Santana hurried to get ready, excited that she would see Brittany in just a few minutes. She hurriedly raked her fingers through her long black hair, not caring if it looked a little messy. She knew Brittany would think she looked good no matter what her hair was like; that was one of the reasons why she liked her so much – she always seemed happy with Santana, never dissatisfied or bored. This was not the case for most of the other students who attended William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio; most of them saw Santana as the bitchy mean girl who had to be avoided at all costs; if they didn't, then they would risk being verbally abused by the feisty Latina, who also wasn't afraid to use her fists if it came down to it. Santana then glanced at the time on her cell phone and grabbed her bag, running down the stairs at full speed. She almost collided with her mother, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her.

"Hey, slow down there!" she laughed, as she looked at Santana with a bemused expression on her face. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I'm staying at Brittany's for the night Mom. She, uh, wants me to get there fast so I can say bye to Lord Tubbington before her mom takes him to the vet!" She knew it was a terrible lie, but she didn't really care. She was too preoccupied with thoughts of seeing Brittany, thoughts of hugging her, holding her hand…

As she raced down the driveway and leapt into the front seat of her car, her mother watched her pull away and begin driving down the street. She wasn't fully aware of the relationship between the two girls, but she shut the front door with a knowing smile on her face, content with the fact that her daughter seemed happier than she had been in a long time. If Brittany was the cause of this happiness, then she was not going to interfere or stop whatever was going on.

Santana arrived outside the Pierce's house, her cheeks flushed with anticipation. She felt a slight tremor travel through her body, and it had nothing to do with the chill evening air she felt as she stepped out of the car and made her way to the front door. She did know that it had a lot to do with the tall blonde who had just opened the door and flung her arms around Santana, enveloping her in a giant hug. Brittany breathed in Santana's natural scent, a smell she had grown to know and love over the years; it offered her comfort and familiarity.

Santana embraced Brittany with the same force, feeling a sense of calm now she was in her best friend's arms once again. They pulled apart, and Santana gazed into Brittany's eyes, chocolate brown looking deep into the purest blue, and felt a rush of love for the pretty blonde girl standing in front of her. Brittany smiled at her, that smile that made Santana's legs turn to jelly, took her hand, and led her into the living room. Once settled on the couch, they began watching some show about ducks – Brittany had a kind of obsession with them – but neither girl was really paying attention.

Santana was hyper aware of everything that was going on around her; Brittany's thigh touching her own, her hand resting lightly on Brittany's stomach, Brittany's cheek leaning on her forehead.

At one point, Brittany leant down and placed a light kiss on Santana's cheek, making the Latina inhale a sharp intake of breath, which she tried to hide rather unsuccessfully. Brittany's mouth lifted on one side to form a small smile, and Santana reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek, dropping her hand to then stroke the smooth skin of Brittany's arm.

Once the program has finished, Brittany turned to Santana:

"Hey, wanna go upstairs?" she asked with a smile.

"Sure" was Santana's reply.

Both girls stood, with Santana not letting go of the hold she had on Brittany's arm. The taller blonde girl then grasped both of Santana's hands in her own, winked, and led her upstairs. They entered Brittany's room, and Santana took a breath to try and steady her racing heart. They had been here before. She knew what was about to happen. She could feel the anticipation building within her, making her head spin. Brittany then turned to face the shorter girl, and lay down on the bed in a slightly suggestive pose. Santana giggled and moved forward to lie next to her. Brittany was the one to make the first move, cupping Santana's cheek affectionately before placing a light kiss on her lips. Santana sighed with pleasure, and returned the kiss passionately.

The kissing was different than it used to be. When they used to hook up, before they had expressed their feelings for each other, their 'sweet lady kisses' had been ferocious, lustful, almost desperate. But now, they were caring, passionate, and full of love.

Brittany preferred it this way, and although she would never admit it, Santana did too. She loved lying with Brittany, holding her close to her body, covering her with kisses from her jaw all the way down to her collarbone.

Then, as things began to heat up, Brittany moaned and opened her mouth to speak.

"Oh, this is so much better than when I make out with Artie" she sighed.

Santana froze, trying to process what she just heard. Her body went rigid, and she sat up, staring at Brittany wide-eyed and shocked. She began to breathe heavily, praying she had misunderstood.

Brittany looked at Santana, confusion present on her pretty features.

"San? What's wrong? Why d'you stop?"

She sounded worried, and took Santana's hand into one of her own. But Santana withdrew her hand, and narrowed her eyes as she asked:

"What did you mean by that?"

Her tone of voice was venomous, but beneath that, her feelings of betrayal didn't go unnoticed.

"Mean by what? San, I don't know what you're talking about!" Brittany said, panic evident in her voice. "Please, I don't know what I did, but whatever it is; please don't be mad at me. I can't stand it when you don't talk to me."

The sadness in her voice was reflected in her eyes, which had begun to fill with tears of worry and desperation.

Santana, in turn, was cold, her eyes hard and emotionless. She raised her eyes to look directly into Brittany's and spoke, her voice cold and flat:

"When did you make out with Artie?"

Brittany's eyes widened as she realised what she had said, and her next words came out rushed:

"Oh! No, that's nothing! Me and him, we just make out sometimes, that's all! It's nothing serious; you're the one I want to be with!"

Her voice took on a pleading tone, and she tried to get Santana to meet her gaze.

"Please San, you have to believe me! It's just like when you and Puckerman hook up; it means nothing, it's just a bit of fun!"

Santana did look into Brittany's eyes then, and spat out her next words as if they left a nasty taste in her mouth.

"I haven't hooked up with Puck for weeks. Ever since our… thing started, I ended things with him. I wanted to be faithful to you; I didn't want to be with anyone else. Obviously you don't have the same concern."

She rose off the bed and turned away from Brittany, reaching for the door handle as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"You know what? I can't believe you would do this to me. I thought you were the one person I could trust who wouldn't ever hurt me! But I guess I was wrong. Here I am, thinking you're the best… girlfriend someone could ever have, meanwhile you're having make-out sessions with the fucking nerd on wheels! Whatever. I'm outta here."

Brittany leapt off the bed, blocking the door, trying to stop Santana from leaving.

"San, please! I didn't mean for this to happen! I'll, I'll stop seeing Artie! I will, I promise! I want you, I don't want him! He means to nothing to me! Please!"

But Santana yanked the door open, pushed Brittany to the side, and stormed out of the house. It wasn't until she was sat in her car that she allowed the tears to flow. Her heart was racing, her head was pounding, and tears were streaming relentlessly down her tan cheeks. Each sob left her gasping for air, and with each sob, she was once again reminded of the heartbreak she had endured only moments earlier. She shouldn't be feeling like this. No one made Santana Lopez cry like this. No one. But she had. Brittany. She had that power. And Santana hated her for it. She attempted to suppress her cries, until they subsided into small sniffles, and only then was she able to drive home. As soon as she opened the front door, she ran upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom, burying her face in her pillow and letting the darkness and despair swallow her up.