This is a shift day. There are two updates today.


"Flight of the Days"

2. Fridays

Brittany hadn't wanted to let Santana go off to work the morning after her fall, especially as she would describe herself as a walking bruise. The side of her leg on which she'd fallen was an entire rainbow of scrapes and bruises, and Brittany had spent most of the night holding on to her so she wouldn't accidentally roll on to her side in her sleep.

"Don't go. I'll stay with you. We can watch movies, and I'll be your nurse."

"Yeah, I'm not sure that's going to end in me relaxing," Santana shook her head. "Besides, it's Triple Friday, I can't skip out on that, especially with the tips."

"Maybe they'll give you more if they see you limping," Brittany frowned.

"There you go," Santana smirked, taking her bag and going up for her goodbye kiss. "See you at the diner?" she asked. Brittany still looked concerned for her, but she breathed out and kissed her.

"Yeah. Please be careful. Tell Jamie not to make you run around too much."

"Oh, I'll park him in front of the television, he won't move a muscle, it's fine. Now go before you're late." She earned herself another kiss, and then they were off. While Santana went to her nanny duties with Jamie, Brittany had three dance classes back to back.

She hadn't even been sure that she would get to have something like this, after what the Maurizio fiasco had cost her, but as it turned out the woman who ran the small school had a 'mutual friend' in the form of Sherry Weston, and one thing had led to another, which now left Brittany heading up a handful of classes. Santana would say she wished she was actually dancing herself, more than teaching, but Brittany would say this was already more than she thought she could manage. She had lost a lot of the feelings she once had for that whole world, but she hoped maybe seeing others love it would help her start to feel it again.

Her Friday classes were with adults and seniors, but she treated every one of them with the same care and attention. She had a soft spot for her seniors class, saying they reminded her of her grandpa Joseph. After her last class was over, she just had the time to shower and change and then she was off to the diner for her waitressing shift.

She arrived before Santana and, already concerned as she was, she would stand by the door, scanning the streets. When she finally saw her coming, limping along, she went off to meet her.

"How are you feeling? Does it still hurt a lot?" she helped her over.

"I got to sit and watch movies all morning, like you wanted, just with a three-year-old. Not so bad, right? Come on, let's get in there, I'm starving."

Once they'd had their lunch, they were on the clock. As suspected, Santana's limp, and the bruise showing from below her skirt, got her a number of clients who asked what had happened. She had made nearly twice as much in tips as she did on a regular day.

"The kid over there, it's his birthday," Brittany had gone to her during her break. "Can we sing to him when I bring him his cake?"

"If we start doing that, we're going to have to do it again and again," Santana wasn't so sure.

"Yeah, and maybe we'll get paid more, too," Brittany pointed out, and Santana smirked.

"Have I told you you're a genius recently?"

"I don't think so," Brittany thought.

"Well, you are."

The birthday boy was very proudly four years old that day, and when the two waitresses came and sang him a cheerful happy birthday, he stared at them in awe the entire length of the song. When his grandmother had asked him to say thank you, he'd gotten up and hugged them each in turn. If Santana was aching at all, she never let it on to him. At the very least, it made them upbeat for the remainder of their shift.

Heading in for her third job of the day was already tiring when she wasn't working on an injury, but Santana was going to be stubborn and work through it, so Brittany would be there to wait for her when she returned. She could have gotten a fake ID as well, but she didn't want to. On this one day though she almost wished she had one. She already wasn't completely on board with her working there, coming home as late as she would. But the money was good, and they needed it, so she would bite her tongue and wait for her to come home.

Some nights she would fall asleep on the couch, waiting for her, but she made it through this time, and the moment Santana came through the door, Brittany was in nurse mode.

"I would have worked barefoot if it was safe," she sighed, kicking off her shoes.

"Is the new guy still dropping glasses?" Brittany asked, fetching the ice.

"Three tonight. If he's still there tomorrow night… He's a work hazard, and he's not even good at the rest of it. Mixes up drink orders so much I had to step in a couple of times."

"Did you say something?"

"I'm already trying not to get too much attention on myself unless they figure out I'm not even allowed in there, I'm not going to get a guy pissed off enough that he might get me fired, too."

"Right. What if someone called? An anonymous tip? I'll do it," Brittany volunteered, and Santana smiled.

"We'll keep that as our backup plan, alright? But tomorrow night…"

"Tomorrow night, I can be there," Brittany smiled back. "The stamp always takes so long to wash off."

"Yeah, that's kind of the idea."

"I'm letting you sleep in later tomorrow morning, you need all the sleep you can get."

"Yes, Nurse Pierce. Can I have my check up now?" she asked innocently.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)