DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, etc. etc. Brittana of course; slightly AU I guess. BRITTANA! Or SANTITTANY! Whichever you call them :D

TWO:

She woke up warm. The sun beams filtered in through her curtains, splaying gently over Brittany's skin. The blonde's hand was comfortably slung across her stomach and her head was tucked into Santana's neck, body curled into hers. Santana smiled and closed her eyes. She had to savor this moment. It was perfect. Until those fingers draped over Santana's side slid to her stomach and started writing letters. Santana's heart dropped to her stomach, following Brittany's fingers.

F. O. O. D.

Santana suppressed a smirk and kept her eyes closed. Brittany, without moving her head or body, said "Pancakes if you want to get explicit."

"Specific," Santana corrected. She felt Brittany's smile rather than saw it.

"I know what I said, San," the blonde laughed. As an afterthought she added "With Nutella."

"Brat," Santana shot back as she slid from her friend's warm body. Brittany's laughter followed her as she padded downstairs to the kitchen.

She would do anything for Brittany. Any silly little thing. Once, Brittany asked if they could make the beaded necklaces from her colorfully and very organized bead kit. She wanted each of them to wear the other's name on it. Santana protested weakly for about two minutes before she succumbed to the blonde's wishes. It was almost disgusting how much she wanted everything the blonde had to offer; it was almost disgusting how hard Brittany got her to fall for her. Santana Lopez did not fall for anyone. Except Brittany S. Pierce who had her red string wrapped around her little finger.

"Okay, we are not skipping class today so get your ass out of bed," Santana rolled her eyes. "Britt."

"Sannnnn, I don't wanna go!" the blonde pouting, sticking out her lower lip cutely. Santana found herself biting her lip and trying not acquiesce.

"We have to," she said. "For Glee club."

"Oh right!" Brittany said brightly as she threw off the covers and began changing quickly into some of Santana's clothes.

Santana strove to not let the warmth creeping up her cheeks show, but she was failing miserably. She could feel the heat radiating like some neon sign telling the world, namely Brittany who was her world, that she was in love with the taller girl. Turning her face away, she slid some jeans and her favorite concert tee Brittany had bought her at the last one they went to. She grinned as she remembered that night. Rocking out alongside her had made Santana's year.

"Don't forget your Cheerios bag," Santana reminded her.

"I don't have it," she answered.

"What?"

"Oh that," Brittany smiled slightly, her 'Santana, you're going to be so mad at me' smile. "I quit Cheerios."

"What?" Santana's heart dropped to her feet. She loved spending time watching Brittany get all sweaty and… She shook her head and corrected herself. I love spending time watching Brittany move. Wait! No, nothing sounds right. My freaking brain is a damn pervert.

"You're mad," Brittany observed, quietly walking over to her and rubbing her fingers against Santana's cloth-covered shoulder. "Please don't be mad at me, S…"

"Brittany," she sighed. And then trembled as Brittany's fingers stroked the skin just under her ear. "I c-can't be mad at you."

"You're disappointed then," she said just as softly.

"I'm just disappointed that we won't be spending that time together," the shorter girl admitted. She wanted Brittany's fingers to go away so she could think straight.

"San-"

"I'll quit the Cheerios too," Santana said rashly. But I have to tell Coach quick before I freak out and change my mind. Ugh, this is such a big decision. She looked at Brittany's beautiful, soft smile and linked pinkies.

Maybe it's not such a big decision after all.

But it was. Coach Sylvester flipped her shit. Santana cringed and cowered for two hours while Sue berated her for every ounce of worth she thought she had. There was a bright spot, and of course it was Brittany who was waiting for her outside of Coach's office. She took Santana's hand and led her to the empty Glee room, patting her hair and soothing her with her wonderfully sweet Brittany words. Santana let her head drop onto Brittany's shoulder; they stayed that way until Glee rehearsal started.

"Santana, are you okay?" Mr. Schuester asked them as he walked in the room.

"Fine," she said, hiding her face on Brittany's shoulder. "I just don't feel well."

"If it's okay, Mr. Shue, I'll bring her home," the blonde offered as she passed her fingers through Santana's hair softly.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said. He dropped a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder. "Feel better okay? I was hoping you'd both do another solo next time."

"Don't listen to Coach," she said softly, sliding her hand into Santana's. "It'll be okay."

"I l- thanks, B," Santana said finally. She immediately hated herself for not telling Brittany what she really wanted to say. "Are you going on your date with Jayson tonight?"

Brittany squeezed her hand and smiled. "Not if you don't want me to, S. I think I can tell him that it'll have to wait until Saturday or Sunday. You're more important to me anyway. He has to accept that!"

Santana smiled, but that feeling in the pit of her stomach sank and started trying to tear its way out of her body. She didn't want him to only have to wait until Saturday or Sunday. She never wanted him touching Brittany, or kissing Brittany, or… Or loving Brittany. Brittany was hers. Even if she never said it out loud; she shouldn't have to. She was Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce was hers.