At 30,000 feet, Santana Lopez woke for breakfast. She pulled her long dark hair from under her black travel pillow and onto her shoulders, and let her head fall back for just a minute more. The cabin lights were still on, yet daylight shone through the aeroplane window next to her. On her right, her travel companion was already awake – iPad in hand.
"Britt, you're awake already?" asked Santana, removing the pillow from around her neck she leaned over to kiss her girlfriend on the cheek.
At Santana's touch, Brittany dropped the headphones around her neck, ruffling her blonde hair. She was wearing a white tank top with 'I Heart Lesbos' in orange. The couple had visited a little run-down souvenir shop at Molyvos agora and Brittany had bought gifts for practically everyone she knew.
"San! I couldn't sleep, I am so excited."
"As excited as you were to visit that oil museum in Lesbos?" asked Santana with a smirk and a tilt of her head.
"Santana," said Brittany with wide eyes, "The Museum of Industrial Olive-Oil Production is Lesbos' greatest asset. The tour was both informative and interesting, and well – we both enjoyed the oil from the gift shop."
"That we did baby, that we did."
The brunette snuggled into her girlfriends shoulder with a satisfied smile.
"What were you watching, anyway?"
"LOST. We're going to Hawaii, on a plane. And LOST was set in Hawaii, so it's really getting me in the mood."
"Didn't the plane crash, Britt?"
"Well, yeah. But the beach looks good. Plus the polar bears and the black smoke are giving me some great ideas for my next episode of Fondue For Two."
Santana's questions and many concerns were interrupted by 'breakfast'. Breakfast being watered down coffee and a sad little muffin. Santana watched with affection as her girlfriend gave her muffin wrapped in a napkin to a crying little girl on the next row, who had dropped her own muffin on the floor.
'She is going to be a great mom one day' thought Santana, incredulous that just over a month ago she had believed that she and Brittany were over for good. She had been miserable, lost and a little empty. It almost scared Santana that she was now so comfortable, she felt at peace – enveloped and tucked in to life with Brittany and all of the good stuff that came with it.
"Hey do you remember this guy?" asked Brittany with a laugh. She was waving the iPad under Santana's nose, the screen showing a photograph of the smiling, tanned couple with a waiter named Steafan who worked at their hotel. Steafan had taken to calling Brittany and Santana "Mrs Lopezes!" and regaled them with tales of his ex-wife, her new career as a Madonna impersonator and his bitterness towards buff agents named Chad. There had been one night, after Steafan's shift when he sat with the girls and after an Ouzo or three, had gone on a pretty passionate rant that involved many an angry cone bra gesticulation.
After scrolling through a few snaps from Lesbos, Santana grabbed the spare tank top she had in her hand luggage and a hair brush and headed for the bathroom to freshen up. Looking in the mirror she ran the brush through her long thick hair, analysing her own appearance. Her face was make up free, skin glowing and healthy from the sunshine and fresh Greek food. She had never looked or felt better.
As she peeled the navy vest over her head to change, she heard somebody try the handle. "One minute," she said impatiently. The only thing Santana disliked about travelling was the whole lack of privacy thing.
The handle went again.
Santana covered her chest with her scrunched up tank top, she was wearing just a black bra and grey sweatpants and she would be damned if the sweaty guy from seat 43C was going to get a peek of the girls.
"What the fuck?" asked Santana opening the door just enough to go a little Lima Heights.
To her surprise, Brittany was the one who had been trying the door and before Santana could say a thing her blonde girlfriend had pushed her through the door, locking it behind them.
There were no words said as Brittany pushed Santana against the sink, smiling into the kiss. She grabbed the scrunched up tank top in Santana's hand and dropped it to the floor, directing Santana's now empty hands up her shirt and underneath her bra.
Santana rubbed Brittany's hard nipple between her thumb and finger, head thrown back as kisses were scattered down her neck.
"I've been wanting you this entire flight" whispered Brittany, "It's the longest it's been since we landed in Greece and I can't wait another minute."
Santana couldn't say a word as Brittany's hand disappeared into her sweatpants, fingers finding their way beneath the lacy fabric of her thong and inside of her. Ever since their reunion, there had been this urgency, a passion that hadn't let up for a second.
Santana rocked gently against the sink as Brittany thrust her fingers back and forth, her other hand groping at Santana's bra. Santana positioned herself so that she could lift up Brittany's shirt and expose the breast that she had been teasing, and she flicked her tongue over her nipple.
"I'm so close" moaned the brunette, and as she said it Brittany took her hand from her sweatpants and looked Santana straight in the eye as she licked her fingers clean.
Santana struggled for breath, she wanted more. Britt knew how much that turned her on.
"Britt, baby, don't stop. Please. We don't have much time, somebody might-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Brittany's hands found their way to Santana's sweatpants again, this time pulling them to the floor. Santana leant back onto the sink as Brittany dropped to her knees; she closed her eyes as she felt the blonde's tongue stroking the fabric of her soaking thong. Her tongue teased at the edging of the fabric, driving San insane.
"Please Britt" she moaned, running her hands through the long blonde hair between her legs.
She shuddered as Brittany's tongue finally met her clit, the ease with which her girlfriend satisfied her blowing her mind once again. She felt a finger enter her too, and with that her body shook. Her pussy tightened and that familiar sensation pulsed throughout her entire being.
As she relaxed against the sink, Brittany stood up and smiled that smile. She trailed her fingers across her lips in the way that always let Santana know that she loved her taste, and she leant forward to share a kiss with her girl.
"You, you're amazing" said Santana with a glint in her eye, as her thumb trailed the waistband of Brittany's maxi skirt "Are we officially in the mile high club here? Let me repay the favour…"
"We land in a half an hour," said Brittany with a smile, "How about we spend our first day exploring our suite and you know, curing our jet lag in that king-sized bed?"
Santana stroked her girlfriend's hair "That sounds perfect, but I'm gonna need a little something to keep me going."
And Santana fell to her knees, ignoring the banging on the bathroom door.