ummm so leigh-kelly (on and tumblr) and i have been doing this back and forth writing feels explosion over on tumblr and i've gotten multiple requests to put it onto ff . net. we're (kinda) sorry for clogging your dashes and (not at all sorry about) breaking tumblr mobile. please take note that this one hundred percent off the cuff and we never know what the other one will write, which makes it insanely fun. also this is still an ongoing piece and is probably not going to stay up-to-date here at . you should go check our tumblrs instead and maybe leave screaming all-caps messages in our inboxes 'cause we love those. i'm also purposely not putting in the breaks where we switch who is writing, so see if you guys can figure it out on your own. and i didn't edit for spelling so apologies if there are mistakes, i'm lazy.
brittana or die bitches slash otp: soon to be wifeys. ENJOY THE FEELS.
"But did she have to do it in front of the whole glee club?"
"Remember when she called glee club the best part of her day? You guys are her family too and I think it was so brave of her."
"It just seems really crass of her, Brittany. She knows I'm still struggling with my break-up with Blaine, and this is what she does, she kicks people when they're down, remember-"
"No, I'm going to stop you right there Kurt Hummel, that's actually not who she is at all. That's what you've all made her out to be. Not who she really is, and you know it. Think about it, really, just for a minute. Who was the first one who tried to get you back in this school when Dave was bullying you?"
"Her, but-" Brittany shakes her head and holds up a hand.
"Who went after Sebastian when he almost blinded Blaine Warbler?"
"Her."
"Who was the one who tried to protect Rachel when she was with that my sized Ken Doll?"
"Her." Kurt slumps his shoulders dejectedly.
"Yeah. Exactly. She's the best kind of person, Kurt. She cares so much about you. Do you know that she cried, because of the way you acted? Not only because you turned one of the most important moments of our life into something negative, but because she feels bad that you were hurt. It wasn't supposed to be about you. It was supposed to be about me, and her, our love." The sparkling tears in Brittany's eyes are evident, and she rubs her thumb over the inside of the band on her left ring finger.
Kurt doesn't speak for a few long moments.
"Look, I know things have been hard for you with Blaine and Karofsky, but sometimes things happen in relationships. Things you don't expect and things that at the time seem like the worst possible outcome. But you can't give up and you can't stand still." Her eyes flick down at the ring again and back up. "Kurt."
He looks up at her finally, tears in his eyes.
"Don't give up. I never did."
"It's hard. Almost impossible hard." His voice is hardly above a whisper. "Was it this hard for you too? Where you felt like you couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't even think straight anymore?"
"I'm not sure if you were ever thinking straight." Brittany jokes a little, and she sees the slightest hint of a smile on his face. "But yeah, it was. The breakup hurt, but when I got a text from her that told me she'd started seeing Dani, it was like someone hit me in the chest with a baseball bat. I cried for like four days."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. It didn't matter that I'd dated someone first. She's my person, you know? My one true love, and even though I had faith that we'd find our way to each other again, it didn't mean that I wanted to think about her with someone else. And not even the sexy stuff, just holding her hand, kissing her forehead, making her breakfast, sending her dumb texts. That hurt most. I know people don't always give me credit, but I'm really good at understanding, and I've been there, so…"
"But Karofsky? Really? He terrorized me in high school, how could he…"
"We both know people change," she interrupts, glancing at the ring again and thinking back to Santana sophomore year. How she snapped at Rachel after Landslide. How she looked that day in front of the lockers. He's just a stupid boy. "Karofsky was scared too back then, remember? Just have faith, I have a feeling it's going to work out and Santana says I've got ESPN about these sort of things. He'll catch up, you know?"
Kurt nods and sniffles loudly, swiping at his nose. "I'm sorry I ruined it earlier. You're right, today was about you two and I should have seen that." He reaches out to squeeze her hand with a watery smile.
"You didn't ruin it, I promise. Nothing could have possibly ruined it. Ever." She can't help the grin that splits from ear-to-ear. Her fiance.
"I'm really happy for you, Brittany. For both of you."
"Thanks, Kurt. And I think you owe my fiance an apology."
"I know. I am proud of her, you know. I lived with her for months, and never once saw her as honest and open as she was during that speech. You bring out the best in her."
"No." Brittany shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips as she thinks of unicorns, and the MIT encouragement, and the nights on their tour where she'd come into bed bone tired, and Santana would remind her of what an amazing dancer she was, of all the great she'd accomplish. "We bring out the best in each other."
"Yeah, I guess that's true. So where is she now? And do you think you could come with me? She won't murder me in front of you."
"She's at the Lima Bean. I was giving her some time to herself, to get her head together and stuff. We're talking about maybe going to see her abuela before we go back home." Brittany's voice is quiet, serious, and Kurt realizes that she's trusting him enough to share something so personal, so important.
As soon as they step foot into the Lima Bean, Brittany finds Santana on instinct. She's alone at a table by the far window, nursing a mug of steaming coffee looking like she's not quite all there.
"Hey, space cadet," Brittany greets, kissing her on the cheek.
"Hey, baby." Her expression softens immediately at the sight of Brittany but narrows her eyes when she notices Kurt. "And if it isn't Mr. Ungrateful himself. Didn't you already do enough damage today, Hummel? Swing away."
"I owe you an apology, Santana." That gets her attention. "I was wrong to behave the way I did in that choir room. I was hurt and lashed out and should have realized that this was your moment. Yours and Brittany's and I tried to take that from you. I'm hurting, but that's no excuse. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry." Santana's scowl turns progressively to a soft smile. "And also, I'm really proud of you, Santana."
With that, her eyes get misty and Brittany reaches to squeeze her hand from across the table. Because I voted for you. I believe in you, Santana.
"I love you guys," Kurt whispers, laying his hand over both of theirs.
"We love you too, Lady Hummel," Santana begrudges, rolling her eyes and leaning over to press a kiss to Brittany's lips.
"On that note, I'm going to go." Kurt stands up, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"You can stay, if you want." Santana offers, though she's still sort of staring into her coffee cup, eyes glazed over.
"No, it's alright, I've got some thinking to do, I think. Thanks again, Britt. And congratulations. Give me a little time, and I'm happy to offer my wedding expertise."
"Will go, Captain Unicorn. Go find some of that magic." Brittany winks, and with a tip of his imaginary hat, Kurt is off, and Britt refocuses her energy on her fiancee. "Hey."
"Hi." Santana's voice cracks a little, and Brittany feels a strong urge to cradle her in her arms and kiss her all over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. This is such a happy day, and I kind of wish I didn't bring it up until tomorrow, because now I'm getting weepy. And you said yes, you said yes, Britt. I'm so, so happy and I don't want to cry, and I don't want to ruin our big day."
"Hey, hey, sweetheart." Brittany soothes, kissing Santana's lips again, and running her fingers through dark locks. "It's okay. We have all the days of our life together to be happy, and we're going back to New York the day after tomorrow. I want all of your dreams to come true, San, and I know this is one of them. It's not ruining our day at all."
"I just want her to see," Santana breathes, swallowing down her tears. "See how over-the-moon happy I am to one day soon call you my wife. I want her to be proud of me, too."
"I want that more than anything," Brittany urges, pressing their foreheads together. "You ready to go? Or do we need to stop for motivational milkshakes on the way?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." And with that, Santana stands, offering up a hand and pulling Brittany to her feet. Brittany laces their fingers together as they make their way out to the car.
Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany watches the way Santana fidgets in the passenger seat, and she wishes there was something she could do to help calm her down. Briefly, she considers pulling over, but Brittany knows the best thing to do is just pull the bandaid off, and instead settles for bringing Santana's wrist to her lips, and kissing there to calm her hammering pulse.
"I love you no matter what." Santana whispers, staring out the window at the big imposing house.
"Of course you do, silly." Brittany tries to keep it light, waggling her left hand. "And I'm here for you no matter what."
"It's just, if she says something, or she-"
"Hey, honey, I can handle her. It's you I'm worried about."
"She rejected me once. It can't be worse the second time, right?"
"Let's not even think like that. Let's just think that she's going to come around, and then afterwards, I'm going to buy my fiancee all the breadsticks she can eat, and then give her sweet lady kisses until she can pass out."
"Well that's a reward." Santana laughs a little, and Brittany feels like she's accomplished her goal. "Okay, let's do it."
Fingers laced together (and maybe Brittany's hand half broken with how tight Santana is squeezing, but she doesn't mind) they make their way to the door, and sucking in a deep breath, Santana rings the bell.
"Yes. How can I help you?" Alma Lopez opens, trying to hide the elation in her eyes at seeing her granddaughter again, even if she IS holding hands with Brittany. She looks older, Santana thinks, it's been three years since she's seen her, after all, and smaller, and maybe, maybe a little bit softer-though that could be wishful thinking.
"Abuela. Hi."
"Santana, what are you doing here?" She takes in Santana from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, a sad smile forming before turning to Brittany and nodding just slightly.
"Hi, Abuela," Brittany greets softly.
"Can we come in?" Santana sounds so small she feels like a kid again, running to Abuela about a skinned knee, not her still broken heart. Three years can feel like a lifetime.
"I'm not sure if-" Abuela hesitates, looking distantly past them out to the street.
"Please." When Santana's voice cracks, something in in the air seems to change. I don't want to fight anymore. I'm just too tired.
"Okay." Abuela sighs but motions them into the house and Brittany squeezes her hand quickly.
Upon crossing the threshold, Santana actually loses her breath. Abuela's house looks entirely the same as it has for nineteen years and the tears come quickly, dripping one after the other silently down her cheeks. The mantle is still adorned with year after year of Santana's grade school pictures, including the last photograph Santana ever took with Abuelo before he passed. Santana blinks at the picture of her in that red cap and gown, because Abuela refused to come to her high school graduation.
When she turns back to her grandmother, she bites her lip to keep from sobbing. It's one thing to be a thousand miles away in New York and an entirely different one to be here in this house and face-to-face with the one person besides Brittany she's always just wanted to love her. The grandfather clock ticks loudly from the corner of the room.
"Can I hug you?" It comes out strangled and desperate, but Santana doesn't care.
She starts crying in earnest when Abuela opens up her arms.
I have to just be me.
"I've missed you, nieta." The words are spoken so low, with so much caution, that it seems as if they hardly exist at all.
"Te extraño también."
Brittany holds her breath, watching the exchange, watching the way Santana trembles in the arms she fears might let her go as quickly as they embraced her, and she finds herself releasing a silent plea to the universe. Please. Please, don't make her fight another war. Please. Let her finally see that she's only lost the person she knew when she let her go. She wrings her hands behind her back, knowing the old woman has a hawk eye, knowing that if that diamond on her left hand is visible, Santana won't be able to tell her grandmother herself.
"I have prayed." Alma speaks, a little louder this time, and Santana stiffens in her arms, unsure of whether she should pull away, or keep clinging, to hold on to every last second. "At first I prayed for strength. Strength to stay home on Christmas day, strength keep myself from seeing my granddaughter graduate high school, strength to keep from picking up the phone. But then slowly, I began to pray for guidance, to know whether I'd done what God would want of me."
"Abuelita-"
"Please. I know I have no right to ask anything of you anymore, Santanita, but if you would give me a moment to speak, it would be appreciated."
"Okay." Santana's voice is still so small that it makes Brittany's heart twist in her chest, and her stomach feel a little sick, wishing she could take away all that hesitation and fear.
"I have decided that it would be hypocritical of me to shun love, in favor of hate, or even indifference. This is all very new to me, this…way you feel about girls, but if you have me back, I promise you I will try."
Santana's whole body shakes as Alma clutches her and Brittany looks to the sky. Thank you. She has the sudden urge to run screaming down the quiet suburban street as fast as she possibly can, shouting to the heavens how proud and in love with Santana Lopez she is. How in love she has always been.
"Te amo, Abuelita," Santana whispers, her throat nearly raw.
"I love you, too, Santanita. Siempre." And suddenly Alma is looking at Brittany over Santana's shoulder. Thank you, she mouths, and although Brittany isn't sure what for, she feels like she could sprout wings right there and fly. Finally, finally, Santana is getting every happiness she never thought she deserved.
When Santana finally pulls away, she swipes at her eyes before turning back towards Brittany with her happiest light-up-the-room smile and reaches for her hand, tugging her closer. "C'mere." And Brittany follows, as she always has.
"Can we sit?" Santana asks softly, motioning towards the kitchen table. The same kitchen table where she poured out her heart those years ago and where the old Santana may still lay, broken and bleeding.
"We have something to tell you," Santana starts, squeezing their laced hands even tighter together and looking at Brittany once more to be sure this is the right thing. Brittany responds by kissing her knuckles and smiling softly.
With one last deep breath, Santana speaks. "I asked Brittany to marry me today, Abuela. And she said yes."
"You're getting married?" Alma's eyes mist over, and both Brittany and Santana hold their breaths, hoping this isn't the kind of thing that will break the fragile foundations of a rekindled relationship. Slowly, she brings the sleeve of her shirt to her eyes to wipe the tears that gather in the corners, and a smile breaks across her face. "My granddaughter is getting married?"
"She is." Brittany beams proudly at Santana, never breaking the tight hold she has on her hand, and Alma notes the diamond twinkling.
"May I?" She holds out her hand, and so tentatively, Santana loosens her grip, and sets her hand on Brittany's thigh, still needing to ground herself. Brittany extends her left hand to Santana's grandmother, and she takes it, squeezing, before admiring the ring.
"I'm impressed, Santanita." Alma smiles, and Santana feels as if she might melt into the floor, overwhelmed by the affection she'd craved so long from the woman. "Forgive me, I don't know how these things work, with two women, but will you wear a ring also, mi corazon?"
"I-"
"She will." Brittany cuts Santana off, knowing she'll begin stammering, because of course she'll want to wear a ring, and it's Brittany's job to get her one. "It's all so new, but I plan on getting her the best one I can find. I want Santana to have the best of everything."
"It's beautiful to see the way you love her." Alma finds herself truly surprised, actually feeling the love that radiates from Brittany's eyes, that colors even the few words she's spoken since their arrival. "If you'll allow me, Brittany, there's something I'd like to give to you."
Abuela disappears briefly from the room, giving Brittany the chance to take Santana's face in both of her hands and kiss her. "I am so proud of you, honey," Brittany mumbles, kissing her lips and then looking down to the diamond on her left ring finger. "I can't even stand it."
"I love you." It sounds like the most resolute promise.
"And I love you. So so much." Another misty-eyed kiss.
When Alma returns, she pulls out the chair adjacent to Brittany and sits, taking both of her hands and pressing something small and round into her palm. "This was Santana's Abuelo's wedding ring," she starts, closing Brittany's fingers around the thick gold band and kissing the back of her closed fist. "Obviously it won't fit either of you, but maybe you could have it melted down and made into your own wedding bands." Santana cries silently alongside watching two of her favorite people talk about her future wedding rings while Brittany tries to stop her hands from shaking.
"Oh Abuela," she starts, whispering. "I don't know-"
"Please, Brittany. I want you to have it. Both of you," she promises, reaching across to Santana and holding fast to them both. "May it bring you both all the love, strength and happiness it brought to my dear husband and I for over fifty years. Now dios mio, let me make you something to eat, you're both too skinny!"
Brittany laughs and tucks the ring safely into her pocket as her and Santana stand to embrace Alma together, all the while wondering if she's ever felt happier than here with Santana in her grandmother's kitchen.
Still a little overcome, Santana excuses herself to the bathroom, silently checking that Brittany is okay to be left alone before she does so.
"Santana's still too skinny." Alma looks to Brittany as she drops empanadas into hot oil. "When you marry her, you need to make sure she eats enough. She's stubborn, that girl."
"I will." Brittany promises, feeling like it's a very important vow she's making.
"But you know this, of course you know this, I'm sorry, it's not my place. Not anymore."
"Abuela." Brittany stands from her seat, and makes her way over to the stove, watching the oil snap and bubble. "I'd love to hear what you'd like to tell me about Santana. I'd love to hear everything you have to tell me about her."
"I'm afraid you know more about her than I do now."
"How about this? I love to hear about Santana before I knew her, and you'd like to hear about the past few years. Maybe we can help each other out."
"Oh, Brittany." Alma doesn't bother to stop the tears that fall down her cheeks. "You are a good, good girl, and so kind to me, who's done so wrong by the girl you love. Thank you, thank you cariña. It's hard for me to believe, seeing the way you care for each other, how I ever saw sin in this."
"She's incredible," Brittany breathes. "She's brilliant and kind and fierce and caring and just has the best heart. She's exactly who you raised her to be, Abuela." Brittany blinks away tears and laughs quietly to herself at how perfect today has been. Engaged to her best friend. The one she's wanted and fought for from the beginning. Hers forever. "That's the Santana you've missed the past few years. Not the scared one or the bitter one or the callus one, but the real one."
"I am an old woman, Brittany," Alma relents. "I only hope I'm not too late to be part of her life again. I have missed so much already."
"We'll just have to make up for lost time, then."
"Make up for what?" Santana asks, entering the kitchen and giving her abuela a kiss on the cheek before stealing two empanadas. She greets Brittany with a scrunchy-face smile and a peck on the lips, offering the snack.
"Brittany, I read in the newspaper that you are one of the smartest of your generation. A perfect SAT score? MIT? That's quite an accomplishment." Brittany nods hesitantly, sensing the usual upcoming awkward conversation concerning her whole dropping-out-of-MIT thing, but Abuela surprises them both. "Are you sure my granddaughter deserves you?" Alma jokes, squeezing one of Santana's apple cheeks as they flush pink.
"I don't deserve her, I can promise you that, Abuela," Santana says, grabbing for Brittany's hand and squeezing it.
"Don't say that." Brittany tries to keep her tone light, joking, but there's a seriousness behind it, a seriousness that stems from Brittany's knowledge that Santana has spent most of her life feeling unworthy. "Sometimes I'm pretty sure I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. You saved me Santana, from being a math monkey forever."
"Math monkey?" Alma questions, looking a lot like Santana when she furrows her brow in confusion.
"They weren't treating Britt very well at MIT, they thought she was some kind of human calculator, and she wasn't allowed to have a life, or anything. I didn't really do anything, I just showed her how to dance again."
"Which was everything. Trust me, abuela, Santana deserves me, not only because of how awesome she is, but because of how happy she makes me. If I weren't for her, I'd still be at MIT, rotting away in a lab somewhere."
"Oh, you're no longer at MIT then?" Alma asks, and Brittany is surprised that she isn't hearing the same kind of judgement she usually gets.
"No." She shakes her head. "I went because it was a way out of Lima, but then someone helped me realize that I could be out of Lima wherever I wanted. And now we're in New York."
"New York is a good place for you both, I think. But you'll come back here, for the wedding?"
Brittany looks at Santana, and she knows it kills her that they can't, knows that she'd always wanted to get married in the big country club that she'd had every other big moment of her life in, her Baptism, her First Communion, her Quinceañera. Softly, Brittany squeezes her hand, reassuring her that it's okay, that once they get to planning, they'll have something perfect in New York, at home for them now, and Santana turns slightly, offering Brittany a grateful smile.
"It's not…it's not allowed here yet, abuelita." Santana speaks so quietly, like she's afraid those words will make her grandmother take everything back. "But we really, really hope that you'll come to New York."
Alma's eyes fill once more with tears as she watches her granddaughter fondly. "God willing, I would not miss it for anything, mi querida. You're both going to look so beautiful," she gushes, reaching for their hands and squeezing tightly, tears spilling over and trailing down her cheeks.
"Te amo, abuelita," Santana whispers, still not quite believing how well today has turned out. Not only did the love of her life say yes to marrying her, but she has her estranged grandmother's blessing. How did she get so lucky? Reluctantly, she notices the time. "We really need to be going, Abuela. We still haven't told either of our parents yet, so no blabbing yet, okay?"
"Sí, sí, no te preocupes, niña. And please don't be a stranger, okay? Sus padres bought me that computer last Christmas and it's about time I put it to some use, yes? Maribel says I can even see you while we talk?"
Santana chuckles and promises to make sure to teach her how to use Skype before her and Brittany fly back to New York. Alma walks with an arm around Santana's waist all the way to the front door of the house, embracing her tightly and kissing her on the forehead. "I love you, Santanita. And you too, Brittany," she turns, standing on tiptoe to kiss her on the cheek. "Remember what I told you, yes? Too skinny! And make sure she calls her grandmother, por favor."
"You can count on me, Abuela," Brittany swears, blushing and lacing her fingers to intertwine with Santana's.
"I know that now, dear. Goodbye, girls."
It doesn't surprise Brittany in the slightest that the moment they we're alone in the car, Santana's hands are on her cheeks, cradling her face as she pulls her in for a deep kiss. Brittany drinks her all in, realizing that with all that had gone on that day, they haven't even been able to kiss like this, kiss for real, one of those deep, passionate, oh my God we're getting married and we're going to be together for the rest of our life kisses. Brittany can taste the relief on Santana's lips and tongue, can taste the happiness, and the promise, and all of it.
"Hi." Santana smiles affectionately as she pulls back, still holding Brittany's face in her hands.
"Hey fianceé." Brittany grins, and Santana just has to kiss her again.
"You said yes. My abuela loves me again. Britt, she gave us my abuelo's ring. The only two dreams I ever had that mattered are coming true!" She cries out, and then bursts into tears, because emotions are tough for Santana, and it's a lot.
"Hey, honey, it's okay." Brittany runs her fingers through Santana's hair, kissing her face.
"I know, I know it is. It's so much more than okay…I'm just so happy, I don't know what to do."
"Why don't you and I go to the park for a little while and just be alone? I think we deserve a little time just to ourself, before our parents jump all over us."
"That's a good idea." Santana nods, letting Brittany wipe the tears from our face. "I don't think they'll give us very long though. They all knew I was proposing today."
"They did?! Even my parents?" Brittany asks, surprised but smiling goofily at the idea of Santana sitting in her childhood home and asking her parents for permission to marry their baby girl. She imagines how Santana probably worries her hands together and addresses her parents by Mr. and Mrs. Pierce even though they have begged her to use their first names since she turned eighteen. How when they say,oh yes, honey, and finish kissing and hugging her, she pulls out the ring that she's scrimped and saved for over the last six months and they start crying too. Brittany chokes up because this girl is so loving and wonderful andhers.
"What, you think I wouldn't ask for their permission? They said yes, by the way." Brittany can't help but kiss the grin right off of Santana's face.
"I can't believe you, you sneak," she swoons, finally starting the car and pulling out into the street. They hold hands over the gear shifter and are quiet for the quick drive to the park, Santana hummingSongbirdquietly as she unabashedly watches Brittany the entire way.
Aside from a few small children and parents milling about the playground, the park is empty. Brittany pulls a red blanket emblazoned with "McKinley Football" from the trunk and spreads it out under the shade of the largest oak tree. Santana sighs as she settles into Brittany, tucking into the nook under her chin and placing a kiss there for luck.
"Okay, spill, pretty girl. How long have you been planning this?"
"Since the first time I was able to look in your eyes when I made you come." Santana says shyly, and Brittany feels like she might melt, right there. "No, but like, planning planning? Since we had that weekend in New York together before the second half of the tour."
"Really? That long?" Brittany gapes, because that was nearly six months ago, and she has no idea how she had absolutely no inclination.
"Yeah. I don't know, being in the city with you where we were going to make our future…it just made me want to make us official, you know?"
"Wow."
"It took me forever to pick out the ring though. Whenever you were gone for more than an hour, I was shopping. I drove Mercedes absolutely crazy."
"Mercedes? She knew?" Brittany asks, though it suddenly makes a lot more sense why she'd been so upset about having to rush back to New York for an emergency meeting.
"She had to borrow my computer one day, and I forgot I'd left the Tiffany's website open." Santana pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, grateful that she could finally stop worrying about someone spoiling her surprise. "She called being my maid of honor. Not that I wouldn't have asked her anyway, after all she's done for us."
They sit quietly for a while, stealing occasional kisses from each other, and just holding each other tightly in the cold night air. Santana plays with the ring on Brittany's finger, and Brittany watches those hands, the hands that she'll hold for the rest of her life. She can hear the sound of Santana's mind moving, can tell she has a question to ask, and she kisses just below her earlobe before tilting her head up to see her eyes.
"What is it?"
"Is it…is it okay?" Santana's voice is nervous and cracking, and Brittany swears, someday, she'll get Santana to stop doubting herself so much, especially when it comes to romantic gestures. "Because if you don't like it, if the diamond is too small, or whatever, we can go exchange it. You have to wear it for the rest of your life, and I just want you to really, really love it."
"Honey." Brittany brings her hand up, and kisses Santana's fingers. "I love it. It's perfect, and I love YOU even more. I would love anything you gave to me."
"Okay." Santana breaths a sigh of relief. "I am so glad you said yes."
"Of course I said yes." Brittany laughs, because obviously. "I had started looking too, you just beat me to it."
Santana remains serious at the admission, kissing Brittany's open palm. "It was weirdly important to me that I asked you."
"How come?" Brittany asks, trailing her fingers lightly up and down Santana's arm, drawing out goosebumps.
Santana tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. "You were always waiting on me. Waiting for me to admit it wasn't just sex, waiting for me to accept myself, to hold your hand in public, all of it. My whole life you've been waiting for me, Brittany. And I love you more than you know for that, because you knew I needed to figure it all out on my own. And I didn't want you to wait for me anymore."
"I would wait for you forever."
"Yeah, I know," Santana breathes, scooching up to kiss her softly. "I just wanted you to know I'm so ready to start the next part of our life together and I'm so proud to call you my fianceé."
"It's just the best, isn't it? Sometimes I close my eyes and see you down on one knee and I actually think the love pumping from my heart could propel me straight up into the air like a jet pack and I could fly laps around the earth like Superman."
"Only if you took me with you."
"Always."
"We should probably go." Santana says, her excitement outweighing her reluctance to leave the few short moments of privacy her and Brittany have had together all day.
"Yeah, we should. Let's stop on the way and get a bottle of champagne. Or maybe two, one to share with our families, and one for just us, for later."
"That sounds perfect."
They're in the car, after stopping at the liquor store, singing along to the radio when it happens. The instant the first note plays, Santana freezes, her laugher ceasing, and she reaches over quickly to change the station. It's Brittany, surprisingly, who stops her, grabbing her hand on the dial and squeezing it tightly.
"Will you sing it for me?" She asks quietly, her blue eyes serious.
"Britt, I-"
"Please, Santana? Will you?"
"You promise me you won't cry?"
"If I do, it will only because I'm so happy. This song was never supposed to be sad to begin with."
"Okay." Santana agrees, not losing the grip she has on Brittany.
By the times it's over, and Santana's gorgeous voice has cracked a little, they are both crying. They're crying because it's true, because it has always been true, no matter how hard things were.
"Thank you." Brittany breathes, kissing the inside of Santana's wrist. "I wanted us to have it again, when we're both not broken, when we're happier than we have ever been."
"You are, you know, my best thing. You always have been."
"You're mine too. And I always knew we'd make it. I told Kurt that today, to never give up, because if it's real love, all the other stuff in the middle doesn't really matter."
"My fianceé is such a genius."
"Oh stop," Brittany blushes, swatting playfully at Sanana's shoulder. "Well, what do you say? Looks like the gang's all here, did you plan all this, too?" Brittany asks, noticing her parent's car parked in the Lopez's driveway.
"Maaaaybe. Just figured we might as well kill two birds with one stone, right? It was actually my mom's idea, she wouldn't shut up about wanting to have a celebratory glass of wine with the future in-laws."
"You were that sure I'd say yes, huh?"
"Please, I had to text all four of them afterwards to confirm. I'll let you read the group text later, it's hilarious. Lots of all-caps screaming and your mom used about a million emojis."
"Oh gosh, I can only imagine. She is an emoji whore as it is, I bet she's outdone herself."
They meet in front of the car, joining hands and each holding a bottle of champagne. They kiss once more, deep and slow, before making their way up to the front of the house. Brittany lets her mind wander to all the times her feet have traveled this same walkway over the years: 'study sessions' after long Cheerios practices, sneaking in drunk after football parties to sleep over, picking Santana up for their first date, photos on the front porch before their senior prom. Her eyes get misty thinking this will be the first time entering Santana's house as her future wife.
She takes a deep breath as Santana pushes the door open and allows herself to be pulled inside.
"Girls!" Maribel Lopez jumps up from her place on the couch, and nearly dives across the room, nearly snatching Brittany's left hand away from Santana's, before remembering they'd all planned to keep cool, and wringing her hands in front of her instead. "Hi. How was your day? Did exciting happen?"
"I already told her that you all know." Santana shook her head, laughing. Tugging a little at Brittany's hand, she held it out before them, letting the light catch the diamond, and rainbows reflect on the wall.
"We're getting married!" Brittany cried out, letting Santana immediately pull her close, bracing them both for the inevitable barrage of hugs.
"She really said yes." Santana says, a soft wonderment in her voice, like even hours later, she still can't entirely believe it.
"Tell us everything!" Brittany's mom demands, after the huge group hug breaks.
"Champagne first!" Julio Lopez commands, and wrinkles his nose at what the girls have in their hands. "Dios mio, Santanita. I appreciate your fiscal responsibility, but it's your engagement night! Give me that, we have Dom Perignon in the fridge."
Once flutes are filled, and a toast is made to the brides to be, Brittany and Santana curl into the overstuffed armchair, Santana's head on Brittany's shoulder, her fingers playing the ring again, thinking that she will probably never get sick of that, never get sick of knowing that she and Brittany will belong to each other forever.
"Okay, so the story." Brittany giggles as the champagne bubbles tickle her nose, and she stops to kiss Santana, closing her eyes and picturing again the love of her life down on one knee. "Santana is the sneakiest, cutest, sweetest soon to be wifey of mine in the entire world."
"Britt." Santana whines a little, embarrassed.
"What? You are." She gushes. "So we were doing this duet together, and Santana actually got ME to come up with choreography that had her with her hand in her pocket the WHOLE time. I didn't even think it was weird, even though Santana basically never wears pockets, and I always end up holding her money, and her ID, and her phone, and everything else she can't fit down her dress in there whenever we go out."
"Not true."
"Totally true, honey. It's okay, I don't mind." Brittany smiles affectionately, and Susan and Maribel share a look, still finding it hard to believe that their little girls are all grown up, living in New York, and getting married. "So the whole time, she's looking at me with her special lovey eyes, but I keep thinking it's just because it's the first time we've ever sang something so romantic together in front of other people. But then the song is over, and everyone's clapping, because obviously, we are awesome, and she leads me back to the seats we used to sit in when we were in the Glee club, and before I know it, she's down on one knee, and she's finally taking her hand out of her pocket. So I feel like I can't breathe, because there's a ring in her hand, and she's looking at me like there's no one else in the room, and she starts talking, but I have to ask her to start again."
"And it wasn't even making sense what I said the first time anyway." Santana interjects. "Because I was so, so nervous, and it didn't matter that I practiced my speech a hundred times."
"Anyways, she's tripping over her words and we're both crying and she finally she manages to ask me to be with her forever. And I said-"
"Proudly so," Santana finishes, turning Brittany's chin with a finger to press another kiss to her lips. There's a high pitch squeal that comes from either Susan or Maribel and Brittany smiles into another kiss at their adorable mothers.
"And then of course the whole glee club is up and hugging us and Rachel is yapping in our ears per usual-"
"Troll."
"Santana," Brittany chides, "she wasn't that bad. Not like Kurt who threw a hissy fit because of his broken engagement, calling Santana selfish and crass for proposing in front of the whole glee club and rubbing it in his face." She rolls her eyes, still annoyed at his childish outburst. "But I straightened him out, so to speak," she jokes.
"And then we went to see Abuela." Santana's voice is small and shy again, and Brittany squeezes her quickly around the waist in encouragement.
Maribel chokes on her champagne. "You what?"
"We knocked on her door and I told her that Brittany and I were engaged."
"And?" Julio asks impatiently, his shoulders drawn back as if ready storm out the front door at any moment and drive straight to his mother's house to fiercely defend his only daughter.
"She asked for forgiveness, Papí," she says tearfully, still barely believing it herself. "She gave Brittany Abuelo's ring." Santana watches her parents share a relieved but incredulous look before she's on her feet and wrapping them both up in a hug. "And promised to come to the wedding."
"Oh, mi corazón," Maribel gushes, kissing Santana over and over on the crown of her head. "That is wonderful, I knew she would come around. She loves you so much, sweetheart." And just when Santana thinks she's done enough crying for one day, the tears come again and Brittany wraps her up tight, whispering an I love you, baby into her hair.
For several minutes, Brittany and Santana are back in their own little world, Brittany murmuring words of love that only her fiancee can hear, Santana promising over and over again that she's okay, just overwhelmed by the day. Their parents leave them be, engaging in their own conversation, knowing the way they've been, the way they're always been, even before they were a THEY. It's not until Brittany tenderly dries the tears from under Santana's eyes, and wipes away more smudged mascara (though she can't believe Santana even still has any on) that they finally rejoin the conversation with their families.
"We know you've had a lot going on today, and you probably didn't have time to talk about it, but do you have any idea when you'll have the wedding?" Maribel asks, looking to her husband, knowing he's perhaps the most desperate to know, having dreamed of walking his daughter down the aisle since the day she was born.
"The spring." Brittany and Santana say simultaneously, never having even discussed it.
"This coming?" Marshall Pierce asks, mentally taking note of how much is in the savings account he started when Brittany was very young.
"Is that okay with you, baby?" Santana asks, crinkling the corners of her eyes the way Brittany loves so much.
"I think it's perfect."
"You know that's not much time to find a place, especially in New York, right girls?" Susan asks.
"We're not looking to get married at the Plaza or anything, Susan."
"Definitely not." Brittany wrinkles her nose. "That sounds like the kind of wedding Kurt or Rachel would want. I like outside weddings, like under the Brooklyn Bridge, or by the Boat Pond."
"You just want us to take pictures by the Alice statue in our wedding dresses, don't you?" Santana laughs, then realizes that she kind of wants that too.
"Maybe. Think of all the little girls who will see us there, and how we'll show them that just because they're girls, it doesn't mean they have to marry a prince."
They finish the bottle of champagne over stories surrounding their lives in New York and the past few months touring across the country with Mercedes. Brittany's parents eventually decide it's late and time to head home, making their way to the front door.
"Santana, sweetheart, we are so proud and happy to have you in the family. We love you both so much, congratulations," Susan gushes, kissing both girls on the cheek one after the other.
"Thank you, Susan."
"And Santana, you take care of my little girl," adds Mr. Pierce, hugging her tightly.
"I promise."
After a quick good night to Santana's parents, Brittany grabs one of the cheap bottles of champagne and follows Santana up the stairs to her childhood room. It brings Brittany an immense amount of both comfort and nostalgia at being in that dark bedroom again, the same black satin sheets and Bob Marley poster on the wall, Santana's clothes and shoes somehow already strewn all over the floor even though she's only been here just over a day.
When Artie and I are together, we talk about things like feelings.
It's better without eye contact.
But this is the bed where they first kissed. And the same one where they first had sex. As if Santana can actually see the gears turning in her brain, she embraces Brittany around the middle, pressing her cheek to Brittany's back.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"You," Brittany answers simply, turning around in Santana's arms and bringing both hands to her face. "I am so in love with you it's insane. Like, today," she pauses, speechless. "Today was perfect," she beams, looking to the ring and back. "I can't wait to call you my wife. And Abuela, oh honey-"
"I love you." It's all Santana can say before she closes the distance between them with a long kiss. "What do you say we pop that bottle, fianceé?"
"Only if we're drinking it in the bathtub." Brittany suggests, and Santana hums her approval, nipping Brittany's lip, before turning to run the bath.
They don't have a tub in New York, their apartment is so small, they're lucky that they even have the small stall shower that they'll sometimes squeeze in together after a particularly long day. Because of that, and because bathing together had once been such a cornerstone of their fumbling, confusing early relationship, they have every intention of taking full advantage of Santana's hotel sized tub.
"You're staring." Santana notes. Brittany has already climbed in the tub, and Santana takes her time undressing, wiping the lingering traces of makeup from her face.
"You're so pretty." Pretty doesn't even begin to describe her fiancee, she thinks, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, crafted by the gods, maybe, but the way the apples of Santana's cheeks always color whenever she says that simple word means that Brittany will spend the rest of her life saying it. The rest of her life.
"So are you." Santana says back, her breath hitching just a little bit from the way Brittany's eyes burn into her. "The prettiest."
Brittany briefly considers making a joke, but the small, serious smile Santana gives her make her change her mind, and she tilts ahead a little instead. Taking the invitation, Santana pulls her shirt over her head and slips in the tub between Brittany's legs. She loves this, more than most things, being naked and pressed to Brittany. There's something about it that's more intimate than sex, maybe because Brittany is the only one she's ever allowed to see her like this, soft and vulnerable. She knows Brittany knows that, and she know Brittany cherishes it, knows that Brittany will cherish and protect her. Always.
"Here's to us, Brittany Susan soon-to-be some combination of our last names." Santana grins a little at the thought, dropping her head against Brittany's shoulder, looking up into her eyes as she lifts the brimming glass of cheap champagne.
After one full glass each, they lose the champagne flutes and take turns swigging right from the bottle. Brittany can't stop laughing for one reason or another in between making out, especially when Santana breaks a kiss to hiccup and burp all at the same time. "Hot," she husks, giving Santana her best predatory look.
They're both the airy and giddy drunk you only get from champagne, hands wandering all over each other in the now lukewarm water. "I wants some breadsticks," Santana whines, before taking Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth.
"Is that all you want?" Brittany asks, lifting a single eyebrow suggestively.
"Not quite, future wife. Let's get in bed. Look at my pruney fingers!" She giggles, wagging her fingertips right in front of Brittany's nose. She grabs the hand quickly and blows a raspberry against Santana's palm.
As they both climb out of the water and towel each other dry, it suddenly it hits: Brittany is going to be with this wonderful woman for the rest of her life. Grumpy-gills Santana will be the first thing she sees in the morning and the very last thing every night. Breakfast in bed and lazy Sunday mornings where they won't get out of bed until noon, lunch dates at Central Park where Brittany can feed the crust of her sandwich to the ducks, cooking dinner for her wife when she has a late night at work and Brittany can't wait for every insignificant moment. She finds herself fingering the inside band of the ring and the promise of the rest of their lives. "Hey," she nudges.
"Hey, baby."
"We're going to get married," she says with the dopiest smile.
"Hells yeah, we are."