AN: So you requested it and I have massive writers block on Only One so let's see what would happen would happen if Charlie met Santana and Brittany at the right time when they were fourteen. There was no car accident. There was no abuse.

Summary: One single event changed their lives completely. It set them on a course that lead to so much pain and suffering. So what happens if it never happened? Where would they be? Most importantly would they be happy? Truly happy? This is a companion piece to Only one, based in the same world where one single event didn't happen.

Song – What If – Jason Derulo

Disclaimer – I don't own Glee.

April 14, 2004

From the day that they had met on the playground all those years ago and Santana had declared that Brittany was her soulmate, Miguel Lopez had been having a hard time controlling his willful daughter. They didn't seem to know the meaning of the word boundaries. He had caught them kissing once again and it was getting tiring. Grounding Santana seemed to have no effect on her and the open door policy was a joke. He wished that Maribel was still alive. His wife would have known how to handle Santana more effectively than he did. She had always managed to handle him effectively. He groaned as he walked up the stairs and knocked on Santana's door and opened it covering his eyes. "You decent?" He called out.

Santana looked at her dad and let out an irritated sigh. "Yes dad," she said, and a small smile appeared on her face even if she was annoyed. She didn't see what the big deal was. She and Brittany were soulmates. She had known that since she was a child, everyone had known since they were kids. They weren't even doing anything wrong they had just been kissing.

"Good." Miguel said as he entered Santana's room and took a seat on the bed beside her. He didn't know how to put this so that she'd understand. It was obvious to everyone that she was going to be a dominant. "Santana—you know she's not yours yet. Her name hasn't appeared on your wrist which means that you don't have a claim to her." Miguel held his hand up before Santana could speak up. "I know that she'll be your soulmate Santana. I don't doubt it. I think that you're incredibly lucky to have found your soulmate so early. But right now she isn't officially yours, and on the off chance that she isn't, I need you to be patient."

Santana scowled at this. "We aren't doing anything—" she begins angrily but stops when she's met with a look from her father. She sighs. "We haven't done anything, we were going to wait till we got our tattoos. We want to wait till we get our tattoos." Santana said as she scratched at her wrists absentmindedly.

"I caught you last week in a state of undress while you were on top of each other," Miguel said looking at the ceiling in exasperation, when Santana smirked at this. "The week before that Brittany's mother called me because you two were naked—"

"That time was completely innocent," Santana interrupts and her father gives her a look and she has the sense to look away sheepishly as she continues to absentmindedly scratch at her wrists. "It was." They had just been changing out of their uniforms when Brittany's mom had walked in. She hadn't even looked not really, well maybe once or twice but she was hadn't done anything.

Miguel snorted at this like he believed that Santana hadn't even looked. He knew his daughter, "Santana it's your responsibility to make sure that things don't go too far. You're more than likely going to be the dominant in this relationship. Which means that you need to be the strong one—and yes I know it's Brittany and she's impossible to say no to." Miguel said with a sigh shaking his head. Santana was going to have her hands full with Brittany, he almost felt sorry for his daughter. Almost. "You want to be a good dominant for Brittany don't you?"

Santana nodded, "I want to be the best," she admits with a smile as her cellphone rings and she reaches for it immediately. She'd recognize the ringtone anywhere. "Hey Britt—"

"It's not your name," Brittany manages to get out, her voice filled with sadness and tears streaming down her face. It wasn't Santana's name on her wrist, she was staring at it right now.

Santana's heart immediately drops, she had never expected to hear those words being uttered by Brittany at all. She's in shock, "Whose name?" Santana asks her voice barely above a whisper and she sees her dad stop and turn.

Brittany sniffs, staring at the neat cursive on her wrist, "Charlie Fabray."

Santana hates her already, for interfering, for being the name on Brittany's wrist. "Who the fuck is that—" Santana pauses for a moment catching sight of her own wrist which has Brittany's name on it. "Your name is on my wrist. Brittany—your name is on my wrist." It's like emotional whiplash how quickly it changes, because right after the initial excitement wears off and makes way to utter confusion. "Your name is on my left wrist—what the fuck is going on?" Santana demands angrily showing her father her wrist to look at it.

The elation that Santana is indeed hers causes Brittany to stop crying as she wipes her eyes with right hand only to see Santana's name on it. Brittany stares and drops the phone and holds both of her hands out in front of her. She's in shock she's got two names and she's not quite sure what that means. Santana Lopez and Charlie Fabray. Two names. Not one. Two. She hears Santana calling her name on the phone and she quickly grabs it. "San—I have two names. Yours is on my right and hers is on my left. Check both your wrists." Santana has to have both because she didn't want to be forced to choose."

Santana immediately does as Brittany asks, her father is looking rather confused as she looks at her other wrist and sure enough there in the same cursive writing is another tattoo. Charlie Fabray. Santana stares at it. "Who the fuck is Charlie Fabray?" Santana demands loudly.

Normally Miguel would have reprimanded his daughter on her language but he was currently staring at something that was impossible. No one he knew had two soulmates, but from what Brittany and Santana were saying. A miracle had just happened. At least he hoped it was a miracle. "Santana? What did you do?"

Judy glanced at the clock in the car, and shook her head wondering what was keeping them. They weren't even that late but Russell had instilled promptness in all of his children. She was about to call them when the doors to the center opened and Quinn and Charlie stumbled out. Judy studied her children for a moment and shook her head as they opened the door to the van. "How was practice?" she asked even if she knew the answer.

"Boring, she always wants me to practice Debussy. I hate Debussy," Charlie complains. Piano was boring, it didn't matter if she was some musical prodigy who would have her pick. She didn't like playing other people's music. Practicing it over and over again. She should have done what Quinn did and done and gone to those acting workshops that she was always going to.

"You know it's not too late to switch over to acting," Quinn says teasing Charlie and poking her in the side.

Charlie swatted Quinn's hand away and began to scratch at her wrists. "I don't think I'd look good prancing around in tights pretending that I'm Peter Pan. You barely looked good prancing around in those tights pretending you were Peter Pan. At least me and Puck had someone to laugh at." She's rewarded with a swift smack upside the head from Quinn and she smacks her back.

The light turns green and Judy presses on the accelerator, but turns in her seat to look at her twins. "Girls. You aren't two anymore." She turns forward only to slam her foot on the brake pitching them forward as a car blows past the red light and directly in front of them. Judy gasps it had been a close one and she looks to make sure that she wasn't in the wrong. But her light is still green. "Is everyone okay?" she asks.

"Yeah mom." Quinn says looking over at Charlie who had hit her head on the seat in front of her and is rubbing her head. Quinn reaches out to grab Charlie's arm. "Charlie—is that your tattoo?" she asks her eyes widening.

Charlie opens her eyes and looks at her wrist. She was definitely going to have a bruise on her forehead the next day. But she's more concerned about the name on her wrist. "Brittany Pierce." She grins and looks at Quinn. "I got my tattoos! Told you it didn't matter if you were twelve minutes older than me!" Charlie said grinning. "Mom I got my tattoos! We have to find her."

"Of course we will honey. I thought I had more time. Frannie didn't get hers till she was seventeen!" Judy exclaimed thoroughly surprised. She wanted to stop the car but after her little scare she was hyper vigilant. "Just wait till we get home Charlie. You can call your father, I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

She moves to trace Brittany's name with her hand and frowns as she sees lettering on her left wrist. "Santana Lopez?"

Quinn turned to Charlie slightly jealous that she hadn't gotten her own tattoos and she was busy checking her wrists. It wasn't' fair she was older than Charlie by a good twelve minutes. "Santana Lopez?" She echoes and notices that Charlie is staring at her wrists in shock. Quinn looks at Charlie's wrists. "What the—how the hell do you have two names?" She demands. She stops for a moment and thinks about it. "You have two submissives?"

Charlie flicks her eyes to Quinn a smug grin on her face. "Well I certainly didn't get two submissives by prancing around in tights pretending to be Peter Pan," she snips at Quinn who shoves her. Two submissives. She was getting two submissives. But even though she was being smug with Quinn, she traced the names as best as she could. She had two soulmates out there—two submissives who needed her and she was going to be the very best dominant for the both of them.

AN: A clash between dominants. Poor Brittany in every world she's always going to be between the two of them. Anyway this is what happens when I get writer's block for Only One. I'm impressed that I managed to get to chapter 96 before the block hit. Don't worry the moment I can figure out how to write the Grammy Scene we'll probably be right on track. But you know the drill if you like it, if you hate it. Drop me a line.