When the band called it quits and began to strike down the instruments, they had finally left the gym. Amidst the little cloud of glee-clubbers, Santana felt shielded enough to not care when Brittany wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close, simply snaking one arm around Brittany's slender waist in response. She rested her head groggily on Brittany's shoulder, giggling at something she said and poking Kurt lazily in the back with his prom queen sceptre which she totally snagged the moment he wasn't looking.

"Quit it Satan," He threw over his shoulder in a huff, before he received another kiss on the cheek by his boyfriend to placate him.

"Nope," she retorted, poking once again for emphasis and giggling together with Brittany. After all, the evening wasn't that bad, she mused as they all walked down the hallway as the last group of students. Only when they exited through the double doors into the cool night air and everybody split up, leaving for their cars, she remembered the missing piece.

Halfway down the stairs Santana stopped dead in her track, forcing Brittany, still holding her, to a stop as well. As so many times before she seemed to get what Santana was thinking without words. "Do you need a ride?" she asked. "You can totally stay the night if you want."

Even though Santana knew the invitation didn't entail sex, not for the time being at least, she was more than tempted to curl under the covers and have her best friend cuddle her and tell her once again that everything would be alright. Santana was about to say yes, when she spotted Dave's truck further down the parking lot, turning her nod into a last minute head shake. "Sorry Brit, there's something I have to take care off."

Brittany followed her line of vision, noting the truck, then looked back at Santana. Other's might have taken Santana's words as thinly veiled code for fucking Dave, but even though Santana has kept the details of her relationship with Karofsky under a lock, even from Brittany, Brittany was able to see it. Santana didn't know how she did it, probably years of practise of reading Santana, that or an unshakeable trust bordering on naïve in the words 'I love you'.

Whatever it was, Brittany simply embraced her tight once more, pressing a kiss to her temple and whispered "Goodnight," into her ear.

"I'll call you tomorrow." Santana whispered back, squeezing her body against hers before releasing her. She watched as Brittany skipped to her car, giving her a small parting wave when the engine came to live, then she headed back around the school building. She was pretty certain, she'd knew where to find the elusive prom king.

Santana spotted the lone figure up on the stands as soon as she had reached the football field. "Gottcha," she murmured, but what exactly she wanted to do, now that she had found Dave, she didn't know. Her primary objective had been finding him, then making sure he was okay somehow but she is still Santana Lopez and terribly bad at dealing with feelings.

„What are you doing here?" The clicking sound of her high-heels on the bleachers alerted him to her presence but it was to cool tonight to be walking barefoot and she wasn't out to sneak up and scare him anyway.

Santana didn't answer until she had reached him. When she had, she planted herself right in front of him, both hands firmly on her hips, looking down sternly, more for show than really meaning it. "I'm here looking for my sorry excuse of a prom-date who left me alone in the gym." It didn't matter since he had not looked up once, keeping his face hidden behind his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. A muffled "Sorry," escaped from behind his hands. Santana shook her head. "Sorry does not cut it buddy. You're a terrible beard, ya know, running out, not coming back and not giving me a ride home." She used a stern voice, but it lacked her usual bite. The way he sat there on the bench, slumped over, he reminded Santana of a giant teddy bear. "Yeah, I know. Will you leave me alone if I give you the car keys?" he asked and Santana bit her tongue. Dave's voice sounded utterly defeated and if her bitchiness couldn't get a rouse out of him Santana had even less of an idea at how to help him. With Brittany she would know what to say, or at least what to do, cradle the girl in her arms an stroke her hair, but Santana was pretty sure Dave would not appreciate this course of action. When no words sprung to her mind she awkwardly plopped down on the stands next to him. Sensing the movement he looked up for a second, eyes wide in astonishment as if he couldn't really trust his eyes that she was still there, before he turned his head to the other side. "I said I'm sorry for being a shitty beard, can't you leave me alone already?"

"Why? Is the pity party you've been throwing yourself out here for the last hour such a rave?" Santana bit back before she could stop herself. It was an automatic reaction almost. Still she regretted it immediately when Dave made to rise with a cold "Fuck off Lopez!" on his lips.

She caught his sleeve in an iron grip, courtesy of training years under one Sue Sylvester, pulling him back down. "Look I'm not good at this shit, but I came to see how you're doing..."

For a moment the unbelieving look was back on his face and in another situation Santana would probably laugh at it, because Dave looks almost like Finn when he does it.

"Why?"

It was the only question Dave asked, but not one Santana had expected. Actually she has wondered about why she came herself. The campaign for Prom King and Queen was officially over, there were no other students here to be convinced that they were dating, all in all she had no reason to be here, nothing to gain.

"Brittany," Santana said slowly. Funny how pretty much everything in her life could be related to her love in some way or other.

"What do you mean?" Dave was puzzled. "She's not here, is she?"

Santana shook her head. "No, it's something she said earlier. She told me to be there for Kurt, 'cause winning was a lot harder on him than loosing was on me." It took a deep drag of breath before Santana could get the words past her lips, admitting she cared in a way. "But nobody thought if it was hard on you, too."

It was the best Santana could bring herself to admit she had been worried about him, when his truck had still been in the parking lot and it was enough, for Dave understood her. It was, Santana mused, one of the reasons why their partnership struck, they both spoke the same language, aside from Karofsky not speaking 'Brittany'.

"We talked about it, a few days before prom, in the hallway," he confessed, still avoiding eye contact, "he told me that if I stopped hiding I would feel better."

Santana made a non-committal grunt. It was the same thing Brittany has been telling her for weeks, hell she has been telling it herself for weeks, yet when it came down to it she'd always been a coward first and foremost.

Dave continued, "When we were coronated and ordered to dance, he whispered to me," his voice was now shaky, almost close to breaking. It made Santana want to pat his arm, but she had a feeling that sympathy is the last thing he wanted right now. They may be more alike than she'd thought in the beginning she realized with a pang. "He said 'Now's your chance. Come out, make a difference'."

She could picture perfectly how the words must have frozen Dave to his core, but tried to shrug it off with nonchalance. "Please, as if one dance with a dude would have made you wave a rainbow flag over your head." Her voice wavered ever so slightly, they both knew she was playing it cool. Finally Dave met her eyes. "I panicked you know. Maybe I could have played it down, but in that moment I panicked. There was Kurt's hopeful face and I just... I said 'I can't' and ran."

A dry, humourless laugh ripped itself from Santana's throat, as the sentence hit a little too close to home. Now that was a phrase she could remember all too well.

'I can't.'

Two simply words, yet they were all it took to break hearts and dash hopes. Dave looked at her as if she was mad for laughing at something so unfunny.

"Believe me," she said, "I know the feeling." She thought back how she had let Brittany down for Fondue for Two because she was such a wimp, cursing herself for ruining such a perfect opportunity. But then, when Santana had been almost sure Brittany would go back to Artie, at least for prom her girl had proudly announced to the whole glee club, she'd be going on her own, she'd been so relieved.

It was this part of her memory, which made Santana reach out, putting a hand on Dave's arm pressing gently. "There'll be more chances in the future, don't worry," she assured him. If such a cowardly bitch such as she herself could be given more chances, Santana was sure it would apply to others as well. Dave stared at her hand for the longest time, torn between wanting to believe her and brushing her off. Then finally he covered her hand with his one, squeezing it in a mutual thank you.

It was seriously about to get too mushy, so Santana drew back. "Are you gonna drive me home now, or what? I'm freezing my ass off here," she demanded, back to mock-bitching again. In response he curled his lips up into wry grin and rose, when Santana started to strut off towards the stairs. Quickly he followed her and when he caught up, he dumped his jacket over her bare shoulders without comment.