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Run The Risk
It was Christmas Eve morning, just before nine according to the clock on the kitchen wall. Santana Lopez, still in her pyjamas, she yawned and padded out into the hall to pick up the post. A bill, a pizza delivery flyer and a small pile of Christmas cards addressed to Mr and Mrs Puckerman. It still sounded odd to Santana. Mr and Mrs. This time last year, she'd been Miss Lopez. No husband, no marriage to work at and no in-laws to cope with. She sighed heavily and wandered into the kitchen, taking the post with her.
The flat was unusually quiet as she switched the kettle on and took the coffee out of the cupboard. Noah had gone out about thirty minutes ago to try to beat the Christmas Eve rush at the supermarket. With a faint pang of guilt, Santana realized she was relieved to be alone, at least for a while. Noah had been behaving like an over excited child at the thought of their first Christmas together as husband and wife. Stuck at home with Noah, Santana realized she missed work. Teaching had been a real comfort in the chaos of her life lately and school provided her with a welcome escape when things got too much at home. Today, though, there was no school and no escaping. She was stuck here, sentenced to spend Christmas Day with Noah.
She filled her mug with coffee and dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. The same routine every morning, she reflected, staring absently out of the window. Her eyes drifted towards the Pierce household, and she couldn't help thinking about one of its occupants. Brittany would probably be making the most of her holidays with Sam, she reminded herself. And that was a good thing. It was good that Brittany had found someone her own age, someone who wasn't married, who wasn't her teacher. She moved away from the window, determined to think about anything but Brittany Pierce.
Her toast popped up and Santana dropped it onto a plate. The silence, which had seemed like peace and quiet, suddenly felt less comfortable. She switched the radio on. She needed a distraction.
At the house around the corner, Brittany Pierce had been awake for almost an hour. She could hear her mother calling her, '"It's practically lunchtime," It wasn't, not really anyway. She yawned and stretched, folding her arms behind her head. Her parents were going to Brittany's Grandparents house for Christmas, Brittany wasn't feeling up to Christmas this year and decided she wasn't going. Her mother had persisted, and Brittany promised to think about it, more to keep the peace than anything else. She couldn't tell her the real reason she wanted to stay at home.
Her mom, she reasoned, would dismiss it as a schoolgirl crush, and there were times she worried that was how Santana saw it, too. She rolled over on to her side, hugging the duvet under one arm. It wasn't a crush, she was certain of that. In the face of everything that had happened over the last few months, her feelings for Santana had survived, totally unshakable. If anything, they'd grown stronger, and any doubts she might have had were wiped away.
As certain as she was about her own feelings, she was altogether less sure about Santana's feelings. She knew she didn't think of her as just another one of her students. She'd risked her marriage coming to visit her at her house to 'tutor' her. Santana had believed in her when so many other people didn't, when Santana's controlling husband had tried to stop their tutoring lessons, Santana had put Brittany's feelings and needs first. You didn't do something like that without it meaning something, thought Brittany. But what?
Smiling to herself, she flopped back down on her bed and put the television on. The only thing that could make today anymore perfect would be if Santana were here sharing it with her.
By the time she'd showered and dressed, Santana's mood had lifted. There was, she realized, no way of escaping Christmas Day with the Puckermans. So she might as well make the most of it. They were Noah's family after all - her family now - and if she was going to make her marriage work, that included putting on a brave face once in a while. Her cheery resolve had wavered slightly when Noah arrived home with a pair of matching Santa hats for them both, but he was so determined to make their Christmas special, she gave in and agreed to wear one. It was all about give and take, she reminded herself.
Now, sitting on the bed wrapping her final few presents, Santana thought she might even feel the beginnings of some Christmas spirit. Noah had picked up a Christmas carol CD on his way home and she could hear the old-fashioned tunes drifting in from the living room. Tying some ribbon on the last gift, the gift for Brittany, she picked up the small pile (except for one) and arranged them under the tree. Noah walked by, busy with preparations for tomorrow's lunch, and planted an affectionate kiss on her cheek. Santana cringed.
When Brittany eventually got up she felt oddly unsettled. She'd showered, got dressed, eaten and now she wasn't sure what she felt like doing. Her parents and sister had already left, so she was alone. Alone for Christmas. She sat on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and rolling a shriveled tangerine around absent-mindedly. She thought about calling Sam up, but decided against it in case he decided to visit. The person she really wanted to see was Santana - that was a no-brainer - but on Christmas Eve, it didn't seem very likely. She jumped down from the counter and wandered over to the living room window, vaguely hoping she might catch a glimpse of her, but hovering there indefinitely didn't feel like much of a plan.
Still restless, she flopped down on to one of the sofas and switched on the television, channel-hopping to find something that might distract her for a few minutes. Getting bored she finally decided to get down the box of family decorations from the attic.
As she unraveled a tangled length of tinsel, her mind wandered back to Santana. She tried not to obsess over her, not to spend too much time imagining what a life with her would be like, but she couldn't help dreaming sometimes. They were always together in her dreams. She'd leave school and get a job, while Santana got a new teaching post somewhere far away from Lima. They had a small flat and were saving up for a bigger place, but, for now, they were happy to just be together. At Christmas, she decided, adding a new image to the dream, Santana would be the one to do most of the decorating but she'd help out, going to get the tree and sorting out the fairy lights. When they'd finished they would switch off all the lights and lie on the floor under the tree looking up at the twinkling decorations. Hey, a girl could dream.
Putting the tinsel down and deciding to finish the decorating later, she headed upstairs to get her shoes and jacket. Fresh air was what she needed.
Santana had always believed that the best thing to do if you had a problem was to distract yourself by keeping busy. it was the reason she'd devoted so much time to her job recently, and it was the reason she was now bustling industriously around the kitchen getting things ready for Christmas Day. Unfortunately, no matter how many potatoes she peeled or how hard she polished the wine glasses, the plan wasn't a complete success,
"Are you sure I can't do anything to help?" Called Noah from the sofa.
"Sorry?" Said Santana. She was finding it as hard to concentrate today as to stay cheerful.
"Do you need any help?" Noah repeated.
"Oh, no. I'm -" What was she supposed to be doing next? Her eyes fell on a long, narrow box on the other side of the kitchen and she remembered. "Laying the table," she said. "It's fine."
The cutlery had been a wedding present, Santana remembered, as she flipped open the lid of the box, revealing rows of gleaming knives, forks and spoons. Another ivory wrapped package with a matching gift tag wishing them 'a lifetime of happiness together'. It hadn't worked out that way so far. Arguments? plenty of those. Jealousy? by the bucketful. Misunderstandings, resentment, disappointment? Check, check, check. But happiness? that had been in pretty short supply since her wedding day.
Of all people, it was Brittany who had tried to warn her. A surprise visitor, turning up at the last-minute and hoping to persuade her that marrying Noah was the wrong thing to do. She'd tried to talk her into leaving while she still could, but Santana had done what she always did - ignored her and pretended everything was okay. She shook off the memory. it was all behind her now; she was committed to her marriage and to Noah.
Santana felt her earlier anxiety return. She was fed up of racing around preparing for a day she was dreading and it was getting harder and harder to keep thoughts of Brittany out of her head. It was dangerous, she knew, to let them in, but part of her craved the danger. Here, she was stuck playing the part of the dutiful wife and it was smothering her. Brittany didn't see her as a label or a title. She didn't even think of her as her teacher most of the time, remembering her reluctance to call her Mrs Puckerman in class. To her, she was always Santana.
She leaned across to pull up the slatted wooden blind, thinking some fresh air might clear her mind, but, before she could open the window, she froze, heart pounding. Her gaze had fallen upon a figure walking along the street below her window, as if she'd sensed her watching, Brittany glanced up at the window. Seeing Santana standing there, eyes fixed on her as if there was no one else on the street, she stopped and stared back at her. She didn't know how long they were looking at each other, or which one of them broke away first, but by the time Brittany was gone, she'd made her decision. She scrawled a note, a lie, for Noah and picked up her keys.
If Brittany had been on edge before, it was even worse by the time she got back from the shop. However much she'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of Santana or maybe even run into her, she hadn't held out much hope of it actually happening. If you believed half the stuff in books and films, real life never lived up to your day dreams, but with Santana it was the other way round. Every time she saw her, she looked even more beautiful than she did in her imagination.
Looking up at the flat as he passed had become a habit. It was somehow comforting, knowing that was where she lived, sometimes seeing the light on and thinking she was inside. She'd never seen her at the window before and it had been a shock.
The thing that really surprised her was Santana's reaction. She'd expected her so smile or wave maybe, but then scuttle off, afraid she was doing the wrong thing or that someone might see. But she'd stayed, apparently no more able to wrench herself away than she had been.
Brittany picked up a book, one that Santana had given her, and settled down to read on the sofa. It was books, she remembered, that had brought them together in the first place. When Santana had started tutoring her, the two of them somehow clicked straight away. There was no one she could talk to the way she did with Santana and definitely no one who understood her like she did. Brittany wasn't the smartest teenager her age, but rather than write her off as a waste of space, Santana saw the spark within her. Brittany could relax around her, and she felt like she was more herself with Santana than with anyone. She quickly found herself trusting and confiding in her, even outside their tutoring sessions, and almost as quickly falling in love with her.
She should have seen it coming, she supposed. Santana was bright, caring, funny and gorgeous. She was as relaxed and open with Brittany as she was with her, and as clichéd as it sounded even inside her head, it felt as though they'd known each other for a lifetime. She's a teacher, she'd had to remind herself back then, the enemy, or so she used to think. To her surprise, she'd discovered her passion for books. Less afraid of doing badly in school, she didn't hate it anymore. She'd helped her look at the world in a new way, shown her a future she had never dreamed she could have, and somewhere along the line, Brittany had realized she wanted Santana to be a part of that future.
She stood up to go and make herself a drink, but before she was halfway to the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. She paused, hardly in the mood for a conversation with Sam (who it most likely is, she thought). On the other hand it could be someone her mother had sent to check up on her, and the last thing she wanted was her mom ringing up in a panic because she hadn't answered the door.
She pulled the door open and found Santana.
"Did you get together with Sam to make me jealous?" she asked, and Brittany moved aside to let her in.