Brittany snaps the pointed metal from the end of her arrow. "What would happen if I swallowed just the pointy bit?" It sits warm in her hand, the little vibration of power is always there, even broken.

Quinn looks back at her, looking for her meaning. She glances at the arrowhead. "It would hurt Britt."

Brittany pouts, staring down at the precious little spike that works for everyone except for the people that actually direct them. "That doesn't seem fair. Why doesn't it work?" she asks, sighing in frustration.

The point drops from her hand, tumbling the 6 stories from where they sit on the edge of a random building. The moment it hits the ground in a little puff of pink dust, the arrow in her other hand is back to being whole. She returns it to the narrow quiver on her back.

Quinn looks down at the crowd of people and Brittany follows her gaze into Times Square.

"You already love everyone." Quinn says thoughtfully.

It takes Brittany a moment to remember that she asked a question. "What if I want to be in love with someone?"

"With who?" Quinn turns to her friend. "Someone down there? They can't even see you Britt. What would be the point? It'd just be a heartbreak."

Brittany's frown deepens. "Heartbreak's your specialty Quinn, not mine."

Quinn's posture instantly stiffens and she turns away to hide her hurt expression.

She moves to leave but Brittany grabs her arm. "No, wait. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. Please forgive me."

Quinn sighs and rolls her eyes. "When you pout like that, how can I do anything else? Fine, why do you want to be 'in love'" she asks with those obnoxious air quotes.

Brittany shrugs. "I don't know, I think it would be nice is all." She thinks about what Quinn said. "Sometimes people can see me."

Quinn shakes her head. "Those aren't people."

"How do you mean?" Brittany frowns. She might only have been alive for nineteen and a bit years but she knows a person when she sees one.

"I mean, they're pretending to be people like we do sometimes. They look like people but they're Amores like us, or I don't know vampires or nymphs or some other kind of whatever that we haven't heard of. It's not important."

She waves a dismissive hand but Brittany is fascinated.

Quinn looks at her thoughtfully. "You know the arrows don't create love right? Check out wikipedia. Cupid is the god of affection and sex. Not love."

"Is wikipedia always right?" Brittany asks.

Quinn just shrugs and goes back to watching the crowd. The sun's only just gone down and there's still ages yet until the ball drops.

"Well I think I can be in love," Brittany states confidently. "I just have to find the right person." Her lips quirk to the side as she thinks about that. "Or nymph or vampire or whatever."

Quinn just shakes her head and rolls her eyes again. "Well if you find someone to bang tonight just be safe."

"That's not what I meant you know."

"Yeah, I know." Quinn ruffles Brittany's hair affectionately as she stands up and looks over the edge of the building. "Be careful anyway. Don't do anything… careless. And make sure you fill your quota before the ball drops or you're gonna end up on probation. And I don't wanna deal with that paperwork. Again."

Brittany looks up at her mentor with a confident grin. "Don't worry Quinn, I gots this." she waves a faux ghetto gesture to punctuate just how much she does have this.

Quinn laughs and Brittany is glad to see the Amore smile before she drops delicately from the edge of the building and into the crowd. There's always less heartbreak in the city when Quinn is smiling.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

A random guy bumps hard into Santana's shoulder. "Hey, watch it creep!"

"Sorry. God whatever… Bitch." He mumbles the last bit under his breath as he walks away which is what really bugs her.

She wants to turn around and go all Lima Heights on his ass even if he is a freakin giant. She gets another three paces before she whirls around, ready to pummel that asshole. But he's already been swallowed by the crowd. "Whatever," she mumbles. She got his wallet anyway.

She keeps walking as she splits open the cheap pleather. Inside is the fuggliest looking ID ever. "Well, Finn Hudson from…Bushwick Brooklyn, I'll bet you regret calling me a bitch now." Not that his mumbled insult had any impact on her picking his pocket. She just doesn't have to feel bad about it any more.

Opposite the ID is a crumpled photo of a girl that is way outside that manchild's league. Santana tugs the photo out of it's little pocket and unfolds it to show the rest of her. Even just in photo form the brunette is clearly hotter than Finn Hudson from Bushwick Brooklyn should be capable of snagging. She wonders how any girl reduces herself to dating someone who is so clearly beneath them.

Santana tosses the photo, pulls out the forty bucks cash and tosses the wallet in the nearest trashcan. There are dozens of the giant, wheeled bins dotted through the crowd. That doesn't stop the ground from being covered in trash but Santana guesses that it helps some councilman somewhere look good. One thing for sure is that there are going to be more than a few wallets in those bins by the end of the night cause this crowd is ripe for the picking.

Santana lives for these crowds. She can walk away with two thousand bucks long before anyone even notices they're lighter a wallet or money clip. At this time of year with everyone bundled up in their winter coats, who's gonna feel whether their wallet is there or not. Better than that, who's gonna suspect a hot bitch in three inch heals of being the slyest pickpocket in New York.

Santana brushes through a crowd of tourists all looking up. She gets three wallets and one passport.

Whoops.

Santana grabs the attention of a girl on the edge of the group by tapping her shoulder. The girl looks startled but Santana just gives her the friendly-local smile and hands the passport back. Losing your wallet is annoying but losing your passport can fuck up a holiday. She's not totally heartless.

The girl is beyond thankful and then so is her whole family bowing and chattering away in Japanese or something as an older woman hugs her passport to her chest like it's her first born child. Okay, maybe Santana is a little heartless cause she's still not giving those three wallets back.

She walks far enough away that they can't see her, though she can still see the little white and red flag their guide is carrying. She opens up the wallet and finds eight hundred bucks. God, tourists are stupid. Do they think they won't be able to find an ATM in New York? It's freakin New York.

She grabs the three hundred out of the other two wallets and then tosses both of them back into the crowd. She's pretty sure she hears the guy with the flag yelp in pain before the rest of the group start chattering about raining wallets and—oh wait these are our wallets… Yup, tourists. Gotta love em.

An airy laugh draws her attention away from the bobbing flag.

"That was really nice," A tall blonde girl about the same age as Santana is looking at her, smiling benignly.

She's dressed, rather incongruously as an angel and looking at Santana like she is the most precious thing. Santana automatically scowls. No one calls her nice and gets away with it. Not even hot blondes wearing seasonally inappropriate clothing and really cool wings. The girl's not even a worthwhile target since Santana can't see where she might be keeping her money. The red shorts and white T-shirt are too tight and not even Santana is good enough to put her hands into a girl's cleavage without her noticing. There could be a few cards or cash in the gold boots but really, who knows.

Santana turns on her heals and stalks off in the opposite direction. She's here to work not figure out why a cute girl is wandering around dressed as an Angel… Except not an angel. Santana thinks about it as she snags a money clip from a slick looking douche-bag in an Armani suit. The girl had on red booty shorts and—wait was she carrying a bow and arrow? And the strap across her chest might have been attached to an arrow quiver since she obviously wasn't carrying a satchel.

She was dressed as a hot cupid on New Years eve. It can't be any more than thirty degrees outside yet she seemed plenty warm from where Santana was standing. Maybe she's high on something or really, really drunk. She didn't seem like she was on anything though.

Santana shakes her head as she tugs the thirty-five dollars out of the money clip and tosses it over her shoulder. The tinkle of metal hitting the pavement doesn't happen. Instead there is another airy laugh which makes Santana stop in her tracks. Oh god, if this girl is following her… she turns around and whaddya know. Crazy blonde chick is only a few yards away and holding the little metal clip in her outstretched hand. She sees Santana looking and must realise her mistake because she drops the clip. Santana laughs cause—as if that's gonna stop her seeing a perfectly solid person. Blondie is right there and clearly following her.

"Are you following me?" It's a stupid, obvious question but she has to say something.

Crazy Blonde looks behind herself dramatically then back to Santana with wide eyes. She points at her own chest. "You mean me?"

Santana laughs. "Well yeah."

"You mean you can actually see me?" She walks a little closer and Santana resists the urge to back away.

Okay, so apparently this girl really is crazy, not just crazy hot. "You are pretty much standing right in front of me," she points out.

Crazy Blonde tilts her head thoughtfully. "What if I turn around?" With that she turns her back to Santana as though the action would make her any less solid. As though she, the wings and the quiver sitting near her (lovely)rear end can be anything less than conspicuous.

Santana leans to one side so she can see Crazy Blonde's face. The girl has her eyes scrunched closed and she's muttering something under her breath. Santana leans back and is prepared to walk away when the white wings catch her attention. They really are beautiful. They kinda glow in all the different lights and they look really soft.

Santana lifts up one hand and runs her fingers down in the direction of the feathers. They feel like real feathers and the whole structure even seems to flex a little under her touch. The blonde's breath catches as she must feel the weight of Santana's hand against her shoulders—or wherever these things are attached. Santana's seen some pretty elaborate costumes but this one takes the cake. She tilts her head so she can see where the wings dip down to the space between the girls shoulder blades.

Holy shit.

This costume is incredible. The tshirt is cut away at the back, a knot holding it together low against her spine. This means the place where the wings are connected to her back is completely visible. Maybe Crazy Blonde walked off a movie set and is just wandering around messing with people. The harness isn't even visible at all so there must be some latex involved or something because the feathers of her wings just merge seamlessly with the skin of her back. It looks so real.

Santana shifts the hand still stroking white feathers to run a fingertip down the stretch of whatever is pretending to be skin between those wings. It looks so, so real. Santana runs her finger the whole way down the girl's spine looking for the edge to something but only feels warm, soft skin. She looks a little more closely and can see a scattering of fine, blonde hair exactly as there should be on her skin. It's all real. It doesn't make sense. She can't see any way that the wings can be attached.

For some reason the girl is just standing there. Santana leans forward and can see a blush on her cheeks and her eyes are still scrunched closed. She's not muttering under her breath anymore though. Instead, she's pulled the corner of her lower lip in between her teeth.

Santana knows she should walk away as quickly as possible. She's talking to a crazy person and running her hands down their bare back. It's nuts. She's a New Yorker now, not some Lima loser, country bumpkin.

The girl's breath is becoming shallow and Santana realises that her hand is still resting between her wings. Despite every alarm bell ringing loudly in her head Santana strokes her fingertips over the girl's skin again and this time there is a distinct shiver that runs over the girl's body. It's obvious now when the wings flex. Santana can see the muscles of the girls back work as the wings shift delicately on either side of her hand.

"Holy shit," Santana breaths.

She still needs one more test though before she'll even think about believing this. One little test to prove it.

Santana moves her hand quickly and tugs harshly at a random feather.

"Ow," the girl yelps out in surprise and whirls around so she's facing Santana again.

Santana jumps back, bumping into a random man that's rushing past. Suddenly the noise and chaos of Times Square on New Years Eve becomes something Santana actually registers. She does't know how long she was just standing, looking at—and touching—the blonde's back. She was so absorbed she completely forgot where she was and what she's been doing. She glances around the crowd, just to make sure no one's about to pounce on her for being a pickpocket. She's as confident as ever in her ability to sneak away unseen but that stunt with the Japanese tourists was a little bit stupid.

"What did you pull on me for? That's just mean." The girl is wearing an adorable pout.

"Wanky." Santana Lopez doesn't apologise to anyone but, "Sorry, Blondie I just wanted to—"

"Brittany."

"I'm sorry?" Did she just say sorry again?

"You already said that," the girl points out.

"No, I mean what did you say?"

"Oh," she grins and holds out her right hand. "Brittany. My name is Brittany."

"Pretty," Santana mutters. She doesn't know why she's still here, let alone exchanging pleasantries with a girl who apparently has real wings.

"Your name is Pretty?"

"Huh?"

"You said 'pretty' after I said my name so I thought—"

"Oh um, no." Santana rubs at the back of her neck with her left hand feeling her cheeks get hot. "No, I meant your name is um, well I guess it suits you."

"What about you?"

"I don't think it would suit me, no."

Brittany laughs like Santana just made the best joke and the sound, despite how it's directed actually warms her damn heart.

She can't help but smile. "What did I say?"

"I meant what's your name silly?"

"I don't know if I can give my name to someone who calls me 'nice' and then 'silly' in the same conversation. It sets a bad precedent." Santana winks then remembers that she doesn't flirt with crazy people with wings either.

"I kinda like your President. He says nice things about nearly everybody when he gets on TV."

Now it's Santana's turn to laugh at Brittany but she can't. All she can manage is a dopey grin because this girl is just too cute.

Santana catches the errant thought and schools her expression into something more serious. "Um, sure. But, er…" She takes the hand that hasn't wavered in its place between them this whole time. "I'm Santana."

She feels the warmth of Brittany's hand and is infinitely glad she does't wear gloves on days that she works.

"What are you?" Brittany asks, keeping the hold of Santana's hand as she steps further into her space and searches her face intently.

Santana lets out another laugh, feeling oddly light given the circumstances. "Seriously? You have wings and you're asking me what I am?"

"Well, yeah. I think it's pretty obvious what I am. You, on the other hand…" she looks Santana over in a way that leaves her feeling more than a little naked. "If you can see me then Quinn says you should be something special like us."

Santana ignores the question of who or what 'Quinn' is. "I'm nothing special."

"I think you are." The layers of meaning are clear in Brittany's eyes and it make Santana blush again.

"I'm just…" Santana thinks about lying but Brittany already saw her pulling money from a few wallets and tossing them away. It's pretty obvious. "I'm a sneak thief," she shrugs. "By night anyway and during the day I go to college like a normal person."

"What do you do there?"

Santana isn't sure Brittany means to ask what she's studying or what someone does at a college. She answers the simplest option. "I'm studying to be a civil planner."

"What do they do?"

"Boring things," She answers, honest again.

"But what else are you? Vampire? Faun? What are those tree, water spirit things?"

"Nymphs?"

"Yeah, that. Wait, does that mean you're a—"

Santana cuts her off, "No! No, i'm not anything I swear. Well, I'm sneaky but that's not exactly magical is it?"

Brittany smiles. "So you're just…Santana?"

"I guess so?"

Brittany doesn't have a reply to that but her thumb is moving soothingly over the back of Santana's hand so she doesn't really mind.

Santana swallows nervously. "So, um. The wings?"

Brittany glances over her shoulder and flexes them as if to make sure they're still there. "What about them?" she asks, shifting them again in a way Santana can't help but watch.

"Why are they there? It's not exactly normal. Are you like, a human with wings or a thing that flies."

Brittany gives a half shrug. "I don't think I'm human."

"You're not sure?"

"Not really. I need the wings for my work." She offers with a smile.

"And what is it that you do? Courier? Plumber? Photographer maybe…" She trails off laughing as Brittany's expression becomes more and more incredulous.

Brittany laughs right along with her and even leans into Santana's shoulder as their giggles get stronger and make them both breathless.

"No, no I'm an Amore," she says, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

Santana mirrors the action, still panting a little through fading giggles. "I don't know what that is."

"Really?" Brittany looks at Santana like she's sure she's being messed with.

"I swear, I have no idea."

"Okay," Brittany starts, still looking a little suspicious. "You know Cupid?"

"Not personally," Santana jokes with as straight a face as she can manage.

"Well obviously. Even I've only met him the once."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I know right? He was pretty nice but I guess he'd have to be right since he's my boss?"

"Bosses aren't usually nice. That's why I freelance." Santana smirks. Job descriptions are always fun. Government forms are the best.

"Oh." Brittany looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Um, okay then. Assuming I can believe any of…this. Isn't it a bit early in the year for you to be out? Valentine's day is in February. Why are you here tonight?"

"Love doesn't just happen one day a year San."

Santana likes how Brittany shortens her name like that.

"Okay Britt," she tries out the name and decides she likes it. Brittany likes it too if the dazzling smile is anything to go by. "So what do you do for Cupid then?"

"Well I…" Brittany looks around them as if she's looking for the right explanation. "Is it alright if I just show you?"

"I guess…"

"Great. But um…"

"What?"

"You'll have to let go of my hand." Brittany bites her lip as she looks down at their clasped hands.

"Oh, um sure."

Santana misses the warmth as soon as she lets go.

Brittany nudges Santana's shoulder with her own. "You'll see. Now, who do you think would look cute together?"

She looks out into the crowd surrounding them and Santana follows her gaze.

"That guy," Santana says pointing toward a big, mad looking man in a fugly blue down jacket. "Aaaand that one over there." She points toward another woman in a similar coat.

"Good choice. I like it," Brittany says with a happy nod.

She grabs an arrow out of the white case at her back and notches it against her bow. "You ready?" she asks.

Santana nods and moves to stand right behind Brittany so she can see what she's seeing. Brittany raises the bow, brings the man quickly in her sights then releases the arrow. It hits the man square in his oversized chest, everything taking less than two seconds. Santana is sure she would have missed it if she'd blinked.

She puts her hand on Brittany's hip. "What about her?" she asks, nodding to the woman.

Brittany looks over her shoulder with a smile. "You'll see."

The man goes over to the woman and when he holds out his hand Santana sees a plume of pinkish smoke around it. The smoke reaches out to the woman and when she accepts his hand it entwines around hers as well.

It's really kind of… sweet.

Brittany flexes the wing closest to Santana and the longer feathers brush over her wrist. Santana feels her whole body warm to the touch as Brittany begins to turn in her arms.

"Britt, there you are. I've been looking for you. Kitty just told me—oh no." Quinn is looking breathless as she lands lightly next to them.

"Quinn, how's your night going?" Brittany is mostly being polite because she knows she'll be asking Quinn to leave.

Santana is the first human that she's ever actually spoken to and Santana hasn't run away. Better than that, every time Brittany looks into Santana's warm, chocolate eyes she feels this wonderful buzz spread through her chest and under her skin. She thinks that Santana feels it too, although she stepped away as soon as Quinn appeared. Also, for Brittany, having a mentor around is pretty much guaranteed to kill almost any happy buzz.

Quinn doesn't answer her question, instead she looks at Santana. "Who's your er, friend?" she asks.

Brittany looks between them as Quinn looks disapproving and Santana looks annoyed.

"I'm Santana, who the hell are you?" Santana holds out her hand even though her words were a little less than nice.

"Quinn. Fabray." Quinn hesitantly takes Santana's hand. "Dammit!" she yelps, taking back her hand, turning it over to show the red of a light burn on her palm. "You are the Satyr. I knew it. Come on Britt, we gotta go."

"Wait why? What's a Satyr? Where are we going?" Brittany doesn't want to leave. Santana is wonderful. If she leaves now she won't get the chance to learn everything about her.

Santana steps between them. "I've got the same three questions. And you better start answering them or I'll go all Lima Heights."

Quinn huffs as she takes a step back. "She's a—" she starts to address Brittany but at Santana's dark glare she addresses them both instead. "You're a Satyr—or I guess a satyress. But you have to know that?"

Brittany sees Santana give her a look.

"She's human, Q" Brittany tells her.

Quinn shakes her head, "I was sent in with a tell." She offers up her red hand. "This tells otherwise."

"But what does that mean? What's a...Sateen?"

"Satyr," Quinn corrects. "Satyrs are kinda like fauns." She looks at Santana's high heeled boots and follows up the line past her stockinged thighs and tight, short dress. "I guess it could be back a few generations. "Are there any horns in under that hair?"

"Oh, she didn't. That's it Fabray." Santana starts to take off her jacket, clearly offended by the idea.

Quinn looks over Santana's shoulder to Brittany. "Satyrs are companions to Bacchus," she explains, her tone didactic as usual. "They're tricksters and malingerers. That would explain the impulse control issues—"

"Oh, I'll give you impulse control." Santana throws her jacket to the ground.

Before she can do anything drastic Brittany grabs her around the waist, almost lifting her from the ground. Quinn looks a little confused by the display as Santana only fights against Brittany's arms for a few seconds before relaxing completely. Brittany mumbles some calming nonsense—she's not sure what—into Santana's ear and finds the smaller girls hand with her own. Santana relaxes more into the touch and Brittany keeps her back tight against her front. Her hand wanders up and down the inside of Santana's wrist.

Quinn looks away from them and into the crowd. "There's too many of us in amongst all of them," she waves an open palm between the three of them and then to the rest of the crowd. "The Siren might be here too." Her words are meant to sound like a warning but Brittany knows better. She hears that little hint of longing that's always there when Quinn talks about her.

"Oh, you mean that Rachel girl. The one you've been stalking?"

"Not stalking. Observing. There's a difference."

"Sure there is. One's illegal." It's Santana's voice that comes out a little shaky. Brittany is still holding her so she can feel the tenseness in Santana's back.

Brittany unwraps her arms from Santana who shivers a little in the cold night air. She picks up Santana's jacket.

Santana gives her the sweetest little smile as she hands it over. "Thanks Britt."

Brittany has to look away. "What does it matter how many there are of us if humans can't see us?"

"Say what?" Santana looks freaked out as she whirls on the spot looking at the crowd. "No one else can see you?"

Quinn and Brittany look at each other before Quinn explains. "Yeah, it's how it works. If you were human you wouldn't be able to see us."

Santana groans like she's in pain. "So it looks like I'm talking to myself?"

"Yes. If other people really can see y—"

"Of course other people can see me. And I look like a fucking crazy person!" She yells, throwing her hands in the air.

As if to prove her point a guy in a grey stetson gives her a distinctly disapproving look and pulls his wife away from them. Santana groans again. Brittany supposes she must look a little funny. Especially with the way they've been looking at one another. Brittany takes the infuriated girl's hand because Santana is a little bit beautiful when she's angry. Santana softens into her again almost immediately.

Quinn sighs. "Then let's get out of here shall we?" She's talking directly to Brittany with the next question. "Have you met your quota yet or were you distracted by the Satyr?"

"Stop calling me that. I'm just a person."

"Sure you are."

Santana's scowl deepens again so Brittany squeezes her hand before giving Quinn a determined glare. "Look Quinn, I'll take care of it. Please just go?"

"Fine," Quinn huffs. "Just be careful okay."

"I always am."

"Yeah, right." Quinn laughs with a teasing smile.

"Go find your Siren." Brittany teases her friend right back. "Maybe she'll drop that giant of hers for you tonight."

"Yeah, maybe." Quinn's smile is a little sad as she looks down to where Brittany's hand is connected to Santana's.

Santana stiffens when she steps into her space. Quinn stares into her eyes, searching for who knows what. Santana stares right back and eventually Quinn seems to have found what she's looking for.

Quinn's eyes shift between them before settling back on Santana. "You hurt her, I will come after you. Understand?"

Brittany expects Santana to brush it off or make a joke of Quinn's dramatics. She doesn't expect Santana to just nod seriously. "I understand. I won't hurt her."

Brittany could melt into a puddle on the ground. It's hardly an I love you but it feels incredibly important.

Quinn seems satisfied enough with the answer as she steps away and stretches her wings to leave. "I'm holding you to that Satyr."

Before Santana can voice any further protest to the label, Quinn is gone, barely creating a breeze with her take off. Brittany envies her grace sometimes.

When she looks back to Santana, she's already looking at her. "Maybe we should, um. Get outa here?" Santana suggests, a quirk in her smile and a small blush visible in her cheeks.

"Yes." Brittany states with a confidence she rarely ever feels. "I think that would be good. Really, really good."

Santana grins at that. "But what about your quota thing?"

"Oh yeah. Okay, just stand really still for a sec, kay? I don't wanna accidentally hit you and have you falling in love with somebody else." Brittany blushes as she realises what she just suggested.

Santana bites her lip to smother her own smile. "I don't think those arrows would work on me right now anyway."

"Cause you're magic like me?"

Santana's cheeks get even darker and Brittany is sure her heart does a summersault in her chest when Santana shakes her head.

Brittany isn't sure where her feet are right now but she bends her knees anyway to push up into a jump. Her feet don't make it back to the ground as her wings stretch out then flex and beat to take her higher.

Santana watches from the ground as Brittany withdraws an arrow from her quiver and lets it loose into the crowd. Before Santana can even look for who it might have hit, she lets another arrow loose. Brittany moves almost quicker than Santana can see, loosing one arrow after another. Her quiver never empties as every time an arrow finds it's mark there seems to be a new one replacing it.

Brittany's expression is calculating as she watches the crowd for short stretches, finding several targets at once and then hitting them all in quick succession. She must let a hundred arrows loose into the crowd before she lowers her bow. There's a small satisfied smile on her face when she returns to the ground and stops in front of Santana.

"Okay, we can go now," she says breathlessly, a happy smile on her face.

Santana just shakes her head in awe as Brittany's wing curl into her back again. "That was just…"

Brittany can't seem to keep the smirk off her face as she asks. "Just what?"

"So hot." Santana says matter of factly. "Like, really hot."

Brittany grins at her in response. "Weren't we going somewh—"

"Yep, lets go." Santana grabs her hand and drags her through the sea of people to the closest gate out of the celebrating crowd.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Santana's apartment isn't that far from Times Square and Brittany, who has never been that concerned with distance before finds herself very glad of that. Santana's hand is just so warm in her own and whether Santana is human or not really doesn't matter right now.

Santana lives on the eighth floor which means for Santana's sake taking either stairs or getting in the elevator. Brittany has never been in an elevator before and that funny lurch in her stomach catches her unawares. She giggles in delight and clutches at Santana's arm.

"Does its always feel like that?"

Santana nods looking at Brittany like she thinks the startled girl is the best thing ever. It makes Brittany's heart thud even harder than the elevator starting did.

"Santana?" she starts uncertain. They're facing each other and having Santana so close to her, in such an enclosed space is making Brittany feel something wonderful and huge. "Can I ask you something?"

Santana nods. "Anything."

"Do you think—" she can't just say that can she? No. "Is your heart beating really fast too?"

Santana nods again and draws Brittany's hand up to press against her chest and over her heart. Brittany can feel it; she can feel Santana's heart thundering against her ribcage.

It takes Brittany's breath away. She can barely get out the next question. "Do you… Are you all tingly all over too?"

Santana nods.

"Do you think… Do you want to kiss me like I want to kiss you?"

Santana doesn't answer with words, just pulls Brittany forward and crashes their lips together.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

By the time the elevator dings to signal her floor Santana is very glad that it's a half hour until countdown and everyone is out for the fireworks because she is ready to just be done with it and rip Brittany's clothes off.

They match so perfectly. Santana can't think of a single person she's ever had this kind of chemistry with before. She doesn't know if it's as that delightfully bitchy Quinn-woman said and they're both magical or some shit. She does't care. All she cares about are Brittany's lips against her and Brittany's hot skin under her searching hands.

The fact that Brittany's shirt is completely open at the back is doing nothing to slow her desire. Every time her hands drift up to stroke the skin around Brittany's wings the girl shivers hard against her. Every time she shivers Santana's arousal sky rockets. Brittany's hands are exploring her just as thoroughly as they both work each other up to the edge.

Somehow Santana finds her door even in the midst of Brittany pushing her Jacket off her shoulders. After a few more minutes pressed against the door she forces herself to disconnect from Brittany and find her keys. They haven't come all this way to have sex against a door. Brittany pouts which nearly breaks Santana's determination but she turns her back on her with only a slightly wavering resolve. Brittany presses her hips into Santana's ass as she opens the door and Santana has to wonder how Brittany learned to press all of her buttons so quickly.

Inside the apartment, Santana has to be the one to step away again. They're both breathing heavily and things are heading down a certain road. They need to talk about this for a second because really, what do they know about each other? Not a hell of a lot. Brittany has wings, Santana might happen to be related to some kind of mythological goat creature. It's all a little much.

Santana kicks off her shoes and walks into her kitchen. Brittany does the same before following her. Santana deliberately puts the small dining table between them and Brittany looks like she's ready to crawl over it to get to her.

"Would you like some water Britt?"

Brittany looks startled by the innocuous question. "To do what?"

"To drink," Santana says, confused.

"Oh," Brittany leans back a little. "Okay, sure."

Santana breaths a sigh of relief, grabs two glasses down from the shelf and fills them both with water. Before she can turn around Brittany is pressed to her back again.

"Britt, I…"

"Santana?"

"Shit," Santana gasps as Brittany's fingers move smoothly up over the fabric of her skirt and under her top to caress against the skin of her stomach.

"Britt, I'd really like to turn around and slam you into that wall but—" Brittany's hands creep further up, halting Santana's words again. "But I'm afraid of hurting your wings—"

"You won't," Brittany murmurs as she drags her lips up Santana's neck.

"But I don't know that. I don't know anything except that I—" Santana cuts herself as she realises what three small but massively important words were about to fall past her lips. Where had that come from? She barely knows this girl. They only just met. She can't love her already.

Brittany must hear the almost-words as well because she takes a step back. Santana takes a gulp of water before returning the glass to the counter and turning around. Brittany is standing a few paces away and frowning in concentration. Before Santana can ask what she's doing Brittany's wings shiver and then start shrinking. Santana walks around Brittany until she can see the girl's back; she can see the last of the feathers retracting into the skin by her shoulder blades, first shrinking then absorbing straight into the skin.

"Wow," Santana breathes. "Did that hurt?"

Brittany looks over her shoulder to where the wings used to be. "Pinches a little." She says, turning to take a hold of Santana's hips with both hands. "Now about this slamming me against the wall scenario…"

"Britt," Santana whines.

"I'm kidding," Brittany laughs. "Well kinda."

Santana's eyes practically smoulder and Brittany really would like nothing more than to experience what Santana describes. There's other really important things though and Brittany has to concentrate.

She kisses Santana again just because she's so close and Santana smells so good. "I know we only just met and this is a little crazy—"

"So call me maybe?" Santana suggests.

Brittany just tilts her head, confused.

"I'm sorry, really," Santana laughs. "Keep going. You're doing great."

Brittany rolls her eyes because Santana totally just ruined the serious vibe. "Not fair San. I was gonna say that you're incredibly special to me and I think I love you but I've never been in love before and Quinn said the arrow didn't work so I thought that meant I couldn't even be in love until I met you but I guess, if you don't want to hear it then—"

"I love you."

"—I'll just let my wings back out and… What?"

Santana holds her hands against Brittany's cheeks and that now-familiar warmth spreads through her as Santana looks into her eyes. "I love you too. I don't know everything about you but I plan to. If you want to then I would very much like to know what it's like to date a sexy cupid girl."

Brittany grins as her heart expands in her chest. "An Amore," she corrects automatically.

"Whatever," Santana pulls her in and kisses her soundly, directing Brittany back into the nearest wall just like she said she would.

Their hands start to wander again as their bodies come back together. Santana's fingertips tickling over the skin where her wings used to be sends that incredible pulse of electricity through her and she gasps into Santana's mouth. There's only one more thing that she needs Santana to know and understand.

She breaks form Santana's lips. "I need you to know that I didn't—and I never would—I didn't use any arrows on you. There's no trick." Brittany squeezes her eyes shut hoping Santana will just understand and believe her.

She opens her eyes to see Santana smile as she pushes the frown away from between Brittany's eyebrows. "I never thought you did."

Brittany breaths a sigh of relief that abruptly turns into a moan as Santana's thigh presses in between her legs. It feels a lot like what happens when Santana runs her fingertips between Brittany's shoulders but way more. Brittany wants to know what will happen if she does that to Santana.

Apparently great things happen when she does that to Santana.

The air practically crackles around them when they reach the bedroom. Santana tugs at the knot in Brittany's shirt as Brittany finds the zip at the back of her skirt. Santana lets her shirt be pulled over her head a moment before she discovers Brittany wears some particularly tiny underwear with little love hearts on them and no bra. At all.

Santana tears her tights away from her legs before they collapse on the bed in their underwear; the heat of their skin as they press together is becoming intense. Santana still doesn't know if it's magic and she still doesn't care. This girl is incredible and she aims to discover every inch of heated skin before the night is over.

Within a few more minutes Santana discovers just how delightfully sensitive Brittany is between her shoulder blades without the wings and uses it to her advantage. Brittany discovers that Santana has boobs.

Santana's sure she would find Brittany's enthusiasm hilarious if the feeling of Brittany's hot hands discovering her flesh wasn't so overwhelming. She's not even sure when she lost her bra because Brittany's lips were just so distracting. Now Brittany's eyes are settled firmly on her chest.

"You know," Santana pants as Brittany tweaks a nipple with a curious expression. "They've been here this whole time."

Brittany gulps as she looks up into Santana's face. "Yeah, but I didn't know, I didn't expect—I…"

Santana finally takes pity on the angel in her bed and kisses her into silence.

Brittany has never felt anything as wonderful as Santana's skin. She tastes wonderful, she feels wonderful and the way she moves is just… beyond words. Removing Santana's bra was the best decision of her life and the newly exposed skin holds her interest more than she would have thought possible. The fact that Santana reacts the way she does, the way her body moves when Brittany runs her thumb over certain spots just makes it even better.

Knowing how wonderful Santana's neck tastes, Brittany continues to explore with her tongue. Every inch of Santana is delectable. Especially her breasts. Brittany presses her body into Santana's to keep her still as she licks, nips and kisses across the supple and apparently sensitive skin.

"Britt," Santana gasps out her name as one of her hands pushes into her hair and the other grips at her back to rub between her shoulder blades.

The dual sensations is incredible and overwhelming as pulses of electricity surge to and from the apex of her thighs.

"Fuck Santana," She says, lips moving against Santana's breasts. "You have to stop—ungh—with the… shoulders… too much."

Santana lifts her hand from between Brittany's shoulders and she's torn between being relieved and wishing she'd not said anything. Santana erases all further thought by tugging at her hair until Brittany finally realises what she wants and crawls back up her body.

Santana pushes at her angel's shoulders until she's on her back and Santana can have her own way with that incredible body. Or she would be if Brittany's lips weren't attached to hers and Brittany's hands weren't running up and down her back with intermittent squeezes to her ass.

At one particularly firm grab, Santana's hips thrust down into Brittany's. They both groan at the pressure and Santana knows that neither of them can take much more teasing.

Santana lets one hand drift down Brittany's side while the other stays in Brittany's hair, keeping her locked in their kiss. Santana nips at Brittany's lip then pushes her tongue over it into Brittany's mouth. At the same time she lifts her hips enough to push at the waist band of Brittany's underwear. It's a little awkward going but then Brittany must get the hint; she lifts her own hips and pushes at the other side of the waistband until the love-heart spotted fabric is pushed down and past her knees.

They laugh together as the underwear gets tangled around Brittany's ankles and they both have to kick until the fabric is finally gone. Santana looks down long enough to kick the offending piece of clothing off the bed altogether. When she looks up again Brittany is just staring at her with the most adoring expression.

Brittany swallows before trying to say something, "I l—"

"I love you," Santana interrupts with a mischievous grin.

Brittany bites at her lip before trying again. "I lo—"

Santana just interrupts again. "I love you."

"Santana," Brittany whines, pulling at Santana's shoulders so she can bury her head against her neck.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry Britt Britt. I won't interrupt this time," Santana laughs.

Brittany looks like she's going to cry.

"What? I'm sorry, don't you like—"

"No I like that nickname. A lot. And I…" she hesitates to make sure Santana isn't going to interrupt again.

Santana pulls her lips into her mouth to indicate as much.

"I love you Santana."

Santana feels her heart flutter again; even while it's beating so hard with the way that Brittany is touching her, that confident declaration makes her feel even more…of everything.

Santana kisses her again and as Brittany's hips start that rhythmic roll against her Santana lets her hand drift down Brittany's side and between their bodies. She pushes into soft, wet heat, exploring but ultimately letting the natural shift of Brittany's hips guide her. At a particularly aggressive jerk Santana lets her hand drift lower. The squirming girl gasps audibly and pulls her lover closer as she feels Santana push into her.

"Britt? Are you okay," Santana questions, needing to be sure.

Brittany just nods, her eyes scrunched closed and her breathing heavy. "Keep going."

Santana kisses Brittany's lips then her cheek and her neck. She trails her lips up and down Brittany's neck waiting for her to finally relax before really moving again. She moves slow, taking even more care until Brittany is rolling against her in the same way she was before. Santana adjusts her arm so she can bump her hand against that sensitive spot and when Brittany's back arches tightly, she manoeuvres her other hand under her to stroke the skin between Brittany's shoulder blades.

Brittany falls apart moments later and Santana keep stroking her skin until she finally, gradually relaxes. Brittany shivers one more time as Santana withdraws her hand from between her legs.

"Fireworks," Brittany laughs, a blissful smile brightening her whole expression.

Santana chuckles along with her as she repositions herself on the bed, only half lying against Brittany's side. "That good huh?"

Brittany bites her lip, still breathing heavy. "That too but um, well listen."

Santana emerges from her Brittany haze to listen for anything aside from Brittany's pants or Brittany's heartbeat. She realises that, yes there are in fact fireworks going off nearby, complete with a shimmer or colours reflecting against the wall opposite the window.

She bury's her face in Brittany's shoulder as she laughs at herself for saying something so ridiculously cheesy. "Oh, god Brittany."

"You'll get to say that a few more times tonight," Brittany says with a smirk as she kisses Santana's shoulder.

Santana laughs again because somehow her sweet girl just surpassed her own cheesiness. She shakes her head. "Happy New Year Brittany."

Brittany nudges her nose against Santana's. "Happy New Year San."

Brittany stares at the girl she loves, wondering how she could be so lucky. She then nudges Santana until she's on her back and Brittany can take her favourite place between Santana's thighs. She takes both of Santana's hands and pushes them into the pillows above her head.

"Now, keep still San. I wanna try something."

Santana sees fireworks again and this time it's definitely all Brittany.


AN: Happy New Years everyone! I'll probably end up posting another chapter for Valentines Day so if you wanna know when that happens then y'all know what to do.