"Just call me Brittany." Brittany smiled sheepishly. "Doctor makes it sound like I save people's lives when I only went to a few extra years of school."

"You're Dr. Pierce?" Santana said more to herself than to Brittany. She looked up at Brittany again, unbelieving. "But you're so young."

"Well, not that young." Brittany grinned.

"You're the gazillionaire?"

"Um." Brittany pinched her lips. "I'm not sure. I don't think gazillion is an actual amount."

"Jesus Christ." Santana put her hand to her forehead. "I don't believe this."

Brittany smiled knowingly again, as if people working for her harass her regularly. "What's so hard to believe?"

"You're just—you're so pretty," Santana blurted.

"Thank you," Brittany said with a laugh. "You're really pretty, too."

Santana almost fainted. Here she was, with the unbelievably rich arts benefactor, who also happened to be her client, who also happened to be blonde and drop dead gorgeous with the body of a Victoria's Secret model, and they were telling the other how pretty they were?

"So, are you going to tell me your name now?" Brittany's eyes twinkled again. How did she do that?

"Santana." She cleared her throat. "Santana Lopez."

"Oh! The Santana Lopez of Lopez Designs. What a pleasure."

"T-thank you."

"It's kind of late to be working though, isn't it?"

"I just, I fell asleep."

"Oh?"

Santana rolled her eyes as she explained, "I had some wine, and, well, you know…"

Brittany grinned. "Yes, I understand."

"And you? It's kind of late to be checking out your new place?"

"I'm not too keen on showing my face at places where I could be photographed, you know?" She winked.

"Yeah, of course."

"Well, Santana? I can call you Santana, right?"

"Yes, definitely!"

"You know this place better than me, Santana." The name dripped off Brittany's tongue. It made Santana shudder. "Are there any beds ready?"

"Um, yes, there's actually one in the first guest room. The others arrive in a few days."

"Hm." Brittany looked disappointed. Then she said, "Well, it's late, and there's a perfectly good bed waiting for you in the guest room, Santana."

"Oh, thank you. But what about you, Dr. Pierce?"

"Brittany."

Santana smiled. "Brittany."

"I'll find something. No worries. Now please, make yourself at home."

Santana stayed at her spot, still unsure.

"Good night, Santana," Brittany said with a firm smile.


She wasn't having one. A good night. Santana rolled to one side then to the other. She put the pillow over her head then hugged it in fetal position. She pulled the sheets up to her chin then kicked them off the bed. While normally she would attribute this sleeplessness to a new bed, Santana knew there was something more in this particular occasion.

That something being a crazy rich, crazy beautiful, crazy adorable woman without a bed to sleep in tonight. Santana sighed once more and finally slid out of the bed. She wrapped her scarf around her shoulders and set out to look for Brittany. Considering the size of the house, this could take some time.

When Santana found her, Brittany was cuddled up on a tiny couch in the living room with a throw over her body. Guess it wasn't only Santana who found it cold tonight.

"Hey," Santana whispered when she was just a foot or two away. "Brittany?"

Brittany rolled over and opened one eye. "Yeah?"

Santana smiled. Brittany's tousled hair was the perfect combination of cute and fucking sexy. "I feel bad leaving you here on the couch."

"I'm fine," Brittany said. She sat up and straightened out her shirt.

"I just—this is your house, you know. Please take the guest room."

"No, no, no. You're my guest, so you take the guest room."

"I can't fall asleep knowing you're cramped on this tiny couch."

"Aw. But don't worry about me. I've had worse."

"Still. Please, Brittany."

"Santana, we're not arguing about this anymore. Go back to your bed!"

"What about this? We can share the bed."

Brittany seemed to ponder the idea for a moment, but she shook her head again. "The bed's tiny, Santana. Seriously, I'm fine."

"Brittany…"

Brittany waved her hands to shoo Santana away. "Good night, Santana."

"All right," Santana sighed. She turned to go but stopped after a few steps. She raised an eyebrow at Brittany, a good-natured grin on her face. "What if I told you I couldn't sleep alone?"


"So…you were right." Santana stared up at the ceiling. Her arms were tucked tightly into her body. "This bed is pretty tiny."

Brittany laughed. "Yep."

"I hope this isn't weird for you. I kind of made you sleep here with me, didn't I? Oh, God, this is so inappropriate now that I think about it."

"Relax, Santana. You're fine."

"All right, if you say so," Santana muttered.

"Is this helping you fall asleep at all?"

"No, not really."

"I thought you couldn't sleep alone."

"Yeah, but I don't usually have people like you sharing a bed with me."

"People like me?" Brittany turned her head to face Santana. She seemed offended.

"I don't mean it in a bad way! I mean, you're very important and really pretty, and it's just kind of overwhelming."

Brittany chuckled. "To be honest, I'm a little uncomfortable, too."

"Seriously? I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here anyway." Santana threw the blanket off her body and was halfway out of the bed.

But Brittany caught her wrist. "I mean, you're smoking hot, and it's kind of overwhelming for me, too."

Santana blushed. Then she coughed, trying to hide her speechlessness.

"Can I ask you a question? You have to give me an honest answer though."

"Um, sure."

"Would it be completely inappropriate for me to, say, kiss you right now?"

Santana's heartbeat sped up about 3,000 times. She noticed Brittany still had her wrist in her hands, and Brittany's eyes had all of a sudden switched from sweet to full-on smoldering.

"It's totally fine if you think we shouldn't," Brittany added. "I just thought, well, I just wanted to." Brittany gave her a guilty childlike grin.

When Santana finally found her voice, she said, "Uh, no, not…inappropriate at all."

"Awesome." Brittany tugged at Santana's wrist, and the next thing Santana knew, she had landed on the bed with Brittany's legs at either side of her hips, and Jesus Christ, Brittany's lips were soft.