Title: California Dreaming
Chapter Title: "I Live Alone, I Do Not Wander"
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: G
Summary: California, it turns out, is not perfect.
Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. Nor is the Dawes song ("So Well") that I stole from for title.
Author's Note: Loosely related to my other Glee fics.

~*~

California, it turns out, is not perfect.

First of all, the parents lay down the law about rooming with each other. Days and weeks of begging and pleading, and the occasional temper tantrum stretch into months of sullen sulking before Santana forgives her parents for insisting on separate rooms in separate dorms, and the Pierces for going along with it. It's not that she didn't understand their reasons—she did—she just thought they were stupid. She had a reasonable counter-argument to each one, after all. But the parents didn't cave. They were worried the girls would isolate themselves too much if they were always together, and not give themselves the opportunity to make new friends and have new experiences independently from each other. Santana's response? "We managed through high school, didn't we?"

Then they were worried that the girls would distract each other away from their schoolwork if they were literally allowed to turn their dorm room into a lesbian den of iniquity, Santana's terminology, of course. (They didn't have a problem with their girls having sex, per se, aside from the normal parental concerns about emotional and health safety. And after several very close calls—and one accident which Mr. Pierce has sworn he will never, ever, ever mention again—the four adults are all very aware that Brittany and Santana's relationship is as much physical as emotional. They just don't think they have to make it that easy for their daughters to have sex.) And they don't want the girls' relationship to distract them from their schoolwork either. Santana's response? "We managed through high school, didn't we?"

At that, Mr. Pierce turned a very amusing shade of pink and started coughing so hard they thought he had swallowed an ice cube from his drink. He didn't say much throughout the rest of the talk.

And then Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Lopez laid out their final concerns. "What if you two get mad at each other and need to spend some time apart? What if you break up? You'd have to spend the rest of the semester, maybe even the whole year, in a very uncomfortable living situation." Santana had no answer for this one, but it was okay because Brittany squeezed her hand and spoke up.

"That's not going to happen," she said firmly. "Santana and I aren't going to break up. We fight sometimes, and sometimes we get mad at each other, but we're not going to break up."

Mrs. Pierce looked softly at her daughter. "I know you two love each other, but sometimes things happen, or people grow apart. We're just trying to look out for you both, and make sure you have everything you might need to handle anything the world might throw at you. And we think this is important, so we're going to insist on it. If you and Santana last for the rest of your lives, and I hope you do, then two years living apart in the dorms will be just a small part of the life you two have waiting for you. I can tell you from experience, no matter how much you love someone, living together is hard. Sharing a space with someone is hard. And before you live with someone, you need to learn how to live on your own. We're not insisting that you two go to colleges on opposite sides of the country, and we know that you'll end up spending most of your time together, in one room or the other, anyway. But we're standing firm on this because we know that in the long run, in your long run, it's for the best. So that's the way it's going to be. Got it?"

Everyone was silent for a moment; of all the adults there, Mrs. Pierce had said the least so far. But when they looked at the girls, they could see that her words were rolling around in two very hard, very stubborn heads. Well, one very hard, very stubborn head at least.

Finally, it was Santana who spoke. "Okay. I get it. You guys think this is a make or break kind of deal. So we're up for it. We'll show you that we can do it. It'll make us, because we won't let it break us. So you get what you want, and in two years, Britt and I will find an apartment together. You win." Deciding that the conversation was as over as it could be, she stood up and headed for the door, Brittany trailing behind her.

The adults shook their heads; leave it to Santana to assume everything was a challenge of some sort or another. The girl still didn't get it, not entirely. But that was okay, because she'd get it in the end. Mr. Lopez was just about to break out some drinks to celebrate the tentative end of what they'd nicknamed "The Santana Standoff" when Brittany came back into the room, looking over her shoulder.

"Hey," she said quietly, "we're going to go swimming at Quinn's house. Santana's upstairs getting changed." The parents looked at her, but weren't sure what she was trying to say. "I just wanted to say that I get it, why you're making us do this. Santana doesn't, she's too scared that we'll lose something, but I do. I just don't think we need it. So, we'll live apart and spend as much time as we can together. And Santana will be scared and I'll have to teach her she doesn't have anything to be scared about. And we'll do it. And maybe you're right, in the long run maybe we'll be better for all of it. But in the right now? It's going to suck, for her more, and then for me because I hurt when she hurts. I just wanted to say that I get it, but if this is what being a grownup means, having to hurt, I really don't know if growing up is worth it."

The blonde girl bounced back out, hearing Santana clomp down the stairs in her flip-flops, leaving four mouths wide open with shock.

Mrs. Lopez recovers first, and heads to the window to watch as the two girls start their walk down the street to the Fabray house, towels draped over their shoulders, and hands clasped tight between them. She shakes her head lovingly, and turns back to the others.

"Sometimes, I think that girl is smarter than all of us. She's so quiet you forget that she's there, and then she comes out and says something, and you realize she's been paying attention all along, and better than you have."

Mr. Pierce smiles and puts his arm around his wife, "She gets it from her mother."

So, when the end of August rolls around, the Lopez family and the Pierce family pack up separate vehicles and drive more than half-way across the country to separate dorms to move their daughters into their separate rooms for the next year. But when they're done, the six (plus Brittany's little sister, of course) meet up for dinner off-campus, and the four parents watching as their daughters talk excitedly about their plans for the week before classes start.

The next morning, as the Pierce and Lopez parents leave their hotel and text the girls that they're on their way to say one final goodbye, they're not at all surprised when their daughters respond telling them to just make their way to Brittany's dorm, even though they all remember dropping the girls off at different buildings the night before. And when they get out of the car, if anyone sees Mr. Pierce slip Mrs. Lopez a twenty-dollar bill, no one says a thing.