Fandom: Glee
Ship: Brittana
Summary: A simply text message changed a whole lot of things. After barely speaking to one another, Santana texts Brittany to meet up at Breadstix, like they used to.
Author's note: This is pretty much simple copy/paste from my roleplay on tumblr. I roleplay as Brittany and a friend as Santana, and our roleplay is pretty much how I think what should have happened after Blame it on the Alcohol, and Sexy should've never happened. If you want to pretty much check up on the roleplay BEFORE the fic is updated you can go here: .com
Ratings: M! Definite a big fat M for future chapters, who have already been written out but I will wait to post.

Chapter 1

Text: Hey B, I'm thinking 'bout hitting up BreadstiX tonight. Thought maybe you could show me how you've been practicing pushing meatballs across the plate with your nose?
S xxx

Text: Oh my god! I think I finally found my phone.. It was under my pillow. I can totally show how awesome that is. But how am I getting there?

Brittany.

Text: I'm glad you found it Britt. Try and keep track of it this time!
How bout I pick you up in 20mins?

Text: I know.. But I changed my ringtone to ke$ha, so I won't forget it.
Wow…yeah totally.

Santana smiled to herself when she saw Brittany's reply. Things had been weird between them ever since she had freaked out that day in Brittany's room when the blonde had suggested that they sing together. Hopefully by taking her to BreadstiX, Santana could convince Britt that she hadn't meant what she'd said and that she still wanted to be friends. "Friends. Best friends. But nothing more." Santana muttered to herself.

Ten minutes later, most of Santana's wardrobe was on the floor. She knew she would look hot in whatever she wore but something inside her told her that it was important that everything was perfect. Nothing was the same with Brittany all over Wheels. She needed her best friend back more than she needed anything else.

Eventually settling on the dress that Brittany loved and her leather jacket, Santana jumped in her car and headed over to Brittany's, nervousness slowly building up in her stomach.

Putting her phone on her nightstand, the blonde made sure to remember where she had put it. After once again jumping in the shower, a pure habit after being a Cheerio for years, Brittany decided to let her hair dry naturally, most likely doing some cool epilepsy afterwards to get it dry quicker and walked to her bedroom. Opening her closet, a puzzled look formed on the blonde her face, her eyes scanning the stacks of clothes intently. Finally setting on a pair of shorts with the pockets that were lightly visible at the bottom and a small oversized shirt, she walked back into the bathroom getting dressed. Looking at herself in the mirror she frowned lightly before removing her shirt and tossing it in a pile on the floor. "I don't want to look like Ke$ha…" she spoke to herself in the mirror before walking back in her room and pulling out a white wife - beater which clearly gave her a different look instantly.

Letting her hands run through her hair once back in the bathroom, she started to swing her head back and forth which caused her hair to dry much quicker than usual. "It's like really cool epilepsy." She had stated during Glee Club. Looking in the mirror more closely, she applied a small amount of mascara and slight bit a blush, something she would've never pulled off when she was still a Cheerio, and walked back to her bedroom pulling on her black boots. Slipping into the leather jacket that clearly wouldn't have matched if she had worn her brown boots, she walked downstairs making sure to have grabbed her phone in the process.

Santana was early which was unusual for her. She liked to keep people waiting. But Brittany wasn't just people. Resting her forehead on the steering wheel, Santana took a few deep breaths, everything had to go perfectly.

Getting out of her car and locking it, she headed up the path to Brittany's quaint, two-storey house. "It'll be ok. It's Brittany." she whispered, trying to calm herself down. Checking her phone again, she saw that she was still early. Perhaps Brittany would notice. She knew that Santana's policy was to always be later, no matter what. Maybe she'd realize just how much she meant to the Latina.

Santana tentatively pushed the doorbell. This was it.

/ TADA, Chapter one is done. Like I said, this was already a written part in our roleplay, I simply copy pasted it. That's how proud I am of my Britt and San 3