Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.
Summary: Brittany and Rachel work at a community theater and they form a relationship after an interesting mishap at a racetrack.
Author's Note: This is AU, probably a little OOC, but I'm having fun writing it.
Spoilers: Oedipus kills his father and sleeps with his mother.
"Okay, everyone, last stretches at the bar! And Joey, I want you to work on that jump at home, alright?" The boy nodded and Brittany played her 'stretches' track for her most advanced class of kids. She liked this class. They were the kids who went on past the classes their parents enrolled them in, and they actually wanted to be there, making Brittany's job much easier.
The track ended and the kids all congregated to the cubbies on the far wall to gather their things before leaving. A chorus of, "See you, Miss P," "Great class," "Thanks, Miss P," a hug from the youngest girl in the class, and Brittany's two-hour and only class of the day was over with.
It was almost seven which meant Rachel's day of painting various set pieces, adjusting light gels, and re-hanging curtains was just about done. She just had some rope to bring to the props closet and she'd be able to go home. Marcus had already left an hour earlier, leaving her the last one there.
She paused on the way to the closet when she heard the distinct thumping bass of what she assumed was some sort of pop song coming from down the hallway past the props closet. Rachel quickly deposited the rope and went to investigate the sound in the apparently not so empty theater.
She peered in through the window in the door and gasped at what she saw.
Brittany was dancing flawlessly to the beat of the music; she seemingly just free styling. She rolled her body in flowing movements in one second and the next she was popping her hips and her shoulders in opposite directions.
Rachel tore her eyes away from the amazing body to look at the blonde's face. Her eyes were closed and a smile would grace her lips every time she did a particularly pleasing move.
Rachel watched, unsure of what to do, as the other door in the room opened and a fit young man with black hair she didn't recognize began to sneak up on Brittany, whose back was turned and eyes were still shut.
The man – dressed in dark blue jeans, a grey, low v-neck, and blue and red Nike high tops – crouched low, taking quiet steps even though the music was still playing. Rachel was about to open the door when Brittany opened her eyes and saw him in the mirror. The blonde's face lit up and she twirled around to jump in the smiling man's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around.
The brunette backed away from the door, feeling like she was intruding on some special moment. She walked back to the sound room to retrieve her things and was making her way out the back door when she realized she hadn't locked the props closet.
With a sigh, she adjusted her shoulder bag and jacket and wandered back through the theater and down a hall to the closet. As she turned the key in the lock the door behind her opened and a slim finger tapped her on the shoulder.
"Brittany," Rachel smiled and looked behind the blonde to see that the mysterious black-haired man was gone. "I was just leaving when I realized I neglected to lock the props closet."
"Hey, Rach," they smiled at each other for a few seconds before Brittany snapped out of it. "We never got coffee."
"No, I suppose we didn't. How was the rest of your day?" They began walking towards the back door and Brittany gave a contemplative humming sound.
"Well, after an awesome night with this mega hot brunette," Brittany grinned at Rachel's soft smile. "I made her breakfast, she took me up against a wall, and then I kissed her goodbye."
Rachel was biting her lower lip. "And what happened after your tryst with this brunette?"
"San called right after you left," Brittany dropped the charade and proceeded to hold the door open for Rachel who thanked her before walking out into the hot summer air. "So I went over and got her out of bed and she made me lunch."
"What did she make?" Rachel began walking out of the alley and turned left in the direction of the small parking lot designated to the theater. Brittany must have parked in that direction, too, because she didn't stop the brunette to have the conversation on neutral ground.
"Little soft tacos. We used to watch her mom make them all the time."
Before Rachel knew what was happening, her right hand was taken into Brittany's left, their fingers lacing together. Rachel thought about the weight in her hand and then the two women were standing at the back of Rachel's dark blue Prius.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked softly as she stared at the pale fingers woven with hers.
"Going home with you," Brittany said, her confidence making the brunette blush. Brittany smirked at the color in Rachel's cheeks illuminated by street lights. "You know," she turned to face the shorter woman fully. "For someone who can be so dominant in bed, you sure are shy at even the insurgence of sex."
Rachel bit her tongue and giggled. "I think you mean 'insinuation.' "
Brittany, deciding she was done with big words, dropped Rachel's hand in favor of cupping the woman's face and chasing after the glimpse of that pink tongue with her own. When Rachel moaned she pulled away from the kiss with a smacking noise and looked into the brunette's darkening eyes.
"Take me home with you."
And Rachel did.
This time, Brittany made sure they were both completely stripped of their clothes, and Rachel made sure she was on top for at least three of the many rounds they went through. By one in the morning, they were both too exhausted to change Rachel's sex-permeated bedding.
Brittany woke up on her back, freezing. It was four, and Rachel was making that adorable snoring noise. Still, goose bumps covered her skin, and she needed to fix that situation, seeing as Rachel had somehow rolled herself into a warm little down-comforter burrito.
She walked over to the dresser and pulled the first drawer open. Her face fell at what she saw.
"Oh, fuck," Brittany stood in Rachel's room, stark naked, cold, with a look of absolute disgust on her face at the multiple different colored New York Yankees hats, shirts, and even socks littering the large drawer.
She quickly shut it as quietly as she could, and carefully pulled the second one, relieved when she found sweatshirts. She pulled on a plain grey one, and closed that drawer quietly as well.
When she turned back to the bed, she eyed the sleeping brunette in a completely new light. Come baseball season, there would definitely be some harsh words coming from Brittany's mouth as she donned her Red Sox paraphernalia.
Brittany sighed. All that would come later. Right now, she just wanted to figure out a way to spoon Rachel, skin to skin, with the comforter actually on top of them, instead of wrapped around the brunette.
She ended up slowly, carefully rolling Rachel until she was able to slip in next to her and pull some of the blanket around her own body. She fell asleep with her arm around Rachel's waist and the smell of sex and the brunette's vanilla shampoo in the air.
"I want you to help Brittany with her class, today," Marcus said from behind his desk, his half-moon glasses perched on his nose as he thumbed through a script.
"May I ask why?" Rachel sat on the couch to the left of his desk as the the two chairs – she usually sat in the one to the right – were occupied by more piles of scripts, as was his desk.
"Her other classes have been postponed for a senior living facility to take a class from her, today. It's some charity thing, or something. It's only for an hour an a half, and she always asks to go home after," he looked up and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "It'll be a good learning experience, sweetheart, you can do more with the soundboard tomorrow."
"So I'm only going to be here for as long as she is?"
"You got it, cupcake."
She nodded her understanding and left his office in search of the larger dance room where Brittany taught her adult classes.
She found it, knocked, and entered when a muffled, "It's open," was heard through the door.
Brittany was on the floor sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, bent over with her forehead on the hardwood. It looked like she was asleep.
"Marcus says I'm yours for the duration of your class."
Brittany smiled. "Just for my class?"
Rachel didn't answer. Instead, she sat opposite Brittany in the same position, but upright.
"Lift your shirt," Rachel softy commanded.
Brittany sat up and obeyed. Her bruises still hurt like a bitch, after all it had only been three days since the race, but they were healing. Rachel's ghost of a touch skimmed her skin and she shivered.
"We were too rough, last night," Rachel gently rubbed her thumb over an unscathed patch of abdominals before placing the shirt back over Brittany's stomach. "I'm coming over tonight to take care of you, and no funny business, this time."
Brittany pouted. "None?"
Rachel smirked. "I guess we'll see," she looked around the large room and noticed the clock on the wall read ten thirty. "What classes would you have been teaching today if the people from the elderly care facility weren't coming?"
"Tuesdays I have three different ballet classes with little kids, like, five and six year olds. Once a month the people at the old folks home a few blocks away come and dance," Brittany extended her legs and yawned. "It's labeled as a class, but mostly it's just for them to have fun. They do have to do the dances I assign, though."
"And today those dances are?"
"Waltz, Foxtrot, and Tango."
Right on cue the main two doors opened and a group of twenty elderly people wandered in followed by two young volunteers.
Rachel stood and watched as Brittany smiled excitedly and even hugged a few of the different people.
"Okay, everybody partner up! Usually I'd ask for a volunteer to demonstrate the first dance, but today I have a lovely assistant to help me out," Brittany smiled at the pairs of two around the room and then turned to Rachel, extending her hand for the brunette. "Rachel?"
The blonde smiled as she slid her left hand into Rachel's right, and placed her own right gently just below the brunette's shoulder blade. Rachel's right arm rested on Brittany's left and she smiled, remembering when her dad would dance like this with her when she was five and six and seven, their ridiculous height differences making her daddy laugh.
Brittany's eyes sparkled as she watched Rachel relive whatever happy memory was making her smile and then turned to a woman who standing close to the stereo. "Rose, will you please press the big red button on the radio?"
Rose smiled a toothless grin and did as she was asked, easily finding the button covered in red tape. She pushed it and the room was filled with the gentle strings of a waltz. Rachel looked at Brittany's face before she remembered she wasn't supposed to do that. She looked to the left, over the blonde's shoulder, and when Brittany gave the slightest pressure on to their joined hands and Rachel stepped back as Brittany stepped forward, and suddenly, they were dancing.
It was a slow waltz, no doubt so it would be easier for the class to follow. The women moved around the room once and when they made it back, Brittany asked everyone to join in. She spun Rachel and went back to dancing them around the room, checking on everyone else as they moved.
"When did you learn to waltz?"
Rachel smiled. "When I was five."
The dancing continued for the next hour and a half. Mostly Brittany danced with Rachel, but occasionally someone would ask to cut in to dance with one of the girls. When the time was up, Brittany hugged the same people she had when the group came in, and they all shuffled out of the room with smiles on their aged faces. After they'd all left, Brittany grabbed her satchel and iPod from the corner closest to the door and threw a smirk over her shoulder at Rachel. "C'mon, let's get out of here. You owe me coffee."
Rachel smiled and followed Brittany out of the room, leading the blonde to the women's washroom where her own belongings were waiting for her in a locker. She spun the combination and pulled the TimBuk2 bag out before walking into the hall with Brittany.
"So we headed to CJ?" Rachel pushed open the front door and held it for the blonde woman.
"Yeah, I have a hankering for an iced chai," Brittany spoke as she put her hair in a loose bun, exposing her long neck.
Rachel's phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket.
"I just got a text from Marcus; he wants me to help you with your classes for the rest of the week."
"Oh, okay," said Brittany as they walked out onto the sidewalk. "You want to come back to mine to go over my dance routines for them?"
Rachel smiled. "Yeah, that sounds fun."
Brittany opened her front door and was met with the smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. A wide grin immediately broke out across her and she screamed before sprinting down the hall and to the right towards the kitchen while calling out, "Quinn!" in the process.
Rachel took off her jacket and smiled, albeit a little confusedly, at the squeals and giggles coming from further in the apartment. She hesitantly walked down the short entry hall, took a right, and made her way toward the voices. There were three of them, Rachel noted, all of them talking excitedly. She walked in front of the kitchen and found Brittany clinging to a slightly shorter blonde woman while a brunette not much taller than Rachel watched.
Brittany spun her laughing friend around and caught Rachel's eye. "Rach!" she put down the other blonde and beamed at the woman at the head of the room.
The brunette smiled at Brittany's happy expression. The other blonde and brunette looked at Rachel as well and she recognized them as the women in the photos around Brittany's apartment. Rachel walked further into the kitchen and stuck her hand out to the brunette who was eyeing her skeptically. "You're Santana."
Santana gave kind of a diagonal nod and shook the proffered hand. "And you're Rachel," Santana looked this new woman over and gave Brittany some credit. Her friend always did have good taste.
"And this is Quinn!" Brittany squealed again when Rachel and Quinn shook hands. "This is so awesome! We just need Mike and Puck and all my favorite people will be here!"
"Ew, B," Santana chuckled. "You don't want that grungy boy here."
"Puck's in LA, anyway," Quinn said and moved to the oven. She opened the door and pulled out a tray of hot, gooey cookies with duck oven mitts before setting it down on a cooling rack on the counter.
"Yeah, but Mike's here," Brittany reached for a cookie but Santana slapped her hand away muttering, "too hot."
"I saw him at the theater the other day," Brittany hopped onto the counter and Rachel leaned on the counter across from her.
"He can come to drinks on Sunday," said Santana.
Brittany placed a hand on her stomach and Rachel was the only one who caught the slightly uncomfortable look under her smile, and she quickly moved in front of the blonde.
"Brittany," Rachel lifted the hem of the woman's red peasant top and cringed. The bruises were now a sickly yellow color. Rachel heard a hiss from behind her, but her attention was on Brittany. "Don't move, okay?" she looked up and smiled when Brittany nodded. She turned to the other women and said, "Excuse me," before she walked out of the kitchen.
Quinn and Santana made eye contact with each other and smirked as their tall friend gazed after Rachel seconds after the brunette was out of sight.
"What's with the bruises, B?" Quinn chuckled softly while her friend still stared after Rachel.
"Someone kicked my moving bike over when I beat him for second," Brittany said. She was still waiting for Rachel to get back "Rachel was there," she said.
"Oh yeah?" Quinn realized she was clearly not going to get good answers from a very distracted Brittany, so she turned with a quirked eyebrow to Santana.
"She had a race on Sunday, she placed second, and the guy she beat was pissed because only first and second got cash prizes," Santana explained. "B had invited Rachel, and I guess she followed B here and took care of her." Santana frowned a little and moved to take a look at Brittany's bruises herself.
"Damn, B," Santana lifted Brittany's shirt up and off and set the fabric down on the counter.
Brittany finally snapped to attention when she realized she was being disrobed. "Can I help you?" she asked playfully.
"I'm just looking," Santana smiled when Brittany poked her furrowed brow.
"Um," Rachel had reappeared in the open entryway of the kitchen. She was holding two damp washcloths in her hand and a bottle of Tylenol in the other. Santana moved back to the other side of the room next to Quinn to let Rachel do what she wanted.
"Hey, Rach," Brittany smiled as if she hadn't seen the brunette all day.
Rachel smiled through biting her lip and walked up to hand Brittany the towels. "Put these on your hip and stomach," she was trying hard to not blatantly ogle Brittany with the blonde's friends there, so she kept her eyes on Brittany's face.
Brittany did as she was told and winced as the hot material touched her skin. "Can we go to the couch?"
Rachel laughed softly. "Of course," she stepped back and Brittany hopped down from the counter. "I'm going to get you a glass of water, I'll be there in a second."
Brittany walked out to her living area and was followed by her friends. Brittany sprawled herself on the couch while Santana and Quinn took the two lounge chairs next to the windows.
"How come you're here so early, Q?" Brittany asked. "San said you weren't coming until next month."
"Yeah, well, she's a lying sneak. She wanted to surprise you. I got here like an hour after you left yesterday," Quinn grinned at Brittany incredulous expression.
"Happy surprise, B," Santana was smiling widely, too, at Brittany's shocked expression. The blonde was about to get up to hug Quinn again but Rachel came into the room with the glass of water.
"Sorry to interrupt," Rachel stood over Brittany and held out the glass. "Sit up," Rachel handed Brittany the meds and waited for her to drink some water before taking the glass back and setting it down on a side table. Rachel looked back to Brittany and the blonde had sat up a little further, but her legs still took up most of the couch.
Rachel looked amused as she asked, "You gonna let me sit?"
Brittany answered immediately. "Get behind me."
"Come on," Brittany grinned.
Rachel smiled and shook her head. "You can be," she carefully slid in behind Brittany, positioning her right leg between Brittany and the back of the couch. "incredibly cheeky," Rachel closed her eyes as Brittany leaned back into her, and she wrapped her arms snugly below the dancer's breasts to avoid putting pressure on her bruised abdomen. "did you know that?"
Brittany brought her hand down and pulled up Rachel's leg. She hooked it over her own legs, but kept her hand in place in case Rachel slipped. She settled lower on Rachel so her head rested on the brunette's breasts and she hummed in contentment. "Only 'cause you make it too easy, Rach."
Santana smiled at her friend looking so happy, but her attention was brought to Quinn when the blonde asked, "So, Rachel, what do you do?"
Rachel smiled at the opportunity to tell Brittany's friends about herself. "Right now I'm interning at the Rose with Brittany. I graduated from NYADA last year; I'm an actress, but I felt my knowledge of theater wouldn't be complete without some hands-on backstage experience."
Quinn nodded. "What kind of actor?"
"Every kind," Rachel gave a happy sigh. "I'm going to be on Broadway some day."
"That's a fact," Brittany still hadn't opened her eyes. "You should hear her sing, she's amazing."
"You've barely heard me sing, Brittany. I've heard you sing more than you've heard me."
"B sang for you?" Santana interjected. She sounded surprised.
"Oh, no," Rachel said, and then pointed to the DVD case. "The other day I found her Troubletones movie. You had quite the group, and all your voices were amazing."
Santana cocked a crooked smirk. "Are."
"My voice still is amazing."
Rachel smiled as Quinn, Brittany, and Santana all laughed together. Her smiled dropped, however, when Quinn removed her light pullover to reveal a refitted Red Sox tee shirt.
"Nice shirt, Q," Santana gave an approving nod. "Who's is it?"
"That man can pitch," said Brittany.
Rachel stiffened. Brittany felt her tense and turned to see Rachel smiling nervously and biting her lip. "Rach?"
"I feel like I'm in the lion's den," she looked around at the women in the chairs, and then sideways to Brittany. "Things between you and me might get a little strained during baseball season."
Brittany just smiled. "Oh, don't worry, baby. I'll still be here for you when the Sox beat the ever living shit out of the Yankees this year," she placed a playful kiss on Rachel's cheek, and Rachel stiffened again. Brittany just called her 'baby.'
Rachel smiled after the initial shock of the pet name wore off. "We'll see who's here for who."
"Q-Fab, go get some of those cookies," Santana said, changing the subject from potentially vicious sports rivalry.
"Were those your doing?" Rachel asked. She tightened her hold on Brittany's waist and had a feeling the blonde didn't mind being squeezed.
"Oh yes," Quinn said with an air of false pride as she got up for her chair. "I was raised to be a Stepford wife," she walked out of the room with a playful hand to her chest and her nose in the air and came back fairly quickly with a plate full of the still-warm cookies. She placed the plate on the glass coffee table between the couch and the chairs, and Brittany immediately leaned up to snatch two for herself. Everyone but Rachel was now munching on chocolate chip heaven, and Quinn noticed.
"Don't you want a cookie? I swear they're not poisonous," she added with a crumb-covered smirk.
Rachel smiled and was about to respond when Brittany answered for her. "Rachel's vegan." Her words were muffled as she stuffed the last half of her first cookie into her mouth.
"Yeah?" Santana was in the middle of chewing her own bit of cookie. "Shame. Eating these is like a fucking out of body experience."
"Aw, you're welcome," Quinn finished her own baked good and brushed any crumbs from her face.
"I'll just have to bake a batch of my vegan cookies for you three," Rachel giggled when Brittany squealed for the billionth time that day.
"You totally have to make them here," Brittany tilted her head up and then grinned seductively at Rachel. "and then I'll fuck you on the counter while they're baking."
Rachel flushed a pink that made it down to her neck. "Brittany," she quietly admonished. Rachel was gazing at the blonde, a little appalled (and intrigued) by her remark, and she failed to notice Quinn and Santana exchange eye rolls and smirks.
Brittany's grin only widened at Rachel's embarrassment and she settled more into the brunette's chest and squeezed her leg. This day could only get better.
Author's Note: Any ideas on how I should progress? I tend to have fairly good starts to stories, but I never think them through. It's a fault.