What started out as a three-shot has now been expanded due to an amazing amount of feedback. The first three chapters are essentially based off of this prompt from the GKM:
Booknerd!Santana has books delivered almost everyday, her old postman has retired leaving a new shy Postwoman!Brittany in his place, Brittany packs and binds underneath her uniform but Santana doesn't really notice, the first time Santana and Brittany meet they have a small conversation but over time they progress to flirting and slight touches, eventually Santana starts inviting her in for coffee because she's the last house on Brittany's route, one day Brittany decides to make her move and they end up in Santana's bed.
Which can be found at the GKM: glee- kink- meme . livejournal .com (slash) 43590 . html? thread=5913786
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know what you think (or not, that's cool too!)
Part One: She's the Girl that No One Ever Knows
"Alright Pierce, this will be your route. The neighborhood is pretty quiet and relaxed so you shouldn't have any trouble." The elder postman tells his postmaster in training while scanning the houses of the domestically quaint Lima Heights neighborhood.
The young and shy blonde youth nods their head in understanding from the seat next to the postmaster as bright blue eyes remain diverted from everything but the floor of the mail truck.
Postmaster Hummel chuckles a little and pats the kind but shy whippersnapper on the back.
"Don't worry Pierce, it's unlikely you'll have to speak aloud to anyone." He says, knowing how shy the youth is and receives a warm but timid quirk of the lips from the blonde. "But remember one thing, always deliver to 1101 last. It's better that way."
There's another nod of understanding before Postmaster Hummel chuckles and continues the training.
Brittany Pierce can't remember why exactly she chose to appear as her older brother for this particular post job, but so far she's been treated with much more respect during it than any other job she's held before so she supposes the slight matter of deception will have to do for now.
She's not likely to hurt anyone with her bindings, no one's likely to realize what she may or may not be packing, and tucking her hair under her postmaster hat seems to keep her a lot warmer than she's used to.
It's a job, it's decent money, and it's all Brittany can do at the time.
Santana Lopez has always held a knack for reading.
Not that she would ever admit that out loud, even if anyone ever really cared. But, if she were being honest, it was probably the most obvious thing about her to anyone else; Santana was a booknerd and that's the way she liked it.
She always had her nose buried in a book all throughout high school, and things didn't change much when she got to college. Now she finds herself living in her own house, getting paid to do the one thing she'd do for free anyway; read books. Of course, there's certain books she's required to read and post online reviews to for her employer, but the other one or two (or four) books she orders every other day (or so) are usually purely for her enjoyment.
Santana is just finishing clicking the 'Place Order' button on her Amazon account when she hears the doorbell chime. Checking the time she grins, realizing it's about the time for Postmaster Hummel to show up with her daily order.
Sliding out of her comfy office chair, and removing the frames of her black-rimmed glasses to set them gently on the surface of her desk, Santana skips leisurely to the front door.
"Just on time Burt! I'm just about done with my last order." Santana exclaims with a beaming smile as she swings the door open with one hand and the other remains firmly grasped on the book in her hand, her eyes tilted towards the script filled pages.
"Ohh…ummm." Santana hears timidly from in front of her and momentarily diverts her attention from her book to glance at the Postmaster in front of her. Her coffee brown eyes immediately go wide when she gathers their appearance.
"You're not Postmaster Hummel." She blurts, quite obvious to the person standing in front of her. Brittany shakes her head, and blue eyes try to focus anywhere but on the very skimpy outfit pulled over the extremely fit body of the woman in front of her.
Santana glances down at her own attire at watching the way the postmaster's cheeks flush pink after glancing it. She sheepishly smiles back at the Postmaster when she realizes she's clad in only her short black sleep shorts and grey tank top. She forgets her embarrassment when curiosity overtakes her thoughts. Tilting her head she glances back at the Postmaster.
"What's your name? Are you covering for Mr. Hummel or…?" Santana asks, glancing at the nametag pinned to the Postmaster's outfit and reading the word 'Pierce' while the whole time thinking it's rather adorable that this young man can't seem to meet her eyes. Santana watches as the Postmaster shakes their head again and then manages to briefly make eye contact with her, simultaneously causing Santana's heart to beat rapidly as her eyes lock with compelling tropical blue.
"I…I-I'm uhh B-b-b…Pierce." Brittany manages to stutter out before swallowing a lump in her throat, she can't believe how nervous she is right now. "I'm taking o-over Burt's r-route, he retired."
Santana face falls into a frown, she didn't know Burt was retiring. When she sees the look of sadness cross Pierce's face she quickly shakes her head and reaches out to gently place her hand on the postmaster's forearm in reassurance, it doesn't go unnoticed to Santana how soft and feminine the arm feels under her fingertips.
And neither girl misses the electric jolt that suddenly skips through their bodies at the contact.
"I'm sorry," Santana apologizes, trying to make eye contact with those alluring blue eyes, and failing, "I'm not upset that you've replaced him. I just didn't know he was retiring. I'm Santana." She says with a gentle smile, trying to assure this Pierce fellow that everything's okay. A small smile breaks out across the Postmaster's lips as Pierce nods.
"I know." Brittany says gruffly, she's not sure why her voice suddenly sounds like that, deeper and slightly less chipper than normal. Maybe it's a product of all the binding and packing she does, it's easier to fit into this world as a boy, and it's probably better that nobody knows the truth.
She stretches her hand out with the package she holds for 'Santana Lopez'. If ethnic people could blush, Santana would be doing it about now. Instead, she shyly tucks her chin down, still enamored by this strange but very intriguing young postmaster.
"Thank you…Pierce." She starts to say quietly as she begins to glance up; surprised to find that the postmaster is already bumbling back to the Post Truck parked a little ways down the street.
Brittany takes a deep breath as she nears the last house on her route.
It's been a little over one week exactly since she's started delivering books to Santana Lopez, house 1101, but each time she rings that doorbell and the smiling, beautiful Santana answers the door, Brittany forgets how to breathe all over again.
Not to mention, she still hasn't had the guts to tell Santana the truth about herself, and has aimlessly allowed the other woman to refer to her by her last name and be under the assumption that she's a male. It's not as though she'd prefer it that way, but Santana seems so open to talk to her as one that she doesn't want to risk loosing that connection by telling her the truth.
Shaking the nervousness out of her head, Brittany shifts her delivery bag back over her left shoulder and puts one foot in front of the other. Before she knows it, she's standing on Santana's front steps. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to ring Santana's doorbell, and after only one buzz the door flies open and Brittany looses her breath once again.
God, she looks like an angel Brittany thinks as she takes in the sight of Santana standing before her. Her smooth tan skin glowing and peaking out from under her khaki shorts and white polo, her long dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her enchanting brown eyes gazing up at her with a tenderness Brittany is unfamiliar with.
And that smile.
Brittany realizes she's been staring for quite sometime and before she can stop it from happening, she feels the heat creep up her neck and paint her cheeks pink. Santana takes it in stride, smiling kindly.
"I like your hat." Santana says, her eyes glancing up at the common winter type Postmaster hat that sits astride Brittany's head, she figured that since it was around the start of autumn, such a hat would be acceptable. She smiles at Santana's words, her heart fluttering at the mere thought that Santana notices anything on her, anything about her. She clears her throat, making the conscious effort to lower her tone just slightly.
"Thank you, the other Postmasters' made fun of me for wearing it, but I just can't help liking a good hat."
Santana nods her agreement, "Don't listen to them. I think it looks cute on you."
Brittany didn't think she could blush any redder. Her hands are shaking again when she lifts out Santana's package from her bag and her box of dots falls to the porch steps. Both her and Santana reach down at the same time to grab the spilled candy and their hands briefly touch. A shock jolts through Brittany's entire arm and her blood runs warm.
Swallowing thickly she mumbles out a throaty "Thanks" as she takes the candy from Santana's hand, completely avoiding eye contact but keeping her hand on the package outstretched to the woman. She knows if she looks into those eyes, she won't be able to look away.
Soft fingertips brush across the back of Brittany's hand as Santana takes the package and an involuntary shiver runs through Brittany's body.
"Thank you Pierce, you keep a booknerd happy." Santana speaks softly, adding a wink for good measure and all Brittany is capable of doing is giving a small nod before she turns and bumbles quickly back down the path to her truck.
On the eighth day that Brittany delivers books, to house 1101 she is met at the door by a smiling Santana who holds a giant box of Dots out to her.
"I felt bad that you dropped yours the other day, and I was at the supermarket yesterday and saw this huge box so I picked them up so you'd always have some." Santana tells her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as Brittany continues to stare at her in awe and amazement.
Brittany is absolutely baffled by the situation before her. No one's ever been that nice to her.
"Oh god, it's stupid isn't it?" Santana suddenly asks, and starts to retreat from the door. Brittany, not wanting Santana to think that such a kind gesture to her could ever be such an awful thing such as stupid, bravely reaches out and grips Santana by the forearm, halting her and turning her back around to face her.
"It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." Brittany admits, managing to glance Santana in the eyes for a brief second before she averts her attention to the ground again and shuffles her feet. A soft touch to her ear breaks Brittany from her staring contest with the porch below her, and she looks back up to find Santana gently brushing a stray strand of Brittany's hair that's fallen out of her cap behind her ear.
"You deserve nice things too, Pierce."
Brittany swallows the lump in her throat and her heart aches as Santana pulls her hand back slowly. She wishes she could feel that hand on her forever, despite how incredibly forward that sounds, Brittany's never been more sure about her feelings for anyone.
In fact, she doesn't think she's ever been this sure about anything, in her life, ever.
But Brittany's more than sure about this; she's irrevocably in love with Santana Lopez.
If only the thought of Santana knowing whom she's really talking to wasn't the most terrifying thing in the world.
"Thank you." Santana says genuinely as she retrieves her package and makes to hastily move back into her house. For the first time ever since Brittany's been delivering books to Santana Lopez' house, she stands on the steps and watches Santana close the door on her.
"You're welcome." She whispers to the hardwood door before sighing heavily and turning to retreat to her post truck.
The following week's deliveries are very reminiscent of that first day for Brittany.
She goes to Santana's house, every time telling herself that today will be the day that she tells her the truth, and every single time she rings that doorbell she's sucked into those incredible brown eyes. She's swimming in a sea of overwhelming feelings and she's not sure which way is up.
Santana tenderly takes the package from Brittany's hand, offering her a warm and kind and wonderfully beautiful smile. There's a twinkle in her eyes every time that tells Brittany she's about to say something else, perhaps something that Brittany is surely not prepared for or capable of hearing.
So every single time, in a haste she was not forthrightly knowledgeable of having, Brittany bows her sincerities and turns away from Santana before the woman can even utter a single word.
Though it hurts beyond belief, Brittany has determined that the best thing for herself, as well as the livelihood of Santana, is to largely ignore and prevent any sort of extended friendship that may occur between the two of them. It is better this way because then Brittany can remain the shy bumbling Postmaster that Santana tolerates, and she does not risk becoming the lying crossdresser who carries a torch for a woman that will surely never return her sentiments, let alone the love she feels in the depths of her heart.
Brittany probably couldn't detest herself and her actions anymore than she already does even if she tried.
On the seventeenth day of deliveries, Brittany has been keeping strict track, she walks to Santana's door with an uncontainable ache inside her chest. The thought of looking into those deep brown eyes that she just knows will suck her in and make her world brighter, makes the thought that she'll have to look away from them once again that much more difficult to fathom.
She takes a deep breath before stretching her hand out and rapping her knuckles against the front door, the same way she has for over two weeks now, and mentally prepares herself for Santana's imminent arrival at said door.
There is a brief moment between the time that Santana opens her front door and raises her eyes to met Brittany's where the Postmaster recognizes a look that finds its way across the other woman's face. A look that Brittany is very familiar with because she has on more than one occasion, been known to provide that look to others.
Slack jaw, sunken like blotches underneath Santana's eyes, wrinkled forehead and an upside down smile; the telltale signs of a miserable, and perhaps very lonely person.
But Brittany, for the life of her, cannot understand any such reasons for someone as lovely and beautiful and wonderful as Santana to be in such a sad and dismal place.
Before Brittany has the opportunity to blurt the question that rests on the tip of her tongue, the look is wiped clean from Santana's face and she meets Brittany's clear blue eyes with her own bright, though quite dull, brown eyes and her usual kind and stunning smile, even if Brittany recognizes that the smile doesn't quite reach Santana's eyes.
"Hey Pierce." Santana greets, though it's slightly broken and hoarse, as if having been subjected to an occasion of crying. Brittany's heart squeezes painfully in her chest. What she would give to not ever have to hear that sadness layering Santana's beautiful voice again. She flashes the biggest smile she can back at Santana, her brain churning with some statement or sentence or phrase that can draw a genuine smile back to those flawless full lips that adorn Santana's mouth.
"They say that postmasters are supposed to walk through anything, but I really hope I don't have to walk through mossy grass because I saw A Bug's Life once and I wouldn't want to kill any innocent lady bugs." Brittany finds herself suddenly blurting out without even considering her words, and the instant they leave her lips she slaps a hand over her mouth and her eyes go wide.
She'd intended on making Santana happy, not further ridiculing herself.
Not only did Brittany just divulge a certain childlike side of her to Santana that she honestly hoped she would never embarrass herself with revealing, but she also definitively sounded feminine when she did so. The look on Santana's face, wide-eyed surprise and gapping mouth, is clear indication that the shorter woman in fact caught onto all of that as well.
On the other hand, there's a quirk at the corner of Santana's lip that seems the most genuine Brittany has ever witnessed thus far in her time delivering to house 1101.
"You…" Santana utters and then appears to cut herself off. Brittany clears her throat and averts her eyes directly to the shinny surface of her black polished boots, toeing the ground a little with one as a desperate form of distraction. She doesn't hear anything from Santana after that first utterance, but she feels a certain sense of someone raptly watching her.
When Brittany finally peeks her eyes back up in Santana's direction, she finds the other woman standing with her arms folded casually across her chest and a coy smile pulled across her lips. Brittany swallows the thick lump of nervousness lodged woefully in her throat and picks a spot to focus on over Santana's left shoulder.
Crap she's at a loss for words. A big damn loss (not as though that would be surprising in the least to anyone, but typically Brittany has some semblance of chatter to divert herself from such awkward situations.) Apparently, her chatter has run adrift.
"Ummm h-here's your package…Ms. Lopez." Brittany stutters out, happy that she's managed to disguise her voice in that deeper octave tone she's been so successfully utilizing. She holds the other woman's package out careful to not risk a drop or an over stimulating brush of the fingers, knowing either will release her into an even more unappealing form of herself. She waits until Santana has a firm grip on the package before she turns to walk quickly away from the situation. Drawing herself out of any other form of unintentional embarrassment.
What Brittany's not expecting is a small hand to reach out and grip at her forearm before she's even gotten spun all the way around. There is a flare that ignites on the point of contact and Brittany almost gasps at the feeling that races through her veins. Santana's hand is soft and gentle, but firm enough to be commanding.
Brittany's not expecting any of it, and even though she's not looking Santana in the eyes, she can tell that the other woman is preparing to say something to her. And when she does, it's not a completely unexpected question. Though at the same time is kind of out of the blue. The question is formulated and spoken from those very same full lips that only moments ago, Brittany couldn't have taken her eyes off if you had offered her a million and one boxes of dots.
"Wait!" The word escapes Santana in a pleading desperate tone, but the words that come next are to an extent calmer, "What's your name Pierce? Your first name?"
Brittany could have let everything slide with the first question, her façade remaining perfectly intact, but with the emergence of the second question, she is shit out of luck with attempting any form of aversion. She knows she could easily clear her throat again and offer up the name Brett, the very same one she has been masquerading to others whilst holding her position, but something doesn't feel even remotely moral about lying to Santana anymore.
It is thus that Brittany instead informs Santana that her name is, in fact, "Brittany." While slowly turning back around to face the other woman, though persevering to keep her eyes towards the ground.
There's another beat of silence that inadvertently causes a cold sweat to break out along the nape of Brittany's neck. She waits a moment before she lifts her eyes to gaze at Santana, and finds the warmest, calmest, most understanding brown eyes gazing back at her. Santana's lips slowly pull into a toothless grin, and Brittany realizes that a tan palm is still pressed lightly into her forearm.
"Brittany." Santana repeats and gets only a miniscule nod from the other woman before she returns to her gazing.
Santana seems to study Brittany in a way that she has never been familiar with. There has never been an instance where anyone desired to give Brittany more than a fleeting glance, and then now here Santana is gazing at her in such a manner she feels as though she's the only thing in the world worth looking at. It's quite daunting but at the same time rather flattering.
"I kind of had a feeling, and I'm really glad I asked." Santana is then murmuring in the distance between them as her hand drops from Brittany's forearm. For a moment, that feeling of accomplishment slowly sinks away from Brittany's heart, until she becomes aware of the fact that both of Santana's delicate hands are hovering near her face.
Brittany swallows another lump in her throat as Santana's eyes stare into hers in a silent request. She barely manages to nod without passing out and then she has to wait as Santana's hands come closer to her face and her fingers angle up as they proceed to grip at the edges of her postmaster hat and tug it up and off of Brittany's head.
There's something about the way that her hair spills from the hat, locked in a simple small braid, and falls just over her right shoulder that makes Brittany feel freer than she ever has before.
The uttered words cause Brittany's eyes to snap back up to Santana's, the probability of that single complimentary word having actually left Santana's lips too much for Brittany to comprehend or actually believe. But then, she witnesses the way Santana's eyes seem to be admiring every single inch of her face with a certain appreciation that Brittany's only ever seen occur between two lovers, and she feels like something more is there.
Brittany's heart flips at that thought and then Santana's eyes are locking with her own once more.
Though the gaze is intense, it is not intimidating. In fact, it presents the first time that Brittany has had the chance to unabashedly admire the beauty of Santana. The unique blend of light and dark brown of her eyes, the delicate slope of her nose, her cherub cheekbones, and those inviting full lips. It's not until Brittany realizes that Santana seems to be admiring her in the same manner that her cheeks pink.
For a moment, Brittany swears she observes Santana's eyes dropping to her lips and lingering briefly before they flit back up to her blue eyes. Though not exceedingly accustomed to watching ethnic people blush, Brittany could swear there's a light dusting of red that marks Santana's cheeks. But she gets neither the time nor the consideration to analyze further on or question the notion before Santana quite suddenly becomes somewhat of a bumbling mess.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stare like that," the words tumble from Santana's mouth in an almost incomprehensible flow, her eyes plummet to the stoop in front of her obviously far more interesting than Brittany at the moment.
"It's okay." Brittany doesn't realize she's saying the words they come out in such a barely audible whisper, but when Santana's eyes lift to hers again, she's not regretful of having let the words escape.
"It's just…you're just so," Santana seems to squint at Brittany as she ponders the next words she's going to say. Brittany's heart is on the brink of cardiac arrest at the potential of what the small woman before her might utter. Wishing, hoping, that it might be something similar to what rests upon her tongue in reference to Santana; stunning, amazing, beautiful, adorable?
But Brittany's wishes are not granted, and her hopes are quickly dashed the moment she watches a look of panicked apprehension cross Santana's face, her eyes wide in some sort of indescribable worry.
Those are the last words that Brittany hears from Santana before she watches the large maple door of house 1101 close before her very eyes.
Also, the title of the story (and the subsequent Part titles) come from the We the Kings song "Say You Like Me", which I admit this story is partially modeled after. In case anyone wants to have a listen.