|My Heart Lies With The Sea
Author: littlemusical PM
Brittany Pierce is kidnapped by the cut-throat pirate Santana Lopez and fears she will never see her old life again. Can the beautiful Captain make her forget all she knows and embrace a new life? Will love bring them together? Pirate Britanna. Two-shot.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Brittany P. & Santana L. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 13,546 - Reviews: 84 - Favs: 97 - Follows: 107 - Updated: 12-31-12 - Published: 08-25-11 - id: 7322831
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey guys. So I have been suffering severe writers block with 'I See You' and 'Enslavement' so in order to encourage my muse into helping me write them, I decided to take a little break and make up a two-shot Brittana pirate fic. I know. Strange huh? Just give it a chance. You might find that you like it. Oooh and its long so you might not read it in one sitting :P
Summary: Lady Brittany Pierce is kidnapped by the cut-throat pirate Santana Lopez and fears she will never see her old life again. Can the beautiful Captain make her forget all she knows and embrace a new life? Will love bring them together? Pirate Britanna. AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any pirate story for that matter.
My Heart Lies With The Sea
At first, there was only darkness and the erratic pounding of a singular, terrified heartbeat. The prisoner Hold of El Tiburón Oscuro, the most feared pirate ship to roam the ancient seas, was immersed in a silence that was suffocating to the senses of any creature that dared to lurk nearby. Filled with barrels and other dusty objects, it was almost impossible to see the small hunched form of the woman curled up at the far end of the damp room, trembling and sniffling miserably with her face buried beneath her hands. Dressed in a beautiful cream gown with her fine blonde hair spiralling around her shoulders in curls, the 18 year old lady all but wreaked of gentility and grace and for this, it was clear that she did not belong on the likes of such a ship.
Why she was here was something she could not answer? Confusion gripped her and she tried desperately to remember what had occurred over the last few hours of her capture. She remembered strolling outside the grounds of her home town with an escort whom her father wished for her to marry. The small-talk had been brief and disinteresting and she had tried not to appear bored and answered with great respect. Then, something strange had happened. The world went cold, the air went quiet and suddenly, they both found themselves lifted off the ground with swords forced against their necks and demands of money and treasure being whispered into their ears. When her suitor foolishly refused, they'd taken her hostage, running him through in the process, leaving him to die on the shores. Now she was here, drowning in the heady scent of salt. She, Lady Brittany Pierce. Captured by Pirates.
Maybe days had passed and Brittany was beginning to lose hope. She couldn't remember what sunlight looked like and warmth had long since left her body as it shook violently. A sickness had entered her stomach, most likely from the swaying of the ship and no matter how she tried to placate herself, it would not pass.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Brittany tried to pull herself to her feet. Maybe she could find something to drink in the barrels, even if it were an alcoholic beverage. Succeeding in getting up, she took a hesitant step forward and immediately collapsed to the floor with a thud, her legs too weak to support her exhausted weight. The blonde whimpered and tried to get up. She was so tired and scared that it had rendered her frail in all aspects of body and soul.
There was a creaking above her like a door being opened and looking up, Brittany saw a flicker of light as it trailed down the steps that led into the Hold itself. Through her blurred vision, she could see the outline of a figure descending to her, movements slow and resolute. Whining in terror, Brittany ducked her head, hoping beyond hope that she would be left alone to die in peace. The sound of a footstep and then something like a clunk approaching told her that this was not so. She was doomed.
"Get up lass," a voice, soft and reassuring said from above her. Looking up, the youngster blinked in confusion. A man in his mid forties stared down at her with kind hazel eyes to go with his head of brown locks. Allowing her eyes to trail down his body, she saw that he was strong and muscular with a fine figure, supported with a wooden leg that came up to his knee, "ye'll catch ye death down there."
Brittany certainly would've obeyed but weakness and fear kept her rooted to the floor. With a heavy sigh, the pirate bent down and, slipping both hands under her arms, hoisted her to her feet. The blonde began to kick and resist instantly, longing to escape, terrified of what he might do. His hold on her was firm but not cruel. He merely waited for her to stop struggling and did so with a calm intensity that was almost frustrating to witness.
"There," he said when she collapsed against him, breathless, "no need to work yeself up."
Brittany cried, "what do you want of me? I have no treasures to offer."
"Aye, that can be seen. I've come to take ye to the Captain," the pirate said, "orders brought directly from the Deck."
"And what if I refuse to go with you?" Brittany said stubbornly. She wrenched herself away from him, staggered backwards and found her feet with a resolute huff.
"Ye can't refuse. Captain Lopez demands yer company. Always best not to argue," the pirate chuckled and then, with a wide smile, held out his hand for her to take, "the names Will. And ye be?"
Looking down, the anxious blonde hesitated. Lord knows what kind of diseases lingered about him and she didn't want him to believe that, in accepting his gesture of kindness, they were friends.
"I won't harm ye lass," Will said.
Sighing and reaching out her hand to take that of the pirates, she said reluctantly, "my name is Brittany Pierce."
"Pleased to meet you," Will exclaimed, looking delighted that she had responded.
"Pleased?" Brittany asked, eyes wide with scepticism, "my dear sir, I am aboard this vessel I believe, to die. What pleasure can be found in that?"
"To die Miss Brittany?" Will laughed looking surprised, "I'm sorry to disappoint ye lass but etching a black spot into ye palm is not within my control but I be sure Captain Lopez does not intend to kill ye."
"How sure can you be?"
Will shrugged and set his hand on her arm, pulling her up the steps, leading her along gently, "come. The Captain is waiting."
Brittany realised with a pang of dismay that she had in fact been imprisoned in the Hold for more than a day or two as the sky, which had previously been bright and full of sun upon her capture was now dusted with red and orange, evidence that night was on its ways.
The Deck was a humid open surface of wood. Along the edges, lined up in position were great hulking canons supported on wheels and attached to the sides of the gunport with thick metal chains keeping them in place. Towering above, latched to the centre of the boat's structure were jagged white sails, blowing violently against the harsh sea gales. More barrels were set out here and there and sprawled around them in jumbles were large ropes and crates, containing secrets that only sea folk understood. To the right far end of the area was a set of steps (more like a ladder) leading up to the Sterncastle, an open surface much similar to that of the Deck where much mingling could be had and laughs could be shared.
Upon sight of the pretty maiden, the crew, a rowdy dishevelled group of vagabonds, burst into raucous cheers and catcalls. Brittany could feel their eyes on her, watching greedily, and leant closer to Will for protection.
"Don't hide lass," one called out.
"Aye," another jeered, "come join us fer a drink."
"Pay 'em no mind," Will said, rubbing her arm comfortingly, "their harmless."
Brittany certainly didn't want to stick around to prove that theory. She stood as close to Will as was humanely possible as he knocked on the door of the Captain's Quarters.
A moment later, there was a muffled reply and with a reassuring smile, Will opened the door and bowed her in.
"Are you not coming with me?" Brittany asked. Once again, she found herself trembling. The room was small and dusty and was hardly that of a Captain's Quarters. It contained a large, rotting sailor's chest and a single wooden chair, chipped and caked in what looked to be dirt and blood. Just ahead, within a few steps, was another door which most likely held the real Quarters.
"Nay," Will shook his head, "the Captain requests yer company, not mine."
"Just show respect and ye'll be fine," and before she could protest further, Will pushed her inside and slammed the door behind her with a resolute click.
Just breathe, Brittany told herself determinedly, you are a Lady of great stature and honour. You have nothing to fear. This was a lie. She'd never been more terrified.
Drawing in a shaky breath, the blonde straightened out her dress and knocked hesitantly on the door. She waited and waited, time passing swiftly and finally, growing impatient and suspecting her fate was already sealed in death anyway; Brittany pushed down on the door handle and let herself inside.
The room within her sight was a surprise to behold. Basked in a warm glow of red and gold, it was extravagant indeed. Pushed up against an open window to the right and twinkling beneath the golden light of an old lantern was a quaint oak desk layered in pieces of parchment and pots of pure blank ink. Along the dusty walls were gilded frames of unknown people with eyes that followed the youngsters every movement. Towards the back of the room was a giant Queen sized bed with great red sheets and plushy pillows supported by a towering headboard of gold and silver. Two large rounded chairs sat in the centre of the room, separated by a small filthy table that held a globe-like contraption that Brittany didn't recognise. Along the left wall was a long cupboard that reached the height of a man's waist and scattered across it in a dishevelled mess were little trunks, cases and decanters. In retrospect's, the Captain's Quarters was nothing like Brittany expected and everything the leader of El Tiburón Oscuro should have.
"I'm sorry," someone said from behind one of the rounded chairs, the voice deep and husky, "did I order you to enter?"
Brittany tried to speak but her words died upon her lips.
"Come. Let me look at you." The Captain didn't talk like Will or the other pirates. How odd.
Shuffling forward nervously, trying to find some sort of strength, Brittany made her way to the chair and with a respectful bow that Will would be proud of, waited to be addressed, keeping her gaze to the floor.
"Thank you," Brittany said curtly and pulling herself up, she took the second chair, brushed down her dress and turned to look at the being that shared her company.
Shock immediately overtook her senses. The person who sat across from her, the one that Will called Captain Lopez was no man at all but in fact, a very beautiful woman. The eyes that stared back at her were deep and dark, black even and her fine hair, also black, was plaited around and over her left shoulder. Her skin was Hispanic-like which only accentuated her loveliness. She had splendid cheekbones and full, kissable lips. Her figure was slender; her ruffled shirt clung to every curve, her legs laced in fine black breeches were strong and muscular and striking. She was an absolute vision that sent Miss Brittany's heart pounding into overdrive.
"I didn't believe Ladies of your standing were taught to gawp like that," the woman said sarcastically.
Blushing, Brittany closed her mouth and averted her gaze again, "and I did not know that kidnap was within the law of legality now."
"I have dominion over myself. If I wish to kidnap or kill or thieve it's my choice," the Captain stood and strolled with her hands folded behind her back to the long cupboard that held the decanters. She lifted the lid of the smallest and poured an ample amount into two wooden tankards before bringing them over to the blonde and handing one over, "drink. You'll feel better."
Brittany leant forward and sniffed at the pot. The overbearing scent of alcohol hit here there and then and she pulled back, poking her tongue out in disgust.
"It's just port," Captain Lopez chuckled, "much better than grog. What? Is such a thing too good for the likes of a high-society landlubber like yourself."
"No," Brittany snapped, "but you may have poisoned it."
"Aye, I suspected you'd say that." The woman laughed then and reaching down, took the drink from the blonde and brought it to her lips, drinking deep and long, "there," she said triumphantly, "no poison. Now finish the rest."
Brittany looked down on the large tankard, trembling uncomfortably as she tried to ignore the heat of the other woman's gaze as she waited for her to drink. She could feel anger rising and bubbling ferociously in her stomach. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be on this infamous ship known for murdering innocence and tainting the sea with blood.
With all the anger twisting beneath the surface, Brittany slung her tankard across the room where it shattered and splashed across the room. She regretted it instantly for the Captain launched at her, snatching up her hands and shaking her aggressively.
"You ungrateful little wench! Do you think its right to shove aside my hospitality like some dirty common bilge rat? I have a good mind to tie you beneath the keel and watch you drown! I –" she hesitated then, seeing the trepidation flicker in Brittany's eyes and the squeak of horror escape her lips.
Pulling back, Captain Lopez released Brittany from her grip, laughing in arrogant disdain.
"Will...Will said that you...won't...ki...kill me," she stammered breathlessly.
"Really?" Captain Lopez tittered, amused, "and you trust he has better authority than I on this ship?"
Something in Brittany's stomach clenched. A deep guttural groan dared to slip up her throat. As much as she dared to not feel, it was clear as sin that this woman was the most sexually attractive thing she'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. The thought made her sick but it also aroused her in every sense of the word.
In a futile attempt to quell this aching, Brittany said with a snort of disgust, "why don't you talk like your men? Are you smarter than them?"
"I'm smarter than everyone on this ship," the Captain chuckled, holding out her arms to gesture to her room and of course, further, "perhaps excluding ye, me beauty," Brittany was surprised to hear the woman's tone change so drastically from mere common speech to that of a true pirate, "does this be pleasing to ye Miss?"
Sniffing and turning her head, Brittany sighed, "I prefer being able to understand you."
Chuckling, the woman bowed, "then by all means, I shall speak to your liking. You here, are Mistress of this ship. Ask for anything within my power and I'll have it for you."
Captain Lopez winced, "well that in itself is not mine to give," she moved across the room to retrieve her tankard, taking a hearty drink as she considered her answer, "we are too far gone from your homeland to turn back now."
"What?" Brittany stood, enraged.
"You heard me," she answered coolly; "there is nothing I can do. You're stuck."
"No," Brittany whimpered, standing. She approached the woman, gripping her shirt and pulling her close, begging with all the beating in her heart, "this cannot be. I...I –"
"Hush. You're moaning tires me." Captain Lopez brushed herself away from Brittany, strolling across the room, her fine sailor boots pounding against the rickety floor as she made her way to the door.
"Do you plan to keep me here now? In this room?"
"Would you rather I send you back to the Hold? At least here you're living a little more comfortably," she said.
Brittany sniffled, throwing herself back into her seat.
"You cannot just keep me here like this. It is not right. It is inhumane," she cried.
"Oh come now lass," Captain Lopez laughed, shaking her head, "you're still alive aren't you? I have named you Mistress of this ship haven't I? Surely that's not such a bad settlement."
Brittany buried her face in her hands. The woman simply didn't understand. Why would she? This place was her home. Brittany's home lay on the lands in a small Dutch village.
The sound of the door swinging open alerted her senses and then, the Captain spoke again, "you may call me Santana. We might as well be on a first name basis now that you are under my command."
"I'd rather call you Captain Lopez," Brittany growled stubbornly.
"As you wish," Santana chuckled, "and am I allowed to ask your name?"
Knowing it was best to answer, the youngster said softly, "Brittany. Brittany Pierce."
"Hmm...and am I allowed to address you thus?"
"If you wish." Brittany returned her words.
"Good. Then I'll leave you to rest tonight. I'll send Will in with grub," and with that the door slammed shut, before anything more could be said or debated.
Brittany felt sorely alone in the small yet homey room all of a sudden. Her stomach whooped and whooped as she gazed around into the shadows, searching for an inch of safety amongst the dust and damp. She found none and she spent the night absorbed in her misery.
The longer Brittany inhabited El Tiburón Oscuro the more she pined for land. She had yet to get used to her new life on the sea but she was trying most desperately. Her days consisted of hardly any company for she only spoke to Will and his role as the Quarter Master on the ship left her very little attention.
She spent much of her time wandering back and forth on the Sterncastle for that was where she could be alone without the watch of the men and their teasing. When that grew too tedious she would sit in the solitude of the Captain's Quarters which had now promptly been named Brittany's room and there she would doodle pieces of parchment and amuse herself with the strange gadgets that lay spread around her.
Brittany had spare interaction with Santana. She avoided her at any costs. If she were honest, the woman terrified her. She didn't understand how such a beautiful and fragile creature could in fact govern El Tiburón Oscuro and its rowdy,hulking had always been offered the impression that women were delicate flowers who were expected to marry men and produce children. Now her vision was blurred. She didn't know what to believe anymore.
Santana was a very busy woman so even if Brittany had wanted to spend time with her it would've been damn near impossible. Being the Captain set her with responsibilities that kept her on her toes 24 hours a day. As the only other woman on the boat, Brittany should've wanted to bond with her for there was nothing more comforting to a scared and lonely woman than the presence of another of her kind and yet, they hardly saw each other. Santana barely strayed into her room. Santana didn't dare even look at her. In fact, Santana didn't even acknowledge her existence on the ship. It was as though Brittany were invisible.
Brittany longed for real civilisation.
She didn't like the pirates and their confusing pirate talk.
Ocean life was too rugged for the likes of her. The ship was always damp and the air was far too cold.
The Captain's eyes were always fixed upon her every wandering. It made her uncomfortable.
She didn't belong here. She wanted to go home.
Staggering back and forth on the Sterncastle, Brittany tried to keep her cool. Her head was rushing and she thought she might be dying. Beneath her fine tightened corset her chest heaved and whenever she tried to catch her breath she found herself choking and gasping for more air. Why was everything spinning? The world felt hazy. Had it always been like this?
"Shiver me timbers. Are ye alright lass?" One of the pirates was aboard the Sterncastle, watching her anxiously. Turning, the blonde tried to remember his name – Sam? Puck? It evaded her.
"I...I'm very well," she slurred, "I'm just getting some fresh air."
"Yer be looking a little peaky there," he said, sounding concerned.
"Don't trouble yourself to worry good sir," Brittany murmured. She turned and set both her hands firmly on the edge of the boat. Oh God, she was going to be sick.
Looking over the ship, the blonde took a deep, well needed breath and stared down at the crashing waves. It didn't help in the least. In fact, the motion only increased the pounding of her head and the shaking of her sight.
"Come 'way from the edge there lass," the pirate – it was definitely Sam, demanded, "yer not well."
"I said I'm fine Mr Evans," Brittany snapped and as though fate stepped in to make her eat her own words, the youngster's head blazed with a sudden rush and staggering forward she tumbled over the edge of the ship and into the waves below.
The impact of her body hitting the icy water shocked Brittany's delirium. Gasping, she kicked and screamed, trying to claw and keep her head at the surface.
"He...help," she spluttered, choking, "can't...swim."
The same echo roared overhead.
Thanks to the weight of her soaked dress, Brittany sunk below the darkness of the sea, water flooding her ears, nose and mouth. She would've screamed in that moment had it been possible. Kicking out, she pushed up, fighting to break the surface, fighting for her life. Some miracle of determination propelling her forward and she splashed and spluttered as she emerged amongst the waves, clawing at the side of the boat, trying to get a grip along the keel but finding nothing.
Her dress was so heavy and the water was too cold. Every time it filled Brittany's mouth it seared into her soul. She could feel her body beginning to weaken but it didn't stop her from thrashing around with her arms and legs, trying fruitlessly to do the one thing she had never learnt.
Perhaps she swallowed too much water or perhaps her lungs were just too weak to fight but Brittany felt exhaustion take over and as though submitting to her fate, she simply stopped and felt her body begin to sink beneath the surface of the ocean, drifting lower and lower until her head was submerged and water began to fill her aching lungs.
So overcome with death, so close to drifting into the unconscious world, the drowned maiden didn't feel the reverberation of another body splashing beside her own. She barely registered the pair of nimble hands cupping around her waist to drag her up and up and up. Her head lolled as with a gasp, she broke the surface along with someone else whose hold was tight around her waist, keeping her from slipping away again.
"Keep your hands around my neck," the rescuer ordered.
"I...I don't think I can," Brittany whimpered.
"Look at me," came the next demand, "look at me now!"
Summoning the strength somehow, Brittany opened her eyes and blinked tiredly. The gaze of Santana Lopez stared back at her, resolute and strong. In those pretty black orbs was a light that was unbreakable indeed. They told her that she was safe and cared for. Not just here and now in the water but for always. They made Brittany hurt in a good way. They warmed her sea-cold body.
"You must keep your hands around my neck lass," the Latina said tenderly, "okay?"
"Ye...yes," Brittany stuttered and to prove her promise she lifted her throbbing legs and wrapped them around the Captain's waist, securing herself to the woman indefinitely.
"I've got her. Lower the ropes. I'm ready!" Santana called out.
A moment passed before a big thick rope descended somewhere from above. Brittany's eyes were half-open half closed but she was aware of her rescuers movements as she took hold of the rope with both hands, gripping firmly with a look of sheer determination upon her beautiful face.
"Good job Lads. Now, hoist me up!"
It took time but eventually they began to shake and it dawned suddenly upon the youngster that they were being pulled out of the ocean. Brittany kept a tight hold on Santana's neck, even though she knew it must've been hurting her. She could see so much strength radiating out of the woman and this made her envious and awe-struck. How could someone be so full of life?
Seconds turned into minutes and Brittany could see several of the crew's faces staring down at her. She felt rather foolish for having caused such a drama in so short a time of being on the ship and she imagined that when the initial shock of what had just happened wore off they would laugh and scoff at her stupidity and her inability to swim.
"Take the girl first," she heard Santana say and a moment later she was being hoisted away from the Captain and wrapped up in a bundle of sheets.
"Miss Brittany," Will's arms were suddenly around her, holding her close, "ye frightened the sailor outta me yah silly thing."
"I'm...I'm sorry," the blonde said, her teeth chattering against the cold, "I...I...just...fe...fell and I...I couldn't sto...stop myself."
"Arr, come lass," he said, rubbing her back, still clinging to her, "let's get ye to yer room."
"Wait," Brittany pulled away from him and stumbled over to where Santana stood, surrounded by the rest of her crew who were patting her on the back and congratulating her on her valiant rescue, "I...thank you," she said nervously, "for saving me."
Santana looked surprised by her acknowledgement but nonetheless pleased, "you're welcome," she said gruffly.
Noticing the Latina had yet to be wrapped in a sheet; she removed one of her own and brought it around Santana's shoulders, securing it gently at the front.
"To keep you warm," she murmured helplessly.
"Thank you." Santana's cheeks were flushed pink and Brittany doubted it was from the exertion of a good long swim.
It seemed as though all Brittany really needed to gain acceptance on El Tiburón Oscuro was to nearly die. The drowning incident had certainlyimproved her status on the ship and now she walked amongst the men confidently, taking their teasing with a pinch of salt, accepting each of their characters with utter ease.
Her relationship with Santana had changed drastically too. The women had learnt to dance around each other, still not entirely comfortable in talking but meeting one another with shy glances and timid touches. It was enough for Brittany who had began to see the woman in a different light since her rescue. She was no longer the murderous kidnapper who had enslaved her presence to the ship, intent on her demise. She was merely Santana Lopez, Captain of El Tiburón Oscuro, the bravest woman she had ever met. Her hero.
Night fell upon the ocean and with it came calm that all upon the boat, especially Brittany, relished in feeling and experiencing. It had been a tiresome day, one the lady had spent in the quiet of her room and so nothing gave her greater pleasure than to sit with the crew on the deck, listening to stories of the sea and losing herself in the hearty indulgence of grog and rum.
"So lass, what be yer tale of life?" Blaine, the rigger asked from beside her, still tapping his foot to the lost song they'd been singing only a few minutes ago.
"Oh there is little to speak of Mr Anderson," she said, waving her hand dismissively, "I am a Lady and we live such tedious lives."
"Come now. It can't be all that bad," Mike queried, "to live in finery."
"Ah but that is the hitch," Brittany replied, "my family and I –" she paused, trailing off, forgetting that ultimately she was about to spill the contents of her life story to a ship full of strangers.
"What?" Mike encouraged.
"Nothing," Brittany shook her head, "it does not matter."
"And what if, as your Captain, I demand that you speak with us openly."
Every head turned at the entrance of Santana who, up until this moment, had been absent. A spark shot down to the base of Brittany's spine as she took in the sight of the woman before her. Santana strutted into the centre of the Deck, her hips swaying, her hair blowing in the wind. She looked beautiful as per usual, her white ruffled shirt open at the collar, revealing a tint of Spanish flesh. The way she surveyed Brittany was unreservedly hypnotising. It made the blonde's stomach knot and some part of her wished to fall to her knees and offer the Latina anything she so wished.
"What is it you wish to know?" She whispered.
"What Blaine asked. We wish to know who you are Miss Brittany Pierce," Santana answered.
Licking her lips, Brittany spoke hesitantly, "I...I'm the daughter of a man who has little money but a great title. I am expected to marry into a wealthy family in order to secure myself substantially in life. I have lived in a loveless house for the past 18 years of my life. I am studied in German and French but understand nothing of society. My only friend is an overweight cat whom I call Lord Tubbington and though being a Lady offers me false respect and liking amongst my kind I am ultimately trapped. I shall live forever in this way. Unhappy."
There was silence for a moment as the crew deliberated what she had relayed to them. She took in their surprise, staring from face to face, waiting patiently.
"What do you mean Brittany?" Santana asked, "you are expected to marry? Why does your high society family not have money?"
"Because my parents are greedy and they wasted their incomes to the point of poverty," she replied, shrugging her shoulders, "it is the 17th Century. Money doesn't last forever."
"Hear hear!" Will raised his tankard to her.
Smiling, the blonde turned her gaze back to the Captain, gazing curiously, "and speaking of my escort...I so do hope he's still alive. Your men ran him through with a sword."
"Surely ye didn't want to marry the scurvy swab Miss Brittany?" Kurt asked.
"Of course not," Brittany shook her head, straightening out her dress nervously, "but Lord Karofsky has prospect and upon my return I shall be expected to marry him...if he's still alive that is."
"Then don't return!" Blaine bellowed with a grin.
"Yeah! Stay with us!" Will laughed.
There were several other nods and mutters of approval.
"We'll talk care of ye lass."
"Aye. Yer our little good luck charm."
Brittany chuckled, "you're all very kind, thank you but I have every intention, when your Captain decides it, of returning home and fulfilling the role that is expected of me."
She turned to look at Santana whose eyes were still trained upon her. The Latina licked her lips, clenching her hands into fists. Brittany saw the muscle in her leg ripple beneath her breeches like she had just fought off the desire to move. Then as if she were only just aware of her staring back, Santana looked away, shaking her head.
"Best get to bed now," she ordered loudly, "or nought work will be done tomorrow."
"Aye Aye Captain!"
Brittany was numb. She sat still and watched as the men moved around her, each retiring to their sleep places, some disappearing beneath the ship to rest in the darkness with, most likely, the rats. Santana's figure was suddenly leering over her, strong and domineering as she looked down at her with sultry, lustful eyes.
"Off to bed Brittany. You must be tired," she said.
Standing, the youngster took hold of her dress and walked around the Latina, aware of her gaze but refusing to turn around to meet it.
"Goodnight," Santana said.
Swallowing, Brittany whispered, "goodnight," and scampered into her room, the only place she felt truly safe.
Boredom began to sink in which sent Brittany's temperament spiralling into irritation. She became snappy and bitter, saying little, offering no kindness with her usual cheery smile and chirpy disposition. She took to ignoring the men as they stopped to engage her in conversation and stomped around El Tiburón Oscuro with an expression upon her pretty face that could sooner turn a pirate to stone if they looked upon it.
The youngster spent days upon days in her room, locking herself in, answering to no one. She paced back and forth in the small contained space, feeling like a caged animal, wanting to escape, growing more in frustration with every passing day. There were times when she could just throw things and lash out, kicking tables, launching chairs, simply flee into her rage.
Then there were other times when all she wanted was to sink into the big Queen sized bed and stay there forever. She didn't like to get angry but she couldn't help herself. She blamed everyone on the ship. They had brought her here. They had conditioned her to live like this until Santana Lopez said otherwise and it wasn't fair. She was no pirate. She was a Lady.
The incident occurred in the afternoon when Will was calling the crew for grub. Brittany heard him from her place at the front of the boat but she chose to ignore him.
Her gaze was set on the waves that thrashed ahead, laying in wait. She loved looking out to the horizon; it was like staring into the soul of God and it made her feel better.
"Miss Brittany," Will's voice carried to her on the wind, "come. Grubs up."
She ignored him again. She told herself she wasn't hungry, even though the tantalizing scent of stew danced around the ship like a butterfly on the breeze.
"Yer being called Miss," Kurt came up behind her, tapping her shoulder.
"And I heard, thank you! I'm not hungry," Brittany snapped.
"Ye'll make yerself sick. Come. Eat with us. Ye haven't done that fer quite some time." He reached out for her, touching her arm briefly. The lady's reaction was instantaneous. She swung the entire weight of her body into the palm of her hand, smacking Kurt across the cheek and hissing out warnings for him to stay away.
Kurt didn't need to be told twice. In fact, the poor lad looked upset and he stepped back, apologising as some of the other men came to his aid.
"What's going on here?" Santana broke through the gathering, looking enraged that the peace had been broken upon her vessel.
"It's nothing Captain," Kurt shook his head, his eyes set on Brittany's in a sad simpering manner, "Miss Brittany and I had a disagreement of sorts. Ye've nothing to worry about."
"I'll be the judge of that," Santana said and she took Kurt's hand and pulled it away from his face, examining the tinted red skin and the small slice that was etched into his cheekbone where Brittany's nail had struck him, "a disagreement huh?" she turned to look at Brittany, "what say's you milady? Do you enjoy injuring my men?"
"She meant no harm Captain," Kurt said defensively.
"She meant all the harm in the world," Santana said loudly, "and I'll have none of it on my ship."
"What are you going to do?" Brittany scoffed, "make me walk the plank?"
Santana shook her head, "you take advantage of your position on this ship. Do not think I'll go lightly on you. Striking one of my men does not sit well with me."
"Oh how childish of you Captain Lopez," Brittany rolled her eyes sarcastically, "a cut throat pirate protesting a simple smack across the face. How trivial."
"Do not test my patience madam!" Santana said through clenched teeth.
Brittany knew she should've stopped when she had the chance but her anger had been building for days and she couldn't disguise her hatred for the woman standing opposite her.
"Maybe you should've thought about my testing your patience before you decided to kidnap me," she growled.
Something sparked inside Santana as Brittany hissed at her. She stormed towards the blonde and encasing her wrist with her fingers began to yank her through the scattering men, ignoring Brittany's screams of protest as she writhed and struggled to break free.
"I'll teach you to snap and snarl at me like some common bitch," the Captain spat. She wrenched Brittany down to the Deck, disregarding Kurt's protests to take it easy on her, "when I'm done with you I swear, you'll wish I'd made you walk the plank!"
"Let...me...go," Brittany screamed.
Santana threw open the door that led to her quarters, dragging Brittany inside. She kicked open the second door and with a growl of rage, shoved the youngster over the threshold again before stepping inside herself and slamming it behind her.
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" She demanded.
"What's the matter with me?" Brittany cried, her voice had lifted a number of semitones, "the crazed Captain of this disgrace of a ship dares to ask me that! The same Captain that kidnapped me, that murdered my escort, that tore me away from my family?"
"Oh don't play the victim Brittany, you've lived in luxury since your arrival on this vessel," Santana snapped back, her face inflamed with rage.
"Of course. Locking me in a dungeon for days was truly hospitable," Brittany paced back and forth, "trapping me here with no direct connection to my home. Why don't you just kill me already? Why are you keeping me in this godforsaken hell? Aren't you supposed to be the infamous Captain who massacred ships and villages? Why don't you just get it over with already?"
"I thought I made it clear that I didn't intend to kill you," Santana said, sniffing in displeasure, "are you so stupid that you can't remember anything I tell you."
Brittany rounded on the Latina, thrusting her against the wall. Santana cried out in pain as her shoulders blades dug into the hard surface of a framed portrait.
"I'm not stupid," Brittany muttered darkly.
Santana didn't waste any time in getting the upper hand. She flipped the blonde over, ramming her into the wall with a groan. Brittany yowled her disapproval and tried to free herself. Her attempts were however futile as Santana pushed all her weight forward and into Brittany's body, keeping her in place.
"What's really bothering you?"
Brittany shook her head furiously, "like I'd really tell you."
"It would be in your best interest if you did," Santana murmured, "how else can I help."
Brittany didn't know how to answer. She was suddenly too aware of the pulsing between her thighs and the way her body was responding to that of Santana who was so impossibly close they may as well have been one flesh.
"Tell me," the Latina implored tenderly. She ran her hand down the length of Brittany's arm, her touch almost worshipping, her fingers gentle yet resolute. Brittany fought the desire to shift against her, to rub and buck and offer Santana the same strange pleasure she were feeling
"I...I can't," she said, shaking her head, "you'll think me silly."
"No I won't," Santana chuckled, "come. Tell me."
Brittany closed her eyes, already feeling foolish. She picked a spot upon Santana's chest and stared at it, gaze set, heart pounding, "I'm bored."
Santana looked at her blankly for a few moments and then realisation dawned upon her face and she burst into laughter, her features alive with the hilarity of what her companion had just said.
Brittany wasn't pleased in the least. She made to scold the Latina but found herself quite mute as she felt the erratic rising and falling of the woman's breasts brushing against her own, the movement of her hips, the brushing of their hot centres. It felt so good and so right that Brittany couldn't help the moan of delight that rolled up her throat and out of her lips. Santana certainly heard it for her laughter died away and a flash of satisfaction danced in her dark eyes. She leant forward, licking her lips, and pressed herself harder into Brittany, clearly wishing to emit a similar sound from the blonde who pulled away slightly, wanting nothing of the sort.
"I am not trying to be ungrateful," Brittany sighed. "but there's nothing to do on this ship. There are no books, no games, no activities and it may sound foolish to a great Captain like yourself but for me it's tiresome. Doing nothing puts bad thoughts in my head. It makes me miss my home and my family. It makes me hate the sea," she lowered her voice sadly, "it makes me hate you."
Santana looked disappointed as she stepped away from the blonde. Brittany sorely missed the warmth of her body and wanted nothing more than to reach out for her and tug her close again.
"I'm sorry these past few weeks have offered you nothing to enjoy," she said, strolling around the room, avoiding the blonde's watch, "but if you'll wait patiently for a day or two then we can stop at the next harbour and perhaps buy you some books to amuse yourself with."
"Really?" Brittany was surprised the woman would be so kind as to do such a thing.
Santana nodded, "will that appease you enough to stop striking at my men?"
"Yes," Brittany replied, "I'm...I'm sorry for –"
"Oh don't apologise," Santana cut her off, "the last time I took my anger out on a man I cut out his heart with a blunt knife."
Brittany gasped, "you did not?"
"I'm afraid I did," Santana walked over to her, reaching up to cup Brittany's cheek, "but rest assured that no matter my anger I shall never harm a hair on your precious head." She leant up and pressed a soft kiss to Brittany's cheek and before the blonde had time to react, she'd thrown open the door and disappeared.
Brittany didn't understand all these new feelings that she felt whenever Santana was around. At first it was easy to think that her attachment and yes, attraction to the fiery brunette was because she was the only other woman on the ship. Now, after feeling her heartbeat, after experiencing the gentle roll of her hips, Brittany wasn't so sure.
It was obvious that Santana was beautiful and her dominance amongst the men was something Brittany truly admired when considering the matter. It wasn't that she found women more attractive than men but unlike others of her kind, she had always appreciated the prettiness of a feminine body. As she hit that awkward age in which awareness of sex became more apparent, Brittany learnt that she liked to look at the softness of a woman just as much as thinking of a man...maybe even more so. She didn't dare tell her parents of how she felt. They would look at her as though she were the spawn of Satan. She would be slung out in the streets to rot in her sin. No. It was best to be alone in such matters.
Of course, when thinking of Santana it was entirely different. One look from the Captain and Brittany's heart and soul shook like the waves against a sea storm. She'd heard great stories of lust craving pirates falling victim to mermaids out amid the rocks and had often scoffed at their silliness. Now Brittany understood. Lust was a cruel and terrible thing and when it began to eat away at the body it left emptiness inside that just needed to be filled. Santana was her mermaid – calling to her with a siren song, making her nights alone in bed cold and her dreams hot with passionate encounters. Brittany would wake in the morning in a tangle of sheets, panting with her legs pooled in arousal. Embarrassed. Unsatisfied.
They dropped anchor not too far away from a harbour in a town Brittany did not recognise. She watched from her window as Santana and the men sailed across the ocean in a medium sized row boat and felt as though she were being left behind while they went off to indulge in adventure and daring.
Will, Blaine and Puck had volunteered to stay aboard the ship with her in case she were to fall into any unnecessary trouble but the way Santana had said it made her feel as if the Latina were merely afraid she would try and escape if she were alone.
"Ye'll be falling overboard again if ye lean any further out the window Miss Brittany," Puck said teasingly from his place in Brittany's favourite wingchair. It wasn't often the men were allowed to stray into the Captain's Quarters and he seemed to be enjoying the experience as he kicked up his feet on the table and leant back to sink into the soft seat.
"Perhaps I should fall overboard," Brittany said wistfully, "maybe Captain Lopez will come back for me and take me too."
"Arr ye don't wanna stray out there. The Captain and the men only have to take their eyes of ye for a second and ye might be snatched up by other rogue pirates."
"I highly doubt that will happen," Brittany said.
"Don't be so sure lass," Will came to stand beside her, peering out the window with his kind brown eyes, "there would be many a pirate who'd snatch you up because of your pretty face and your wealthy dress. They wouldn't be so kind as us neither."
"Santana wouldn't let anyone harm me," Brittany answered, thinking back to the night when they'd argued and she'd sworn thus.
"Aye, I be in agreement Miss Brittany," Will said nodding, "but the Captain doesn't have eyes in the back of her head and she can't always be watching ye."
Brittany turned to look at Will and for a moment thought she saw something of understanding in his gaze. When she looked again, it was gone, just like Santana.
"Oh my," Brittany gasped as yet another case of finery was pulled into her room, gifts from the harbour that must've cost a fortune, "really, this is all too much."
Santana stood in the open doorway of the Captain's Quarters, looking very pleased with herself indeed. She leant to the side casually, her arms folded over her chest as she observed the delight in Brittany's face as case upon case was opened to reveal books, new parchment and ink and materials in which she could sew and amuse herself with.
There were other things too – a chessboard and an assortment of paints, playing cards and a strange musical instrument that Brittany didn't recognise. There were so much wonders to behold that the lady could hardly take them all in.
"Oh Santana," she said breathlessly, "you really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble. I believed you'd purchase me a book or two, not all these brilliant treasures. Santana? What's wrong? Are you well?"
The Latina had straightened up as Brittany thanked her and the expression upon her face was one of confusion and glee.
"What...what did you call me?" She asked quietly.
"Santana?" The youngster said nervously.
"Yes," Santana breathed, smiling, "that. You've never called me by my name before." She approached Brittany, more child that woman and more woman that pirate.
"I guess we've gotten to that stage where we no longer need to address each other so informally," Brittany replied, beaming right back.
"I'll admit," Santana nodded, "it sounds nice."
She brushed aside a strand of hair out of Brittany's face, her fingers then slipping to dance down her cheek, her thumb pad lingering upon the youngster's plush lips.
"You're very sweet Santana," Brittany whispered and the Latina's smile lit up the room at the sound of her name again.
"Don't let my crew hear you say that," she laughed, "or they'll think me soft and serve me up for shark bait."
"Then I assure you," Brittany leant down to her, trying to get closer, "my lips are sealed."
Santana took a step forward so their bodies were touching if but tentatively. She brought her other hand around to rest on the back of Brittany's neck, "sealed? What a pity. I wanted them open and willing." She leant up and Brittany willingly responded, leaning down until their mouths were but a centimetre apart and all she could feel was the warmth of the woman's breath...
"Captain," Kurt stumbled into the room and before they were caught, the women jumped apart, trying to bring distance between them.
"What is it Kurt?" Santana said, looking flustered and sounding frustrated.
"We be weighing the anchor now. Will wants ye at the helm." If Kurt had seen anything he said nothing but Brittany, who was pretending to read one of her new books could see him smirking into the palm of his hand, hiding his amusement.
"Fine," Santana told him abruptly, "I'll be with you in a few moments."
"Aye Aye Captain," Kurt cried and with a salute left the women in peace.
Santana stood away from Brittany, facing the open doorway. The way her shoulders were hunched up and the manner in which she breathed spoke of great irritation and Brittany could only deduct that it was from being so rudely interrupted.
"Santana," the blonde set down her book and came up behind her, placing a gentle hand on her back.
"Hmm," Santana mumbled, returning to reality.
"I...do you feel..." she trailed off, her confidence failing.
Santana turned to glance at her, frowning and all the same looking hopeful, "do I feel what?"
"Nothing," Brittany shook her head dismissively, "it doesn't matter. Thank you," she gestured around the room, "for the gifts Santana. Their beautiful." You're beautiful.
"You're most welcome." The smile that graced the Latina's face as she left her alone was simplistically soft. It made Brittany feel ten feet tall and on top of the wall.
Our father, who art in heaven...
She couldn't feel this anymore. It was wrong. Sick.
Hallowed by thy name...
Those eyes. That figure. The smile. So lovely. How could anyone resist something so perfect?
Thy Kingdom come...
It was hell. She shouldn't want this...not with a woman. It wasn't normal. A woman was made for a man and a man was made for a woman.
Thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven...
Women were not meant to love other women. There was nowhere to be intimate. How could they become one flesh? It wasn't possible. Oh God, she wanted to be with Santana. She wanted the intimacies. She wanted to learn how to bring her pleasure.
Give us this day our daily bread...
No. She wouldn't. She couldn't.
And forgive us our trespasses...
God would not forgive this.
As we forgive those who trespass against us...
She was a foolish child. She allowed herself to be led into a merry dance and why not, when she wanted it so wickedly.
And lead us not into temptation...
Temptation. Persuasion. Influence. It all meant the same thing: Santana.
But deliver us from evil...
Santana. Her Santana.
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory...
No more. She had to guard her heart. She had to keep herself safe or she would fall into sin and would die.
For ever and ever...
But she couldn't...she wanted her forever...and ever...and ever...and ever...
Brittany loved her new treasures with a passion and true to her word of needing them, used them with great enthusiasm. She had the crew teach her blackjack with her cards and she even won a few games though she suspected the likes of Sam and Puck let her win. She painted the horizon at sunset and had made several promises to Kurt to immortalise him as a portrait. She spent many mornings sewing, using the pretty materials to weave lovely tapestry work.
Of course, her favourite pastime came in the evening after dinner. Brittany truly loved sitting in the warmth of her room, reading biblical texts and poetry. Santana had taken to joining her. She would sit at her feet like a faithful lapdog and listen with deep intrigue as Brittany read aloud, letting the youngster play with her hair, purring softly. Sometimes, if Brittany grew tired she would pass the book over to the Captain and would demand that she read. Santana was slower in her deliverance (she was far less studied) but Brittany enjoyed the way her voice caressed the words and she found she could listen to her all day. They eventually got to the point where they took turns reading to each other so as best to satisfy one another. Once, after several evenings of reading the Corinthians Santana did not come and Brittany missed her sadly. She scolded her for neglecting their time together the next morning. Santana merely looked pleased and said, "I'm sorry. I shan't miss again."
Watching Santana fight was like trying to catch the wind. She was quick and nimble, breezy and playful and just about evaded capture, always slipping through her assailants fingers. Brittany liked watching her as she jousted and took great delight in cheering her on and clapping when the Latina did something daring and valiant.
One morning, when the sun had yet to break through the clouds, Santana was ambushed by three of her men (a game of sorts) and the rest of the crew watched on as she dodged and kicked, lashed and punched and fought her way through the pile up.
"Get 'em Captain," Blaine cried as Finn launched himself at her. Santana was too clever to catch such a blow. She ducked and at the same time swung her leg around and knocked Finn to his feet.
Brittany jumped up and down excitedly, setting her sewing aside to better watch the scene before her. Puck came next. He gripped the Latina firmly around the neck and lifted her in the air. She struggled a little, wheezing and turning blue under the strain of his hold. Then, just when Brittany thought Santana might have lost, she swung around and punched him square in the face, the force knocking him backwards, releasing her instantly.
"Who's next then?" Santana laughed arrogantly. She spied Brittany watching from the Sterncastle and wandered over, climbing up the steps and offering her a crooked half smile, "does this please you Miss?"
Brittany blushed and ducked her head, "it pleases me to see you win."
"Well then you must be very pleased," Santana chuckled heartily, "do I get a favour for winning so handsomely?"
Brittany looked left and right to see if anyone was watching and when it seemed as though they were quite alone in their conversation leant across and pressed a gentle kiss to Santana's cheek.
"Will that tide you over?" She asked, her voice quiet and embarrassed.
Santana grinned, "for now perhaps," and with that, she jumped off the Sterncastle and turned to Sam who was waiting for her impatiently.
"I'm gonna make you wish you were back home on your Spanish island Captain," he teased, his eyes glinting. He ran at Santana, a growl burbling in the back of his throat but before he could even strike, she sidestepped him and stuck out her boot, tripping him up and off his feet and sending him to the floor with a thud, the impact of his head hitting the Deck leaving him unconscious.
The crew erupted into cheers and gathered around their Captain to compliment her and sing her praises. Santana hardly took notice of them. She only had eyes for Brittany.
Thunder and lightning conquered the heavens and rain lashed down upon the ocean like the stars were crying and would most likely never stop. El Tiburón Oscuro groaned beneath the power of the wind and strained against the thrashing waves and crashing lights.
Brittany stumbled out of her room, clinging to anything within her reach and clawing at the threshold of the door to anchor herself to something safe. She could hear the cries of the men just outside the door that led to the Deck, trying to gain control of the ship, trying to prevent it from sinking beneath the weight of the storm.
Darting to the next door, she stumbled out into the open and was met with a flash of lightning.
"Miss Brittany," Will staggered to her side, "ye must return to yer room. Tis not safe."
Brittany's obscured vision searched for Santana and she found her, standing beneath the rigs, shouting out demands to her men.
"Raise the sails! Secure the cannons! Heave to!"
"Santana," she muttered desperately.
"She'll be fine Miss," Will said, trying to usher her inside, "but this be no place for a lady."
If Brittany hadn't been watching the object of her affections she would not have seen the rig snap behind her, suddenly descending upon the Latina at a remarkable speed. Brittany didn't know how she found her feet but once second she was being restrained by Will and the next she were darting across the Deck. She reached Santana and pushed her aside out of the assailing heap of wood. She saw Santana hit the ground and felt the weight of the rig come down against her own back. She was thrust forward. A cry of absolute agony seared through her mouth. Then...there was nothing.
"She be coming to," someone was saying, "look."
"Quiet. She needs all the rest she can get," Santana! Brittany heard her and her body shifted in response. Opening her eyes timidly, she looked around, her sight blurred as she took in the people standing around her. Then, everything was clear and everyone came into view. Will, Finn, Sam, Puck, Kurt...everyone was there.
"What...what happened?" Brittany tried to sit up but a sharp pain in her spine took over and she fell back into her bed, whimpering.
"I know," Santana crooned, sounding maternal, "it hurts. Just stay still and focus on getting better."
"Shiver me timbers, that was some hit ye took lass," Finn winced.
"Aye," Will nodded, "but yer a hero true enough."
"Alright alright," Santana turned to look at the crew over her shoulder, "out you all go. There's work to be done and Brittany needs time to sleep and recover."
The men obeyed, some leaning down to pat Brittany's leg, others smiling and nodding as they left the room together. Only when the door clicked shut did Santana speak.
"Why did you do that?" She asked quietly.
Brittany frowned, "do what? Save you?"
"Yes," Santana replied, "why would you risk your life like that?"
Brittany curled her face into the pillow and sighed impatiently, "for the same reason you jumped into the water to save me that day I nearly drowned...because we care about each other...because we can't survive if we think the other is within an inch of danger."
Santana looked surprised but she didn't argue her case or deny what Brittany had just said. She leant back in her chair and shrugged her shoulders in an act of defeat.
"I suspect you've broken a rib or two," she said softly, "but there's no real way of knowing," she paused, considering and then added, "thank you...for saving me. You're too good a person to be on this ship."
Brittany sighed, "no. I'm a better person because I'm on this ship."
Laughing and shaking her head, Santana stood and motioned to the door.
"I think it's time I left you to rest," she said, "I have work to do anyway," she hesitated and then tiptoed over to where the blonde lay. She leant down, smiling bashfully and set a kiss to her cheek, just brushing the corner of her mouth.
Brittany gasped at the contact, not expecting those sweet lips to be so close. She watched as Santana pulled back, her face fixed with desire and then, leant forward again, pleading for permission that Brittany granted immediately as she captured their lips together for the first time ever. Brittany's heart jolted. Santana's kiss was gentle, sweeter than wine. Her mouth was soft and her tongue, which teased upon Brittany's bottom lip was resolute as the youngster finally opened up to accept it, meeting her own tongue with a moan of utter contentment.
Tugging the Latina close, Brittany felt Santana climb onto the bed to straddle her hips, her hands moving everywhere as they continued to nip and suck at each other, breathing heavily, trying to shift into proximity.
Brittany whimpered, feeling true fulfilment in this moment. She could feel Santana's excitement burning into her skin. It was so good. It made her mind reel and her pulse leap irregularly.
"Hmm, you've no idea how long I've wanted this," Santana crooned. Her hands skimmed up the texture of Brittany's legs and hoisted under her dress, dragging up her thighs and getting closer and closer to her womanhood. The blonde yelped out in surprise, not expecting the intimacy so soon. Santana, realising she'd gone too far jumped off of her, looking wounded by the rejection.
"We can't do this," Brittany said, shaking her head.
"What? Of course we can. I –"
"No Santana," Brittany said in determination, "we can't. This isn't right. This is sick."
"Sick?" Santana stepped back as though she had been scolded, "what happened to us caring about each other? You said so yourself."
"You know it's not right," Brittany mumured. She tried to get up but the pain in her back prevented her, "caring about someone is one thing. Wanting to be with them in an intimate way is another. What we feel is wrong. We're not meant to want this."
Santana sighed softly, "but we do want it."
"We can't be close. It's a sin."
"It's a sin to deny yourself of what you want," Santana hissed.
"No," Brittany cried, shaking her head, "feeling these things...wanting you...is a sin and the only way I can purge myself of this disgusting behaviour is to leave this godforsaken ship and marry David Karofsky."
Santana's heart broke then. Brittany could see it in her eyes and the way her body shuddered. She turned to look away from the blonde, sighed and nodded.
"Very well. I'll try and keep my repulsive urges to myself from now on," her voice cracked as she stepped back, heading towards the door, "let's hope you can do the same Miss."
Brittany missed Santana. She missed their fleeting glances and drawn-out touches. She yearned for the sultriness of the woman's voice and the way she was gentle with only her. She longed for their time together in the afternoon when they would read together. She desired their discussions about nothing and everything. She missed her lips. She missed her kindness.
She missed her.
Brittany almost refused when Will came with a request from the Captain, inviting her to share dinner with her later in the evening. She couldn't quite believe that Santana had asked and felt foolish in even considering to attend. Then, on further consideration and wanting to be on speaking terms again, Brittany relented against her better judgement and hoped Santana would soon be able to forgive her.
Brittany paced back and forth nervously in her room, waiting for Santana to arrive, wondering whether she ever would. She hated feeling so uneasy but it was understandable. Brittany and Santana always had dinner with the crew and so for them to be together after what had recently happened with no one to break the awkward silences was uncomfortable to even consider. What if more arguments broke out between them? What if they screamed so loud at one another the whole of El Tiburón Oscuro heard them and knew what they had done? The thought made Brittany's stomach twist up into knots. It unsettled her.
A cautious tapping at the door alerted the youngster's senses. Turning and brushing down any creases in her dress, Brittany cleared her throat and called for the person to enter. A moment later the door swung open and Santana stepped inside the dimly lit room, looking nervous indeed.
Not much could be said from the women. Brittany shuffled back and forth from leg to leg, biting down anxiously on her bottom lip, watching Santana as she wandered across the room to the crystal decanters.
"Drink?" Santana asked.
"Please," Brittany nodded and she sat in one of the armchairs and waited as the Latina poured a sufficient amount of rum into two silver goblets.
"I'm surprised you agreed to this dinner," Santana said. She handed Brittany her goblet and sat on the edge of the table so they were closer than was necessary, "I thought you hated me."
Brittany sipped at her rum, feeling its warmth slip down her chest, "I couldn't hate you," she admitted quietly and then quieter again, "I've missed you."
Santana smiled and sighed sadly, "are you sure you're allowed to say that to me?" she said mockingly, "God wouldn't approve."
"Don't treat me like a child Santana," Brittany scolded, "I don't like it."
Santana shrugged complacently and took a hearty drink. She kept glancing in Brittany's direction as though making sure she didn't disappear anytime soon. Her searing stare left Brittany's legs wavering.
"You look very pretty," Santana said after a few seconds of brief silence, "I've not seen this dress before." She reached out to touch the bottom of the dress but before she could make some sort of a move, Brittany jumped up, shifting away. She didn't want to be close. She couldn't risk it. She wanted her too much.
"It's one of the dresses you brought back from the harbour," she muttered. Looking down, she took to admiring her attire, a light blue flouncy dress with weaves of white material and a dark blue sash that tied around the back.
"It suits you," Santana said, disappointed that Brittany had rejected her again, "matches your eyes."
Brittany's cheeks flushed pink but she was saved from answering by Will who knocked on the door and let himself in, pushing a small cart filled with an assortment of food – fruit and bread, salted peasant (or perhaps it was chicken?), cheese and dried vegetables.
"Dinner is served. Enjoy," he said and he left with a bow.
"Hmm, smell's delicious," Santana said. She took a hasty sip of her rum, took hold of Brittany's hand and dragged her across to the cart.
While the Latina piled the plates with a little bit of everything Brittany took the time to admire her dinner date. Santana was dressed much like she always did. Her ruffled shirt rested beneath a black long jacket and her grey breeches clung to her little legs, making them look longer than was feasibly possible. Her black boots were polished to absolute perfection, the buckles gleaming. Her hair was arranged into pretty curls as though she had actually combed it and her face was clean and clear, her hard features grafted in a way that made her even more striking.
"Ahem," looking up, the anxious blonde found Santana smiling at her. She handed over a plate crammed with food, "you're welcome." Brittany didn't know whether she was speaking about the meal or her own beautiful body but she was thankful for both, "how's your back by the way?"
"Better," she replied, sitting, "it doesn't hurt so much now though the bruising is quite alarming."
Santana nodded, "I wish there was something I could do to make it feel a little better. It is my fault, after all, that you're hurt in the first place."
"It's nothing. Makes me feel like I'm one of the crew," Brittany chuckled. Their conversation was very timid and reserved and she wasn't sure if she liked it, "feels like I've earned my place."
"You earned your place the second we kidnapped you," Santana laughed. She took a slice of bread and held it up for Brittany expectantly. The youngster looked at her in confusion before reaching down to take a delicate nibble.
"I'm sorry for what I said the other night," Brittany muttered, swallowing the piece of bread, "it was cruel."
Santana busied herself, cutting a piece of peasant and bringing it to her lips hungrily. She shook her head, looking gloomy and doubtful, "don't apologise for things you don't mean Brittany. It won't ease how I feel."
"But that's the thing," Brittany sighed miserably, "I don't know how I feel myself."
"But you feel something," Santana insisted.
Brittany closed her eyes, "yes."
"And have you felt this way about your supposed betrothed?" Santana asked popping an apple slice in her mouth.
Brittany shook her head.
"Have you felt this way about anyone?" She continued to encourage.
"Only you," the blonde sighed softly and she knew that although it felt wrong in her head, it felt right in her gut.
Santana seemed to take the response as permission. She set her plate aside and lifted herself up onto her knees. She took Brittany's plate also and placed it beside her own before leaning up and immediately capturing her mouth in a masterful kiss. Brittany struggled for a moment, taken completely by surprise. Unable to free herself from Santana's commanding hold on her senses and the compelling excitement of her kiss, she opened her mouth and answered the demand. Santana, having won the small battle, savoured her spoils to the full, nipping and moaning happily.
Brittany could hardly believe Santana's daring. She could feel the Latina's hand through the thickness of her dress, following the curve of her breast. It made her stomach clench and her heart lurch drunkenly. It felt too good to be true. Why was it so fantastic?
When the need to breathe became evident, the women pulled apart and Santana took the time of separation to nuzzle and nibble down to the pulse of Brittany's neck. Gasping and arching up, Brittany ignored the pain in her back and completely melted into Santana's touch, wondering dazedly how so light a touch could cause such exquisite delight.
Santana's hand suddenly stilled.
"Look at me Brittany," she demanded, "look at me."
Brittany lifted her heavy eyelids, fine blue eyes looking into deep black orbs. How could she have rejected this beautiful woman? How had she denied her feelings for this long?
"Do you want me to stop?" Santana asked.
Part of the youngster knew quite clearly that if she said yes and meant it, Santana would but the truth was, she didn't want her to stop. Over the years of living she had repressed her natural urge to love and be loved by any person, man or woman. She'd built a cool, defensive wall to hide behind while she waited for the right opportunity to come along and now when considering everything, she was wrong.
Clearly losing patience, Santana gripped the soft flesh of the blonde's upper arms, giving her a slight shake. "Do you want me to stop Brittany?"
With a sigh, she shook her head.
Beautiful black eyes turned darker again, "so there'll be no mistake. I want to hear you say it out loud."
"I...I don't want you to stop."
"If we go on now," Santana said, "there'll be no turning back."
Brittany nodded," I know," she answered softly.
Santana still didn't look all that convinced. Raising an eyebrow, the Captain leant back a little to give Brittany space and said in a sultry voice, "in that case, suppose you take off your dress."
It was a challenge and knowing she'd come too far to turn back, she accepted it. Standing up, she kept her gaze locked with Santana's and turned to unbutton the front of her dress, tugging at the garment and dropping it at her feet with a resigned defeated sigh. She felt foolish and exposed as Santana's eyes ran down her body, still encased in its pretty corset, waiting to be unwrapped and explored.
"You're the loveliest thing I've ever seen," Santana murmured hungrily. She stepped towards Brittany and slipped her arms around her waist, kissing her gently and pressing into her. They moaned together then, entangled in each other, wrapped in one another's arms as they tried to get close.
Brittany allowed her hands to delve beneath Santana's jacket yanking and pulling, eager to undress her much the same. The Latina giggled and stopped her exploration of Brittany's neck to lift her arms above her head so as to discard the piece of clothing. It fell to the floor beside Brittany's dress, forgotten.
"Come," Santana said softly. She led Brittany over to the bed, pushing her down gently so as not to hurt her. Then, kicking off her boots, she crawled onto the bed and lay above her soon-to-be-lover, supporting herself as she peppered gentle love gestures to anywhere that she could reach on her body.
Brittany felt like magic. She brushed her hands up and around Santana's shirt, all but tearing at the material eagerly.
"Patience," Santana chuckled. She sat up and removed her shirt, leaving herself completely exposed to the world. Brittany looked up wide eyed and surprised, taking in the softness of the woman's breasts and how small and pert they were. She couldn't help herself from reaching out to cup them, watching in wonderment as Santana hissed with clenched teeth, leaning into her and pleading for more.
Everything was so intimate and heightened. Electricity surged into them as they rubbed against one another, enjoying each other, brushing and thrusting, trying to please and receive at the same time. Brittany had no idea what she was doing but from the way Santana cried out, she knew it was right. Rubbing her thumb pad against the Latina's nipple, she watched with fascination as it hardened and responded, knowing her hands and needing them.
"Don't stop," Santana gasped, "please."
Brittany obeyed, feeling her arousal growing with desperation as she touched Santana. The Captain's hands were around the back of her corset, untying and unknotting until finally, it came free with a snap. Pushing it aside, Brittany found herself to be completely naked and under the dark, wanting gaze of Santana.
"Do you want me to touch you?" the Latina asked tenderly as she kicked off the rest of her clothes.
Nodding meekly, Brittany nuzzled her nose into Santana's neck and waited. Then...she was there, touching her everywhere...her breasts, her curves, her thighs and then, with two fingers, inside her womanhood. Brittany panted and bucked up; relishing the way Santana's fingers filled her so delightfully. She kissed at her lover's neck, her feelings intensifying and spread her legs further apart, thrusting up as Santana pushed down. Her feminine walls were clenching and her cries were growing louder and louder. Sweat poured from their bodies. It was amazing. It felt too good for words.
"San...Santana," Brittany whimpered, "I need...ugh..."
Something hot spread between Brittany's legs. Shuddering, her body pooled and she collapsed back, heaving and gasping and trying to catch her breath. She understood that the experience hadn't lasted long but she was young and inexperienced and had expected it.
Santana smiled and giggled in satisfaction. She leant down and kissed the blonde, whispering promises of adoration and care. Brittany, so exhausted and sated, nestled into her and allowed herself to be lulled into the land of dreams.
The last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep was Santana, crooning lovingly into her ear.
Midnight passed and Brittany lay beside Santana, watching her sleep peacefully. Outside the window the ocean whispered peacefully, singing its approval of what had occurred between the two women. It was strange, but Brittany had expected regret to come after the act of lovemaking and yet, she felt nothing but true and real contentment. In fact, she couldn't wait to return the favour to Santana. She wanted to know how it felt to be inside her. She wanted to make her feel as good as she had felt.
If someone had told her a few months ago that she, Brittany Susan Pierce, renowned Lady and innocent child would be lying beside the hard but gentle cut-throat villain Santana Lopez as a willing and passionate lover, she would've thought them mad...but here she was. Willing. Passionate. Driven with the need for more. Brittany found she liked being sinful, she liked the sea and she most definitely liked having a pirate for a lover.
Wow. Exhausted. 33 pages. I know. It's long. I guess I didn't want it to be written in chapters because then I would've had 3 stories going instead of 2 and I don't think I could handle that. I hope someone at least reviews otherwise I've wasted all my time with this. haha.
Part 2 will be up soon enough I hope and don't worry; I'll make sure to write Brittany returning the favour for all you smut lovers out there. Please. Review. I worked really hard on this. I'll try and update 'I See You' and 'Enslavement' soon.