(Written for Brittana Week, Day 2: Troubletones)
(Another enormous giant thank you to Muriel!)
Santana can't remember the last time August was comfortable. Lima was always blistering, asphalt softening, air so still and humid that going from inside to outside felt like walking into a wall. New York was New York and would never be anything but; August there meant anybody with the means would flee. Sure, farther inland it got crazy hot, and sometimes the Santa Ana winds could make her head pound, but here in Venice, she had breeze, blue skies, and Brittany.
Last August had been crazy. Last June, last July; all crazy. They'd go out on the roof, in full sun, the stink of the garbage strike sitting on top of them, simply because there was the possibility of breeze, which there wasn't inside. Finally, Brittany had brought home a window air conditioner, and the summer-long sniping had ceased.
And then Mercedes' call. Troubletones. LA. ASAP. Breeze, blue skies, Brittany. Audiences. Performances. A pool. Daily sun sealed the deal.
They'd given notice almost immediately, wanting to leave before winter set in, loving fall in New York, but knowing fall lasts so much longer and never really dips into winter in Southern California.
Sometimes Brittany misses the snow. Santana gets that, remembering secretly kissing Brittany at Big Bob's Magical Christmas Tree Wonderland, snow floating all around them, catching twinklelight, wintry fireflies. But snow, while beautiful, is cold, and LA, well, LA is comfortable.
Poolside, Brittany's pinky seeks, finds, and locks onto Santana's, without either of them even opening their eyes. Brittany's pinky squeezes hers, then she turns over and shuffles her fingers into Santana's. Santana finds herself gazing at her, at the one she loves the most. How did she get so incredibly lucky? Even when she didn't know what she wanted, she knew she wanted to be with Brittany. What continually surprises her is that Brittany is so hers, after everything.
Her phone alarm reminds her they have to leave for rehearsal shortly. Five minutes later Sugar shouts down from their window. Brittany rouses, lifts her head, looks into Santana's eyes, and drapes herself on top of her. Santana bursts out laughing and melts into her.
Suddenly the weight doubles.
Sugar, laughing, crushes into them. It takes Santana a moment to catch her breath, but it's fun and funny and… oddly comfortable.
It's not until Mercedes bellows from the window that all three of them get their asses inside to get ready for the best part of their day.