Well, hello there! Don't you all look gorgeous!

It's my first Brittana fic and I must admit I'm rather excited about the whole thing! I might even go as far as squeal a bit! (Maybe. Ok, I totally will.)

I used to write Naomily stuff because let's face it, pure awesomeness, but lately, with the Brittana break-up and the creepy eye contact with the creepiest lesbian in Louisville Glee has been putting us through, I've been feeling like Brittana needs me much more than Naomily at the moment. (As we all know, Naomily's probably having sex on every beach in India as we speak. I think they're good). So yeah, I thought I would add my small contribution to the other great fics already out there!

For those of you who were maybe reading my Naomily fic, don't worry. They're still my babies.

Ok, I think this note has gone way out of hands. Shall we?

Brittany runs a soothing hand through her son's short blond hair, softly kissing his temple. She hates when she has to leave him for a night shift. It's not like she's not going to see him in the morning- she always tries to come back before he wakes up- but still, he's been having nightmares lately and Brittany knows how scared they used to make her when she was little. She smiles when he mumbles in his sleep, gently closing his bedroom's door before she makes her way to her apartment's tiny living room.

Ms. Bennett is sitting on the old, green couch, knitting peacefully. She looks up when Brittany comes in, putting on her coat in a hurry as she curses under her breath, wondering like always where she can lose her goddamn purse in such a small place.

"It's on the kitchen counter dear", Ms. Bennett mutters, British accent still tainting everything she says even after forty years spent in Ohio, "And I think I saw your gloves in the bathroom."

"Thank you Ms. B." Brittany replies with a grateful smile, quickly zipping up her coat before she grabs her gloves, indeed founding them in the bathroom. She puts on an old black beanie, messily tucking some strands of her hair inside it before she takes her purse, checking if she has everything she needs. "Shit, I'm so late. Ok Ms. B, I'm off now. If Oliver has nightmares again, just give him-"

"-warm milk with a tad of honey. I know dear", the old woman completes with an amused grin, looking at Brittany over her glasses, "Now go, I wouldn't want you to miss your bus." She adds with a move of her hand towards the front door, prompting the blonde to just leave already.

Brittany chuckles, hand on the doorknob. "Call me if anything goes wrong. And, thanks a lot. For everything."

"You're welcome dear."

Brittany quickly goes down the three flights of stairs leading to the front door of her building, absentmindedly noticing how the Colombian couple living on the second floor is apparently fighting again and how someone has left a pile of garbage near a door on the first floor, a bad odor consequently floating in the air.

She scrunches up her nose, glad when she finally gets to the front door. She pushes hard with her shoulder while simultaneously giving a strategically placed kick of her foot, knowing too well how that door has been broken for the past year, the owner of the building refusing to do anything about it despite the countless times Brittany complained about it.

Finally, the door opens wide enough to let Brittany out, the crisp October air hitting her face as she breathes in deeply. She starts to make her way towards the bus stop a couple of blocks away from her own building, putting on her gloves in the process.

The air is cold and as Brittany walks the now familiar path, she focuses on the city noises instead of on how she has started to shiver a bit, her old coat way too thin for the cold weather that has been settling in for the past couple of weeks.

She had to buy a new microwave, the old one that she brought with her from Lima all those years ago having pretty much exploded in her face as she was making macaronis and therefore, some things like a new coat would just have to wait until next year.

The bus stop comes into view, Brittany grinning to herself when she realizes that she's, after all, on time.

The guy waiting next to her keeps looking at her and Brittany keeps looking at her feet, knowing that when you live in one of Cleveland's poorest neighborhood, you don't make useless eye contacts. With anyone.

The guy clears his throat, taking a small step in her direction.

"Can I buy you a cigarette?"

She shakes her head, subtly securing the purse on her shoulder. "I don't smoke. Sorry." She can't help but add the last word, her big heart seemingly always winning in the end.

He shrugs, spitting on the ground.

To her relief, she sees the white and blue bus making its way towards them, black smoke swirling out of the rooftop as it comes to a halt in front of them.

Brittany steps inside, grateful for the warmth engulfing her as she greets the driver with a smile.

Even though it's just a regular Wednesday night, the bus is crowded and Brittany finds a place between a man with the biggest belly she's ever seen and a woman talking animatedly on the phone, squeezing herself between the two.

She has gotten used to public transportations since she arrived in Cleveland, having no choice to use them since there's no way she could ever afford to buy a car. It's fine though. She has always liked people watching anyway.

Brittany pulls her old iPod out of her purse, aware that's it's far from being the newest model in stores, plugging in her bright pink earplugs and just like that, she's in her own little world.

Twenty minutes later, she steps out of the bus, completely amazed by the fact that in such a small amount of time, she arrived in a completely different part of Cleveland. The part where her apartment could fit in at least twenty times in the huge mansions now surrounding her.

Brittany sighs faintly, pulling a small piece of paper out of her pocket where she scribbled the address her boss gave her at the beginning of the week.

Another gust of wind makes its way inside her coat and she's grateful when she sees that the house she's looking for is actually not far. She doesn't even have to look at the numbers on the front doors; she can already guess by the couple of limos and all different kinds of sport cars parked in front of the house that it's the one.

Brittany is a bit self-conscious when she makes her way towards it, awkwardly walking next to a very well-dressed couple, obviously guests to the party, the woman checking out her outfit with a look of pure disdain.

Fortunately for her, they part at some point, the couple continuing towards the impressive wooden front door where a man wearing a black bowtie is waiting for them, Brittany circling around the house in order to get in from the back door, like her boss told her to.

As soon as she sets foot inside the house, the back door opening directly in a vast kitchen, someone grabs her arm, tugging her towards a small door before shoving a pile of clothes in her arm.

"What the-"

"Fuck Britt, I thought you had bailed on us or something." Juliet mumbles rapidly, staring at Brittany with furious eyes.

"Sorry, I took the bus a bit late and-"

"I don't care, what matters is that you're here now," she interrupts her again, shaking her head. Juliet is usually the one supervising when their boss is not around and even though she can be a bit intense, she's the closest thing Brittany has to a friend in Cleveland, "now please, go get changed and then we're immediately going to start serving the champagne."

Brittany nods, pulling her hair up in a ponytail. "It's fine, I changed back home. Just show me a place where I can drop my purse and I'm ready to start."

Juliet brings her to a corner where all the other waiters and waitresses have already dropped their coats and bags in a heap, Brittany putting her things on top of the others.

"Put on your name tag and let's go."

Brittany clips the golden name tag on her white shirt before smoothing out her black pants, rearranging the trademark black tie all of the waitresses of La Vie en Rose, the restaurant she works for, are obligated to wear at all time. She thinks it kinda makes her look ridiculous but she can't really argue; money has got to come from somewhere. Plus, Juliet is practically glaring at her at this point.

"Come on Britt, go, go, go."

She points to a tray full of half filled champagne glasses, Brittany expertly grabbing it, carefully putting it on top of her right hand.

Before she goes, Juliet motions to the double doors presumably leading to where the guests are, "Just so you know, it's a cocktail thrown by one of the biggest lawyer firm of the country to celebrate the potential opening of a new office in Cleveland or something equally fascinating." She rolls her eyes. "Anyway, you'll be covering the living room. Just make sure that when your tray is empty, you come back to the kitchen to get another one. There are at least a hundred guests tonight, we need to be as efficient as we can be."

Brittany bites her bottom lip. As many catering job as she did in the past, she always gets a bit nervous knowing how clumsy she can be. "Understood."

Juliet smiles tightly, already turning around in the unbelievably busy kitchen to talk to other employees.

Brittany sighs again, putting on her best fake smile as she gets out of the kitchen, tray of champagne still in hand.

Immediately, she notices how richly decorated the house is. Beautiful dark wood floors, satin covered couches and silky, floral curtains are one of the few things that catch her attention before a couple of guests start to grab glasses from her tray.

She smiles even though most of them don't even bother to look at her, let alone say thank you.

The next thing that Brittany notices as she discreetly makes her way between the many groups of guests, all deep in conversation, is how posh everyone looks.

There is not one woman that isn't wearing what looks like an expensive diamond necklace or pearl earrings and practically all the men are sporting obviously tailored suits and tuxedos.

As usual, this all makes her feel uncomfortable; her fifteen dollars polyester shirt seems so out of place here.

It's not long until her tray is empty and she quickly makes her way back to the kitchen, bumping into other waitresses on her way in. The kitchen is filled with employees from the restaurant, all making sure that the night goes as planned. The atmosphere is warm with all the ovens working at once and Brittany feels beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she gets a new tray full of odd looking appetizers, actually eager to get back to the living room where at least some air is circulating.

The rest of the night goes by rather uneventfully, Brittany growing more and more tired as more guests seem to arrive. Even though it doesn't look like it, being a waitress can be an exhausting job and Brittany can feel the muscles of her right arm growing sore as she carries yet another tray of appetizers.

It's nearly midnight, the guests not showing any signs of leaving soon and Brittany wishes more than ever she could be at home with Oliver.

She goes back to the kitchen with another empty tray, cracking her neck before rubbing her tired blue eyes.

"Britt, as I was saying to the others, we're going to start passing the desserts and after we're done with that and with the cleaning, we'll most likely be all able to leave." Juliet informs her, pointing to trays now filled with individual chocolate mousses.

"Ok, perfect." Brittany nods, feeling a bit more enthusiastic now that she knows she might be leaving soon.

The guests seem to be really enjoying the dessert, some of them even going as far as complimenting Brittany even though she honestly has nothing to do with it. She smiles nonetheless, tiredness making her thoughts a bit blurry. She has been working almost seventy hours this week and she badly needs some rest.

A couple of mousses are left in her tray and so she starts to make her way towards a group of people talking in the far corner of the living room.

Just as she reaches them, Brittany stops dead in her tracks, a couple of feet away from the group.

A woman facing away from her seems to be leading the discussion, hands motioning wildly in the air as people surrounding her seem to be listening to whatever she's saying.

Brittany feels a flutter in her chest as she runs her eyes over the familiar curve of the woman's back, willing her exhausted mind to stop imagining things.

It's not her. It's not her. Now breathe.

Santana takes a sip of her now lukewarm champagne, half listening to one of her colleagues' wife babbling about her supposedly amazing hot yoga class. It's not that Claire isn't a sweet woman or anything. It's just that after five years spent in that incredibly snob and uptight environment, Santana feels a bit suffocated. As one of the two women working as associates in her lawyer firm, she has grown tired of those women only spending away their husbands' money in pointless pedicures and spa retreats in California or whatnot.

She's aware this makes her sound like a total bitch but she doesn't really care. She has never hidden the fact that she's proud of what she has accomplished through the years- working her way to the top hasn't been easy but in the end, Santana made it.

But for tonight, she has to put on her professional face and endure this awfully boring cocktail.

She nods randomly, hoping it somehow fits in the course of what Claire is saying, absentmindedly wondering if the desserts are about to come soon so she can eventually get the hell out of here and go back to her hotel room.

"Lopez, come over here." A gruff man's voice shouts from behind Santana's back, Claire frowning when she realizes the focus is not on her anymore.

Santana's actually grateful for the distraction and with a tight smile to the circle of married women she had been caught into since she arrived earlier, she makes her way towards a smaller group of men, all fellow associates from her firm back in New York.

"What the fuck do you want Peterson?" She asks with a scowl, quickly finishing her champagne before dropping it on some random waitress's tray.

"First, I want to tell you that you look damn fine in that dress." Peterson replies with a smirk, Santana not missing the way he exchanges suggestive eye contacts with some of the men there.

It's been like that since Santana started working as a lawyer; her male colleagues have never really taken her seriously even though she does a much better job than all of those assholes combined.

Sure, she can't really deny that she's good looking but since high school, she has toned down her sexy outfits and provocative skirts. She realized the hard way that this wouldn't get her the credibility she had desperately been seeking when she got out of university. And even though she has managed to acquire this credibility since then, her colleagues still seem to believe she's just a nice ass.

Santana hates it.

She narrows her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

Peterson shrugs, Santana noticing with disgust that he has a small mustard stain on his light blue shirt.

"No, just that you look hot Lopez."

Santana takes a deep breath. That's another thing she has toned down since her early years at McKinley High- her temper.

"What do you think of Cleveland so far in terms of potential clients?" She asks instead, smoothing down the front of her simple black dress. She doesn't really know how this makes her look apparently so hot. Hell, she's not even wearing heels.

The change of topic seems to work and not two minutes later, they're all deep in conversation, Santana surprised that she has everyone's attention as she exposes her own ideas of how their Cleveland firm could actually make a lot of benefits.

She makes a lot of hands gestures, a habit she has developed back in college whenever she had to expose her opinions to a group of people, "I've actually managed to get in touch with a guy that works in one of Cleveland's most important firm and he told me that-"

"Awesome, chocolate mousses!"

She frowns at being interrupted, Peterson completely ignoring her as he stares at something over her shoulder.

Santana sighs impatiently, turning around to see what all that fuss is about.

And that's when she suddenly feels like the room just got so much smaller, when all she can see is that very specific shade of blue she hasn't seen in years.

Brittany's there.

Brittany S. Pierce and all the memories she carries with her.

Standing right in front of her and looking probably as shocked as she does right now.

Santana swallows, letting out a shaky breath. "Brittany..." She barely hears herself whisper but she knows Brittany has when the blonde instantly drops her gaze to the floor.

Santana's eyes quickly scan the woman in front of her, noticing how much more mature she looks and she still can't quite grasp what's happening. A boring cocktail in Cleveland is the last place she'd ever think of meeting Brittany again.

"Hum, Earth to Blondie?" Brittany hears the same man say, earning himself a couple of laughs from the other men gathered around. "I think we'd all like some of those mousses, if you wouldn't mind serving us."

She blushes a deep shade of red, shaking her head.

Santana is right here and it feels so surreal that she had completely forgotten how she was standing in the middle of a crowded living room, precariously holding a tray full of chocolate mousses.

She clears her throat, willing herself to focus. "Oh, uh, sure. I'm very sorry sir, may I offer you one?"

The man who talked to her nods, grabbing a dessert from her tray.

She can feel Santana's big brown eyes still on her, making her feel unbelievably self-conscious when she realizes she's wearing her waitress uniform. She feels her ears burning as she quickly passes her tray around, not even bothering to offer it to Santana before she turns around, heading towards the kitchen.

When she gets there, she's relieved to see it's less busy than before and she lets herself lean on the wall near the doors, closing her eyes.

She hadn't noticed yet how fast her heart was beating.

She allows her mind to wander for a second to the way Santana looked- still gorgeous but with something definitely different that she can't quite pinpoint. She wonders what Santana's life is like now. What she's doing. Where she lives. These are things she has tried not to dwell on over the past seven years but right now, those unanswered questions come flooding her mind all at the same time.

After a few moments, Brittany takes a deep breath, opening her eyes.

All of this doesn't matter anyway. It's not like she's going to see Santana again. This was just an isolated coincidence in the course of both of their lives. For now, she has a five years old boy waiting for her at home and it's getting pretty late.

Brittany pushes herself off the wall, noticing Juliet coming towards her with a small smile.

"B, we're done here. You can go home."

Brittany grins back. "Awesome."

"Are you ok? You look a bit... pale."

She shrugs, dismissing Juliet's concern with a wave of her hand. "I'm just tired. Nothing a good night of sleep won't solve." Thing is, with all the thoughts still plaguing her mind, she's pretty sure she's not going to get much sleep tonight.

Juliet's not having any of it though. "You're overworking yourself. You should really take a few days off, relax a bit."

"You and I both know I can't afford a few days off." The blonde replies with a small sigh whilst putting on her coat, trying to look cheerful. Brittany has always hated dumping her problems on other people- she prefers dealing with them alone and keep a positive attitude in front of others.

"Yeah well, think about it." Juliet says, quickly hugging her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok, see you tomorrow!"

She's left alone in the now almost empty kitchen, letting her hair loose from the tight ponytail she has been sporting for the whole night before putting her beanie back on.

Santana used to love when she was wearing a beanie.

Brittany frowns, willing her brain to not go there. Those memories are better left in that box at the back of her mind.

Grabbing her purse, she heads towards the back door, instantly shivering when she realizes a light, cold rain has now started falling. Of course, she doesn't have an umbrella with her.

She quickly walks down the house's alley, zipping her coat as high as she can even though she knows it's kind of pointless to do so. Water is already starting to seep though her cheap shoes anyway.

"Brittany!"

The blonde stops dead in her tracks, heart skipping a beat.

Please don't talk to me.

"Brittany, wait."

She bites her bottom lip, knowing it's too late when Santana arrives in front of her, holding a huge black umbrella.

She's wearing a beautiful blue coat, designer handbag resting in the crook of her elbow and Brittany instantly feels ashamed of her own brown purse, far too aware of the strap that has been broken for months.

"I'm in Cleveland for a month to make sure that the firm I work for would benefit from opening an office here. We're not really sure if the market corresponds to what we specialize in, which is civil rights and well, I'm the one they're sending to assess if it is..."

Brittany blinks, not quite certain why Santana's telling her all that, at one in the morning, in the rain, when they haven't spoken to each other in years. The only thing she knows, and she only does because all those years apparently haven't changed how well she can read the brunette even when she's not trying, is that Santana's nervous. She can tell from the way the other girl is playing with the silver bracelet on her wrist.

She blinks again, realizing Santana's still talking. "So yeah, I was thinking that we could maybe... I don't know... catch up?" The brunette trails off, gaze dropping to the ground.

Brittany doesn't really know what to say. Her heart has started beating weird again and she wonders why Santana would even want them to catch up.

"You don't have to, obviously. I was merely suggesting..." Santana says awkwardly after a moment, fishing for something in her coat's pocket, "Anyway, this is my phone number... If you ever, you know..."

Still, Brittany doesn't react, her mind confused with how much she actually wants to grab the small piece of paper. She has never been good at dealing with conflicting emotions.

"Please, just... take it..." Santana whispers, practically pushing the paper into Brittany's cold hand.

Her hand is warm and Brittany feels small tingles in her fingers, tingles that feel all too familiar.

"Good night Brittany." Santana says, still not meeting her eyes as she turns around, quickly making her way towards a black BMW parked in front of the house.

Small droplets of rain are rolling down her face as she clutches the paper tighter in her hand. It's only when she watches the car disappear from her sight that she feels like she can properly breathe again.

"Good night."

Oh man. The anxiousness that comes with the first chapter of a new fic. It makes me want to eat ice cream directly from the tub. Yes, I do tend to eat my emotions. Shut up.

I hope you guys liked it or are at least a tad intrigued! You'll get more of their background story in the next chapters, have no fear.

Until then, keep on being awesome. Seriously. You're making everyone around you jealous. Mwa.