AN:This story is based off of the song "Its all coming back to me now" by Celine Dion. I know its sung by Rachel in the Nationals episode but Brittana is my OTP and I thought it fit them perfectly. This story is cannon up to 4x04 'The Break-Up'. I don't have a beta so please excuse the grammar errors.
Bold Italics are the lyrics.

I jogged down the trail in Central Park, sweat rolling down my back and making my clothes stick to my body in a way I was familiar with. Being a dancer I had to stay in the best shape I could and I loved the feeling of my muscles straining and burning. After graduating from MIT, I moved to New York and signed a contract with a dance company where I now teach and occasionally tour. I was lost in my own thoughts of song lyrics and complicated dance moves that I didn't see the other woman until I ran right into her.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry. I was distracted and didn't see you there. I'm sorry." I apologized and bent down to help the other girl up.

"Oh Geezz! You idiot watch where you're go-" the girl stopped mid-sentence. "Brittany is that you."

I straightened out and looked at the girl in surprise. "Sa… Santana?"

We're now in a nearby café sitting in a table in silence, neither one of us quite believing that the other was there in front of them after so many years.

"How… how have you been Britt? It's been a while since we last talked." Santana started.

"I've been ok. I'm working at a dance studio in the city, nothing special going on." I answered without taking my eyes off of her. "How about you? What have you been doing?"

"I moved here after the um… after the breakup." She dropped her eyes to the table not being able to look me in the eye anymore. "I roomed with Rachel and Kurt for a while but moved out when I had enough money. There's only so much crazy I can take," she answered with a small smile. "I got a scholarship and went back to school at NYU in their Recorded Music program and now I'm working at a recording studio and do a little bit of singing."

"I can't … I can't do this," I grabbed my purse and started to stand up and walk away but Santana grabbed my wrist to stop me; I refused to turn around and look at her.

"No wait please. Please don't leave. I… I've missed you. I made a mistake but please give me another chance. If not to win you back then at least to be your friend again." She looked down again but didn't let go of my wrist. " I need you," she whispered, almost to soft for anyone to hear; but I did hear. I shut my eyes in an attempt to will the tears away. I felt something being pressed into my palm and fisted my hands against it. With a hard pull I tugged my wrist away from Santana and walked out of the café, a napkin with her number tightly fisted in my palm.

I was sitting cross-legged in the living room of my studio apartment. I was dressed in sweats and an oversized MIT hoodie, my feet clad in comfy fluffy socks and hair up in a messy bun. I was holding a glass of wine and a nearly empty bottle was on the coffee table next to my phone; in the other hand I have the napkin with Santana's number. This had been happening every night for the past week. I would sit there and debate whether I should call Santana or not. Every time I thought I was ready to call I would reach for my phone but at the last minute would just grab the wine bottle instead. So I would sit there all night having a staring contest with my phone until I got sufficiently tipsy and went to bed.

I was tired of this internal battle my thoughts and feeling were having. I missed Santana; I couldn't deny that. The girl had been my best friend and companion for so long. We had been practically attached at the hip ever since we were five. Santana had always been there for me to help me, defend me, listen to my problems, or to lend a strong shoulder for me to cry on. I loved Santana; there was nothing I could do about it.

But every time I reached for the phone I'd remember how I felt after Santana left and broke my heart. Those had been without a doubt the worst years of my life. I had been so lost and alone without her. And it wasn't that was dependent on Santana to tell me what to do or anything. No, it was that a constant presence of life had been forcefully removed without my consent and I didn't know what to do without her.

The first weeks after Santana walked out of my life had been the worst. I couldn't stop crying or get out of bed. One by one my friends had stopped trying to cheer me up, and just waited for me to get better. I'd lie in bed just remembering everything about Santana with a constant stream of tears from my eyes, muttering, "she's gone, she's gone," over and over again.

After a couple of weeks I was able to get out of bed and continue with my life, if you can even call it that. I had been more like a walking zombie. The life had been drained out of me; my electric blue eyes were now a dull blue color.

It had taken some time but eventually I was able to get my life back on track, and just in time to get accepted into MIT. When I first went to MIT I had thrown myself into my work. Hoping that complicated math equations and formulas would fill in the gaping hole in my chest that Santana had left behind. But no amount of work could distract me. It wasn't until I stumbled into a dance studio and fell into step with the other dancers that I forgot about Santana, if only for a few minutes. Soon after that I declared Dance my second mayor. Slowly but surely I found my rhythm again and Santana's name no longer hurt.

But now she was back and the only thing that I could think of was how much I had missed her. So before I had time to psych myself out again I grabbed the phone, dialed the number on the napkin, and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" A raspy voice answered from the other end and I couldn't help but gasp at the familiar sound of it. "Who is this? And why the hell are you calling at this hour?!"

"H…hi Santana. It's Brittany." And just like that everything was all right with the world; or at least headed in that direction.

We had decided to meet up again in a small bar where we could have a pleasant conversation without the heavy thump of a bass and where we could get enough drinks to drown the emotions that would more than likely rise up from the both of us being together again.

I took a deep breath before entering the dimly lit bar. I looked around for Santana and quickly found her sitting at the bar. I walked up towards her and sat down in the stool next to her and gave her a small timid smile. "Hi," I muttered.

"Hey yourself," Santana answered coolly, obviously having taking several shots of liquid courage. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"I'm glad I came too," I replied.

We spent the next couple of hours catching up. Talking about everything and anything, both of us just glad that we could talk to each other again. It wasn't until we were 3/4ths of the way through a bottle of whiskey that the brake up came up; and by that point we were both drunk enough that it didn't hurt to bring it up.

"Why did you do it Santana? I was willing to do the long distance while you were at school. And you said you'd wait for me to graduate and meet you there. We both promised to not cheat and you said there was no one else. What changed?"

Santana looked down at her glass looking ashamed. She set her glass down on the bar and hid her face in her hands. She took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh before ordering a glass of water from the bartender; if they were going to have this conversation she at least wanted to be sober enough to remember it. "I know what I said Brittany, and trust me that hurts me more than you think. But I was keeping a much bigger and important promise by breaking those two."

"I don't understand what are you talking about Santana. What could have possibly been more important than our happiness?" I responded. "You had promised me. We had a deal, a plan. Our whole lives were planned out. So please enlighten me as to what was more important."

"Your well-being," Santana answered easily. "That's what was more important to me. It always has been, even now."

"What?" I asked, clearly confused. I waved down the bartender and asked for a glass of water too, I didn't want the alcohol in my system to blur my mind while we were having this conversation. I wanted… no needed, to understand.

"After we started dating, your dad took me aside and talked to me; the typical 'now that your dating my daughter' talk you know. But instead of threatening me with bodily harm, he asked me to do what was best for you, to put your well-being before mine. Apparently he had herd you crying at night when I was being a dumbass and dating Sam or Krarofsky or whoever it was I was with at the time, he had herd your fights with Artie and saw how he treated you sometimes, and saw how you played the dumb blonde airhead to sleep around. So I promised to always think of you first and do what was best for you. And that became my number one priority in life; to do what was best for you," Santana explained. "My plan was to go to Louisville and start building a life for us. Take my classes, find a major, get a job, and start saving money. I was even starting to look into transferring to whatever college you would eventually get into. But half way through the semester everything started going wrong. I was failing most, if not all, of my classes and with cheer I couldn't even talk to you to keep my spirits up. Eventually I lost the scholarship and dropped out. I felt like such a failure. How was I suppose to support you and raise a family and buy you the diamond ring you deserve if I can't even finish one semester of college? I knew then I couldn't give you the life we had planned, the life you deserved, so I let you go. You had a better chance of making it on your own than carrying my deadweight behind you," Santana stopped to steady herself and wipe the silent tears that were streaming down her face. "It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I had to. I was a loser, a deadbeat. Working as a dancing waitress and singing at karaoke bars wishing I could be better for you. The only reason I even went back to school was because someone from NYU herd me sing and they decided to give me some of their charity." Santana finished bitterly.

"How dare you," I exclaimed. "How dare you decide what's best for me and want I deserved. I wasn't and am not a child! I can decide for myself. What was best for me was to have my best friend and girlfriend there with me supporting me, not financially but emotionally. What was best for me was to be with you and make decisions TOGETHER and becoming adults TOGETHER. What I deserved is to be happy with whoever I choose to be with; and that was you." I was beyond angry and had enraged tears in my eyes. "But do you know what wasn't the best for me, what I didn't deserve? The nights when the wind was so cold that my body froze in bed if I just listened to it right outside the window because you weren't there to keep me warm anymore. The days when the sun was so cruel that all the tears turned dust and I knew my eyes were drying up forever. I didn't deserve to cry for weeks on end because of something YOU chose for me. But you know what Santana? I got over it. I finished crying in the instant that you left and I can't remember where or when or how. I banished every memory you and I had ever made and pushed all, of the hurt away." I said stepping down from the stool. "I deserved happiness, and I wanted it with you," I said as I walked away.

I made my way through the small crowd in the bar and headed outside. Once I was outside I took a deep breath, wiped my face, and started walking towards the nearest subway station. When I was halfway down the street I felt someone grab her elbow and spin me around. I was about to yell in protest of being manhandled like that but noticed it was Santana.

Santana moved her hands to gently hold my neck and leaned her forehead against mine. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. It was stupid to think I could be without you. Please forgive me. I only wanted what was best for you, and at the time I didn't think that was me. Please I'm begging you, forgive me and let me make everything up to you. Please…" And with that she leaned in further and closed the small distance left between our faces and kissed me as hard as she could. I gasped at the soft touch of Santana's lips against mine but after the initial shock wore off, I kissed her back fully. It had been years since I felt those lips against mine and I just couldn't deny myself that pleasure anymore. And from the moment when our lips touched again, all the memories came flooding back in.

We had somehow managed to move back into a narrow alley and Santana had me pressed against the wall. I was holding her by the waist and was pulling her closer to me. She had her arms around my neck and was kissing me with everything she had. She cautiously poked her tongue out and swiped it across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I gasped a little at the contact but opened up my mouth to her. When our tongues met, neither one of us could contain our moans. Santana pushed her hips harder into mine putting glorious pressure on our covered cores. She detached her lips from mine and started trailing kisses up my jaw and down my neck, until she reached my pulse point where she bit down before soothing the spot over with her tongue and sucked on it. Above her my gasps had turned into panted breaths and little whimpers of pleasure. I was on cloud nine and had given up trying to restrain the sounds I was making.

I knew we shouldn't be doing this. It was way to early and nothing had been resolved between us. I thought I had forgotten about Santana and left all those feeling behind. But when you touch me like this, and you hold me like that I just have to admit that It's all coming back to me. When I touch you like this, and you hold me like that, It's so hard to believe but it's all coming back to me.

There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light. There were things I'd never do again but then they'd always seemed right. There were nights of endless pleasure, It was more than any laws allow. I remember every kiss, every caress. I remember our struggle with our sexuality and the relief of not having to keep it a secret anymore. I remember every forbidden night before then, when we refused to acknowledge our feelings. I remember every rule and law they ever broke; how I knew it was wrong but felt so right and how I'd never do anything like that again. I remember every passion filled night and how we seemed to break the laws of physics and the universe itself with all the love we had for each other.

Santana moved her hands from my neck to my waist and thumbed the edge of my shirt. When I didn't make any move to stop her she slowly moved her hands upwards under my shirt, running her hands softly against the sides of my body. She moved her lips up to my ear and started whispering sweet nothings to me, "You're so soft, so warm. I missed your body; I missed you." I groaned at the words and moved my head to the side to captured her lips in another frivolous kiss.

I knew that if I kiss you like this and if you whisper like thatI wouldn't be able to control myself. It was lost long ago but it's all coming back to me. If you want me like this and if you need me like that; it was dead long ago but it's all coming back to me. It's so hard to resist and it's all coming back to me, I can barely recall but it's all coming back to me now.

With a lot of effort we managed to stop kissing long enough to catch our breaths and decide what our next move was. We decided to go back to my apartment since it was closer and started making our way there. The cool night air was helping me clear my mind from the haze Santana always managed to put me in when kissing her and I was able to think clearly again. "Santana," I started to say, "I don't know is this is the best idea for us. Despite your apologies, you leaving me is the most painful thing I ever had to live through. I made myself so strong again somehow and I never wasted any of my time on you since then. It was impossibly hard to get over you the first time; I don't think I can could it again."

Santana dropped her head down again in shame when hearing how much she had hurt me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders to try and comfort her and she took the opportunity to tuck her head under my chin and start placing soft kisses there. "But if I touch you like this and if you kiss me like that. It was so long ago, but it's all coming back to me. If you touch me like this and if I kiss you like that. It was gone with the wind, but it's all coming back to me now." I didn't get to finish what I was saying because once her tongue make contact with my skin again I was under the haze once again.

We made it back to my apartment all in one piece even without paying much attention to where we were going. We were now in my bedroom, clothes strew all around us, and pressing our bodies close together on the bed. She's on top of me, kissing all over my body, almost as if she's trying to make up for lost time. "Open your eyes baby," she whispers against my skin. "Please open your eyes; I need to see your eyes," she pleaded.

I fight off the immense pleasure coursing through my body and open my eyes to look at her, brown eyes dilated in arousal that they seemed almost black, just as she inserts two fingers into me and starts to move inside of me. When [she] sees me like this and when I see [her] like that, Then we see what we want to see and its all coming back to me. The flesh and the fantasies, all coming back to me. I can barely recall but it's coming back to me now. If you forgive me all this, If I forgive you all that, We forgive and forget, And it's all coming back to me now… And if we…

When I wake up again I'm laying next to Santana, my head tucked under her chin and my ear pressed to her chest.

AN: Im working on a sequel of sorts for this story. it should be up in a couple of days. Thanks for reading.