The feeling that you have while walking to the club is unfamiliar. Usually, you feel…well you feel nothing. You don't typically care what goes on around you. You're pretty much in your own personal shit storm for the most part.

Tonight though…you feel something. Some kind of purpose. You're not going out with the girls after work tonight because you have things to do. You're not just worried about yourself anymore. You're thinking about buying a couple new blankets because the insulation in your apartment sucks and you don't want Brittany or Emily to get cold. You're thinking about going to the grocery store for the first time in months because they need to eat. You know it's not permanent, but right now it's pleasant feelings. Having purpose instead of just existing.

You pause outside the door of the club and pull out your baggy. Renewed sense of purpose or not, you're fucking tired. You dig in your wallet and extract a credit card. After dipping it onto the bag you bring the powdered covered corner to your nose.

Fuck that burns every time, but it only takes a second to work. You feel the immediate burst of energy. Then you drop the baggy back into your bag and wipe off your nose. Off to work.

Work was mindless and super easy. Your take for the night was smaller than normal, but that didn't matter. You don't typically buy a whole lot of things and you stay in your shithole apartment because it's cheap and you really don't spend a whole lot of time in it anyway. So your bank account is rather substantial. You don't have a car and your only non-apartment expense is your phone. You buy your parents things occasionally, but not enough to make a dent.

You stop by the drug store and grab some breakfast things. Eggs, milk, orange juice, bacon and bread as well as the largest electric blanket you could find. It's almost four by the time you get back so you try to be as quiet as possible. You're right about it getting cold in your apartment. You silently put the grocery bag in the refrigerator and then open the electric blanket. From the light of the perpetually lit business building across the street, coming through the cheap blinds of the apartment window, you can see Emily sound asleep between Brittany in the wall, two blankets on top of her as well as one of your jackets form the closet. Brittany on the other hand is curled up in a ball next to the edge of the bed. She's wearing a pair of your sweat pants and a t-shirt. You resist the urge to touch her just to see how cold she is. Instead you plug in the blanket and drape it over both of them.

A smile flickers on the corner of your lips. You don't know how and you don't know why, but you're glad that Brittany's back. Even if it's just for a week. Instead of the constant hollow ache in your chest, there's a warmth filling the void. She may not be yours anymore, but you're not going to let anything happen to her. You promised her that soon after you first met and you're going to stick to it.

Exhaustion starts to take you over so you kick off your boots and lay on the couch. You lay on the couch and close your eyes for a moment before sitting back up. You didn't trip when you walked over to the couch, which is not something that usually happens. Then you look around and find that your apartment is clean. All the dirty clothes are in the hamper and the kitchen counter is wiped down. All the empty beverage bottles are in the trash and all the dirty dishes are done. Your cigarettes aren't on the coffee table, but a quick sweep of the room and you find them on top of the refrigerator. That's probably so the kid doesn't get into them. You grab your gym bag and put it on top of the refrigerator as well. There's nothing in there the kid needs either.

Finally you lay back down, curl into the back of the couch and drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, you smell breakfast. You're also substantially warmer than you were a few hours ago. And when you move to roll onto your back you find out why. The electric blanket is on you now. After a stretch and a roll of your neck, you roll onto your back. The first person you see is Emily. She's sitting on the coffee table on the opposite end of the TV, watching some kind of kid's show. When she sees you, she smiles and says good morning before turning back to her show.

You sit up and over the back of the couch you can see Brittany in the kitchen. She's dumping the eggs out of the lone pan you have in the apartment onto a plate. Without looking up she says, "Em, do you want orange juice or milk?"

"Milk," the little girl pipes up. When the show goes to a commercial, she slides off the table and runs to the kitchen.

You slowly stand, stretching as you do. When you turn around, you see Brittany looking at you with a smile on her face, "Good morning."

"'Morning," you mumble. You need coffee and you try to remember if you have any coffee anywhere in the apartment, not that it would do you any good. You don't have a coffee makers. You usually just go to the diner and have some there around noon. You check the time and see that you're up two hours earlier than usual.

It doesn't matter. You shuffle to the bathroom and brush your teeth before walking out. Brittany sat Emily on the stool she colored at yesterday and she points to the stool next to it, directing you next to her. When you sit, she slides a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of you with a glass of orange juice. This is quite possibly the best breakfast you've eaten in a year.

The meal is quiet. Brittany is standing on the other side of the counter from you and Emily. You offer her your chair, but she just smiles and shakes her head. When you're all done, Brittany takes the plates and sets them in the sink. You start to get up to do them, but she just refills your orange juice and tells you to sit down.

"What are you two going to do today?" you ask, trying to make conversation.

Brittany shrugs, "We're just going to hang out here until we decide what to do. Unless you want us to leave so you can sleep?"

You shake your head, "No, I'm fine. I am going to run down the street and get some coffee. Do you want one?"

"Sure," she says. "Let me get my purse and I'll-"

"I got it," you tell her and stand up. When you throw on a jacket, the little girl is looking at you. You don't know what to say under her unwavering stare. It's creeping you out a little bit. Finally you sputter out, "Do you want like hot cocoa or something?"

Her eyes move to Brittany who smiles and nods. Then the little girl looks at you and nods her head.

You exhale when she looks back at the TV. You grab your purse and throw it over your shoulder, "I'll be right back."

You smoke a cigarette on the way to the diner and one of the way back. It's a nice contrast to the chilling air outside. When you get back, the dishes are done and Emily is back to coloring. Brittany is sitting on one of the stools looking at your laptop.

You set her coffee next to her. She smiles up at you. Her eyes trap you in place because they're warm and devastatingly familiar. "Thanks San." The nickname stabs you in the heart. You absently bring your hand up to rub your chest as you nod in acknowledgement.

Brittany takes the hot cocoa and takes the lid off, gently blowing on it before she gives it to Emily. The little girl smiles at her and accepts it. Brittany grins back and kisses her forehead. Brittany murmurs something you can't hear to the little girl, but when Emily smiles back and says, "Love you too," you know what she said.

There's something so beautiful about them and the way they interact. Like they were meant to be together.

A ringing interrupts the moment. Brittany looks around and grabs her phone off of the counter. "Hello?...hey…Um…sure, of course…I will-" Brittany bites her lip and surveys Emily then you, "I'll be there…okay. I'll see you then." She hangs up and looks at her phone.

You can tell that she's thinking fairly hard and wants to say something. You sit on one of the stools and look up at her. You want to ask her what's wrong but you can't. So you just watch her and wait.

Finally she looks at you. A nervous smile plays on her lips, "Um, can I ask you a huge favor? I feel really bad and I wouldn't ask if I didn't…I know you work at night and everything…"

"Britt," you stop her. Before you can filter what comes out of your mouth you say, "What do you need?"

"The director of the studio wants me to come in tomorrow," she taps her phone against her palm. Her eyes move to Emily before moving back to you.

"Oh," you nod. She needs you to babysit. You don't know how to babysit. You can hardly sit yourself.

She can sense the shiftiness in your demeanor and she sits down on the stool next to you. You're not sure she noticed that your arms brushed, but you sure did. She sighs, "Don't worry about it. I'll find…someone else."

"No," you can't let her find some stranger to watch the kid just because you're awkward as hell. "I'll-I'll do it."

Her face is relieved and she turns to you sliding off of the stool. Her arms slip around the back of your neck and she hugs you again. She's standing between your legs with her arms around you and all you can hear is the racing of your own heart. She smells so good even though you smell your own shampoo on her, it's just better. She smells so much better.

And before you know it, she feels so much better. Your arms are wrapped around her waist. You swear to god that they did it on their own. Your arms developed a mind of their own and are trying their best to rip your heart out without actually touching you.

"Thank you so much," she whispers in your ear, "I don't know what we would have done without you."

You close your eyes and swallow or at least attempt to. Nothing on your body is working at the moment.

She pulls back and gives you a wide smile. Your arms drop and her face softens. She pulled back, her arms scraping against your shoulders until her hands are resting on the curve of your neck. She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. Then she gives you a gentle squeeze before completely breaking contact.

The rest of the day is serene. You all just hang out and watch cartoons together. You fall asleep on the couch and when you wake up, Brittany's reading to Emily on the bed. Emily is tucked under Brittany's arm, laying into her. You don't want to disturb them so you quietly check her phone for the time. You find that you have to get going so you roll off of the bed and walk to the bathroom to get ready before going to work.

You leave with a half wave to Brittany who is the only blonde still awake. Emily is laying on her side. She smiles softly at you and you duck out before you let it sink in.

You didn't use any kind of 'helper' today before you went into work so you're exhausted when you leave. You forget that you were going to grab some more food on the way home. Instead you just trudge home.

You quietly open the door and put your bag on top of the refrigerator. Brittany and Emily are both asleep under the electric blanket and when you get to the couch, you find a pillow on one end and a blanket folded at the opposite end.

You don't know if it's your lack of sleep or just the pure caring that was put into this, but tears sting your eyes. In the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. A simple gesture of kindness, but it's the first simple gesture of kindness that has been extended to you in years and it hits you even harder that this gesture was offered to you by the one person in your life that you hurt the most.

You lay down and pull the blanket over you. You fight back sobs, but the tears flow freely down your face. You face away from the bed because looking at Brittany would make it that much worse.

You must have fallen sleep at some point because a small pat on your back is waking you up. "I'm hungry."

You rub your eyes, "Huh?"

"Can we eat breakfast?" Emily's small voice asks.

You roll onto your back and see the little girl's blue eyes staring at you. "Oh yeah. Totally." You roll off of the couch. After looking through the damn near empty cabinets and find almost no food left over from yesterday you curs to herself then out loud, "Fuuuck." Then you check to make sure the kid didn't hear you. She probably just did because when you look down next to you, you see the eyes of a hungry little kid. With a heavy sigh you say, "Alright get some shoes on or something. We're going out for breakfast."

So you both sit a tiny table in a restaurant down the street on the patio of a cute breakfast place. "You're not allergic to anything are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, but Brittany's allergic to cabbage."

You sip your coffee and nodded, "I know."

The girl scrunches up her face and tilts her head, "If you're best friends, why did you never come visit us?"

You are so not equipped for this. Especially not so early in the morning. "I was busy."

"What were you doing?" she asks, unraveling the paper napkin that housed her silverware.

You reach across the table and take the knife away, "Working."

"Where do you work?" She asks.

Alright too many questions from the peanut gallery. You quickly change the subject, "What are you going to eat?"

"Pancakes."

"Does Brittany let you eat pancakes?" You can't see why she wouldn't, but you don't want to piss Brittany off or completely fuck up this kid.

"Yeah. She makes the best blueberry pancakes."

You smile and nod. You were there when Brittany learned how to make them. Her mom taught you both at the same time. Never being one for any sort of domesticity, it went in one ear and out the other for you though.

Your eyes flicker to the cigarettes in your purse. Since you're outside you're allowed to smoke, but this kid is right across the table and…you just can't do it.

When the waiter appears, Emily orders for herself then looks at you when you don't say anything. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you ever hungry?"

You roll your eyes and looked at the waiter, "I'll have what the kid is having."

It doesn't take long for the pancakes to arrive which you're grateful for. You don't really have anything to say to the kid and she doesn't seem to have that much to say to you so she's just been ripping her paper napkin into little pieces a look of pure concentration on her face.

After scarfing down about half of her pancakes, Emily states, "These aren't as good as Brittany's."

"I know," you nod. Then you awkwardly ask, "Hey, what are you doing today?" She looks at you weird and you realize how stupid that question was. It's not like she had plans or friends here or money to go anywhere. So you add, "Do you like aquariums?"

"Like fish in a bowl?"

"No like a real aquarium. Big ones with sharks and stuff." Brittany loved them and as far as you can tell this little squirt is pretty much a mini-Britt.

"I've never went to one."

"Really?" You realize that this is a dumb question when she looks at you like you're stupid.

When you walk to the out of the restaurant, the kid takes your hand. It's odd at first because when people touch you now it was usually someone groping you. The little girl's hand isn't the rough, drunken grab you're used to. It's soft and it kinda makes you sad that you don't remember what it feels like for someone to touch you without something wicked on their mind.

Once at the aquarium you pay the prick who apparently never learned not to stare at people tits no matter how magnificent they are. Well unless they're on a pole and you're off of work so he can stop drooling until your shift starts at eight.

"Whoa," the kid says, her nose almost touching the glass.

"It's an angel fish," you inform her with your hands in your pockets.

"Wow," she breathes. Then she jumps and grabs onto your leg. A large ugly fish appears in front of her. You put your hand on her head. You're surprised at how soft her hair is. That again makes you sad because your lack of human contact is now screaming at you and demanding to know what happened to you.

"What was that?" she asks, inching closer to the glass.

"It was an eel."

"It's…ugly."

You nod. Definitely ugly.

You move along from tank to tank looking at every fish and reading each plaque to her.

If you hadn't been sleeping with Brittany when this kid was born, you'd swear she belonged to her. They have the same wide-eyed fascination with the world. Well, you haven't see Brittany's face light up since she showed up at your door, but before you left Ohio, Emily's a dead ringer for little Brittany.

"Can we get a stuffed animal for Brittany?" and you see the Brittany in her again. Instead of getting something for herself. She wants to get one for Brittany.

"Sure."

When you get home, the child is asleep and heavy as hell carrying up the stairs. You take her to the bed and lay her down. You're so ready to lay down yourself.

But when you turn around to the couch, you find something you definitely didn't expect. Brittany is laying on the bed, wiping the tears away from her red eyes.

You don't know what to say so you awkwardly offer, "We had a long day." You pause with one hand in your pocket, the other clutching the souvenir from the aquarium, "Did something happen today at work?"

She shakes her head and sniffles, "No. Work was fun. This is…nothing." She sits up all the way, her legs crossed. Her eyes drift to the stuffed dolphin in your hand, "Where did you go?"

"Breakfast then the aquarium," you offer, unsure of what else to say.

She nods and stands. You figure she's going to lay down on the bed so you step back from the couch. But when she gets near you, her arms slide around your neck. She's hugging you and your body reacts before your brain can. Your arms encircle her waist, betraying you again.

"Thank you so much," she whispers, "I was so scared that you wouldn't even want to see me."

You didn't at first, but she's Brittany and she had a kid with her. You're cold, but you're not heartless. Kid or not it's not like you'd ever throw her out anyway. Your hands resting on the small of her back tingle so you pull away, "No problem."

She sits back down on the couch and you can tell she wants you to sit with her. You leave a whole cushion between you because you're still tingling. "When I told the director where I was living, he told me that they usually pay to have their dancers move and didn't know that I hadn't gotten that so he gave me a check."

"Oh yeah?" you ask.

She nods, her hair falling into her face. When she pushes it back she says, "I found an apartment."

"Really?" you choke out. You knew they were going to move, but you didn't know it was going to be this soon.

She draws her knees to her chest and rests her chin one of them. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you if I moved into this building first."

"This building?" you ask in complete disbelief.

She nods, "I already looked at it and it's really nice."

"Nice in this building?" you quirk an eyebrow.

Brittany chuckles, "Yeah." Her smile fades and she looks sad again, "I just didn't want to move far from you."

You run a hand through your hair. "I, uh…yeah that's cool. Do you need help with your stuff?"

"No. I already moved it," she grins mischievously, "There's no furniture yet, but I'm going to go get some tomorrow."

"Oh okay," you look down at your lap, "Well you know…you can stay here for like…as long as you need."

"Thank you Santana. I couldn't have done this without you."

You shrug her off, "Yes you could have." You stand up and grab your bag off the top of the refrigerator, "I just remembered. I have to go do something before work." She watches you and says bye before you can escape.

You knew this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. It took you less than three days for you to get attached to her again and you're so pissed at yourself for allowing it. And now she's moving out and it sucks.