Mrs. and Mrs. Lopez

Prologue

Santana shifts uncomfortably in the leather chair. It sticks to her skin and annoys the hell out of her every time she moves. Why did she agree to this? It's not the first time she asked herself, but it's the first time she asked herself while being seated in a room waiting for some PHD wielding expert to analyze her life and try to fix what isn't broken.

Sure her marriage has been lackluster for what now? A few months? Half a year? 365days max, but it's expected, after being married so long the excitement dies out. And where is the problem in that? They were settling; it's a phase every married couple goes through.

"I'm sorry for the wait," Dr Richards sits in front of them in a sofa made for one. Actually, all the sofa's in this room are made for one, hence why she's not sitting with Brittany. Their sofas' are side-by-side, and skin to skin but the armrests separate them, making it less intimate. Santana doesn't have a problem with that; they have a soft couch at home that doesn't squeak and it is padded with cushions that are perfect for wielding off in the heat of the moment.

Come to think of it, that's what her marriage is like now, the picture of perfection, neat, and not one thing out of place until something stirs the calm and they're taking it out on each other till they are both wrecked, then they pick the pieces up and put them just how they were, neither saying another word.

The thought passes and Santana is drawn back to the conversation; by the sound of it she hasn't missed much more than Dr. Richards' apology.

"Now, you don't have to answer the questions if you feel uncomfortable. But I encourage you to participate as much as possible. The more you help me by talking, the more I can help you." Dr. Richards says and looks from Brittany to Santana, making sure they understand the rules to her game.

"Ok, let's begin."

Santana cuts in before the first question leaves Dr. Richards' mouth, "I'd like to make it clear that we aren't 'that' type of couple. Actually, we don't even need to be here."

"That's true," Brittany adds, not looking at Santana at all. Her eyes are fixed to the walls covered in diploma's and honors; she's looking at them but not really, she's just gathering the situation in her head and thinking about how humorous it is for them to be sitting here.

"I blame Rachel Berry,"

"She was cheating,"

"uh huh,"

"uh huh" Both say in unison.

It would have been funny except for the fact that stuff like this happens to them all the time, from saying the same thing to having the same opinion to picking up the hammer conveniently placed smack between them at the same time – hands covering each other's while both tugging for the right to hammer in the nails for their respective auctioned pieces of art, not to mention how they met; it's like their lives were jinxed from the get go.

Dr. Richards remains silent, watching the exchange take place between the two strikingly different women.

"Personal dislike never dies does it? Well, her issues with Quinn seem to have simmered."

"They were just plotting against you babe." Brittany gives Santana a smile which she returns. They nearly forget that this is couples therapy and that there is a specialist sitting across from them scrutinizing their every word and action.

"It was during my high-school reunion." Santana says, "It was the first time I introduced Brittany to everyone."

"…you introduced me as your wife and everyone went bonkers."

"Right, then we got into a bet. I used to be on the Cheerio's; won some shiny for the school. But Quinn always thought she was better than me, we were cheerleaders together."

"That's when the great balancing match began."

"Which turned horribly wrong. Rachel Berry gave us water after fifteen minutes on the pole; mine was beer or straight liquor I'm sure."

"You didn't have to drink it all; that was one tall cup of non-water"

Santana's lips curl into a smirk as her eyes flick towards Brittany

"I swear Quinn's legs were already shaking."

"Skipping to the end of the story," Brittany brings Dr. Richards up to speed, "she lost her balance and fell face forward. I don't know what hurt more, her nose or her ego. If I know this one, it was the latter."

Santana lifts her eyebrows and locks Brittany in a knowing look, "Well, we're here aren't we? Rachel has the most unoriginal ideas."

They both giggle quietly like school girls keeping a secret in the empty halls.

"Why did you follow through?" Dr. Richards raises the question wondering if there is more to the appointment than a practical joke.

The couple shares a look, "We have a theory." Santana says.

"We do?" There's a light tone in Brittany's voice saying 'amuse me'.

"Catcher in the Rye," Santana reminds Brittany.

"Oh right, the same page."

" See, we've been married for ….six years."

"Seven," Brittany corrects.

"Six to seven years," Santana goes on, Dr. Richards nods her head, "this is like a test to see that we still have the same vision set for us. You know, that we're reading the same lines, have the same understanding, maybe talk about things we don't see eye to eye, adjust our points of view…"

Santana looks towards Brittany who nods and gives her hand resting on the armrest near Brittany's own hand a pat.

Some time passes and Dr. Richards clears her throat, her small warning to the following questions, "how happy would you say you are as a couple on a scale from one to ten?"

"Seven and a half." Brittany says without much thought, she waits for Santana to answer.

"Wait, does ten mean ultimately happy and one mean drowning in sorrow?" Santana looks at Dr. Richards for direction, things like this can be extremely important and it's always good to know beforehand.

"Just answer the way you feel is right."

Santana bobs her head in response; her eyes find Brittany's once again, "Are you ready?" They both nod at each other.

"Seven and a half"

"Seven and a half"

It's like they have the same mind, it makes Santana smile with satisfaction.

Dr. Richards jots down this information, "Ok, how happy would you say your partner is? Same scale and rules apply."

"How small are we allowed to divide the fractions? wait, are fractions even allowed? Do we have to answer the other question again?" Brittany rambles in confusion till she feels a hand pat hers.

"You can answer whatever you want." Santana whispers reassuringly.

"Just say whatever you feel is right." Dr. Richards affirms.

"Ok, let's do this,"

"One, two, three…"

"Seven and a half"

"Seven and a half"

Once again Dr. Richards records their answers. "How often do you have sex?"

The girls almost choke. Brittany actually turns her face away to look out the window for a brief moment.

"I don't understand the question." Santana says plainly.

"Are we still doing one to ten?"

"Yeah, because then would that mean ten is like, getting it on all the time in every place possible and one meaning hardly touching each other? What about eye-fucking?"

"I'm really confused right now, is ten like never ending orgasms?"

"Continuously….no breaks…."

"No sleep….twenty-four seven? Like vampires?" Just the thought is appealing to Brittany.

"Yeah, they don't need sleep; they can do it all day and night."

"No," Dr. Richards quickly shakes her head, "I just want an honest answer. How often do you have sex?"

"That's a hard question,"

"That's a hard question."

Dr. Richards leaves it at that and soldiers on, "How did you two meet?"

"It was in the Congo." Brittany says, remembering the first time she'd laid eyes on the beautiful woman sitting next to her.

"Kasai-Oriental, six years ago."

"Seven."

"Right, six or seven years ago."

Tell me if I should continue. Finals are done so now I have a lot of time to write, I thought I'd do this story based on a poster I saw floating around or Mrs. and Mrs. Lopez. I know this is a short chapter but I want to know if this story will be worth writing based on the feedback.