Author's Note. This story was written for this prompt.
AU Coach Sylvester hires a 20-something dance instructor named Brittany S. Pierce to teach the Cheerios some new moves. Santana falls hard and pursues her relentlessly...
I decided the idea was too good for a one shot so here it is:)
Dance With Me
"Five, Six, Seven, Eight! C'mon ladies, move it! Forget it. This uncoordinated flailing that you're trying to pass off as choreography is appalling and I can't stand to look at it any longer. Hit the showers so that you can wash off the overwhelming stench of failure that is currently permeating my nostrils!"
Santana breathed out a sigh of relief as she made her way up towards the school. She was baking in the unseasonably warm weather and could already feel her hair curling in the humidity.
Cheerios practice had never been her favorite part of the day, but lately Sue had been on the warpath with Nationals right around the corner.
It had been particularly hard for her because she'd been made head cheerleader for her senior year, and so the pressure was on to make sure the team succeeded.
As she tilted her head back, chugging gratefully on the bottle of water Quinn had just shoved into her hands, she squinted as the evening sun beat down on her aching body mercilessly.
"Lopez! My office. 20 minutes."
Santana coughed loudly at the sound of her name, choking violently on her water. She sighed heavily, running a hand across her sweaty brow, and nodded wearily at her coach.
Her after practice meetings with Sue had been becoming more frequent and rather than strategizing about nationals, the time was mainly spent berating Santana in one way or another.
"Hey. Rough practice, huh?" Quinn offered, nudging Santana gently as they entered the locker room. Santana smiled weakly back at her best friend, taking a seat on the wooden bench and stripping off her socks and shoes.
"Yeah, but coach is right. Our choreography does suck. We'll never win nationals again with that shitty routine."
Quinn rolled her eyes and stripped off her t-shirt leaving her clad in nothing but her cheer shorts and matching sports bra. The sweat glistened off of her toned stomach and Santana was having more trouble than usual keeping her leering in check.
"Hey! Earth to Lopez! Eyes are up here hot stuff," Quinn said with a satisfied smirk. She was one of the few people at McKinley who knew that Santana "played for the other team," and she never had any qualms teasing her about it.
"You know, I think I get why you don't like the routine we've got," Quinn declared cryptically, walking off towards the showers with a smug grin as she waited for Santana to take the bait.
She paused to grab a towel of a shelf and counted exactly three seconds before the Latina was trotting over to her.
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Santana demanded as Quinn stifled a giggle.
"Oh you know, not enough "spirit fingers," Quinn supplied devilishly, accompanying her words with a suggestive wiggle of her middle and ring fingers to drive her point home.
The look of sheer horror on Santana's face as she frantically checked that they hadn't been overheard was enough to drive the blonde over the edge and into a fit of laughter.
Santana rounded on Quinn, doubled over, clutching the shelf for support, and glared at her briefly before softening and punching her friend playfully.
"Fuck you, Fabray."
Quinn, who had finally managed to drag in a few calming breaths, winked at her and trailed a finger lightly across Santana's collarbone before she breathed, "And here I was thinking I wasn't your type."
Santana gaped, face flushing at the implications despite the complete ridiculousness of the whole thing as Quinn tossed the towel over her shoulder and sauntered away.
"I fucking hate when you do that," Santana called after her over the sound of the water and she could hear Quinn's cackling bouncing off the shower walls as she returned to her locker and readied herself for the meeting with Sue.
Santana didn't bother with showering as she'd probably have been late to the meeting after all the time she wasted on Quinn and her antics.
She grabbed a clean pair of sweats and a tight hoodie, slipping them on before tossing her sneakers into her gym bag and stepping into a pair of flip flops.
Santana turned to the mirror Coach Sylvester had all the girls keep in their lockers and groaned loudly, "Ugh. I look like complete and utter shit."
Her face was smudged with dirt and her hair was slick and greasy from sweat. Her makeup was completely gone and eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them so much; allergy season was a bitch.
Determining that it'd be better put in some effort, she quickly pulled out her hair tie, fluffing her hair a little before re-securing it into the signature Cheerios ponytail.
Looking in the mirror she could see the finer hairs framing her face hanging loose and but decided that there was nothing she could do about that without a decent hair straightener.
Santana ran a brush through her ends and moved over to the sink to wash the dirt from her face. It wasn't until she'd lathered and rinsed that she realized she didn't have a towel.
"Fuck," she cursed, although she wasn't quite sure who or what she was cursing.
Luckily for Santana, the locker room was mostly deserted so no one was around to witness her blindly feeling her way along the rows of lockers until she stumbled into the towel rack.
She reached out to snag one of the fluffy white towels, knocking down 3 others in the process, and dabbed the droplets of water from her face.
Finally satisfied, she threw the towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (it was the freshmen's jobs to be concerned with whether she missed or not), grabbed her things and set off to her daily emotional flogging.
Santana took a deep breath as she approached Sue's office. It wasn't like she had done any worse that day than she usually did. Not saying that she usually did poorly, just that she shouldn't have been any more afraid than any other.
She lightly rapped on the door and waited to be called in, or rather insulted in. After a few moments passed without a response, Santana raised her hand to knock again but she never got the chance.
"Enter; sometime today if it's not too much inconvenience on your pathetic adolescent existence." Santana rolled her eyes one last time before pushing into the office.
"Hey airbags, I'm sorry I didn't answer you," Sue said with a smile, and Santana was frozen in place. Aside from the offhand comment about her "summer surgery," that was the most pleasant sentence her coach had ever directed at her.
Not only was it rare for Coach Sylvester to address her cordially, but coupling it with a smile was just unheard of.
"I…Uh," Santana began, blinking in disbelief, but Sue cut her off.
"I wasn't sure if it was you or a woodpecker going through an identity crisis with the timid, sheepish manner in which you assaulted the fine Mahogany of my office door. Sturdy door that is, chopped down the tree myself," she offered wistfully before yelling, "Sit," and gesturing to the faded couch on the far side of the office.
Santana groaned internally and moved over to sit on the ratty couch in the corner. It looked and smelled like it had been put through a carwash, but pulled out halfway through and never dried thoroughly.
There were several mysterious stains in varying dimensions of gray and brown and the musty air that rose from it when she dropped her bag was enough to send her stomach churning.
Nevertheless, Santana perched herself gingerly on the edge, doing her best to hide her discomfort. Coach had never asked her to sit down before, especially not anywhere other than the two chairs situated in front of her desk, and it worried her.
Santana bit her lip as she waited anxiously for the break in the tension; a break that never came. She couldn't be certain, but Santana figured she'd been sitting on the couch for at least 20 minutes while Coach Sylvester milled around her desk doing odd things in an uncharacteristic silence.
Her cell phone was poking out of the side pocket on her Cheerios bag, but Santana didn't dare take it out to check the time, lest it be mistaken for texting. The last time someone dared to text in Sue's presence, they'd been off the squad before the message even sent.
That girl had a 4G network; you do the math.
Santana resigned herself to sitting idly and staring out the window. She actually had a decent view of the field and she could see the sun hanging lowly in the sky, signaling that it was at least past 6 by this point.
Just as she had worked up the nerve to speak, a loud knocking echoed across the room, and if Santana hadn't known any better, she would've sworn that the corners of Sue's mouth turned up ever so slightly at the disturbance.
"Jugs! Answer the door." Santana was broken out of her daze when she heard one of the many nicknames she'd been bestowed since her surgery and quickly scrambled over to open the door.
As soon as she did, a breeze of blonde hair flew past her and around the desk to Coach Sylvester. Santana almost fainted when she saw the visitor pull her coach, the same coach who could make nuns cry, into a vice like hug.
It was even more noteworthy that Sue hugged back, tentatively, but hugged all the same.
"Ahh, it's about time you got here. You've missed practice. I was beginning to worry you'd gotten lost…again," Sue offered casually to the blonde.
"Yeah, I kind of did. You told me to come to 'McKinley,' but did you know that the middle and elementary schools are named 'McKinley' also?" the blonde exclaimed with wide eyes, as if she was revealing some amazing secret.
"Really? I didn't know. I would've been more specific," Sue replied and Santana stood gaping in the doorway at the exchange.
As if Sue just remembered she was there, she looked up abruptly and shouted, "Shut the door, Lopez and take a seat. No. Not there; in front of my desk."
Santana hurried over the chairs and sat down, finally taking the opportunity to really look at the woman standing next to her coach.
She was tall; statuesque would be the better word. The way she stood just exuded a certain sense of grace and self assuredness. It was an aura that Santana had struggled to channel her entire life, and gazing upon the blonde beauty in front of her, she hoped someday she'd be able to do so as effortlessly.
The woman was dressed in a pair of denim shorts that hugged her curves in all the right ways and a simple white tank top that fit a little too snugly in the chest area, making it clear that she wasn't wearing a bra.
Santana could see the shirt clinging to the woman's tanned skin where sweat had collected and it somehow made her look sexier.
Her hair was long and wavy, pulled back into loose ponytail with only her side swept bangs flowing freely and framing her face. Her smooth skin had a golden, sun kissed look; like she'd just spent the last week on a beach somewhere.
Santana was unashamedly running her eyes over this vision of beauty; over her long, lean legs, her toned arms, and her full breasts where she could see the ghost of a nipple poking through the tight top.
This was by far the most breathtaking woman she had ever seen and Santana wished with all her heart that she had put on some lip gloss, some eyeliner, anything to counteract the disgusting after practice grunge look she was currently sporting.
She blushed heavily when she looked and met sparkling pools of blue eyeing her curiously.
After a beat, the woman smirked at her knowingly and Santana knew that if she hadn't already been seated, she would've gone weak at the knees because of it. She smiled back weakly, blushing even further when the woman's smirk shifted into a beaming smile.
Sue opened her mouth to speak, apparently oblivious to the exchange, but the woman beat her to it.
"Hi! I'm Brittany!" she bubbled, staring pointedly at Santana and she couldn't help but return the smile just as enthusiastically. She was snapped out of her trance at the sound of her coach speaking.
"I was just about to say that Brittany. Calm yourself. This is Santana Lopez. She's the head cheerleader at McKinley. Pamela, this is Brittany. She's a dance major over at the university and she's going to be choreographing our new routine for Nationals."
Santana was stunned. Coach Sylvester had never before hired a choreographer and she could only assume it was because the choreography she had approved really wasn't good enough.
She'd known it wasn't the best, but she hadn't honestly believed that coach would change it so close to competition. Santana was pulled from her thoughts as Brittany made a small coughing noise and her face morphed into the most adorable picture of confusion that she had ever seen.
"Uh, I thought you said her name was…uh…Santana," she began, stealing a covert glance at the Latina as she spoke her name. "Who's Pamela?"
Santana wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but something in her just wanted to make sure Brittany understood. It was almost as if some protective instinct she wasn't aware she even had, had kicked in and she had to alleviate the blonde's confusion.
"She…I mean, Coach Sylvester means Pamela, as in Pamela Anderson…." Santana trailed off, hoping that that would be enough and she wouldn't have to explicitly say what Sue was alluding to.
She'd never been ashamed of her boob job, but for some reason she didn't want Brittany to know.
Santana knew she had only gotten them because she was insecure and, to Brittany, she wanted to look confident and collected. What she would come to learn in time, was that almost everything had to be spelled out for the blonde.
When Brittany's puzzled look only deepened, Santana pointed to her breasts and sighed, "We have a few things in common. You know?"
Santana watched as Brittany's eyes traveled down her body and settled on her cleavage. She watched as Brittany subconsciously licked her lips before tugging her bottom one between her teeth.
She watched as Brittany bright blue eyes noticeably darkened as she gazed unwaveringly at her full chest. She watched as Brittany subtly crossed her ankles and watched as the blonde's defined thigh muscles tensed in slow and nearly imperceptible rhythm.
A pinkish flush washed over Brittany's features as she finally met Santana's eyes again and breathed out, "Yeah. I got it."
"Great. Now that we've settled that, let's get back to business. Brittany is going to be coming to practices every afternoon from now on and a few mornings whenever she can. I'm putting it to you, Lopez, to make sure she feels comfortable and that learns her way around the school. Understood?"
Santana couldn't breathe as she nodded and squeaked a timid, "Yes, Coach." Brittany was still watching her, with wide eyes, and Santana could feel her face heating up from the attention.
Sue had begun filling Brittany in on the basic mechanics of the squad and what kind of routine she wanted, so with Brittany distracted, Santana took the opportunity to continue shamelessly appreciating the blonde's form.
When Brittany turned to look out the window as Sue gestured towards the field, Santana got an eyeful of her toned back and full ass, causing her to now bite her own lip to keep from moaning.
If the Latina had had any doubt in her mind that she was gay, the woman had cleared it up completely. There was no denying that she was attracted to Brittany and from the way the blonde had so obviously checked her out, Santana thought that maybe Brittany was feeling the same.
The idea itself and the thoughts that were popping up in Santana's head along with it had her squirming uncomfortably in her seat as she waited to be dismissed.
"Alright. I think we'll call it an evening, airbags. I'm sure you need to get going down to the gas station to refill before the air pump shuts off for the night," Sue declared, and Santana practically jumped up to grab her things from the musty couch.
She exited the office and it was only a few seconds before she heard jogging steps behind her and felt a soft hand on her lower back, sending shivers of her spine.
"Hey. I'm Brittany," she said smiling, and Santana laughed in spite of herself.
"I know that. We just met a few minutes ago," Santana smiled, but Brittany just stared at her, unflinching and waiting. She sighed, "Hi. I'm Santana," and at the Brittany threw her a dazzling smile.
"I just thought we should properly introduce ourselves since we'll be spending a lot of time together," Brittany shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess," Santana chuckled nervously. She noticed that Brittany still hadn't removed her hand from the small of her back and the tingling sensation spreading through her body was a little distracting.
It seemed that Brittany realized in that moment too, because she hastily snatched her hand away and began twiddling her fingers timidly.
They stood in the deserted hallway together for a while in an awkward silence; the only sounds around them coming from their own breaths and the distant hum of a vacuum cleaner. Janitor Kidney apparently didn't bring his "teapot" to school that day and could actually do his job.
"Well uh, I'd better get home then," Santana offered awkwardly, shuffling her foot against the linoleum and looking anywhere but Brittany's eyes.
"See you tomorrow?" Brittany said, looking up hopefully.
Santana only smiled, locking eyes with her as she reached out to touch Brittany's arm briefly. She let the touch linger for a moment, gauging the blonde's reaction, before letting her fingers caress the soft skin lightly as she pulled away.
"See you tomorrow."
Hope you enjoyed it and I'd love to hear your thoughts on where this could go:) Reviews are like instant smiles!