A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I woke up from a nap and it just hit me, and I wrote it out in about an hour's time. I think it spawned from the spoiler we got that Santana was a lesbian... Without getting too much into my own personal beliefs, I think that's a crying shame they decided to shove her into a neatly labeled box, especially after what was said in "Sexy". Then with the promo for the "Born This Way" episode and the shirt deal, it just kind of struck me hard. Anyhoo so that's kind of where this came from I guess now that I sat here and thought about it haha.

Let me know what you think!

I feel the need to add that in no way is any of this meant to bash anybody of any orientation whatsoever. And I hope when you finish reading the story you don't get that sort of impression at all, but I figure I better say it. ;) Some people be cray cray.

The word lesbian had never sat well with Santana.

It wasn't that she didn't have feelings for girls; she couldn't deny that any longer, not after the past couple of weeks, starting with that damn Stevie Nicks song. She had questiond herself for a long time, years even, wondering if everyone got the same rush as she did when looking over at a girl and noticing the subtle rise of her chest, or the delightful pout of her lips, or the way her flaxen hair shown in the light... Surely that was normal. As she'd aged and had come to enter high school, she soon learned it wasn't. Every girl didn't see the same things she did when taking in someone of the same sex. The first few weeks of freshman year she spent listening to Quinn rave about boys and her fellow female classmates doing the same. When she joined Cheerios and noted other girls' strong suits for them, not always their looks but sometimes, she recieved odd looks for what she thought were nice compliments (yes, once upon a time she did give compliments; she could have even been viewed as nice). That was when Quinn had taken her aside and told her to stop acting like a lesbian and recommended she get a boyfriend to focus her attentions on.

Santana had listened, and quickly realized boys weren't all that bad either. Not as pretty as girls, but as she found out after a few too many beers at her first party with Noah Puckerman, guys had some good things going for them, too. She enjoyed her soon numerable forays with boys, though she never stopped admiring her female peers from afar.

Then came cheer camp between Freshman and Sophomore year. That was when Brittany had first moved to Lima, and her parents had gotten her enrolled in the Cheerios summer program. Something about the blonde had set Santana off automatically, and even though she had a boyfriend at the time, she did not resist the temptation to flirt discreetly with the lithe girl, thinking that it would be rewarded with maybe a roll of those pretty blue eyes or an embarrassed giggle as she tried to push off whatever praise Santana chose to offer.

To her surprise, Brittany had grinned widely, said a simple thank you, and grabbed Santana's pinky with her own, linking the two together. With nothing further said, an unspoken bond was immediately formed. The two because best friends over the length of the camp, and the day before it ended, in a tangle of limbs and sweat hidden in the woods after curfew, something more.

Like their friendship, nothing was said of this new developement, and each girl continued on as if there were no need to verbalize what had happened or what continued to happen, even as they entered McKinley High as Sophomores that August.

They were discreet of course, and each girl had their other agendas, Brittany even more prolific than Santana when it came to sex with boys and, she found later, girls as well. Santana dated Puck off and on while Brittany had a never ending stream of boys through her bed, but still, in the end, the two always gravitated towards each other. Eventually it became obvious (but yet again unspoken) that there was definitely something different about it when they were together. Different, better, more meaningful, even, if they thought about it. Which Santana didn't, and in fact Brittany almost never did. Santana ignored her or gave her an odd excuse the handful of times the blonde had brought it up (like the one time she'd said she was like a lizard, or the other time she'd said she was just a big fan of cats).

Of course, she still had Quinn at the back of her mind, telling her to quit being a lesbian. Being with Brittany would mean she was one, and she simply wasn't. She hadn't lied when she'd told Ms. Holliday that she was attracted to guys and girls. That was still very much true, even when she ached for Brittany's touch or the heft of the blonde's breast in her hand. She also knew what would happen if she decided to truly act on her feelings for Brittany; she'd seen it happen to Kurt and no way was anyone throwing her around or threatening her life just because of who she chose to date.

In the end, Santana had played down their relationship to the extreme, and that's what destroyed them. When she finally realized her true feelings for Brittany, what it meant for her, and gotten over her fear of at least admitting how she felt to the blonde, it was too late. Brittany was with Artie. She loved her, and she was with a boy. And it was her fault, she knew that, for admitting what they'd both known was true from that first pinky link at cheer camp too late. It killed Santana inside to be rejected by the one person she'd truly cared for, and she'd rushed back to completely hetero-land and into Sam Evan's arms, even though she had no desire to be there.

Eventually, it ate away at her enough she decided it was time to try again, dumping Sam non-so-gently, and for good this time. Even if this last desperate measure wouldn't win her rightful place in Brittany's heart back, she was done messing with him. He was nice, maybe even too nice, but he wasn't the blonde she wanted.

So here she was, with her grand gesture plastered across the white T-shirt they'd been assigned to decorate with a word or phrase that defined the stereotype people tried to put on them. It was an odd idea, even for Mr. Schue, but after a few hours of thought, brilliance struck her, and suddenly it became clear in her mind how she could both do this assignment and try and win Brittany back, for good.

In bold black lettering, the word LESBIAN was printed clearly across her chest. She sat there in Glee Club with the others looking at her oddly, their own shirts forgotten as they tried to decipher what in the hell Santana's meant. Brittany had also seen though she hadn't said anything, her face confused from what Santana could see from her periphereal vision. She decided she wasn't going to look at her, not yet.

Puck was the first to say anything out loud, turning around in his seat to face Santana, leaning in and furrowing his brow at her.

"Did I do this to you?" he asked, and by his tone she knew he was completely serious. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, deciding not to warrant that with a response. Lauren looked at her with a worried expression and looked between the two in a panicky manner.

"Uh, did he, because I need to know if that swizzle stick is turning penis loving girls into vagetarians."
Santana's eyes would have widened in shock had the word "vagetarian" not made her think a little harder than normal. She huffed and flipped her hair casually, another roll of her eyes in Lauren's direction now.

"No, Puck didn't do anything."

"So are you in fact sapphic?" Rachel inquired, in that too-interested way Santana was actually quite used to by now.

"Do you in fact go around calling yourself..." Santana scanned Rachel's shirt, fighting a scoff at the phrase written on the tiny songstress's front, ""Jew Nose"?" Santana asked, pointing at the words. Rachel frowned, looking down at it and pursing her lips together.

"No, I suppose I don't."

"Then what the hell does it mean?" Mercedes asked, staring at Santana as if she were an entirely different person. Quinn, who was sitting beside her, was also giving Santana an odd look, a single eyebrow risen in suspect at her once close friend.

"Yes, Santana, what does it mean?" Quinn's voice had a hint of disdain to it, though she was perfectly aware of her and Brittany's relationship and it's woes, as by now so was the entire Glee Club.

"It means I'm not going to let you all label me one way just because I love Brittany."

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room, or from everyone except Brittany, who was staring at Santana with wide eyes. Santana took advantage of the shocked silence, looking at Brittany right in the eye as she continued on.

"I know you're surprised to hear me actually say it out loud, in front of people. I kind of am, too, actually." There was a flicker of something in Brittany's eyes, something Santana couldn't place. She didn't look away, holding her gaze with intensity she hoped the blonde could feel despite the few yards seperating them. "But I love you. And that's not going to change or go away just because you're with him." She could feel the shift in the room as people looked at Artie for a few seconds, some pityingly, some confused, a couple a little triumphantly.

"And because I love you doesn't mean I'm a lesbian. There's more to my sexuality than what can be labeled as black and white, gay or straight. More to mine, more to yours..." She took a second to glance around at her teammates. "And yours, too." Sam did a fist pump, but the others just sat there in awe, having no idea Santana thought anything like this, for which she didn't blame them. Her persona and the way she acted did not exactly lend itself to imparting the idea she had these values on the people who knew her, and in fact it wasn't until recently she'd adopted this way of thought, after many sleepless nights.

"I don't care what gender turns me on, which doesn't, because that's not what matters. What matters is who I love." Now she looked back at Brittany, a little shocked at herself for what she had said. She hadn't really planned this part out, but now that the words were flowing, she couldn't stop.

"I don't love you because you're a girl. I love you because you're Brittany."

Brittany bit her lip, a nervous twitching of her foot having started a few seconds before, out of nervousness or what Santana wasn't sure. There was another flicker of that something Santana couldn't place, but for some reason it encouraged her to go on. Santana smiled at her softly, her voice going lower as she spoke from her heart, something she wished she could have done a hell of a lot sooner.

"I love you because no one makes me feel the way you do, no one makes me feel as safe or at home as you do. I love you because you've always taken me as I am and understood me, even when I wasn't exactly a good person, or even good to you." She felt a slight pang in her chest as she realized how true that was; even when Santana pushed Brittany away, she still came back to her. Just not this last time, not when it had mattered so much. "I love you because even though you hurt me, I know you're the only way I can be truly happy. Because I love you more than I thought I could ever love anybody, more than myself."

She hadn't realized that she'd been crying until now, when Brittany came over to her side and wiped her tears away, smiling at her. Santana sniffed and chuckled, stilling Brittany's hand on her face with her own, holding it in place on her cheek.

"It doesn't hurt that you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen, either."

At this Brittany blushed and her smile widened, embolding Santana even more as her heart soared, her plan seemed to be working.

"That doesn't make me a lesbian. It doesn't make me anything other than a girl who loves you, Brittany Susan Pierce."