My Very Own Santana Claus
(alternative title: How Artie Nearly Stole Christmas And Santana Took It Back)
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A/N: merry christmas everyone! have some brittana! (also faberry) Emily x
P.S. That awkward moment when whenever you want to type Santa you keep typing Santana. I do it with Brittany too, I always type brittana :L
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Ryan Murphey the troll-extraordinare. Please don't sue me! 'o'
MAX IS SANTANA'S DOG!
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Brittany had a huge grin on her face as she walked into the last Glee rehearsal of the year, admiring the tree as she went. She positively beamed as she sat down in her usual seat next to Santana.
"It's nearly Christmas, San!" She bounced up and down in her chair, giddy with excitement.
"I know, B! Are you excited?" Santana replied, taking Brittany's hand and giving her a peck on her cheek. Brittany's face flushed pink.
"Of course I am silly! In less than a week Santa's gonna be here!"
"Wait, you still believe in Santa?" Finn asked in disbelief, turning round in his seat to look at the blonde cheerleader, not noticing the death glares from Santana, Quinn and Rachel.
"I don't believe in Santa, everyone knows he's real." Brittany deadpanned, confused by Finn's question.
"Brittany, this is getting ridiculous. Don't you think the idea of a man who lives at the North Pole, delivers toys on a sleigh led by flying reindeer and slides down people's chimneys is just slightly unfeasible?" Artie added to the conversation.
"Yes, to you and I, but he's special; he's magical. He's Santa!"
"For God's sake Brittany!" The whole Glee club turned to look at Artie, surprised by his sudden outburst, "Santa is NOT REAL! GROW UP! If you went to the North Pole, all you'd find is some snow, some ice and the occasional polar bear! Reindeer don't fly or have bright red noses, elves don't make your Christmas presents and fucking Santa Claus does not EXIST!"
"Hey, not cool dude." Puck said, getting up from his seat next to Mike and standing next to Santana. The Latina herself was seething,
"Bastardo…" She leapt up, only to be held back by Puck, Sam and Mike.
"He's not worth it, Santana!" Rachel yelled over Santana's fluid string of Spanish curses and insults. Brittany, who still remained in her seat, was stunned into silence. As tears threatened to spill, her body jolted into life and she ran out of the room, desperately trying to reach the bathroom before she cried. Santana went limp in the boys' arms,
"Let me go, guys." She said dejectedly, watching the retreating figure of her girlfriend. Puck, Mike and Sam looked at each other before releasing their hold on the Latina. The girl immediately ran after the blonde.
"This isn't over, Wheels." Quinn said through gritted teeth, returning to her seat just as Mr. Shue walked into the choir room.
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"Britt?" Santana called out tentatively, hearing sobs from the only locked stall in the girls' bathroom. "Baby, it's me. Can you open the door? Please?" She heard the metal lock sliding free and, as the door swung open slowly, Santana could have sworn her heart broke in two. The blonde's usually sparking eyes were red and puffy, her mascara was smeared down her face and her nose was red too from too much blowing. Santana stepped into the stall and locked the door behind her. She scooped Brittany up into her arms and slid down the door, sitting on the cool tiles and gently rocking her girlfriend as she cried, whispering soothing words into her ear and rubbing her back. They stayed like that for a while, until Brittany's cried turned to muffled sobs. Santana reached for a tissue and gently dabbed the blonde's face with it. She then lifted her up and practically carried her to the sink, where she wet the tissue and tenderly wiped the mascara tracks off of her face. She gave the blonde the strongest smile she could manage,
"Let's get you home, Britt-Britt."
The next week was a blur of activity; Santana had explained what happened to Brittany's parents, who were nothing but supportive and understanding. So, endeavouring to cheer up her girlfriend on their first Christmas as a couple, Santana set about trying to make Christmas as special as possible. On the first day of the holidays Santana took Brittany ice-skating, but it made the blonde because there was ice at the North Pole. The next day they went Christmas shopping, but Brittany almost cried when they walked past Santa's grotto. Santana and Brittany spent the entirety of the third day listening to Christmas music, an activity Santana was positive Brittany would enjoy, but she was deeply upset by 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town'.
"He's not coming, San. He really isn't coming." She whispered as they lay cuddled in Brittany's bed. Santana just squeezed her tighter and promised never to let go. By Christmas Eve, Santana was ready to crash; but she had work to do.
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It was 11:49 on Christmas Eve and Brittany knew she should be sleeping, but she couldn't. Her mind was whirring into overdrive as she lay on her back in the dark. A light tapping at the window brought her out of her reverie. Gently padding across her room, she pulled up the blind and opened the window. Santana climbed into the room; she was wearing her pyjamas, the bottoms of which were tucked into Ugg boots, and a red coat was wrapped tightly around her body. A red and white Santa hat was pulled down over her forehead.
"I…I know I'm not Santa, I can't climb down chimneys and I don't live at the North Pole or drive a flying sleigh, but…I'm wearing red and I have the hat and my boots are kinda like snow boots and I put antlers and a red nose on Max and-" Santana was cut off when Brittany stepped forward and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss. Santana looped her arms around Brittany's neck and happily returned the kiss. Brittany pulled Santana's body flush against her own, only there was an obstruction under the Latina's coat. Her brow furrowed in confusion, so Santana reached under her coat and pulled out a rectangular box, "Merry Christmas, B."
Brittany grinned and sat down on the bed, the box in front of her. She tore open the wrapping paper and pulled off the lid of the box. Inside was an expensive-looking leather-bound book; 'S&B' was in gold lettering on the cover. Santana sat down next to her,
"Open it." She instructed softly. Brittany did as she was told and, as she flicked through the book, she saw almost every picture ever taken of the two of them together. She looked back up at her girlfriend, her eyes watering,
"Oh my god, I love it, S!" She breathed out, placing the book on the table next to her and pulling Santana into her arms. She pulled off the Latina's boots and hat and helped her out of her coat before lying back against the pillows and bringing Santana with her. They snuggled as closely as humanely possible, Santana's head on Brittany's chest, her breath tingling the crook of the blonde's neck.
"I think a small part of me knew Santa wasn't real, but I guess I just wanted to believe it. I never really wanted to grow up."
"Hmm?" Santana hummed, urging Brittany to continue.
"But now I have a reason to grow up."
"What's that?"
"You. You're growing up. And I want to grow up with you." Santana smiled and placed a kiss to Brittany's collarbone. "I don't need Santa anyway. I have my very own Santana Claus."
Santana laughed, tilting her head upwards to meet Brittany for a soft kiss. Then they fell asleep, surrounded by nothing but warmth, happiness and love.
And, just as she drifted out of consciousness, Santana could have sworn she heard sleigh bells.
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A/N: IS IT SANTA? :O review if you'd like too, it's the season of giving after all ;) Emily x
I HOPE EVERYONE HAS A REALLY FANTASTIC CHRISTMAS!