It's serious ink day at the naked ladies' spa. They'd driven three hours to get here. They read all 25 of the rules.
Including Rule Number 7: Public displays of affection are inappropriate and not allowed at the spa.
Brittany gave her a small smile, barely pursed her lips, and turned slightly away, swigging her water. Santana blinked, her eyes opening softer than before. They agreed anyway.
When they'd changed into the gowns and caps provided, Santana whispered, "We look like we're at the naked ladies' mental institution." Brittany's eyes twinkled.
They showered and entered the pool area, which resembled an extremely clean train station. They settled into one of the hot pools.
All around them were tattooed naked ladies, some of them with ink over most of their skin. Two had matching tattoos behind both knees.
"I feel underdressed, inkwise," said Brittany.
There were skinny women, round women, women shaved and not, and all manner of wax jobs. Pointy boobs, tiny boobs, giant boobs, and of course rubber boobs. Old girls, young girls, all shades.
"Ever wonder what it'd be like to put your mouth on a breast as big as your head?" whispered Brittany.
"Not til just now," grinned Santana.
A little bit later she said, "Everyone here has a kind of…"
Brittany looked deeply into her eyes. "I know."
Santana pinched her lower lip between her teeth. She scooted closer, her eyes drifting a little lower.
"Rule Number 7," warned Brittany, the corner of her mouth quirking slightly. By now, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes lighted for a moment on Santana's lips.
"Did they specify what exactly comprises PDA?"
"I love surprise PDA," murmured Brittany. She took a long drink of water.
Santana closed her eyes. Murmuring ladies' voices over running water filled her ears. When she opened her eyes, Brittany was gone.
Her breath stopped, and she scanned the room, once, twice. No Britt. Her pulse stuttered. She trembled with cold. In a hot tub.
Alone and unknown.
Like their months apart. Like being outed in a crowded hallway. She knew the reaction was unnecessary, and yet it continued.
She scanned the room again, and just when she was going to go looking for her, she found Brittany in the cold pool, making a shocking cold face. Santana smiled sheepishly.
Santana brought her hands to her eyes, smoothing her breath. The best remedy wasn't allowed.
A splash beside her. Without opening her eyes, Santana stretched out her arms to either side. She brushed something soft. She opened her eyes.
"Surprise," she said.
"Good thing it was me," said Brittany. "Hi."
"Tell me when you're leaving?"
"I'm never leaving you," said Brittany, "I love you, and you are so easy to love." The second-best remedy.
"We should have reserved a hotel room," said Santana.
"Just did, silly," said Brittany. She blinked once, slowly. "Happy Anniversary."
Santana's cheeks pinked, even more than they were already.
Then she said, "Which anniversary is matching tattoos?"