Okay, okay, I know I need to update After, but I honestly couldn't this time 'round. I had a bunch of shit with the family and I couldn't get out of the house. Like literally, I COULD NOT LEAVE. The way I was being kept inside the house for the whole goddamn month was total shit and should be completely and totally illegal.

Anyway. I'm sorry for not updating After. I'll do it as soon as I can write a chapter worth the work. Until then, I give you a dose of Brittana, which is yes sad, but it's AU, so whatever.

I'm not even sorry.

It's AU, as said before, and it's centered around Santana and Brittany mostly. A little bit of Faberry here and there too, and that's just because Brittana and Faberry are too perfect to not be associated with one another.

Again:

Not even sorry.

I want you guys to enjoy the story, and if I fuck anything up, don't be afraid to yell at my tired and lazy ass in the review section. That or you can PM me. I don't give a damn.

Anyway, enjoy this Brittana dosage.

Leave a review.

Add me or the story. Or both.

I'd prefer both, but again:

Don't give a damn.

Enjoy (for the third time in one Authors Note) and remember:

When in doubt, Fuck Bitches, Get Money.

Love you guys.

Someone to hold you too close…

I walked through the doors, not really feeling the chill of the doors against my fingertips. I haven't felt the… the feeling of much since my mom and dad passed away two years ago; ever since that drunk driver took them away from me.

Tears threatened my eyes as I trudged towards my locker. I didn't notice anyone calling my name as I turned the lock to open my locker. I slowly swung the metallic door open and lazily reached for my textbooks as Quinn appeared out of seemingly nowhere and leaned against the locker adjacent to mine.

"So, Santana," she began slowly, looking towards the sky—um, ceiling. "How was your summer? Good, I hope?" Her voice had a snarky tone to it, and it would've made my stomach turn if I could really feel or be affected by anything at all.

"Fine, how was yours?" My voice was monotone, but everybody had stopped worrying about two months into last year about me. In their minds, I was gone. Hell, in my own mind, I was gone.

"It was—"everything about her demeanor faltered: her "I'm Better than You" smile, her "I Know Everything" eyes, even her HBIC stance. "Santana… have you ever…." She chuckled, but even I noticed that it lacked humor. "Just… never mind. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

She looked at me as if I was her last life boat; her last savior. She sighed, but then continued. "Have you ever… made out with… a girl?" Her voice, barely above a whisper, made a twinge shudder through my body. She was confiding in me the biggest secret of her life, even though it wasn't that big of a secret. A dry chuckle escaped my throat.

"Of course I've made out with a girl, Quinn. Who do think I am? Sister Agnes?" She visibly sank into herself and I stopped in my tracks. "I'm sorry, Quinn," I knew what it was like to sink into myself too much. I knew what it was like to hold too many secrets; too many feelings. I should be happy that she would trust me with something like this. "How-How was it?" I winced at my stutter. I didn't usually stutter, but I didn't usually have to deal with these kinds of things either, mind you.

"It-It was…" she let out a puff of air, "great, actually. It was the best kiss I've ever had." I saw tears swell in her hazel orbs. "What's wrong with me, Santana?" Quinn's face contorted horribly as she tried to stop the tears. "Why do I feel this way?"

I panicked.

"W-Well, Quinn, it isn't anything to be ashamed of. I like kissing girls better than guys too." I stopped for a breath. It shook. "Girls are just… you know, softer and gentler and it's okay to like them more than boys. They relate better to you and they know that a certain time of month comes and makes you want to either shoot somebody fifty-three time in the chest or screw everything in sight." She chuckled slightly through her unshed tears. "They know that you don't like it when they say 'Is it that time of the month' or come to your house smelling like another girl, or even worse, Breadstix's Alfredo." Another chuckle and the nibble of the bottom lip. "They know that you would want to take it slow and respect that." I rested my hand on her arm. "They would know. That's why girls are better than boys; because they know. So it's okay if you like kissing girls better than kissing boys. Truth be told," I leaned in close to her, and she followed suit. "A lot of girls secretly like girls. They just won't admit it. It takes a lot of strength to actually tell someone, Quinn. You're strong." I knew that I rambled, but for Quinn, it was worth it.

"Thanks, Santana," her voice was coated in sincerity, and not even that fake shit she usually tried to pull with people. It was real, honest sincerity. She gestured towards our shared class and we started walking towards it. After a few moments, Quinn's head tilted to the side and her lips pursed. "Wait, you said you liked kissing girls better than boys. Does that mean—"

"So who'd you kiss, Fabray?" Change the subject; change the subject, a voice whispered inside my head. It worked, and Quinn faltered yet again. A whisper escaped her mouth after a few breaths, and I could almost make out a name, but nothing definitive. "Say it again?"

She sighed.

"Rachel Berry."

I stopped, literally.

Quinn made out with Rachel Berry.

Okay, this is okay. This won't ruin everything we had worked to obtain.

"Santana," Quinn started. "Santana, say something, please."

"L-Let's just get to class," I muttered helplessly. I couldn't say anything. Rachel Berry was the bane of our high school existence. She stole Quinn's boyfriend, Finn (and even though I hated the whale blubber ingesting, Sloppy Joe eating, slob of a boy, it was pretty bad), she constantly tried to belittle us by telling us how to correct our voices and dance moves. "We'll talk about it later, yeah?" I rushed off to class, not looking back to check if she was following me.

I entered the classroom within a few moments and did a check of the room. The two-seater desk that most of the classrooms held were set up like they usually were. Cheesy decorations hung on the wall; sombreros, "authentic" Spanish scarves; the works. As a girl from Hispanic descent, I was honestly kind of disgusted with the teacher's apparent lack of knowledge of the Spanish Culture. The class was empty except for one blonde haired girl… sitting… in… my… seat…?

"Um-Um," I stuttered as I took a step into the room. "You're in my… my seat?"

Her head was bowed down, but at my words, her head shot up and I almost fell back at the intensity of her sky-blue eyes. She looked slightly confused at my sudden appearance, as her eyebrows were knitted together. Her head was tilted slightly to the side and she sucked on her bottom lip slightly. Blue eyes flitted up and down my body, obviously checking me out. She wore jeans that literally looked like they were painted on and a skin-tight white shirt under a fitted leather jacket. Her hair was pinned back on one side and straightened to perfection. Her tongue darted out to wet her cherry red lips and something extraordinary happened.

I felt something…

…Butterflies in my stomach.

…Pinpricks in my fingertips.

…The unmistakable catching of my breath.

I felt.

For the first time in two years, I felt.

Then, she spoke.

"Um, well it's the first day of school, right? I didn't think that we had seats yet. I'm sorry though, I'll move." She stood to do so, but I was at her side in a flash.

"No, no," I said quickly. I felt tears pool in my eyes. They weren't entirely bad tears; it was just… when she spoke… a dam inside of me broke, releasing all of my emotions, good and bad. "It's cool. I'll just sit next to you. Mr. Shue won't mind anyway; I'm one of his best singers." Releasing information about myself wasn't usually something I did, but this girl was… special. She was very special indeed.

"You sing?" she asked as she lowered herself to sit down once again and I maneuvered around her to sit down as well. I slid the seat out and slowly sat down, watching the whole time. In the few seconds that held our conversation, she had made me feel. Quinn, Puck… no one has been able to make me feel like this girl did; especially not in just a few moments. "That's cool." She turned to face me and her knee touched mine just slightly. My whole leg tingled and broke out in invisible flames. "I actually dance a lot. I started when I was, like, three and I've been doing it ever since."

"I started singing freshman year, when Mr. Shue started the glee club and my friend Quinn went through a psychotic rage and tried to tear a hobbit to pieces."

Wow, Santana, very smooth. However, the girl didn't miss a beat.

"You must have a pretty voice. I mean, if it's anything like your speaking voice, it's gotta be pretty amazing." Wait, was she flirting with me?

My cheeks burned with a blush and my mouth fell agape. I then seized control of it again and slammed it shut before quietly nodding. What was wrong with me? Usually when Puck flirted with me I would flirt with him right back, no problem. But when it came to this girl, I could only sit there and gape at her words.

"Um, thanks," I muttered as I looked down at my knees. "You… um, have pretty… eyes." I trailed off in embarrassment at my lack of eloquence and felt my face blush even harder.

She chuckled.

The girl chuckled.

"You're absolutely adorable, you know that?" she said after her laughter died down. "Really, really adorable." A comfortable silence overtook us, but the girl just kept staring at me. "Oh," she looked as if she just remembered something. "My name's Brittany, by the way." She extended a long-fingered hand towards me and I finally looked up and saw that her stunning, sky blue eyes were trained solely on my face; they traced every one of my features like they were etching them into memory.

"Santana," I whispered as my hand reached for hers. "It's nice to meet you.

Okay, having one of the prettiest girls ever constantly be "accidentally" rubbing her knee against mine through the whole entire Spanish class was absolutely not on my Top Ten Things to Happen on The First Day of School. I wasn't complaining (at all), it's just weird to have a girl—one you just met, mind you—constantly rub her leg on you. Every time she did, she would look at me, smile like she had the greatest secret in the world, apologize with a flirtatious smile and face the front of the class with a smug look on her face. Rinse and repeat.

By the end of the class, Brittany had me hanging out on a limb and prepared to jump her in the hallway. As the bell rung, signaling the end of class, and everyone stood up to leave, Brittany stayed where she was. I stood to leave, but when I noticed that Brittany hadn't even made to stand, I stopped.

"Brittany?" I asked with slight concern, though I kept it well hidden. "You okay?"

This seemed to tear her from her stupor as she jumped a little in her chair and looked to me, her electric blue eyes wide and her body looking tense. "Ah, sorry, I guess I was just in my own little world." She smiled wide and I couldn't help but return it. "What do you have next?"

I reached into the front pocket of my red Cheerios backpack and grabbed my schedule. Looking at it, I saw the horrid, hand-written words: 'Biology, Room 928, with Ms. Holiday.'

"Um, I have biology in room 928, you?" She smiled knowingly, though I have no idea how she 'knowingly' did so.

"Same," she grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the room. Now, I have never been much of a hand-holder, and Brittany must have noticed that somehow, and let go, only to grab onto my pinky soon after. Strangely enough though, I didn't mind it that much when it was her holding my hand…or linking pinkies for that matter, apparently.

We walked to class like that; pinky molded together, our bodies relatively close, my cheeks flushed almost red (which is really, really hard considering my ethnicity) and a smug smile upon Brittany's lips.

"So, um, you're a dancer?" I asked with a blush still apparent on my cheeks. I didn't look at her because then she would definitely see my flushed face.

"Yup, since I was three or so." She never looked at me, not since we left the classroom. After a while, the bell that started the next class rung and we were alone in the hallways. I hadn't even noticed that the hallway was crowded, much less emptied. I really needed to learn to be more observant.

"Um…" I began, but Brittany already knew where I was going with it.

"I forgot." She bought up her free hand and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. She turned to look at me for the first time since we started towards the Biology room and got really close to my face. We were breathing each other's air and looking deep into each other's eyes. I had only just met this girl. I knew nothing about her except that her name was Brittany and she had been dancing since she was three. Other than that, this amazingly sexy-beautiful blonde was a complete and total mystery to me. All that considering, it should've been impossible for her to make me feel things I hadn't since my parents' crash; butterflies, tingles… happiness. It was utterly amazing. It was dumbfounding and exciting and hot and beautiful and god, I usually ran away from people like that since two years ago. People who made me feel were people who had too much power over me, but with her—no, Brittany, it was too easy. She could take everything I could give her and then throw me out to the sharks when she was done, but I would never hate or blame her. Wow.

Brittany leaned further towards me, and I almost thought that she was going to kiss me, but what she did instead was so, so much worse.

She brought her mouth to my ear, kissed it slightly—so slightly, I didn't think I actually felt it, but it just so happens that it wasn't a dream, she actually did kiss my ear—and whispered slowly into it. "I don't know where Room 928 is; this is my first year here, you see."

I couldn't process what she had said.

I couldn't really process anything since she invaded my personal space.

When she kissed my ear?

Hell, I might as well have been on the floor passed out.

Or I might've been dead. Whichever works well enough for me.

My knees wobbled. Brittany noticed and wrapped her (surprisingly strong) arm around my waist which, no, did not help my situation at all. Her face was so close to my face, her never even closer. My senses were filled to the brim—if not overflowing—with pure, sincere, honest Brittany.

I smelled her vanilla-honey perfume.

I heard her slightly heaving breathing.

I saw the hairs on her neck stand up ever-so-slightly.

I felt her body heat wrap me in it and hold me.

I felt the knot in my stomach get tighter.

I felt my knees give out that much more.

I felt her chest extend with a breath and heard a slight moan as she caught my scent.

I heard her whisper my name.

I shivered at the feeling of her tongue on my neck, dotting its way up my jawline, up along my chin and slowly tracing my lips.

My arms instantly grabbed her waist and pulled her closer into me. She swiveled us around and pressed me softly into a locker. My eyes were closed the whole time this was occurring, but when I felt the chill of an unused locker press against the back of my arms and legs, they shot open and found lightening-blue orbs trained on them. Her cherry red lips were apart and twitching slightly, and I knew that they were begging to be kissed.

"Then kiss me, Santana." She whispered with her eyes still glued to mine. My lips parted slightly as I stretched up to my tippy toes and looped my hands around her neck. I brought my lips to the corner of her mouth and kissed the area chastely. A groan escaped from her barely closed mouth and she turned to try and connect our lips, but I turned away just in time. "Ninja Santana," she whispered against my cheek. I looked at her again and pressed the side of my nose to hers, taking care that our lips didn't touch.

"You hardly even know me," I whispered as I let my thumbs gently stroke the back of her neck. She wrapped her arms around my middle and squeezed, bringing our bodies impossibly closer. "All you know is that I sing and my name."

"Wrong," she stated plainly as she tried to press her lips to mine again and failing again. "I also know that you're a cheerleader, you haven't been able to keep your mind off of me since you walked into that Spanish room, you hate the decorations in the room and you don't have to take the class, but for some strange reason, you did." She moved to press our lips together after many attempts and I moaned quietly at the simple feel of it. It was so, so much softer than Puck's or Finn's or anybody's, girl or boy. It was like here lips were made of clouds and marshmallows and-and… air. I felt her chuckle as my arms clenched tighter and I pressed my lips harder to hers. Brittany groaned as the pressure increased to being almost painful. Our mouths both opened at the same time, like we had planned it and when our tongues touched, I almost thought that I would explode right there. It was like being shot out like a firework up into space, being caught my a jet plane, carried all around the world, being dropped into the arctic ocean, going at such a high velocity and speed that you went straight through it and shot straight through the ground into the center of the Earth, came out the other side and being shot into the sky like a firework. Every time our tongues stopped touching and then made contact again, it happened all over again. Coincidentally, our tongues touched a lot.

When I say 'a lot', I mean a lot. 'A lot' like we had kissed until the bell rung and people filed out to get to their respective places. We hesitantly broke apart and looked at each other. Only inches apart, we could still smell each other's perfume, breathe in each other's stale breath and see the glistening shine on each other's lips.

"We missed a whole class," I said, breathless and panting.

"Worth it, don't you think—"

"Santana," someone shouted. I turned and saw Quinn approaching with her standard HBIC pose and walk. "Where in the hell were you second period?" she sounded offended more than worried or anything else. She barely even glanced at Brittany as she split us apart with her body, leading with her hip. She faced me and glared and Brittany, being taller than Quinn by a few inches, made faces behind her back. I stifled a laugh, but only just barely.

"Um," I started, my voice shaking at Brittany's childish behavior, "I had to go to the office and get something worked out." She leaned in closer to whisper in my ear.

"Then what's she doing here?"

"Oh, we were just talking. I guess we just lost control of the time. Sorry, Quinn," she scoffed quietly but accepted the answer, though a bit hesitantly.

"Whatever, c'mon, we're gonna be late for lunch." She took hold of my hand and dragged me toward the cafeteria and I twisted around to say a final word to Brittany, but she was nowhere to be found.

God, this girl is so…

I hope you guys liked it and if you didn't, I'm sorry you wasted all of your time reading my shit sack of a fic.

Again, Love you guys, review and follow and favorite.

-T