Title: Ship Of Dreams

Pairing: Brittany/Santana – Brittana, Quinn/Rachel – Faberry (eventual), Finn/Brittany – Fritt, Binn? (I don't know what you'd call them)

Summary: Loosely based off the story and film Titanic. Santana, by a streak of luck gets two tickets to the grandest ship. Along with her, her friend Lucy "Quinn" Fabray embark on the journey to New York unaware of what will lie ahead.

Disclaimer: Do not own Titanic nor Glee, just the writing.

There has been two graphics circling around Tumblr lately about Brittany and Santana on Titanic. Everyone is talking about how it needs to be written into a fic. I've been thinking about it and holding off, until finally I just couldn't let go of the idea.

April, 14th, 1922 – New York City, New York

It was called the ship of dreams.

And yet the more that harbored Brittany's mindset the less it felt that way. She's been there. She's seen the fate of the Titanic and the fate of thousands of people. Some didn't try, others tried and failed to survive. It was no wonder she couldn't call it 'the ship of dreams' when it turned into such a nightmare.

Brittany lived in her rather dinky apartment in New York City. It's been ten years since that horrible day when the Titanic sank. But here she was sitting upon her small, twin sized bed, so you could imagine she made it out safely. The entirety of that situation was false, but she didn't sink to the bottom like majority of the passengers.

For a short time she regretted ever getting on that boat to embark on such a journey to a new life, but just a little over a year ago her regrets faltered as she thought about all that had happened in those four days at sea. What she imagined. What she accomplished. And what she discovered. All of this and more—things that seemed so petty back in her younger years. Sure, she was only twenty-seven, hardly middle aged, but she knew now what she didn't know then—and that was that there's another life outside of these cramped walls she was succumbed to ever since she was a little girl. The world seemed far less suffocating and it was all thanks to one person.

That one person—who she never thought she'd ever associate with, at least not to her mother's standards. But it was a little bit more than association. She smiled at the memory of their touch, of their kiss—she longed for it again as her mind sifted back to the first day.

April 10th, 1912 – Southhampton, UK

Chaos filled the streets of the port of onlookers to see the grandest ship to ever set sail to the seas. Others were staff and awaiting passengers to get upon this large scale and embark on their new lives. America is the freest country, don't you know? Who wouldn't want to live there for a better opportunity?

Cars and carriages seemed to have the worst time trying to get through as they drop off the high class passengers and carry their luggage away to the boat. Among these cars, a set of four people arrive and out steps a tall, dark haired man, with a very wide smile—no doubt amazed at the grand ship before him.

He rounds the corner and opens the door for the other passengers, while his guard, who is also considered his closest ally talks to awaiting staff about baggage. He pulls the door open and outstretches a long arm that is covered by pure white gloves. He takes it gently and out comes a tall blonde, dressed with such elegancy.

She smiles graciously at him as he returns it with adoration. She had the most piercing blue eyes that has ever been seen, especially when the sunlight kissed her skin and blonde locks. She shined like an angel would—because to some, if not most she could pass as one.

She casted her eyes upon the Titanic for the first time and she had to admit that she couldn't understand the hype about it. Sure it was grand in stature, but she wasn't the least bit impressed—it just looked like a ship to her. Maybe she liked simplicity because this ship was definitely not it.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently and behind her stood her soon to be husband. She placed one of her hands above his in a soothing manner.

"What do you think my love?" He asked with his still broad smile visible.

She sighed in contentment. "Would you like my honest opinion?" She moved her stare up at him and he turned his head away from the ship to give her his attention—he nodded like it should be obvious that he valued her opinion. "I don't see what all the hype is about. It just looks like another ship,"

He takes his hands away from her shoulders and looks at her in bewilderment. "Just another ship? Brittany, this is the Titanic. It's the unsinkable ship, not even God himself could sink this ship," he points towards it and she looks right back at it. Her lips went tight and she sighed, before shrugging gently.

He laughs slightly, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on her head. "You will enjoy this journey, just you wait," he assures her before walking off to help his guard with some business. As he walks away, Brittany and her mother take their first strides towards the ship so they can get situated before it's ready to leave port.

"Hold still," she grumbled under her breath to the blonde sitting next to her, not daring to move her eyes away from her hand. She's got a good one, but she's a bluffer. She refuses to let her opponents know her truths—she deceives them with those eyes; those dark brown eyes that are as dark as chocolate.

"I can't help it," the blonde responds as her leg continues what looks like a jittery nervous reaction. This is the last hand and sure her and her mate have won quite a bit of cash—cash that they need, but this time it's different. The man before them just bet away two tickets to the Titanic, so you can imagine the blonde's nervous state. But the dark haired beauty, on the other hand was far from nervous. She remained poise and collected—someone had to be.

"Lucy!" there's a yell that snaps the blonde from her hand. "Back to work, c'mon now!" her boss told her as she sighed heavily. She hated that man for calling her by her first name. She hated her parents even more for naming her that.

"This is the last hand, I'll be there shortly," she responds with a slight tone that went unnoticed to him. She turned her eyes back to the cards—she had nothing and she knew this, but that was the point. She had nothing, no good hand, a shitty job, and barely any money to get by. All she had was her friend that sat with her eyes fixed on the cards in her own hands.

"No Lucy, now!" she heard him yell again. She needed this job, so she couldn't make her boss anymore displeased than he already was. She nods at him with her lips tight in a snarl, before he turned away.

"I fold anyway," she tells the two and places them down face down, before looking over at her caramel skinned friend. "Нам нужны эти билеты Сантана," she whispers to her, forcing her friend to finally look up.

Santana smirked at her gently, before responding calmly, non-stressed tone. "No se preocupe. Él tiene miedo en sus ojos y que sin embargo no lo hacen. Volver a trabajar y te prometo que voy a tener buenas noticias para usted más tarde," she replies in a totally different language. Lucy looks at her with slight worry, before nodding and getting up from her seat.

Santana turns back to the man sitting before her. "It's your bet," she tells him as he looks up at her. He licks his lips, before placing some money down then looks back at her with a smirk. She knows he's trying to bluff her out of her own game, but she knows better. It won't work and she refuses to let it faze her.

She bets one last time, not much, but she bets—she doesn't have much money to give, so she tries her best to not waste it. Well with Lucy's job and her singing on the corners for some strangers. They're lucky enough to even have food for the night.

The man puts his cards down with a satisfied smile, crossing his arms just to wait for the chance to con a young, attractive girl out of her money. "Well Mike that is quite the hand. Three pair—not bad, not bad indeed," she commends him and he takes it in with grace, before she places her hand down.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm just a little better at you at this game. Say greetings to my full house," she tells him. His smile fades and his eyes widen. He has to look over the table to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He looks back up with his mouth jarred in disbelief. Santana smirks at this reaction—milking every bit of it.

"You told me you couldn't play! You gypsy!" He yells angrily, before she laughs heartedly.

"Oh the contrary Mike, I am not a gypsy. I'm just a liar when it comes to money and apparently tickets. But listen, I didn't steal it. I won fair and square, therefore you shouldn't be such a sore loser," she retorts, scooping the money into her hands and placing it in her pocket, before grasping her hands on the tickets. "Mike, Mike, Mike, what would your wife say when she discovers your little trade?" She smirks, before rising from the table as Mike sulks in his sorrows.

Her smirk never falters as she walks towards the bar right as Lucy comes out with a tray in tow. She sighs heavily—she was sweating and she just felt absolutely filthy, therefore she desperately hated this job. As she notices Santana approaching her, she quickly gives two customers their drinks and politely tells them to enjoy, before turning back to Santana.

"Well how did it go?" She rubbed her hands dry on her apron, before walking back towards the bar.

Santana shrugged slightly. "Well it was tough and I mean—at least we made off with about ten dollars," she told her in a gloomy state.

Quinn down casts her eyes before raising them to fix on her friend. "Santana, you told me you could handle it! You told me that you would be able to get the tickets and we could leave this god forsaken country! I want to go home okay? I want to have a better life in America, you know where we're both born and raised for fuck sakes!" She belts out in fury. She was at her wits end with this place. Why she even left America to begin with, she'll never know. Maybe for a sense of adventure or responsibility—whatever the reasons were, she hated to think, but she felt stupid for wanting to come here.

"Quinn, look I'm sorry!" Santana plays along, before finally coming clean. "You're going to have to quit your job because we're going back to America!" She yells to her enthusiastically, popping the tickets out from her back pocket to flash into the blonde's face. Quinn's mouth gaps at them and grabs one, before pulling her apron off and tossing it on the counter.

Just as she does so, her boss runs out to see what all the commotion is about. "Lucy! Apron needs to be on at all times!" He roars with a scowl. He hates having to tell the girl countless times of her mishaps.

She turns around to him and smiles. "I quit because I'm going to America," she tells him before turning back to Santana.

"La, la, la, la, la America, la, la, la, la, la America," they sing in unison as they dance happily to bask in on their winnings. Quinn even grabs the hat off the top of an older man's head and places it on her own—it's a snug fit, as she dances around the table. He gawks at her with amusement, before their celebration is cut short with the man speaking.

"Titanic leaves for America in five minutes," they stop short, before glancing at the wall clock. Their eyes widen in horror—they could not miss this ship. So Santana runs out of the pub with a duffle in tow while Quinn places the hat gently back on the man's head, before running behind the bar to grab her things, then off to catch up to Santana, who wasn't that far ahead.

Finally catching up to one another, they run through the large crowd of people and carriages, before Santana's excitement begins to set in. "We are the luckiest son of bitches in the world, you know that?" She tells the blonde, who nods while she continues running.

"We won't be if we don't get there in time, so keep up," she retorts, before they run through the final bit of the crowd. As soon as they get a clear view of the ship and its bridge, they spot one of the shipmen about ready to close the door. They speed fast up the bridge, yelling for him to stop.

"Have you been through the inspection?" He asks, looking at their tickets and their states. Both breathing tirelessly and slightly disheveled.

"Of course and at any rate we're American—both of us," Quinn replies to him as he does a double take at Santana.

"Speak," he commands to her. She gets a look of confusion on her face. Why does she have to speak? She was positive foreigners were on board.

"What would you like me to say, sir?" She asked, before he waved for them to go in, so he could close the doors. Apparently that question alone was enough for him as she spoke fluently and with no accent.

The boat roared as it begins to leave port. People on the deck of the ship wave goodbye to those still on the port's deck. It was likely that nobody knew anyone they waved at, but everyone clearly had turned up for the ship's take off for its maiden voyage.

In the first class suites, Brittany read carefully from one of the many poetry books she brought along for the journey. She imagined during her down time, she could engross herself in such material. Everything seemed so much simpler when she read poetry. So many men and women had such a fluent way of putting a simple feeling or object into an in depth perspective—it captivated her. But then again, she's never met such people, so the only way to believe in its existence was to read the work of these artists.

She dreamt of creating her own, but every time she's tried it never seemed to flow as well as the ones she's read. When her eyes took in the words that flowed from page to page, she understood—most were about love, the kind of love she desperately craved for.

Granted yes, she was engaged to be married to the dashing Finn Hudson in the next few days when they made it to New York, but that wasn't something she wanted. He was security—her mother adored that, but that didn't seem to catch her interest nearly as much. For once, she wanted to be able to live life spontaneously and not know where she'll end up with someone she cared about dearly, but she knows that would never happen because Finn is a very wealthy man—he would take care of her financially.

"She always engrosses herself in such fantasy material," Brittany could hear the man she was about to marry talking openly about her, but she just showed disinterest. She was aware of his and her mother's stares in her direction, but she didn't feel like being judged.

"I suppose it keeps her sane," she hears the reply from the woman who birthed her, then a laugh followed behind.

"They were a waste of money. Talking about such love that probably never exists," he replies. This brought Brittany's attention into full focus. She closes the book with one hand, then gets up from her seat to cross the room towards the two figures.

"Are you trying to insinuate that wanting to be held and caressed like I'm actually worthy of something other than a trophy in a glass case is a fantasy?" She holds the book protectively to her chest—like her heart depended on keeping it close.

Finn smiled that smug smile she absolutely detested. "You're living in a fantasy love. Women are lower on society for a reason," he tells her, before placing a single kiss on her forehead then walks off to the other room.

She casts her eyes down in hurt. She wanted—just once, to feel something; anything other than trapped in a life that didn't consist of feeling worthless.

Quinn and Santana walked through the crowd of passengers to their room as others tried desperately to do the same. They knew what to expect, but they've endured much worse than sharing a room with two other people. Quinn was slightly ahead when she finally found it and pulls Santana in with her. There they come across two other Asians as Santana begins to laugh slightly.

"Who knew we'd be sleeping in a room with Asians?" She mumbled to the blonde in front of her, who just elbowed her in her stomach, laughing slightly.

"I did," she whispers only to have Santana laugh as Quinn throws her duffle on the top bunk. Santana gives the two, a man and a woman a once over, before smiling slightly.

"Santana Lopez, nice to meet you," the least she could do was be nice since they'll be sharing a room for this entire trip. They shook her hand confused, before she threw her stuff in the bottom bunk. Santana stood up on her bunk, before pushing Quinn playfully in the side. "Who said you could get top bunk, huh?" Quinn laughed before slapping her hands away. "Don't have any wet dreams tonight," she adds, before Quinn slaps her again, only this time harder.

Santana just merely smirks, before plopping down into her own bunk. She was really excited for this new beginning. Sure, she was born and raised in America, but when her parents died, she was on her own. She didn't run into Quinn until she was fourteen and by that time they were already overseas. Santana was singing on corners and dancing—basically like a gypsy, but she swore to never pick pocket or steal from anybody. Any money she got she was going to earn it fairly. It wasn't until a year later when she started playing poker. She was a natural at the game and as she continued to play, she began winning more and more. Her and Quinn began living off that, but suddenly it wasn't enough to just earn that kind of money, when you had to just either move from couch to couch and sometimes hide under a bridge just to keep from getting drenched in a torrential downpour, so that's when Quinn got the waitressing position at that pub. At sixteen, things were beginning to look up in the best way possible, however Santana always craved for more, but at the same time she loved not having any responsibility and the spontaneity of her life. She only hoped she had a better shot when she went home.

First chapter is done, so let me know what you think. I mentioned on Tumblr that it will be loosely based off the movie, where some scenes from the movie are in place (ex. the minor poker scene, finding their new bunk) it's all just revamped into my style. The history will be the same and the historical people (ex. Molly Brown) the thought of replacing the original historical figures just leaves me thinking I'm being disrespectful. At any rate, again please let me know what you think.

And Locked Up will continued to be updated like normal.