So basically I wrote this little fic because my shipper heart sees Brittana in everything, everywhere. In particular, I got a surge of Brittana-spiration during my recent trip to the states, where I visited Las Vegas (among many other places), and caught a glimpse of a certain bar. I did get a few other ideas for one-shots while I was away that I'll probably write at some point or another. However, in the meantime, I am still working on the new chapter of WYHSB for those interested. I can't thank you all enough for your patience and for sticking with it. I seriously love you.

Thanks to beta!Jay as always and to MagicMica for being my little green lines. Title taken from the Sara Bareilles song "Vegas".

Las Vegas.

What better place to spend Spring Break than Sin City itself?

The place was party central – a virtual wonderland of misguided gambling, drunken mischief and sexual depravity... not that we really intended to participate in any of that.

Well, maybe the drinking part. And definitely some dancing... And perhaps the tiniest sprinkle of mischief. Hell, why go to one of the most exciting cities on earth if you weren't gonna get a little crazy?

We'd been planning this trip for weeks. When it came to Brittany, I think she was just happy enough to have some time off from the constant stress of college, regardless of where we went. And even though I was the one to suggest the idea of bright lights and glitzy hotels, if I were being totally honest, I knew that wherever we ended up spending our break would be fun. Time spent with Brittany was certainly never boring.

All throughout our freshman year, the two of us had been study buddies. We met on the first day of college, having taken seats next to each other at the back of the same Intro Psych class. At first, I didn't even notice her sitting next to me. I had my arms folded and my lips pursed, attention focused solely on the professor who was spouting off the outline for our curriculum at the front of the room. I was so zeroed in on listening to his lesson plan that the sudden hard elbow to the boob took the breath right out of my lungs. Brittany panicked when my gaze first landed on her. She had one arm buried deep in her backpack, rummaging around, looking like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. When she finally found what she had been searching for, she held up a bright pink and purple Koosh pen for me to see. The glare melted from my face as she blushed sheepishly. Something in her eyes made me soften. With a muttered sorry and an apologetic smile, I was completely won over.

And when I went to my next Intro Psych class, I decided to take the same seat.

The two of us became fast friends; at first, sharing notes in the campus library after classes, and then later, meeting up at one of the local coffee shops to unwind or just hang out. I soon realized that Brittany was becoming one of my favorite people... and that was saying a lot considering how much I hated almost everyone I met. She was sweet and funny and kind, if not a bit strange at times. But that was all just part of her charm. I didn't even mind that I had to help her with a lot of our assignments. I mean, for most people, I wouldn't have had the patience. But she just tried so hard and always got so down on herself when things didn't click right away. And I never could stand to see that pout.

Everything with Brittany just felt... easy. The drive over to Vegas from our home at UCLA was spent singing along to old 90's hits and playing a very complex game of "I spy"... which I lost miserably. And then, when the woman at the hotel desk said the only available room had a double bed and we'd have to share for the next few nights, that didn't even bother me - despite the fact that I hatesharing with anyone. Only child syndrome or whatever.

But it was Brittany. So it was fine.

Now that we're unpacked and dressed up for a big night, we're strolling down the strip in search of our first stop: food. It isn't long before Brittany spots a place she seems super excited about and grabs me by the arm to pull me over.

Twin Peaks.

When I see the scantily clad girl waving people inside, I know that our first night of trouble is well and truly about to begin.

"Let's eat here!" Brittany beams, some of her blonde hair flicking me in the face as she whips around.

"Why Britt? You wanna ogle the lumberjack ladies while we share a basket of fries?" I smirk. She knows I'm gay. I know she's bi. It's just another thing that makes our friendship easy. We get each other.

"Come on! It'll be fun."

She seems so pumped about this wannabe-Hooters joint that I just can't deny her. We let the slender blonde at the door show us to a table and hand us a couple of menus. The bar is full of both women and men, drinking and cheering as some of the waitresses twist hula hoops around their ultra toned bare stomachs. Their barely-there, knotted plaid shirts and short shorts really don't leave a whole lot to the imagination. But that doesn't seem to bother anyone. They all wear the so-called "uniform" pretty damn well.

Brittany is practically bouncing in her seat while she takes it all in. "I've never been to a place like this before."

I grin and glance down to my menu. "Just don't tip them too well, okay? I know these chicks are hot but this isn't gonna be our last stop tonight. There's plenty more fun shit we can do after we've eaten and had a few drinks."

"Mmkay." She hums, the smile still firmly planted on her cheeks.

A different blonde comes back to take our order. She's flirting even more than the one who showed us in. We get some buffalo wings, chicken tenders and fire fries to share. We don't wanna fill up too much though. Gotta save some room for all that alcohol.

We kick it off with two Captain Morgan and cokes.

The busty blonde waitress winks at me as she shimmies away to get our drinks.

"Are we gonna play blackjack tonight?" Brittany asks me suddenly, a look of wonderment on her face.

I giggle. "If you want to, sure."

She nods. "In The Hangover they played blackjack."

I chuckle again. "You wanna have a night like The Hangover?"

"Mhmm." She beams. "Everything except the roofies part."

This time my laugh is sharp and loud. "So let's see... you wanna kidnap a tiger," I start listing things on my fingers, "Steal a cop car, marry a hooker and pull out one of your own teeth?"

"Of course not." She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm not a dentist, Santana. I can't pull out my own tooth."

"My bad." I snigger. "How about we just see where the night takes us for now?"

"I guess I'm good with that." She shrugs, smile never fading.

A lot of food and a lot more alcohol later, I realize that this might be our last stop of the night after all. We got a bit carried away with our drinks during the meal, and then after the meal, and then at the bar where we proceeded to do a whole bunch of shots.

I should have known better really. Once you get into the shots, you may as well kiss the rest of your plans goodbye. It's like a killer right hook to the chin at the end of a boxing match - it's only a matter of time before you hit the floor.

Now we're bustin' a move to some lame house music but soaking up every minute of it. I've got my hands resting loosely on Brittany's hips while she shimmies to the beat. She's got such natural rhythm. If we weren't such good friends, I'd almost be jealous. But even though I feel like my moves are kinda clunky, the dull sparkle of intoxication in my limbs and the way she's moving so smoothly against me is helping me to find my groove.

As we dance, I can sense more than a few pairs of eyes on us. It's odd. This place is full of eye-candy and yet two girls dancing together still seem to attract plenty of attention. At the back of my fuzzy brain, I think I even register a whistle or two from the other bar patrons. It doesn't make much sense to me. I mean, what's the big deal? We're just dancing. There are waitresses all around us who are dressed far more provocatively than we are and who are just waiting for an opportunity to flirt their damn asses off for tips. Isn't that a lot more interesting than two friends rocking out to some cheesy techno music?

Brittany spins in my grasp so she's facing away from me and wraps a hand around the back of my neck to keep me in place behind her. I grin, more than happy to let her lead the way.

Okay, so maybe we're dancing sorta close to each other... And sorta sexily... And maybe my face is getting sorta hot from it... But it's not like there's anything going on between us. We're just having a good time. My heart's just beating super hard because we've been dancing for ages now and it's a good cardio workout.

It's completely normal though. All girls do it. They get their flirt on when they dance. They mess around. They tease. It's like a game... a fun, innocent game. It's perfectly reasonable and totally not suspect.

Nope.

Not at all.

Hey... did that guy just wiggle his eyebrows at me?

I blink a couple of times, trying hard to focus and make sense of that sleazy stare, before eventually giving up and turning my head towards Brittany. Obviously sensing my gaze on her, she cranes her neck back to look me in the eye.

"You okay?" She asks, clearly out of breath.

"Yeah." I nod. "Just feeling kinda hot."

"Wanna get something to drink?"

"Yeah."

I grab her hand, navigate us away from the dance floor and take a seat on the only free bar stool, slurring my words a bit when I attempt to order another round. Brittany moves to the side of me, arm around my waist, holding on tight and leaning heavily so she doesn't stumble in her heels. The bartender doesn't seem to hear me over the crowd and the still thumping music no matter how much I yell. And then, just when I'm about ready to huff and bitch and suggest that we leave and find another place nearby, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Brittany is forced to detach from me when I spin around.

It's our waitress- the one that's been giving me sex-eyes all night. Maybe she can get us a drink.

"Want something, hon?" She asks as seductively as she can while practically shouting.

"Yes! I need two Screaming Orgasms!"

"Is that so?" She smirks suggestively but the alcohol prevents me from understanding why.

"Yeah!" I insist.

"My shift finishes in half an hour. How about I give them to you then?" She proposes.

My brow furrows in confusion. "Half an hour? That's a long time to wait for..." I trail off as my drunken brain finally catches up. "Oh."

She takes a step closer to me, so close she's almost standing between my legs, and leans in to whisper against my ear. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?" I can feel some of her fingers tickling my forearm and her other hand reaching around to toy with the back pocket of my jeans. "I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in."

I gulp and close my eyes.

Sure, I've had girlfriends in the past. Heck, even a one night stand or two. But I don't think a girl has ever been so... forward with me before. Is it weird that I feel intimidated? I mean yes, she's hot. But this overtly predatory act is starting to make me a little uncomfortable. Especially since I'm just supposed to be here having a fun night with my friend...

Which reminds me...

My eyes spring open and I look over the blonde stranger's shoulder to see Brittany glaring at us. No, not just glaring, fuming. I'm surprised there isn't actual smoke coming out of her ears with the way her jaw is clenched and her eyes are burning holes into back of this girl's head.

What's wrong with her? Did something happen while I wasn't looking?

"So, what d'you say? Wait for me out front so we can go some place... quieter?" The hand that was toying with my back pocket suddenly full-on gropes my ass and I jump.

I watch as Brittany's eyes get even wider, if possible.

"I... uh..."

"What's wrong, babe? You worried your little friend will get lonely?" The blonde waitress follows my gaze over her shoulder to Brittany before turning back to me, baring her stunning white teeth in a wolfish grin. "She can join us if you want."

My eyebrows crinkle at the suggestion. "You mean Brittany?" I ask her quietly.

"Yeah. Brittany, Buffy, whatever her name is. She's cute."

The sudden image of the three of us naked in bed together makes my jaw go slack and my breathing speed up. And now it's all I can do to stop my eyes from devouring the place where Brittany's white button-up is showing off the expanse of her neck and just the slightest hint of cleavage. I know my friend is smoking hot. I've always known this. But now it's like somehow, I'm seeing her for the first time.

And I swear it's got nothing to do with the booze in my system and everything to do with the seed that was just planted in my mind.

Shit... Maybe our sexy dancing wasn't so innocent after all...

I get so caught up gawking at Brittany and her gorgeous body - which I can't believe I've never really looked at properly before - that I barely even notice when the blonde waitress slides her hand up to clutch at my neck and trails her tongue over my earlobe.

But Brittany definitely seems to notice. Her nostrils flare, incensed, and before I can even think about the fact that it's about time I pushed this girl off and told her I wasn't interested, Brittany's grabbing my hand and yanking me off the bar stool. The waitress stumbles back in surprise.

"What the fuck...?"

"Let's go Santana." Brittany growls, pointedly not acknowledging the blonde girl's annoyed remark as she proceeds to drag me out of the bar and onto the strip.

She doesn't say a word to me until we get back to our hotel room. Once the door's closed behind us, she finally lets go of my hand and stalks over to the bed to throw down her purse.

Judging by the tension in the air, it's clear we've both abruptly sobered up during the walk. I gently rub my wrist where her fingers had been pinching it.

That was so not cool.

"What the hell was that? I thought we were having fun!" I don't even attempt to tone down the annoyance in my voice.

Brittany scoffs and spins on her heel. "Yeah it sure looked like you were having fun!"

"What the fuck? Why are you so mad at me? I wasn't gonna take off with that waitress and just leave you there, if that's what you think. She's not my type." I explain while I sit down on the edge of the bed to unlace my high-heeled boots.

"I..." Brittany hesitates. "I'm not mad. I don't care what you do or who you sleep with. It's none of my business."

"Yeah well it sure seems like you're pretty ticked off to me. You fucking dragged me outta that place Brittany!" I throw my hands up in the air for emphasis.

"I'm... I'm sorry I just... I don't know what I..."

It's then that I notice how red Brittany's ears have gotten. I've seen that before. It used to happen all the time when we first started studying together and she didn't understand something. It's her tell for when she's embarrassed. The wheels in my head begin to spin much faster.

"Hold up. Were you... jealous or something?"

"No." She quickly rebuts. "I was just... I felt... tired."

"Tired?" I raise my eyebrows at that. "You got tired at the exact same time some girl was flirting with me? You tried to rip off our faces with your eyes because you were, what, sleepy?"

"I don't know!" Brittany suddenly snaps. "I don't fucking know what I was feeling!"

"Yes you do. You got all pissy because you were jealous that I was getting some action and you weren't!" I stand up and move to face her head on, impressed with my own reasoning. "Seriously Britt... I had no idea you were so... petty."

"That wasn't why I got upset." She snarls through gritted teeth.

I know I've really gotten under her skin now. In a brief moment of doubt, I wonder if I should back off before this conversation gets any worse. But my innate stubbornness takes the wheel. "Then why did you get upset, huh? What excuse could you possibly have for hauling me out of there like a naughty kid?"

"Because I didn't like the way she was touching you!" Brittany shouts. "I wanted to be the one touching you like that - not some slutty, big-boobed stripper!"

"Well if that was the problem then why didn't you just-" I stop mid-sentence. Did Brittany just say she wanted to touch me?

Holy fuck.

I had it all wrong.

I barely have time to process what she's said when she grips my cheeks and forces me back up hard against the wall.

"I know this might sound crazy but... When that waitress touched you, I felt like I was on fire. I didn't want her anywhere near you." Her forehead is pressed to mine and her breath is hot and sweet against my lips. The way she's dragging her eyes down my body is making me squirm. "I don't know why I never noticed it before."

I swallow thickly. "Britt I-"

I don't get to finish explaining that I felt something too, that I can't believe how blind I've been these past months either. She silences me with a fierce kiss, so heated and persistent that my legs turn to jelly and a violent quiver runs through my lower stomach. Her tongue, sliding over my bottom lip before darting into my mouth to meet my own, tastes of spiced rum and Kahlua. My eyes slam shut and I let out a whimper and grab onto her hips, pulling her closer.

I can't believe I'm kissing Brittany.

I can't believe kissing Brittany is so fucking awesome.

I can't believe the room is allowed to spin like this. You would think the hotel management would do something about that...

But of course, it's all in my head. The dizzying surges and loops brought on by her kiss are filling up my senses and making me lean forward until Brittany has to take a step back... and then another... and then I realize I'm moving her back towards the bed. At the last moment though, she turns us, her teeth catching that same bottom lip and tugging gently. Then her whole body is up against me and we're both falling backwards onto the mattress.

The impact draws a surprised little gasp from me. I can feel her smirk against my mouth before she shifts to straddle my hips. I open my eyes just in time to see her dart back down to reconnect our lips, her hair falling around our faces and tickling my cheeks. Some of it gets in her eyes and in her mouth. She giggles breathily and sits back to brush it back off her face.

As I watch her sitting over me, I can feel the way my heart is thumping hard and fast, and my breath is stuttering through my chest. She looks absolutely beautiful. Her lips are puffy and red, her hair is a mess and she's looking down at me with this shy grin that just... I feel like I could dissolve on the spot from how sexy it is.

Why did we never do this before?

My hands find their own way to the tops of her thighs and begin rubbing up and down idly over the rough fabric of her jeans. With a bashful dip of her head, Brittany trails her fingers over my hip before slipping them underneath my top to tease the bare skin on my side. I inadvertently fidget when it sends another sharp tremor through my stomach muscles and lights up my skin with goosebumps. She giggles again. It makes me want to kiss the laughter off her lips.

So I sit up just enough to drag her mouth back down to mine.

The kiss is slower this time, more reverent and exploratory. When she pulls back slightly to start sucking on my neck and making her way up to latch onto my earlobe, it stokes the flame that I'm noticing is building far too quickly between my thighs.

"See. I should have been the one doing this to you." Brittany whispers against my ear. The hand that was underneath my top ceases its light motion of drifting fingers up and down my side, and instead ventures around to press gently into the creases of my ribs.

"I think you're doing a lot more to me than you realize." I breathe, only half registering what I'm actually saying.

I feel her grin as she kisses a spot behind my ear that makes me squirm yet again. "Oh? I think I know exactly what I'm doing to you." She abruptly bites the side of my neck and a sharp breath is forced out of my lungs. It makes me hot all over. "You're really not that good at hiding it."

My childish subconscious begs me not to let her get too much of an upper hand, so I slide my hands up her thighs and around to grope her ass. Her teeth sink into a new piece of skin in response and the chain reaction makes me squeeze her harder. I'm so busy reveling in the way she's marking territory on my neck and sending those burning shudders through my muscles with her mouth that I don't even notice how she's used a sneaky hand to push my top up over my bra... that is until she glances down and I get curious as to what caught her interest.

Her palm flattens against the middle of my stomach, slowly working its way upwards, and we both take the moment to watch the journey, equally mesmerized by its path. Fingertips graze the inside edges of my breasts and my lower back arches into her like I'm offering myself up on a platter. I've never felt so hypnotized by a girl before. I'm a puppet and she's tugging on the strings effortlessly. She has me, all of me... and I don't even care.

I'm surprised by how much I like it.

My eyes have fluttered shut while she traces patterns onto my chest. She manipulates my body so she can reach behind me to unclasp my bra. She pushes the fabric out of the way and my breasts react instantly to the cool air, and even more so to the almost instant attention they receive from a soft hand. It's like she's reading my mind when I feel her drop back down to kiss me again. I fumble blindly with the buttons on her shirt until she's shrugging it off and I'm drawing her back in with nails scratching down her spine.

Her tongue keeps teasing the corner of my mouth and when I try to capture it between my lips, it slips just out of reach. I make a little whiney noise in the back of my throat and she smirks against my mouth.

"What's wrong?" She taunts.

"Stop it." I try to kiss her again but she withdraws. I finally open my eyes to frown at her smug expression.

"Say please."

"No." I grumble.

She readjusts the position of her hand and flicks her thumb over my nipple. I whimper despite myself. "Say please." She repeats, clearly loving the power trip.

"Just shut up and kiss me Britt." I growl, twisting my fingers in her hair and crushing her lips to mine. This time there's no hesitation when she forcefully meets my tongue with her own. I take the opportunity to snap her bra off as well.

Whilst never allowing our lips to part, she lets it fall from her body and drops it somewhere near my head. Then she snakes the arm between us down, dragging open the zipper of my jeans. The next few moments are filled with hurried pecks and the difficult discarding of my tight pants, followed quickly by the rest of my clothes. Even though I've had plenty of other people see me naked before, I feel so exposed under her gaze. I mean, obviously I never imagined that Brittany and I would be in this position. And now that we're here, I'm not sure what it means. It's kinda scary, and jarring, but somehow it almost feels natural as well...

I shrug off the moment of uncertainty in favor of getting her just as naked as I am. I need to feel her against me. All it takes is me reaching for the zipper of her jeans and she's hastily ridding herself of her own clothes before settling back on top of me. When our skin meets, I don't bother trying to mask the way I tremble slightly beneath her. She feels amazing. I wrap a leg around her thigh, my hands holding the back of her neck while my hips shift of their own accord. She meets the motion with one of her own and soon we're grinding against each other desperately, and exchanging rushed, breathless kisses.

I feel her draw back a bit as one of her hands moves from my hip to my inner thigh. I tense up in anticipation but still allow my legs to part. I know how wet she is. I can feel it where she's straddling one of my thighs. But I'm almost unprepared for how easily her finger slips into me. Everything pulses as she slowly pulls out before returning with a second finger. My hips lift, fingers digging into her hairline and teeth biting down on her shoulder. Her groan is muffled against my neck.

"Sorry." I pant.

She shakes her head faintly and drops a kiss to my collarbone as she sets up a lazy, teasing rhythm. My hips meet her every movement. I raise the knee between her legs and am rewarded with a sharp breath against my skin and an increase in pace and pressure. Before long, her whole body starts moving on top of me. Our breasts are pressed together, and her thrusting into me is paired with the rolling of her hips to create friction for herself against my thigh. She turns her head and breathes heavily in my ear as we rock back and forth.

My eyes flutter back into my head at the little noises she's making.

I moan when she adjusts the position of her hand and then she's hitting my clit just right. Everything's getting hotter, and faster, and more desperate. But I can't go without her.

When I feel like I'm just about ready to explode, I frantically snake a hand between her thighs so I can push into her as well. She gasps, surprised. I turn my head and kiss her hard, sucking on her bottom lip as she holds her breath for what feels like an eternity. She's tensed, drawn tight like the strings on a violin, and then all at once she's breaking, falling apart into a quivering mess. The sights and sounds of her losing control instantly sky-rocket me closer to my own descent. She somehow manages to keep up the movement of her fingers, albeit sporadic and out of tempo, but it doesn't seem to matter. A few seconds later, the tight clenching of muscles releases in waves of pulsating, shuddering pleasure. I fall and fall until I'm sure all the bones in my body have disappeared.

After my hips have stopped their shaking, I sink so far into the mattress that I wonder if I'll be fused to it when I eventually try to get up.

I've melted. And Brittany seems to have melted right there on top of me.

It's blissful.

She weakly moves from inside of me, and I do the same so that I can wrap my arms around her back. One of my hands idly plays with a strand of her hair.

"That was..." I sigh contentedly.

"Yeah." She hums.

I'm still not sure how we got from being two friends on a trip to Vegas to this, but I sure as hell don't wanna take it back now. It just feels... right.

"Now do you understand why I dragged you out of that bar before?"

I laugh at her silly comment. "Yeah Britt. I get it." I nudge her cheek so I can look into her baby blues. "I think we both finally get it."

It's almost a question. Almost.

A bright smile and a tender kiss placed on my lips assure me that she knows what I'm implying. "Definitely."