in her hurry to get to Holly's front door.
"Come on, come on, hurry the fuck up you piece of shit." She mutters under her breath as she stabs at the elevator button with her finger. It dings, and she leaps into it as soon as she can, pressing the first floor button frantically.
Santana's out of the elevator before the doors are even fully open, running towards the front door of the building as fast as her heels allow her. Bursting outside dramatically, she looks around wildly for any sign of blonde hair, trying desperately to catch her breath. Goosebumps immediately shoot up her bare arms, and shit it's cold, but Santana couldn't give a fuck, stepping further onto the sidewalk and casting a glance up each way.
There's no sign of Brittany anywhere, just a cab turning the corner at the end of the street, which really, could have been anyone.
Shit, Brittany's really gone.
Fuck.
Sighing in defeat, Santana lets her shoulders drop and turns round, intending to head inside and make up some excuse about not feeling well to Quinn, grabbing her coat and going home.
/
She should have told the cab driver that took her home to take her to Brittany's instead, or she should have called, or texted, or done something when she got home.
/
Santana flicks the hallway light on when she gets in, tugging her coat off and hanging it up. Her head is spinning slightly, presumably a combination of the many margaritas she'd consumed and her little chat with Brittany.
YOU ARE READING
Paperweight
FanfictionAU. The problem isn't that Santana wants to hire new employees. She's overwhelmed at work, you can't fault her for that. The problem is she wants a certain blonde employee in more ways than just professionally. Side Faberry and Kurtbastian.
