Yeah! Hello, everyone! Okay, this is one long author's note again, but yeah, you can skip it, but I recommend that you'd read this.

First of all you are so, so amazing for all the reviews you left for me and I really, really love you guys for it. I mean, you guys made my day! Yep, thank you very much, you beautiful creatures of this planet.

Second, I made this update for all of you, readers, yes, you and the person who sits beside you. I did this because I really love you guys, and you really inspire me. Your reviews just keep me up, through all the hard times and the state of this fan fiction.

So, this is another part of the 'holding on' stance I had been establishing ever since Brittana broke up. But, don't worry, and don't give up on our babies.

Let's stay golden and hold on for Brittana! Yayy!

I love you awesome people. xx

"Brittany?" Santana managed to ask her again.

"Hey, are you going to just stand there and just look at each other or you, blonde take my order?" a big burly man from across the room. This effectively snapped Brittany back to the reality she was in.

The reality that she was looking at Santana, and she just noticed the Latina was beautifully made-up, her trench coat from Chanel, and suddenly another lump rose in her throat, this time, it was way bigger.

Because she knew Santana Lopez was way out of her league right now. It's pretty clear that Santana had been doing well, and making big money herself.

"Jess," Brittany called to the other woman and tilted her head.

"Okay, what's your order?" Jess faced Santana and Brittany quietly slipped to the big burly man. She took the man's order and went up to Damian, another employee in the coffee shop and asked for a chai latte and ran back to the man.

"I want a cup of espresso," Santana scowled at Jessica. "And I want to talk to one of your employees, may she sit with me?"

"What would you want with Brittany?" Jessica asked.

"I need to talk to her. Don't worry, I'll pay you with a compensation," Santana cocked her head arrogantly, telling Jessica that she's pulling the bitch card now and there's a dire need of backing off. Jessica got the message and rushed to Brittany, who was behind the counter already.

"And have a cinnamon latte, too," Santana said, a little louder so Jessica can hear.

"Britt, she's wants to talk to you," Jessica announced. "She asked for an espresso, and a cinnamon latte."

Brittany fumbled the hem of her blouse. She doesn't want to talk to her, well, she wanted to, but she doesn't know how, or why or what or how their talk would go. The last time they talked was six years ago and it did not end up good. They ended with goodbyes.

"Here, take it. Go," Jessica coaxed her to go to Santana. The brunette was calmly tapping her red-painted nails on the booth's table and was warily looking around the room.

Brittany took a deep breath and took the tray of espresso and cinnamon latte to her ex-girlfriend.

She awkwardly stood by the side of the booth and looked at Santana. "Here's your coffee, ma'am."

"Oh, please, Brittany," Santana threw a chuckle.

She never called Brittany by the full name.

Brittany swallowed thickly as she set the coffees on the table. She could feel herself being watched, and by that she could feel that Santana was watching her.

"Sit," Santana said quietly. "Brittany, we need to talk."

Brittany took the opposite side of the table. She fiddled her right ring finger with her left thumb and left index finger and Santana smiled as she watched Brittany fiddle her fingers.

"You haven't changed, Britt," Santana smiled wistfully. She looked up to Brittany. "Take the cinnamon latte. They're your favourite."

As she took the lid of the cup, Brittany caught a glimpse into Santana's eyes. It was one thing she had always wanted to avoid doing while talking to her – looking into Santana Lopez's eyes. But she did anyway, and Brittany had almost regretted it instantly.

She saw sadness in them. Just plain sadness that even Brittany could feel the hurt in them. It was then Brittany felt so guilty. She felt so guilty because she had not tried hard enough to find Santana in New York.

"Are you okay, Britt?" Santana leaned forward and examined Brittany's eyes. "You look kind of sick, you know."

"I'm okay, Santana."

"So, how were you and your life?" Santana asked. "Did you get to Julliard?"

Brittany stopped there for a moment. She can't let Santana know what had happened to her. What if Santana would know, and then sneer at her? She can take other people sneering at her, but if Santana does that, then she can't take it. Even if Santana could never be hers again, if Santana would reject her and look down at her, it would break her.

"I got in," a soft reply came from Brittany's mouth.

"Wow, I am so proud of you, Brittany," Santana smiled, although it was something of a sad smile.

"I dropped out, Santana," Brittany said, her head bent low and was staring hard at a speck of dust on the tile floor. She can't look at Santana when she's lying. She can't. And she can't bear to see Santana's face deflate out of disappointment.

And she can't let her know.

"Oh. Sorry. Anyways, I am in town so maybe, maybe we should catch up on things. I haven't seen another gleek from high school in like three years or whatever. So maybe, we could catch up?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, sure," Brittany said, not really thinking it over. Suddenly a wad of table napkin was waved in front of her.

"Call me," Santana smiled. "I really missed you."

"Me too, Santana. I missed you. You and all the glee clubbers, I missed you," Brittany smiled.

"Walk me outside? I just arrived in New York today and I am so tired, maybe this weekend or something, you know, we could catch up," Santana gave out a genuine smile.

"Yeah, sure," Brittany found herself answering and standing up as well. She and Santana walked to the door and out into the parking lot. Brittany's assumption of Santana being filthy rich was now confirmed as the Latina walked to a sleek, black BMW and opened the car door.

"Brittany," Santana said, taking the blonde's hand into hers. "I hope nothing has changed in our friendship. If you need me, you've got my number, so please, don't ever hesitate to call."

Brittany just nodded, wanting this whole thing to get it done with. Santana smiled then leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek before she got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Brittany, on the other hand, quickly walked back to the restaurant.

"Who was that lady?" Jessica asked as Brittany stepped behind the counter. "She looked like a filthy richie bitch cut straight from a magazine and walked to life."

Brittany was too tempted to say, 'she's my ex-girlfriend' but she thought better of it. So she just smiled. "We went to high school together and we were in the same cheer squad."

"Wow," Jessica smiled softly, knowing that Brittany wasn't going to share anything more.

Brittany's shift ended a couple of hours after the incident and she was heading home already. And she sat on her same seat as always. It was the same thing, the same bus she had always ridden on, the same kind of people, same sleepy faces. But today wasn't the same. It's never the same.

Today, Brittany did not try to look at people's faces.

Brittany was set on thinking on what would Santana say and think if she'd find out that she already had an almost four-year old child.

Her social status had always meant something for her. It hurts Brittany to see Brook look at the things she wanted to buy, but money wasn't that easy to pass, so Brook grew up knowing they did not have enough.

She arrived at their apartment and she set down her things, prepared Brook's stuff for school and she ran the bath water right after Mrs. Cole had left. She looked at Brook sleeping soundly and she looked at the time. She had to wake Brook up if they don't want to be late.

"Hey, hey, sleepyhead, wake up…" Brittany shook the little girl.

"Mom?" the little girl rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Hey, sweetie, it's time to wake up and get ready for school," Brittany smiled at her daughter.

"Okay," the child scurried to the bathroom to pee. Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door and Brittany stood up to open it.

When she did, she gasped in surprise.

"Hi," Santana's face was split in half because of her smile. "I brought breakfast."

"Hi," Brittany smiled curtly, and Santana immediately noticed the tensed, rigid thin line on Brittany's lips and Santana's shoulders immediately sagged, her smile leaving her pretty face.

"Am I…am I interrupting, something?" Santana's voice seemed to be so constricted that it hardly got out of her.

"Mom," Brooklyn came wailing into the living room and she stopped in her tracks when she saw Santana by the doorway. Brittany's face was mortified and looked at Santana, and then she looked down at her feet.

"She's yours?" Santana looked at Brittany, who hung her head lowly. The disbelief was in Santana's voice, and Brittany had visions of Santana telling her how disappointed she was with her, maybe with a couple of swearing and scoffing and insulting from the Latina thrown her way. Maybe the word 'whore' or 'slut' would come around.

"Yeah," Brittany managed out and she looked at Santana, expecting a sneer from the Latina.

"She's not from Sam, is she?" Santana asked with a terrified tone, and then she chuckled. "Sorry, I know she isn't. I can't find the resemblance. Besides, she's way too beautiful to be from Trout."

Brooklyn smiled at Santana, a smile which Santana also returned to the younger Pierce. "Hello, stranger," Brook waved her hand.

"Hello, beautiful girl. My name is Santana. You are so beautiful," Santana kneeled down, and smiled at Brittany. "She looked just like you."

Brittany stood rooted to the floor. She hadn't seen Santana scoff or sneer or Santana wasn't taken aback. Instead, here was her ex-girlfriend, kneeling in front of her daughter and was actually calling her daughter beautiful.

If she had known Santana, she could have thrown a fit over her already.

"What's your name?" Santana asked the little girl, who was now hugging Brittany's right leg.

"Brook…yn" the child babbled. It was the first actual time an adult had spoken to her with such attention, well, save for her Mommy.

"Brook-what?" Santana's forehead scrunched due to the confusion.

"Her name is Brooklyn," Brittany answered silently.

"Tana," Brooklyn smiled, all teeth shown. She then held her hand for a high-five, to which the Latina complied.

"Hey, Brook," Santana said, effectively catching the young girl's attention. "We can eat breakfast together, would it be okay?"

Brook's nose scrunched and she stuck out her tongue, as if she was thinking hard. Santana smiled at the sight, because Brook acted so much like Brittany.

"Get inside," Brittany said as she stepped aside for Santana to enter. Brooklyn followed her newfound friend in the kitchen and Brittany set up the food.

"How did you find me, Santana. How did you know where I was living," Brittany asked as she held out a slice of the pancake for Brook.

"Uhh, I asked," Santana said. "A few people," she quickly added.

"Okay, who are the people you actually asked?" Brittany asked again.

'"I asked Jessica today. Remember that small girl in the coffee shop where you worked? I asked her. I came early this morning out there and asked," Santana forked a piece of raspberry.

"Okay," Brittany said, and her mind was already playing her options on how to murder Jessica Reed.

The meal was soon over and Brittany and Brook were already good to go. It was a cue for Santana to leave, too. Brittany had hoped that the brunette should just leave and forget her but Santana seemed to have other plans for it.

"You know, I'm not really in a rush, so maybe I could just drop you guys," Santana offered.

"Santana, we really don't want to imp-"

"No, Britt, I want to do this. I missed out so much in your lives, you guys were my friends and I just missed out so much so I want to do this," Santana shook her head and looked at Brooklyn for a pep boost. "And don't call me Santana, you don't call me that when we were younger."

"Sorry, San. But, it's more than really what is enough. I mean you done so much alre-"

"No, please…" Brittany could hear the pout on Santana's words.

"Fine," Brittany said. "But just this once, okay?"

"Sure, thanks."

They drove in Santana's BMW and pulled up in front of Brooklyn's school. Everyone turned to look at Brittany and Santana walk out of the car and fetch Brooklyn.

Brittany was holding Brooklyn's bag and Santana had carried Brooklyn to the steps. After settling Brook, the child wave goodbye to Santana and hugged Brittany before skipping happily to the doors.

The ride home was filled with awkwardness as Santana and Brittany just stole glances at each other. More often than once, both would catch each other looking at the other, then they avert their sight to the road or to the trees.

"Where's Brook's dad?" Santana asked out of the blue. "Not that I am sticking my nose into people's businesses, no not that way."

There wasn't an answer from Brittany. Santana grew flustered.

"If you don't want, you really don't have to ans-"

"I was raped."

"What?" Santana accidentally stepped on the brakes, pulling up the road abruptly. "Sorry, what?"

"It's funny," Brittany smiled wistfully as tears were starting to fall from her eyes. "It's funny and ironic and painful and frustrating and tiring."

Santana sat there, watching Brittany – the girl she fell in love with, the lady she's supposed to be marrying, the woman she will love forever, break down in front of her.

"Britt…"

"I told you to leave for New York, and you did. I graduated that year, I got into Julliard. I waited for you Santana, but you weren't there anymore. I started to think you just wanted to stay away. I was lonely. Ever since that October, when you came from Louisville and you…unofficially broke up with me, I felt like there was this gaping hole in my heart. Because you once resided there and you got the key to that door and no one can open it because only you could open it."

Brittany was openly crying and when she felt that the car was to cramming for her, she pulled the lock and opened it, she ran out to the open, out into the road.

"Britt…Britt!" Santana ran after the blonde.

She's not going to let her go, not now, not the second time around.

"I tried so hard to get over you, Santana. I just can't. I made it to my fifth semester and I met Jeremy. He was bubbly, happy and loving. I thought he was the one and I moved in with him. What I didn't know was he was a monster. He beat me up, forced me. And I caught him cheating one day. They were having sex on my bed. I left him that day. A few weeks after I learned that I was pregnant. I got kicked out of Julliard; I had to work for menial jobs. That was my sob story, Santana. I just…I just wished we were together when we were in New York. It would have been a better life. I don't blame you about this, Santana. I understand if you walk away now, if you have a family, I will understand. But please, don't let Brooklyn feel and think you love her if you can't stand by it. Please, Santana. It will break her."

"I love your daughter, Brittany."

"Don't do it, Santana. I had been in those situations before, when people let you believe that they would stay but they fail to do so, because they did it out of compassion and not out of love. Even people who did it out of love had sometimes given up, too."

Santana could not help but feel the pang of pain and guilt and anguish all mixed in together when Brittany said her words. It felt like a slap on the face.

"I would never, ever, ever, leave you Brittany. I'm sorry, I feel that I have my faults in this, too. But if you were to give me another chance, if you were to give me another chance, Brittany Pierce, I would make it up to you, I would make up everything to you and to Brook."

"It's not your fault, Santana. I let you leave. I'm sorry if I failed to believe in us the way I should have believed in us. But what's done was done, Santana. You can't come back to our life anymore. You just don't belong in our lives because we are of different worlds now, Santana."

"Is this because, because I haven't shown up for six years or is this because you are a waitress and I drive a BMW and you're scared of being labelled?" Santana asked, knowing that either answer would hurt her so much.

"It's both, Santana. Look, I don't hate you, I just don't want you to complicate our lives, especially Brooklyn's life. She had been hurt already. She was only born with half of the love she ought to be made with and because of that, she thinks that she is just half a person. She had been bullied and called names. She's a lonely child, Santana. Don't try to paint her a blue sky when in the end, you'll just walk away and turn it to rain, Santana. Don't get her hopes up too high that she can't reach it and she'll fall. Because as much as I wanted to, the last thing I ever wanted to see was Brooklyn to cry and be so sad."

"Come on, Britt. You know I love you. Nothing will change that. Please, give me another chance."

"The things have changed already, Santana. We are not the hormone-driven, alcohol-crazed teens we were before, Santana. Hell, I am already almost twenty-six and so are you. We are adults now," Brittany let out a sad laughter.

Santana looked t Brittany, wondering how much of a changed woman her ex-girlfriend had become. Seeing that it wasn't an argument that was favouring over her, Santana steered the conversation. "Maybe we should just, go home, Brittany."

"Maybe. Maybe we should," Brittany said weakly. She followed Santana back to the car and they sat in silence as they drove through the road.

"I went to Stanford," Santana said.

"You're a doctor?"

"Yeah, seems like it. I worked at the Doctors Without Borders for a year and I studied Business Management for the last twelve months," Santana said and tried to sound as humble as possible.

"I have nothing to brag about," she heard Brittany say.

"Doesn't matter. You're still hot as fuck and you serve coffee like you're dancing," Santana let it slip her mouth and instantly, her face turned red.

"Lopez," Brittany clicked her tongue and smiled. "You never changed."

Santana dropped Brittany off her apartment and she quickly decided for herself.

She's not letting Brittany go. She'll fight for her. She will not give up. She won't do what she did six years ago. Because Brittany is worth everything.

A/N: Anyways, I took the royal and noble deed of posting a picture of how Brooklyn Pierce was supposed to look like. You can view it here in: bonheu-r dot tumblr dot com (/) post (/) 44540742013 (/) hello-there-its-brook (just remove the spaces and the parentheses between the dots and the slashes so you can get it right and also substitute the dot with a {.} ).

xx