Brittana future AU. This is my first fanfic, I don't own Glee/characters etc. I just like the idea of Santana and Quinn in uniform :)

INERTIA
The tendency of an object in motion to remain in motion,
or an object at rest to remain at rest, unless acted upon by a force.

Chapter 1: Lady Killer

To say it was becoming a pattern was an understatement. Santana had awoken staring at unfamiliar ceilings, in rooms she barely recognized, more times than she was able to count. The elaborate ceiling rose which loomed above her was a gentle reminder that, this time at least, she was in an apartment she knew her way around. Turning her head, she squinted against the light which was sneaking through the gap where the curtains had refused to meet. The alarm clock on the dresser by the window was obscured by an object she was unable to make out in the half-light, but she could still see enough to realize she would need to sneak out within the next 15 minutes if she was going to make it to work on time. She had to. It was her first day.

Santana had never been good at first days. Her apprehension was the very reason she had showed up at the door to this particular apartment the night before; a bottle of wine and a killer smile were her ticket every time. Turning back the other way, Santana cringed as the movement of her body caused the mattress to creak. Gritting her teeth as she continued to inch her way off the bed, Santana was relieved to see the woman did not move at all. Face down, her blonde hair sprawled across the pillow, she appeared perfectly content. The black sheet covered only the lower half of her body and the tattoo on her lower back was partly visible.

Creeping around the room, Santana picked up her clothes and pulled on black biker boots over her skinny jeans. Scanning the room, she was unable to find her shirt and she held her breath as she pulled open the top draw of the dresser to 'borrow' a white tank top. Slipping it on over her bra, she picked up her leather jacket and headed out down the hall to the bathroom. She always felt like a fraud when she used the spare toothbrush in the yellow duck cup under the sink. It was one of those allowances which should be made for a girlfriend and not for the girl who only came by when it was convenient. Santana hated being that girl. Finding a hair tie in the bathroom drawer, she combed her fingers through knots and hoped the bun she fashioned it into appeared intentionally messy.

Walking back down the hallway, Santana stepped lightly and was grateful to have carpet underfoot. The last thing she wanted was to wake the woman. She hadn't come for conversation. Pausing outside Alice's bedroom door, she peered around the corner hoping the woman would still be asleep, and was relieved to see Alice had not moved at all. It was tradition to leave a note. That there had been enough encounters to warrant a tradition, concerned Santana.

'Have work, thanks for last night, talk soon - S'. She placed the note on the cold pillow she had occupied earlier and left the room without a parting glance.

Santana breathed in the cool morning air as she headed towards her car and, once again, told herself that it would be the last time. Forgetting someone was no easier with new faces in her bed, or late night calls to women she knew felt more for her than she did for them. She was ashamed to admit she felt nothing. None of them were ever who she wanted them to be.

At the age of 26, Santana Lopez had been forced to overcome many things. Her nerves were one thing she still struggled to control in new situations. She wore her faux confidence like a fancy dress costume, convincing everybody that she was someone she was not. The bitchy attitude and well perfected 'evil-eye' meant that most people were kept comfortably at arm's length and were only allowed closer if Santana desired it. She rarely did. She had friends, plenty of them, but besides her two closest friends from High School, even those who knew her reasonably well had been fooled by her nonchalant, cocky facade.

She pulled her car into a reserved parking space and sat, gripping the steering wheel tightly, as she took several long, calming breaths. It was her first day as the newest member of the city's Strategic Response Squad. The SRS was made up of an elite group of police officers who were hand-picked to help fill the operational gap between the regular duties officers and the Special Weapons and Tactics unit. While regular officers were still called as back up to most scenes, they were often lead by a group of SRS officers when the crimes were particularly violent or posed risks to people or places of interest. Other cases were dealt with exclusively by the SRS when the Superintendent decided a case required a particular brand of discretion or higher brand of expertise. In the few short years the SRS had been in operation, the general crime rate in the city had seen a rapid decline, with the drug trade being the only obvious barb in its side.

First days left Santana feeling ill, the past having set an ugly precedent she hoped never to have to experience again. Breathing deeply once more, as the magnitude of her new job hit her all at once, Santana looked up at the old warehouse which would serve as her base for the next three months. Minimum. After a successful probationary period, the young Senior Constable would be offered a twelve month contract with the squad. At the conclusion of this she would be required to sit a full critique and evaluation before further employment was considered. First day nerves aside, Santana was confident she would be standing in the exact same position in twelve months' time.

The nerves she was trying desperately to ward off had nothing to do with the job itself. Her confidence in that area was far from a show. She knew she was brilliant. Anyone who had worked with her would be lying if they denied it, and her age and current position spoke volumes. Her concerns, however, were endless. One of these lay with meeting her new colleagues, all of whom would be older than her and some of which would have less seniority.

At 6:30 am, she exited her car and headed for the large metal door at the side of the building. Swiping her key card, she paused briefly waiting to hear the door click to unlock, and she then proceeded to push her way in.

She walked up a steep flight of stairs, pausing briefly at the top to reacquaint herself with her surroundings after her tour the week before. Entering the unisex locker room, Santana made her way over to the locker she had been allocated. Turning the combination dial right, then left, then right again she unlocked it and couldn't hide the feeling of pride she felt at seeing her crisp, new uniform folded on the upper shelf.

"We'll aren't you an eager beaver Lopez. Trying to impress the Boss on day one, eh?" Santana turned to see a burly, dark haired officer sneering at her from his locker on the opposite side of the room.

"I don't believe we've met. Call me Santana." Her voice was steady and verging closer to matter-of-fact than polite. The man raised his eyebrows at her and his tight-lipped smirk made him look like a villain from a children's cartoon.

"I'll be calling you Lopez, thanks all the same. All the guys 'round here tend to use surnames." Santana was sickened by his self-satisfied demeanour and, even though they hadn't previously met, she suspected his name was Karofsky. Her conversation with Inspector Holliday had included colorful descriptions of each of her new colleagues, and while the man in front of her could have been Hudson, he didn't look nearly as dopey as the Inspector had implied. If this was Karofsky, Santana also knew that he was a Sergeant, ranking him above her. She offered a half smile before turning back to her locker, placing her bag and jacket inside and retrieving her uniform. Santana made to head towards the female change room wing when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Most of the guys just change out here, you know." His tone was verging on threatening, but she sucked in another breath and ignored his comment.

"You're not hassling the new girl already are you, Karofsky? Don't be a jerk." Her suspicions regarding the man's identity were confirmed, and Santana turned at the unfamiliar voice to find a blonde officer with shaggy, shoulder length hair opening the locker next to her own. She recognized the blonde from her tour the week before and the woman's incredible physique had made her quite disappointed that they would be colleagues.

"Me, a jerk? Really Quinn? That's how you're going to speak to your favorite crew member in front of the newbie? I'm just explaining the way we do things around here." Santana almost laughed at the change in Karofsky's tone and body language at the arrival of the officer. Grabbing her own uniform, she approached Santana and placed an encouraging hand on her back, ushering her towards the change room. Once inside, they both dumped their freshly pressed clothes on the bench behind the door and began to change.

"It's Santana, right? Santana Lopez?" The officer smiled as she spoke. In true Santana fashion she instantly began over thinking this interaction, too, and wondered if the smile was genuine. The woman looked at her intently and Santana was sure she saw the faintest hint of a smirk on the woman's lips as she removed her top before reaching for her shirt. Santana shook her head briefly to remove any such thoughts from her mind. Despite her track record with women, she was always professional when it came to the job and never crossed the line, no matter how tempting.

"Yeah, I'm Santana."

"Quinn." The officer responded with an assured nod.

"What's your first name, Quinn?" Santana asked, trying to make polite conversation as she removed the tank top she'd borrowed from Alice's and replaced it with a navy blue t-shirt, followed by a royal blue button up.

"I'm sorry?" The woman's intonation changed significantly and Santana looked up to see a confused, almost pained expression on the officer's face. "My first name is Quinn, surname Fabray. Sergeant Fabray." The officer finished with a tone Santana couldn't quite read.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought, you know…Quinn can also be a surname and Karofsky said all of you guys tend to go by surnames, so I assumed you were Somebody Quinn, rather than Quinn Somebody." Santana felt her face flush uncharacteristically. She was rambling.

"Santana, Karofsky would have said all of 'the guys' go by surnames around here. He was being a prick. He is a prick." She paused and let out a sigh. "The worst kind." Quinn shook her head slowly as she said those last words.

"What kind is the worst kind?" Santana asked, barely recognising her own tone now.

"The 'in charge' kind, he's one of your superiors and he's in my SRV."

Santana knew, from her conversation with Inspector Holliday, that there were two Strategic Response Vehicles as well as a number of regular cars at their disposal. She had been assigned SR 2 and Senior Sergeant Schuester was her crew leader.

"Okay, so when Karofsky insisted he would be calling me Lopez, what the hell was that about." Santana was on edge and already feeling defensive before Quinn had a chance to respond, her hesitation obvious.

"You kind of have a reputation, Santana. It would have set Karofsky off. I told you. He's a prick." Her tone was almost sympathetic now.

Santana stared blankly at Quinn in response, hoping she would elaborate.

"You do know what I'm referring to, don't you?"

Santana shrugged and proceeded to fold the clothes she had removed and place them in a pile on the bench. She was now both furious and incredibly confused. She had hoped the only reputation she had come with was the contents of her resume; someone who was far more competent than their years of service would suggest. She shook her head at Quinn's question and bent down to tie the laces on her black combat boots.

"Look, our guys talk to the regs down at the PD. A lot of them are drinking buddies, you know. Any reputation you had there is going to follow you here. Umm-" Quinn appeared to be searching for the most appropriate phrasing for something she was clearly embarrassed to have had to bring up. "They call you...the lady killer."

Santana's eyes shot up to meet Quinn who looked apologetic and quickly picked up her bag and other clothes before heading out to the main locker room. Shaking her head, Santana finished tying her other boot and sat down on the bench. Day one. Professional or not, the choices she made in her private life had suddenly thrown a new challenge into her very first day. Considering what she had faced on other firsts, however, this information paled in comparison.

Morning briefing was 7am. All officers from both shift one, which had just begun, and shift three, which ended in an hour's time, were present. Inspector Holliday sat on the desk at the front of the room and positioned beside her was one of their Intelligence Officers, Artie Abrams.

Santana had taken a moment for herself, admiring her new uniform in the mirror after the other officers had left the locker room. She was proud of her accomplishments, but the shadow hanging over the unknown of her day darkened her enthusiasm. She was the last to appear at briefing, the minute hand arriving on the twelve as she eyed the clock above the Inspector. Glancing around the room she spotted a vacant seat next to Quinn, but sitting there would mean she would be flanked, on the other side by Karofsky. Instead, Santana positioned herself on the opposite side of the room beside a lanky dark haired officer who immediately offered his hand.

"Mike Chang." He whispered.

"Santana Lopez, pleased to meet you." She kept her voice low and they both turned their attention to the front where Inspector Holliday was arranging post-it notes on the wall behind her.

"Alriiight SR Creeewww, how are we all doing this fine morning?" The expression in the Inspector's voice struck Santana as somehow more fitting for a talk show host introducing their first guest, or a rock star trying to rev up a crowded venue.

"Now, first things first, we need to welcome a new member today, let's give it up for Senior Constable Santanaaaa Lopezzzzzzz." Santana laughed at the introduction as the rest of the SR crew applauded.

"Okay, now you all need to be aware that Senior Constable Lopez comes to us with quite a reputation." The Inspector began nodding her head at 'quite' and continued for a few seconds at the end of her sentence. In those few seconds Santana felt her face flush for the second time in the space of half an hour, and stupidly stole a glance in Quinn's direction. Santana was confused by, what looked like an expression of frustration on the girl's face. She then found her gaze shift to Karofsky whose Cheshire Cat grin made her blood boil.

"I personally hope that this is a reputation you intend to uphold at Strategic Response." Inspector Holliday finished with a wink and Santana became suddenly concerned that there could be a dual meaning behind the Inspector's words.

Holliday continued. "This brilliant young officer is not only going to be an amazing asset to SR 2, but I think many of you will benefit from her skills, discipline and experience. Senior Constable, is there anything you would like to say at this point? The floor is all yours." This was followed by a dramatic flourish reminiscent of many a gift shop girl on television games shows.

Clearing her throat, Santana made an effort to speak with the assurance her colleagues would be certain to see from her out in the field. "I appreciate the introduction, Inspector Holliday, I fully intend to maintain those high expectations and I know I will learn a great deal from each officer I have the opportunity to work with."

The members of the briefing room offered polite applause which Inspector Holliday waved off in order to get a quick response in. "Well we're certainly lucky to have you and seriously…", the word was spoken behind her hand like a poorly disguised secret, "…call me Holly. Holiday is a dirty word around here, you lot barely get a weekend, right?" Holly grinned, nodding her head and making eye contact around the room as if to drum up support for her pun.

"Righty-ho, let's get down to business. Abrams do your thing."

"At this stage we have no further Intel on Hernandez versus the Irish, but make sure your SRV speakers and CommSys are operational at all times because if we locate any info on a shipment or a meeting we will need all units on it ASAP." Santana nervously fiddled with the cord of her Communication System, rolling the ear piece between her thumb and forefinger and pressing the receiver on and off with her pinky.

"Um, Senior Constable," Santana froze at the arrogant tone Abrams had suddenly taken. She was aware it was directed towards her, but had no idea why. "Unless you are going for some elaborate Morse Code-esque communication style right now, I would appreciate you keeping your hands away from your CommSy." Santana raised an eyebrow at the wheel chair bound nerd, suddenly resentful of his bowl shaped haircut and Clark Kent glasses. Noticing that she appeared puzzled, he wheeled himself towards her and pointed behind her, signalling for her to look through the glass partition into his control room. She flinched as she felt him pressing the receiver on and off against her chest as she observed her own face on one of the electronic screens with the word 'INCOMING' appearing on every second push.

Unable to bring herself to apologize, she settled for a nod of her head and a quiet "Gotcha" in recognition of his condescending demonstration.

As he wheeled himself back towards the front of the room Santana rolled her eyes and sighed. Abrams continued his breathy ramble on their current Intel which, Santana believed, could have been summarized in about four dot points on one of Holly's post-its.

The briefing concluded at exactly 7:30 am and as the group disbanded Holly insisted Shift 1 remain behind in order for her to do the rounds acquainting Santana with each of them.

She learned that Senior Sergeant Shannon Bieste headed up SR 1 which included Sergeant Dave Karofsky, Senior Constable Quinn Fabray and a tall dopey looking Constable by the name of Finn Hudson. SR 2 was headed, as she was aware, by Senior Sergeant William Schuester and included Sergeant Michael Chang. The final member of SR 2 was Senior Constable Lauren Zizes, who looked as though she'd be short of breath simply walking to their vehicle, but could probably kill someone in a headlock in five seconds flat. Santana smiled with relief that she had been placed with SR 2 and hoped the groupings were permanent.

Both SRV's had been patrolling their respective grids for just on three hours. SR 2 had stopped for coffee at 9:30 am, but Santana could feel her stomach turning over and knew it was only a matter of time before the whole car heard it rumble. Lauren had insisted Santana ride up front on day one to familiarize herself with the vehicle's technology. She was aware that Strategic Response was a resource-heavy department, but Santana was in awe of the tools at her disposal. A Split screen SatNav showed their vehicle's position, as well as that of SR 1 and any other SR vehicle which was logged on in the field. A dual touch screen display allowed them access any files synced by Abrams back at the SRS warehouse, while simultaneously displaying any surveillance camera footage Abrams could access when the need arose.

Santana quickly learned that in many ways the SRS was above the law. Superintendent Sylvester had a wide circle of influence and there were even rumors among the SRS that her short stint as Mayor had been an undercover operation. Under Sylvester's command, the SRS were sanctioned to utilize anything and everything at their disposal if it could be justifiably used in the perpetuation of justice.

As they passed a Starbucks, Santana's stomach groaned audibly and without a word Mike circled the block and came to a halt outside the café.

"What'll it be? My shout." He offered Santana a grin and batted her hand away as he saw her reaching for her wallet. She settled for a plain bagel with mayonnaise instead of cream cheese and, after receiving orders from Will and Lauren in the back seat, Mike headed inside. Tapping her fingers against the door frame Santana struck up a conversation with Lauren and Will about protocols.

"So can any of us drive this thing or is it always Mike?"

"We share it around, Mike's the best in dicey situations when we need a few well controlled and crafty manoeuvres to get to a call." Lauren spoke with a tone of admiration for Mike's apparent skills.

"I only drive when I have to." Will spoke flatly as he stared out the window and Santana turned, making eye contact with Lauren who quickly swiped her hand horizontally across her neck signally for her to drop the topic.

Santana could see Mike heading back towards their vehicle, two paper bags in hand, as her CommSys buzzed against her chest. The vehicle's speakers beeped, followed by an announcement from Abrams.

"SR 1 and 2 immediate support required at the Park Street shopping complex, group of six teenagers terrorizing staff and shoplifting, some may be armed. Call out response now." His voice still sounded breathy, but with more urgency, and Santana unbuckled her seat belt and launched herself to the left buckling herself into the driver's seat and pressed the green speaker button just as a confused Mike jumped into the passenger seat.

"SR 2 responding, two minutes out." Without a second thought Santana shifted the vehicle into drive and turned on the emergency lights. Sirens alarmed people. Sirens spelled disaster and, in some cases, sirens attracted followers. Santana always avoided the use of a siren unless absolutely necessary.

Upon arrival at the shopping complex all four officers exited the vehicle and checked their CommSys, each lifting their ear pieces into their right ears. Santana opened up the vehicle's hatch and handed the other three their bulletproof vests before grabbing her own. Each then took a loaded handgun from the metal chest in the floor of the hatch and holstered their weapons.

"Come on Abrams, we need a location, we're parked in the East wing and heading inside now."

Santana sensed some frustration in Lauren's tone, but didn't have the capacity to read into it as she felt the adrenalin begin to surge throughout her body.

"They've just entered Barrenger's Department Store and they are on the Ground Level, Toy Department."

The three ran up the escalator from the car park and straight ahead into the Ground Level entrance of Barrenger's. Will indicated for Santana to go left, Lauren to go right and he motioned for Mike to continue straight ahead as he asked Abrams how far away back up was.

Santana walked briskly down the far left of the store and immediately saw two teenagers trying to intimidate a female staff member. Tapping her CommSy she informed her team "Two on the left."

Approaching the two with caution she heard Will's voice in her ear. "Copy that, I have two in the center."

"Copy. Nothing here, moving left." Santana heard Lauren's voice in her ear piece as she saw the other officer round a large display cabinet and begin walking towards her. One of the teens was clearing out the cash register, while a second was holding a knife to another staff member.

"SR 1 on scene and they have two perps tied out the front of the store." Abrams announced.

Will took the lead, raising his gun. "POLICE! Put down your weapons and get down on the ground, now."

Santana and Lauren had their weapons trained on the unarmed teens, one of which made eye contact with Santana and swiftly made a run for it through the center of the store.

"I've got her." She yelled and holstered her weapon as she gave chase. Exiting the store she noticed the remaining members of SR 1 and yelled for Shannon, signalling the perp she was after. Shannon followed, running after her, but she was nearing the teen and grabbed the girl's hoodie, dragging her to the ground.

"Your day just got real bad, sweetheart." She grinned smugly as she kept one hand on the back of the girl's neck and lifted herself up off the girl with her other hand and reached for a plastic tie to secure the girl's wrists.

Uniformed officers from the local precinct marched the six teens out of the complex as the SR crew headed back to their SRV's.

Mike took the driver's seat once again and handed Santana her lunch. "I think you've earned this."

She smiled and had the bagel unwrapped before they were even out of the car park. She opened it up, balancing it on her knees as she wrestled with the small packet of mayonnaise.

The SRS warehouse was only five minutes up the road and Santana had downed the bagel in 4.5.

Entering the locker room she removed her vest and felt a pat on the back from Shannon. "Not a bad first day." Santana smiled feeling proud as the Senior Sergeant headed out towards the vehicle bay.

Feeling a warm breath on the back of her neck she turned suddenly, only to find herself face to face with Karofsky. "Yeah, well done Lepez. Saw you went down on a girl on the first day. Not bad. But you really need to learn to wipe your face after." With his signature smirk, he reached a finger towards her and touched her chin before she threw her fist against his hand. "Don't fucking touch me." Her pulse rate soared. Continuing to smirk he brought the offending finger to his mouth and licked the mayonnaise off before scoffing and walking away.

The act left her feeling sick to her stomach and she suspected her anxiety was in anticipation of what was yet to come. Glancing towards the entrance she saw Quinn staring with the same disgusted look on her face, but the woman met Santana's gaze only briefly as she turned and walked the other way.