DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee. Or "Firework" by Katy Perry. Or much of anything except my very expensive college textbooks. On to the story!
FIREWORK
Brittany was a firework. She lit up the room as she danced. Santana's dark eyes followed her every perfect movement, executed with the utmost of ease, breathlessly. He loved watching her perform. The way she twirled and jumped to the beat. No one could beat her; Brittany was unstoppable, colorful. Perfect. And it was one of the many reasons Santana Lopez was hopelessly in love with her. Her heart thudded to the beat. Her heart thudded to Brittany, followed her movements. Just like it always had. Just like it always will.
People always told them eighteen was just too young to be in love, to know what love was, especially for someone as spoiled by Dr. Daddy as Santana was. But he was never there. Her mom was always somewhere else but never with her father. Santana, having been denied it, knew exactly how to identify it. She knew what love was at a young age. She was six.
She had been sipping her juice box as she played in the sandbox. A new girl jumped in the sand and began dancing and singing along to Britney Spears, her blonde hair flying every which way. Santana had stood up, for she was not one to make friends very easily and had a usually disagreeable disposition, and went to leave. A small hand on her arm stopped her.
"Stay," the blonde girl beamed brightly. "Dance with me."
Since that moment, she was disagreeable to everyone but Brittany and very ferocious to anyone who she felt had wronged Brittany. She was her protector and knight in shining armor- or in a middle school cheerleading uniform. They were inseparable. Santana admired the other girl's everything, but especially her heart. She was drawn to her. Once, Brittany had gone to a dance camp over the summer when they were fifteen. Santana had hugged her friend tearfully while her parents were loading up the car and made her pinky swear to write her every single day. Brittany held out her pinky, and they interlocked them instantly. Santana didn't let go until Brittany got in the car. The sound of the door slamming between them broke her heart, left Santana crying throughout the night until she got a breathless phone call from her best friend at five the next morning. Santana didn't cry; she was HBIC. Until it came to Brittany. That's when she lost all control over everything, but especially her heart.
"S, I miss you already," the blonde girl sniffled. Santana's heart broke. She wanted nothing more than to run to California and engulf the taller girl in her arms. She absolutely hated for Brittany to cry.
"I miss you too, B," Santana whispered, "but you need to be there. You're a great, amazing, talented dancer."
"You're good too, I taught you," Brittany laughed cockily. Santana rolled her eyes. That was much more like it.
"Well maybe I'll go to camp with you next time," she responded, twirling the phone cord between her fingers. She hesitated another moment. "I love you, B. Be great."
"I will, San-tan," her friend said just as softly. "I will because you make me great. I love you too."
Santana's eyes grew misty as she watched her best friend, her everything, own the stage. She sang along with the rest of New Directions, swaying to the beat, but Brittany was her only focus. She was singing to her, not to the audience and not to win, but to her. Her firework.
Brittany was everything good in Santana's life. She was the beautiful explosion of colors in Santana's dark and gloomy sky. Blue eyes locked on hers. Brittany was dancing for her, she could see it reflected in those amazing depths. They complimented each other so well. Santana gave her a brief smile even as her mouth formed the lyrics of the song; Brittany grinned back before turning back to the audience and giving them her all, showing them why she deserved the front center stage.
The taller girl pulled her by the hand to the middle of the stage, bright lights creating a halo around her blonde hair. Santana's breath caught in her throat, and she debated on going back to her position with the rest of the Glee club, frozen. A long slender hand on her arm stopped her.
"Stay," she whispered, the words lost in the song to everyone but Santana. "Dance with me."
Underneath the blinding lights of the auditorium, she took the familiar hand into her own. Soon, she was spinning through the air with Brittany's help; the faster they danced, the wider Santana's smile became. She lived for these moments with Brittany, when everything else disappeared, when they could be their true selves, and when they could express everything through every intimate movement away from each other, toward each other, and with each other. Her feet tapped one, two, three-four on the stage floor. Brittany spun her around one, two-three times, dresses swirling around their knees.
Perfection, Santana thought, gazing at Brittany's smiling face, the crowd behind them blurring into nothingness. Her blue eyes were even brighter under the spotlights, and she looked positively angelic. Brittany was as close to an angel as anyone could get on this Earth.
"Brittany," Santana sobbed one November night over the phone. "I need you…"
"Be there in five," Brittany promised. Even though the shorter girl couldn't see it, she knew Brittany had crossed her fingers over her heart.
True to her word, she showed up five minutes later, climbing in through Santana's second story bedroom window.
"You could've called me," she hiccupped through her tears. "I would've opened the door downstairs for you."
Brittany smiled that smile of hers, a soft, loving, intimate smile that she only used for Santana. "That would have taken more time, silly. You need me."
"My abuelo," she sniffled, burying her head in the crook of her friend's neck. "He's gone."
Brittany smelled like apple body wash, Santana's favorite. It was comforting to her much like the fingers running up and down her back and the feel of Brittany's whispered words against her ear. Heavy sobs were wracking her body, but the blonde held on tight, kissing her forehead in the most intimate of gestures. Santana wouldn't let go of Brittany until four the next afternoon. When they went to see her grandfather, she demanded Brittany go with her because she was part of the family. Brittany borrowed some of Santana's clothes and held her hand the whole time.
The performance ended and there Santana was in Brittany's arms again, breathing heavily and smiling her special 'Brittany only' smile. She took the blonde's hand as the group made their way back stage. Once they got to the green room, she wrapped her arms around Brittany tightly, silent tears lazily making their way down her cheeks. The room gasped, all but Brittany who looked knowingly into Santana's dark eyes.
"You're my firework," Santana told her quietly, leaning in and pressing her lips against Brittany's perfect ones.
"I love you, you know," Brittany whispered against her mouth.
"I love you back, you know," Santana said smilingly into Brittany's lips.
"Oooooooh," said the rest of New Directions, some clapping and some whooping.
Except for Puck who just looked at them, grinning, and said "Man, that's so hot."