It fits perfectly.
And the color. Incredible.
Santana puts the jacket back on the rack and wanders around Outerwear, touching a few items, pulling out one or two, maybe trying them on. Catching sight of the security cameras out of the corners of her eyes, she tracks, indirectly, the blue leather jacket. Nobody else here has touched it yet.
She tries on a black one and leaves it on for a few minutes as she browses several other coats on the rack. Then she puts it back.
She moves on.
Five cameras in the department. Five more that she can see on the floor. Two visible rent-a-cops.
She really must have that jacket. It's the blue of Brittany's eyes. The fit is like Brittany wrapped all around her.
And that's all of Brittany she's getting, for a while, anyway.
She returns to Outerwear, picks two other jackets, then as if on a whim, grabs the blue one. This is where she works her magic. When she leaves this place, nobody will notice that she's kept one.
She begins to head for the exit, the way she does, so as not to attract security attention. That's when she sees Brittany.
Brittany is in Lingerie.
Which is not to say wearing it. Well, not visibly.
Their eyes meet.
Brittany's open smile and eyes feel like love. Santana does her best to return them, even though she misses her already. Brittany crosses over to her, hugs her, looks her in the eye, and pats her pointedly, right in the jacket. The brazenly visibly worn jacket.
"Be safe out there," she says.
Habits resist change, but Santana wills herself to let go. In that moment, it's clear: she needs to come by what she wants honestly.
Santana reverses her magic. She steps up.
She pays for the jacket.