When Santana high-tailed it to New York, there were a few things she definitely overlooked: 1) If the heat went out at home, all it took was a simple match to re-ignite the pilot light. In the city that never sleeps, especially in Santana's warehouse-turned-loft apartment, a busted radiator meant living in parkas and Uggs for at least two weeks until the Super finally caved and called for a fix. 2) The snow in New York is an entirely different beast. In Lima, the winter wonderland is soft and fluffy, something out of a fairytale. New York snow is literally frozen ice that sticks to the ground in hopes of sending city-dwellers to the ER. And 3) The cost of flights during the holidays was ludicrous. Sure, Santana could attempt to scrounge up enough money to foot the bill, but that would also mean not eating for a week. And while she loved her mom's cooking and the way her family seemed enthralled by her stories of the Big Apple, Santana just couldn't justify dropping $700 for three nights in Lima. She'd be home for Christmas anyway. At least that's what she told herself to fend off the impending loneliness of spending Thanksgiving alone eating microwavable Fettuccini Alfredo and binge watching The Walking Dead.
Rachel left on Wednesday night, her Bambi-eyed apology making Santana roll her eyes and submit to a tight hug goodbye. Kurt would still be in New York with Elliot, but Santana refused to be the third wheel of that queercycle. And Dani? Well, Dani hadn't returned any of Santana's calls since she came clean about kissing Brittany on her trip home for the fourth of July. What a mess. Maybe Santana did need this time alone.
Thanksgiving morning wasn't so bad. Santana created a blanket cocoon and semi-watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade as it traveled the length of Central Park. She was snacking on dark chocolate Milanos when her phone vibrated against her thigh. She had been texting Quinn all morning about how wanky the balloon Spiderman's hand pose looked. Quinn criticized her gutter mind, but Santana knew she was smiling at her phone.
By 2 o'clock, Santana had ventured from the warmth of her bed and walked laps around her living room and kitchen. She'd called her mom, the whole family shouting on speaker phone to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving in a mix of English and Spanish.
"I'm great, mom. Honest. Es la verdad," Santana soothed, laying back on the couch and hooking her legs over the arm. "I'm having dinner with Kurt and Elliot later, so I have to start getting ready," she lied, trying to put her mother at ease. Maribel wasn't easily fooled. "Feliz dia de Accion de Gracias, mami," Santana chimed, ready to hang up. A loud rap on the front door aided in ending her call. "Gotta go mom, Kurt probably forgot his key again." Santana mumbled another quick goodbye before disconnecting and shoving her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt.
"You know, I should start charging a fee for every time I have to open this damn door for you, Mary Kay," Santana warned, throwing back the lock and wrenching the door open. But it wasn't Kurt standing on the other side.
Silky electric blue hair framed a familiar face before tumbling down leather clad shoulders.
"Dani?" Santana's breath hitched. She hadn't spoken to Dani in months and she only caught glimpses of her at work when there was a shift change.
"In the flesh," Dani agreed, squaring her shoulders. She was definitely still in defensive mode.
"What…why…hi," Santana finally managed, her brain faltering. She'd thought about this moment countless times, but for some infuriating reason she couldn't recall any proper sentiments. "Wh…what are you doing here?" Santana's grip on the door tightened, her knuckles turning white.
"Kurt called me," Dani answered, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "He said you weren't going home for Thanksgiving." Her gaze flicked from Santana to the wall to the floor and finally back to Santana, a nervous bird unsure of where to land. "Holidays alone are rough. Trust me."
Santana chewed on her bottom lip, fighting back the impulse to pull Dani into a tight hug; she'd lost that privilege when she allowed herself to sink back into the familiarity of Brittany's kiss. "Come in," Santana urged, sidestepping away from the door to allow Dani access to the loft. Her heart fluttered a nauseating rhythm against her sternum; Dani had a knack for making Santana's stomach twist itself into knots.
"Thanks." Dani stepped into the apartment and slowly pivoted to face Santana as she shut the door. Dani had an entire monologue planned, but the words slipped from her memory as she watched Santana's movements; it was hard enough to avoid her ex's calls, voicemails, texts, and e-mails, but being in Santana's presence, alone, was pure torture. "I'm doing this for Kurt," Dani stated bluntly, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her jacket. It was a lie. She wasn't doing this for Kurt; she wasn't even doing it for Santana. Dani was there because she needed to do this for herself. The last few months had been awful. And even though Santana had basically ripped her heart out and served it to her on a silver platter, something kept tugging Dani back to her.
"Okay," Santana replied, feeling the need to wave a white flag. She didn't ask for Dani to come, but she didn't want her to leave either. "I uh…I didn't really prepare for having company. Sorry." Santana tugged at the hem of her oversized sweatshirt and looked down at her patterned leggings that were tucked into fuzzy purple socks. Mortifying.
Dani couldn't help the small smile that betrayed her stoic facade. She'd seen Santana with a head cold, all mucous and misery, and when she'd gotten poison oak in Central Park that turned her beautiful caramel skin into a splotchy red canvas; this lazy day outfit was nothing. "You're fine," Dani reassured, her eyes lingering on Santana longer than they should have.
Santana combed her fingers through her tangled hair and let out a sigh that she'd been holding in since July. "Look, D, I'm sorry…I fucked up." The dam was broken and her sentiments flowed freely. Santana couldn't reign in the words that she'd been dying to say for the last four months. "And I know I hurt you. I know that. I was an idiot. It was a mistake. And I've tried so hard to tell you how sorry I am. To try and fix it." Santana's heart was hammering, trying its best to break free from her ribcage. "Tell me what I can do to fix us. Please."
Dani swallowed thickly. This was what she feared. It was also what she hoped for. Santana was still fighting for them when Dani had all but given up. "You can't fix this, Santana," she countered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Not unless you've got insider knowledge on time travel." Dani tightened her arms around herself as Santana cringed. "And I get it, okay? People make mistakes. But then you fucking lied about it. I knew something had happened and you still lied to my face. You looked me right in the eyes and all that was coming out of your mouth was complete bullshit. How was I supposed to deal with that?" Anger had seeped into Dani's voice and it made Santana's insides squirm.
"Blue…" It was the nickname Santana had dubbed Dani with when she first stepped out of the bathroom with cerulean hair. "Please…I'm so sorry." Santana could taste the bile that rose to the back of her throat.
"Don't." Dani raised her hand, a visible motion for Santana to stop. Dani released a heavy sigh. "I didn't come here to do this, Santana." Her resolve was dwindling and she didn't think she'd be able to handle much more of Santana's apologies.
"Well too damn bad," Santana blurted, angry at Dani for walking away and angry at herself for being a grade-A douchebag. "You don't do anything you don't want to do. I know that much. So you didn't come here as a promise to Kurt to check up on me. You came here because you needed the truth. And now that I'm giving it to you, you're backing away? Fuck that. Yes, I screwed up. Yes, I lied. Newsflash, I'm a bitch. But I still fucking love you and you didn't even give me the chance to prove that." Santana's chest was heaving, frustrated tears breaching her lids and carving wet trails down her cheeks.
Dani stood silent, her throat tightening with each word Santana spoke. She watched as tears dripped slowly from Santana's jaw to splatter on the wooden floor. "I'm not the bad guy, Santana," she reproached, swiping at her own tears.
"Neither am I…if you give me the chance to show you." Santana softened, using the back of her hand to rid her face of the offending saltwater. She waited a beat before stepping forward and cupping Dani's jaw in her palm. Santana's thumb stroked over Dani's tear-stained cheek as she leaned in and pressed a yearning kiss to pink lips that tasted like menthol.
She had promised herself this wouldn't happen, but Dani couldn't help loosening her arms and snaking them around Santana's petite waist. She opened her mouth to the spicy cinnamon of Santana's tongue and sighed in relief.
Their kiss was hungry, ebbing between passion, anger, and forgiveness. Santana's lungs burned for air but she couldn't pull herself away from the closeness she was finally getting with Dani. She looped her arm around Dani's neck and captured fistfuls of neon hair. "I'm sorry." Santana breathed the words into Dani's lungs between kisses. "I'm so sorry, Blue." Her head was spinning and her heart felt like it was growing too big for her chest. Santana fused her body to Dani's as their teeth and tongues battled. This was better than her mom's homemade pie or her cousin's famous cranberry sauce. Kissing Dani was Santana's version of going home. And she had lots to be thankful for.