The first time it happens, they're at the movies. It's a Friday night and they're on another date. Santana is pretty sure it's their eleventh date—she's been trying to keep track, but they go on dates so often now that she's losing count. Her stomach is full of breadsticks and linguini, her fingers are wrapped around Brittany's, and she feels a thrilling energy that makes it difficult for her to sit quietly in the theater. Usually it's Brittany who's restless and buzzing and fidgety, but ever since they started dating, Santana's felt like a bouncy ball that never comes to rest.
"You're antsy again, San," Brittany says around her soda straw.
"Just want the movie to start."
"Tuh," says Brittany. "Don't you know the previews are the best part?"
"Fine. I just want the previews to start, then. We should have stayed in the car longer."
"But then we probably would have had sex," Brittany smirks.
Santana laughs. "Why is that bad?"
"You know I don't like to make sweet lady love when my stomach's weighed down by BreadstiX."
"Fair enough," Santana says, and steals Brittany's soda.
It happens a few minutes before the movie starts. Brittany's gone to the bathroom again ("I'm done with the Dr. Pepper, I promise," she says, and kisses Santana's temple before she skips down the steps) and a small group of teenagers files into their row.
"Can we sit here?" a girl asks Santana.
"Sure," she automatically responds. And then: "I just need to save a seat for my girlfriend."
And that's the first time. That's the first time she uses that term.
She reels a little bit when she realizes it. Girlfriend. My girlfriend. She just referred to Brittany as her girlfriend.
She plays the words back in her head.
I just need to save a seat for my girlfriend.
What does that mean? What does that other girl think she means?
I just need to save a seat for this girl who is my friend.
I just need to save a seat for my friend who is a girl.
I just need to save a seat for my girl.
I just need to save a seat for the girl I'm dating.
I just need to save a seat for the girl I love.
This feels like something big, and weird and wonderful, and natural. How did it just slide off her tongue like that?
She likes it. She likes this term. Girlfriend.
"Hey," says Brittany, sliding back in next to her. "There was this super weird chick in the bathroom…she asked me if I had any deodorant she could borrow."
"Gross."
"Yeah.
The theater darkens, the previews begin, and Santana tucks this new joy away inside of her. She'll open it up to Brittany later, but for now, she wants to cherish it on her own.
…
"That wasn't as good as I thought it would be," Santana says as they leave the theater. "People need to stop copying the Love, Actually formula."
"I don't know, I thought it was pretty good," Brittany says as she tosses her drink in a trash can. Santana reaches for her free hand without thinking about it. "That girl who was in the elevator with Ashton Kutcher was annoying, though."
"Really? I thought she was hot."
"Definitely annoying."
They walk through the lobby hand-in-hand. Santana's getting better about it. She doesn't feel as uncomfortable as she used to, and either fewer people are staring at them or she's doing a better job of ignoring the stares. Brittany holds the door open for her, and as they walk across the parking lot, Brittany asks, "Wanna stop at Country Kitchen for a slice of pie, sweetie pie?"
Santana laughs and shakes her head at Brittany's ridiculousness. Brittany laughs too and grins at her.
"If we're gonna use cheesy pet names, do we have to use that one?" Santana asks.
"And here I was thinking you'd like that," Brittany jokes. "But seriously, wanna get some dessert?"
"Yes."
"Good, 'cause I have a major sugar craving right now and I was going to make you stop even if you didn't want anything."
"You're a brat."
Brittany kisses her in front of the car. "You love me, though."
Santana kisses her back. "You're right, I do."
…
There's a big crowd at Country Kitchen. Most of the booths are taken, but Santana spots a couple of empty ones in the back corner and crosses her fingers that the people in line in front of them won't take them. She and Brittany wait quietly in line to order; Brittany hums under her breath and fiddles with her dark maroon scarf. Santana scans the list of dessert items and mulls over her options, but can't decide.
"What are you getting, baby?"
"Pecan pie," Brittany answers immediately. "It's so good here."
"Okay, 'cause I was trying to decide between that and cheesecake. If I get cheesecake, can we share?"
"Duh."
"Perfect."
They finally reach the counter, and the large woman behind it smiles at Santana and asks, "What can I get for you, honey?"
"Hi. A piece of cheesecake for me, and—"she glances at Brittany—"a slice of pecan pie for my girlfriend."
The woman flits her eyes over Brittany before punching a few buttons on the register. "Anything else?"
"No, thank you."
"It'll be $6.50."
Brittany reaches into her purse, but Santana places a gentle hand over her wrist and says, "I got it."
She hands the woman her debit card and waits for the transaction to clear. The woman thanks her and hands them their desserts.
Brittany leads the way to one of the corner booths Santana was eyeing earlier. They sit across from each other; Brittany kicks her legs up onto Santana's side of the booth and leans back against her own booth. Santana sits upright, elbow on the table, and steals a bite of Brittany's pie before she even tries her own dessert.
"Shit," Santana says appreciatively. "That is good."
Brittany makes no move to touch the dessert. She watches Santana and beams.
"What?" Santana asks.
"You know what," Brittany says. "You just told that lady that I was your girlfriend."
Santana drops her gaze to her cheesecake. "Well, you are, aren't you?" she asks shyly.
"Yes," Brittany laughs, tapping her foot against Santana's thigh. "100 percent. No question."
"Good. I said it to somebody at the movies, too."
"You did? When?"
"When you were in the bathroom. This girl asked me if she and her friends could sit in our row, and without even thinking about it I was like, 'Yeah, but save room for my girlfriend.' And then I was like, oh my god, I just called Brittany my girlfriend."
Brittany laughs and digs her fork into Santana's cheesecake. "How did it feel?"
"Amazing."
"I know what you mean. I said it to somebody last week."
"You did?"
"I was wearing one of your tee-shirts—you know the one with that weird band's name on it? And somebody asked me if I was fan of them and I told them that my girlfriend was."
Santana's body buzzes all over. She swallows the lump in her throat but it comes right back.
"Feels even more amazing to hear it, doesn't it?" Brittany says.
"Yeah. It really, really does." She pauses and then blurts out, "I love being your girlfriend."
Brittany bites her lip to hold back her huge smile, but she can't contain it. She picks up the ketchup bottle on the table and says to it, very seriously, "Hey, Mr. Heinz, did you know that's my girlfriend?"
Santana falls back against the booth and laughs so delightedly that the guys in the next booth shoot them looks.
"Sorry, she just really loves the cheesecake here," Brittany tells them.
"You are too much," Santana says.
Brittany grins, takes a bite of her pie, and asks, "So who else are you going to tell I'm your girlfriend?"
"Everybody in the world."
"Tell the salt and pepper shakers."
"No," Santana laughs. "That's weird."
"You thought it was funny when I did it."
"Because it's you. Talking to inanimate objects is your brand of crazy, not mine."
"I'll give you 100 kisses tonight."
"People are going to think we have problems. We are going to get thrown out of this diner."
"100 kisses," Brittany repeats.
Santana sighs and picks up the salt and pepper shakers. She looks at Brittany, who nods approvingly, before she says in a smooth voice, "Hey Lady Salt. Hey Papa Pepper. I need to tell you something."
Brittany giggles. Santana looks back and forth from salt shaker to pepper shaker, as if she's really conversing with them, and says, "You see that pretty girl across the table? She's off-limits to you. Both of you—because I know how you roll, Lady Salt."
"She's gay?" Brittany whispers scandalously.
"According to my flawless gaydar, yes."
"Awesome."
"Britt, you're interrupting," Santana says seriously. She looks back to the condiments in her hands. "As I was saying," she tells them, "Brittany is my girlfriend. So you best stay away or Imma take care of you in the only way I know how."
Brittany claps her hands together and rewards Santana with a huge smile. "I should have recorded that."
"No way," says Santana. She returns the salt and pepper to the side of the table and kicks her legs up on Brittany's booth.
Brittany rests her arm over Santana's calves. "You're adorable. And I think you kinda liked that."
"Did not."
"You totally did. Pass me your cheesecake."
…
They lace their fingers together as they leave the restaurant and walk out to the parking lot, and Santana thinks it's the greatest feeling in the world to hold hands with her girlfriend.
Then, when she drops Brittany off and Brittany leans over to kiss her goodnight with a quiet "Thanks, baby. Love you," Santana thinks it's the greatest feeling in the world to kiss her girlfriend.
"You promised me 100 kisses," she reminds Brittany.
Brittany kisses her over and over in rapid succession. "I'm going to have to break my promise," she says. "I can't give you all of them tonight. How about I give you 200 kisses tomorrow night?"
"Why not tonight?"
"Because I told my parents that my girlfriend would have me home by midnight," Brittany says against her lips. "But I also told them that I'd be staying at my girlfriend's house tomorrow night."
Santana places a hand on Brittany's jaw and kisses her firmly. "Deal. But I'm not going to forget your debt. I'm like Scrooge."
"You're way cuter than Scrooge," Brittany mumbles through the kiss.
"Text me before you go to sleep."
"Always. 'Night, sweetheart." Brittany kisses her one last time and pulls away. They smile at each other with mutual tenderness for a moment, and then Brittany opens the door and gets out of the car.
"I love you," Brittany says again as she stands in her driveway and holds the car door.
"I love you, too," Santana tells her. "'Night, baby."
As she drives home, Santana thinks it's the greatest feeling in the world to be in love with her girlfriend.