A/N: First, I'd like to thank everybody who gave this fic a shot, especially since I know genderswap isn't exactly everybody's cup of tea. To be honest, not one chapter of this fic went with what I had originally intended it to be (they were all supposed to be just fluffy works 8k words max). But nevertheless I'm kinda happy with how they've turned out, especially since this fic was my sort-of way of answering why Brittany and Santana are soulmates.
Second, the last chapter is going to be split into two, because of the content (but this I'll explain on the next part), and also because I can't write as much anymore due to some problems in RL. That said, I don't know when I'll be able to finish the 2nd part.
Third, I really appreciate the reviews and once things have lightened up, I'll reply to them. I've posted some one-shots from the other SSTS-verses in my tumblr (turtleduckie) and if you guys have questions or what-not, you can reach me there.
We'll Rewrite All the Wrongs We Learned
Brittany Pierce x Santana Lopez
Part I
"Stare at me again and I'm going to claw your eyes out."
Had it been two or three years ago, Brittany would be cowed by such an overtly hostile response to her politely interested stare. But she was already fifteen and in high school, and has experienced every form and manner of ridicule and hostility her whole life that encountering it now no longer had the same effect on her.
Besides, the girl was really really pretty.
(Not that Brittany thought that being pretty excuses bad behavior.)
When Brittany didn't run away or look away or even just freaking look scared at the threat, the girl glared at her one last time, before huffing and turning away. She began muttering something to herself in a language that Brittany didn't understand.
Cool, maybe this girl has her own secret language, too—Brittany made her own back when she was still in middle school (and this wasn't like the pig Latin that some of her peers used; hers was of a more sophisticated, high calibre level that she herself sometimes had trouble deciphering). She had been trying to crack the code that her cat, Lord Tubbington, has been using in his drug-dealing business, and she figured that she could trick him into fessing up his crimes and thus effectively end his shady career, and making legal and respectable jobs an option for him once more.
But anyway.
Brittany let her eyes trail after the pretty girl until she disappeared into the school building. She didn't know for how long she had been standing there, staring, but she snapped out of her thoughts as somebody stopped beside her and spoke up.
"She's a fiery one, isn't she?" Brittany looked around and saw her fellow Cheerio, Quinn Fabray, eye the retreating figure of the dark-haired girl.
"Yeah."
"Santana Lopez from Lima Heights Adjacent. She just moved here the other day and apparently impressed Coach Sylvester so much that she got into the squad even if the tryouts have already been over." Quinn paused for a moment. "What do you think of her?"
"She's really pretty."
Quinn let out a scoff. "I'm not asking for your assessment of her physical appearance, Brittany. I'm asking what you think of her skills as a Cheerio."
Brittany bit the inside of her cheek as she let the sting of the veneer of condescension in Quinn's voice wear away. She knew that Quinn didn't mean to be mean to her, well, at least not as much as other people; this was just the way Quinn was, beautiful but jagged around the edges, like a glass shard.
(Cold and unapologetic, but not always out of malice.)
"She can really hold her own, with the stunts. She's got more flexibility than most girls in the squad, and really graceful, too. Though she still doesn't me beat me in those areas. I'm still the best," said Brittany in her flat, matter-of-fact way of speaking.
A faint shadow of a smile appeared on Quinn's lips before disappearing in the blink of an eye. "All right. I think she's going to be a good addition to our team."
"But I thought she's already on the squad?"
"Our team, Brittany. The top girls. You know, the one that's just composed of you and I?"
Brittany couldn't help but beam at that. "She's going to be our friend? That would be really cool!"
Quinn narrowed her eyes, before the corner of her mouth lifted up in a smirk. "Yeah, she's going to be our friend. Now let's go get changed."
Brittany let Quinn lead the way across the field and towards the part of the school building where the Cheerios' locker room was. After the first week of being in the squad, Quinn had made it a point to not be at the locker room when the other Cheerios were around, like she was trying to mark out the difference between her and them, building out this image of her being untouchable, unknowable. And Brittany, being Quinn's 'friend,' soon found herself staying back in the field with her after practice, either doing an extra lap or planning out together how to interact with their teammates and with other significant personages at school. Not that she minded it too much.
When they entered the locker room, it was already empty save for one or two stragglers who were already dressing up to leave. Brittany went to her locker and grabbed her towel, slinging it over her shoulders, and then retrieving her toiletries. Quinn had already went ahead, never the type to stay and talk when it didn't have anything to do with getting the top spot in the Cheerios, and by extension, the school.
Brittany let out a small sigh as she headed towards an empty shower stall. After hanging her towel, she turned on the shower and let the hot water sear her skin in those first few moments before it became soothing, in a way that nobody else was to her.
Brittany knew that Quinn only made the attempt to befriend her because Brittany was the best dancer in the squad, outshining even the upperclassmen. From the get-go, it was obvious that Quinn was a driven, ambitious girl who always played her cards right. She would keep all potential rivals close, instead of antagonizing them (not that Brittany wanted the top spot anyway)—and the others, well, she didn't deem them worthy of her time. So even if Quinn's intentions were far from being rooted in a feeling of warm companionship, Brittany didn't mind. She'd take this semblance of friendship, which was a shade more genuine than the ones that she had been exposed to before.
The image of the girl that was the subject of her and Quinn's earlier conversation flashed through Brittany's mind. If Brittany was going to be completely honest, she didn't really think the girl was pretty; she thought that she was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. The girl had the darkest hair Brittany had ever laid eyes on, almost like it was spun out of the threads from the tapestry of black moonless nights, and the girl's eyes burned with so much life and energy like they have taken the fire from the sun. She had a dusky complexion, her skin glowing in a way that reminded Brittany of the bronze statues she saw in one of the out-of-town museum trips her family sometimes made.
(Looking at this girl made Brittany remember the first dreams she had dreamed, dreams that she had never seen again since.)
These features, isolated, were enough to warrant an admission of her beauty, but what really made this girl stand out was the way she carried herself—not with the cool aristocratic collectedness that Quinn did, but with such smoldering defiance and the unspoken challenge she sent out to anyone who looked at her.
Whenever Brittany was around the girl, her body would tingle all over, like electricity was flowing from that girl to her.
It made Brittany want to get even closer to her, to touch her skin in order to find out if the current would be stronger. Just the mere thought gave her a thrill.
When Brittany had stepped out of the shower, she had already sorted things out in her head.
She was going to make Santana Lopez her friend.
xxx
Quinn was very efficient in the way that when she said that she'd do something, she'd have it done immediately.
The very next day, before the start of the Cheerios morning practice, Quinn beckoned to Brittany to follow her into the corner of the field where the girl with dark eyes was doing her stretches all by herself. When they were near enough and it was apparent to the girl that she was their intended target, she looked up towards them, her eyes narrowing in suspicion and her lips pressed together in a thin line.
"We'd like to talk to you."
The girl's eyes slid from Quinn to Brittany and back again, as if assessing them both. "What about?" she asked in a bored tone, though Brittany noted that her entire body had tensed up.
"We want to be friends with you so that we can be like the Three Blind Mouseketeers," Brittany blurted out. "Or the Roman Triumvirate. Or Triple Chocolate Decadence." Then after a beat, she added, "It's really delicious."
Two pairs of eyes snapped towards her, green ones of annoyance and brown ones of confusion.
"Britt!" Quinn hissed, grabbing her by the elbow and tugging her away until they were out of the girl's earshot. "What was that?"
"But that's what you said yesterday. You said we're going to make her our friend."
Quinn closed her eyes as she rubbed her temple. "Look, why don't you just go wait near the bleachers while I go talk to her. Alone."
Brittany looked at Quinn for a moment before answering in a small voice. "Okay."
She watched as Quinn approach the girl again and they started talking. The girl glanced at her with her usual burning gaze, making Brittany's breath catch. She hastily turned away before she did something that would irk Quinn again. She made her way to the bleachers and sat there alone, even as the other Cheerios were grouping together just a few feet away. She fixed her gaze on the two figures she had just left, partly out of curiosity and interest, and partly so that she wouldn't be too consumed by the thought of how even now she still felt acutely how she was excluded in most circles. But even as she tried to keep this thought at bay, she couldn't help but wonder that the dark-eyed girl was also keeping her distance from the other Cheerios.
(She wondered if the girl was doing it on purpose, like Quinn, or if she wasn't, like Brittany.)
For the other people looking, Brittany supposed that Quinn and the girl were just simply talking, but for her, it was quite obvious that a battle of wills was taking place. Quinn had drawn herself to her full height, even though she was only taller than the girl by an inch, while the girl had her arms crossed across her chest. Even from this distance, Brittany could sense the tension between the two.
As they were talking, the girl kept on glancing at Brittany and once, she even jerked her head towards her direction. Brittany felt her stomach do flip-flops at the thought that the girl, who seemed to have electricity in her veins instead of blood, was talking about her. She wondered what Quinn was saying, and she could only hope that her friend was saying good things about her. She didn't realize that she started tracing circular patterns on the pleats of her skirt (which was a nervous tick of hers).
Then finally, after what seemed like a long while, the two girls seemed to have agreed on something since the dark-eyed girl gave a curt nod and they were now walking towards Brittany, with Quinn wearing a triumphant smirk on her face. The girl's face was carefully guarded but nevertheless, when they were near enough, Brittany jumped down from her seat on the bleachers and said excitedly, "Unholy Trinity!"
Looks of confusion greeted her outburst so she hastily added, "I think that's what we should call ourselves."
Quinn narrowed her eyes. "That's stu—"
"Good enough," the girl cut in, her voice still maintaining that bored cadence.
(In spite of this, Brittany felt her heart flutter.)
When the girl saw Quinn's raised eyebrow, she just shrugged. "Well, better than Top Girls. Which is A: grossly unimaginative, and 2: wanky."
Quinn blushed. "Whatever. Just keep in mind that we're going to rule this squad and as such, we must behave accordingly."
"Yeah yeah," said the girl, rolling her eyes in turn. Quinn cast a sharp look in her direction before making her way towards the other Cheerios, leaving the two of them alone.
"I'm Brittany, by the way," said Brittany, holding out her hand. The girl eyed it for a moment, before her eyes flickered to Brittany's face. When their eyes met, Brittany felt all her breath squeezed out of her body. She had seen before that this girl's eyes were of a beautiful shade of brown, what she would imagine mahogany tree trunks would look like if they were made of glass, but she never realized how beautiful they were, how even as they looked so fragile and so ready to break, they still managed to burn.
It was like a pair of cox. Or parade docks. Or whatever that was their English teacher said.
Brittany had been too caught up staring that she didn't notice that the girl had slowly raised her own hand to grasp Brittany's. But at the last second, the girl stopped short and she hastily broke the eye contact.
"Santana," she said gruffly before turning around.
Time seemed to have flowed again and Brittany breathed. She blinked a few times before realizing that she still had her hand outstretched. She lowered it and despite the slight pinching in her heart at the thought that the girl refused to shake her hand, she couldn't help but think that it wasn't an outright rejection.
She watched the girl join Quinn with the other cheerleaders as they began to line up for practice, still letting the moment sink in. A small smile played on her lips as she made her way to the group.
For the first time since she joined the squad, Brittany found herself looking forward to the practice and all Cheerio events.
xxx
Even though Santana was hanging out with Quinn and Brittany nowadays, she still kept much to herself, rarely talking to them. She performed the motions required of her, that of making scathing remarks to other students and executing stunts perfectly during practice.
Brittany wanted so bad to be able to talk to her but Santana seemed to make it her goal to avoid any and every opportunity to be alone with her. Brittany would keep watch for any chance to be by Santana's side—during lunch time, before and after practices, in between classes—but Santana seemed to be part-weasel; she always managed to slip away.
Santana would cling to Quinn's side whenever the three of them were together. It kind of made Brittany's chest hurt a little, especially since Quinn seemed to prefer Santana's company, too. Even if it was pretty obvious that Quinn and Santana constantly have a not-so-silent battle going on between them, they also seemed to have an understanding of each other, making their group seem like Quinn-and-Santana and then Brittany. Usually, Brittany wouldn't be so wired up and eager to get to know somebody, but her entire being was insisting that Santana wasn't just a somebody.
It was strange but her body seemed to just gravitate towards her, and every time they were in the same room together, Brittany would feel herself relax, that being near Santana was the most natural thing in the world, so that being without her just seemed so wrong. She didn't know how this could be, considering that she still didn't know much about this girl, and she had only been aware of her existence for just a couple of weeks. It was almost like she had been waiting this whole time just for this girl to appear. Like her entire life was a book and all that time before meeting Santana was just those first blank pages before the cover page. And when Santana had come into her life, the first chapter had began.
But with the way things were going, it would seem like she would be stuck with just the first page of the first chapter.
Until that Tuesday morning.
Brittany was usually dropped off at school by her dad (because she still managed to get herself lost even when she was riding the school bus), but their car had broken down that morning. Their neighbor, Mrs. Vaughan, offered to give her a lift but with Brittany's sense of direction leaving much to be desired and Mrs. Vaughan's memory of streets being stuck in the 70s, Brittany ended up in a street corner that was only vaguely familiar.
After standing there for five minutes, she finally remembered that this was the corner that she and her dad usually passed by on their way to her school, meaning that McKinley High was only a few blocks away. When she realized this, she heaved a sigh of relief. She pressed her hands together to give herself a cheer to lift her spirits.
But before she could do so, she noticed a figure in the red Cheerio uniform, with her black hair tied up in a high pony, appear on the next street corner. This figure was walking away from Brittany's direction so Brittany could only see the figure's back. She decided that her best bet to get to school was to follow this girl so she did.
She had only taken two steps when she realized that this Cheerio was Santana. That decisive way that she walked, that dark hair and swarthy skin (not to mention those smooth toned calves and nice ass—well hey, Brittany knew how to appreciate the human body and Santana was a fine specimen), yep, it could only be her. A feeling of elation surged throughout Brittany's entire body at the prospect of finally finally getting this opportunity to be with Santana alone.
She was about to quicken her steps when she saw Santana stop in the corner, where an old lady stood trembling, looking helplessly on either side of the street. Even though there wasn't much traffic this early in the morning, Brittany supposed that for an old person with slowed-down reflexes and poor eyesight and shaky legs, crossing the street was a nerve-wracking experience.
She watched in fascination as Santana turned to talk to the lady, gesturing to the crosswalk. Then after a minute, Santana offered her arm to the lady to hold on to as they both made their way across the street in slow steady steps. One car screeched to a stop and the driver honked his horn impatiently, making Santana turn to scowl at him and flip him the bird, all without pausing in her steps. When they finally reached the other side, the lady shakily raised her arms to pull Santana's face down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then to Brittany's pleasant surprise, Santana smiled bashfully before speaking a few more words to the lady.
They parted ways at the next corner, and Santana walked away with a slight spring in her step.
Brittany stood rooted to the spot for five more minutes before she remembered that she had to go to school.
When Brittany saw Santana at school, it was like that incident that morning never happened. She was still bitchy and mean to other people, tense and guarded with Quinn, and cool and aloof to Brittany. Brittany thought about bringing the incident up but thought better about it. Something about Santana's demeanor told her that the girl would just deny it and maybe even make a sarcastic remark.
So instead, Brittany thought of another plan to be closer to Santana.
The next day, Brittany asked her dad (their car had been fixed the day before) to drop her off on that same street corner where she saw Santana help the old lady cross. Her dad gave her a questioning look but she just shrugged her shoulders and hopped off. When her dad had driven away, she looked around to see if Santana was coming.
Nope, no sign of her.
She checked her time and saw that she still had a few minutes to spare before the morning cheer practice. What if Santana had already passed this way? What if yesterday was just a one-time thing? She gripped the straps of her backpack and rocked herself on the balls of her feet.
Finally Santana appeared, walking with deliberate steps. Her eyes flickered to Brittany's and for a split-second, they widened in surprise, but she immediately set them back to the path in front of her. She passed by Brittany, as if not seeing her. As she was about to step into the road, Brittany spoke up.
"Can you help me cross the street?"
Santana whipped around. "What?" she asked, her brows meeting together in a frown.
"I don't know how to cross the street." Brittany could feel her face heating up as words just poured out of her mouth. "And my cat used to help me but he's undergoing withdrawal right now so I'm on my own."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"No," Brittany quickly replied. "But I could be down with that."
Santana's eyes widened in bewilderment. "What?"
Oh. Brittany must have gotten the question wrong. She usually got them wrong, but she had also learned that when this happened, she just had to repeat the 'what' that followed her reply. So, with her face blank and her voice even, she asked back, "What?"
Santana's brows met together in a frown of confusion. She studied Brittany's face intently and after a few tense moments, her features relaxed, although there was still something guarded about her expression.
Brittany felt hope rising within her, and she can totally hear the 'yes' that was about to come out of Santana's mouth—
"No."
"What?"
"I said no." With that, Santana turned and proceeded crossing the street by herself.
Brittany was too surprised at the rejection to move from her spot. She looked on, with her heart slowly sinking, as Santana reached the other side without so much as a backward glance.
Brittany supposed that she had overestimated her plan, but how could she not when Lord Tubbington himself gave his purr of approval when she reviewed it with him last night. Still, she was so sure Santana would say 'yes'; there was that (momentary) look in her eyes that had said as much, and Brittany had never been wrong about reading other people's eyes, ever since that incident back in third grade with that mean kid Larry Silver.
Brittany's mind had wandered back to third grade that she didn't notice that the other girl had turned back and was now crossing the street again to be at her side.
It was not until she spoke that Brittany snapped out of her trance.
"Fine," said Santana, her eyes filled with a mixture of suspicion and something Brittany couldn't quite identify. "Follow me."
"Um, can I—can you—?"
"What?" Santana snapped.
Brittany gulped. "Can I hold on to you?"
Santana's eyes raked over Brittany's face, then she flickered her gaze away. Her eyebrows were still scrunched up, and Brittany thought that her expression looked rather cute.
"Don't push your luck," said Santana, though there wasn't much heat in her voice. "Just follow me."
Brittany couldn't help the smile slowly spreading on her face, as she skipped her steps behind Santana. And because she had already won one victory, she thought it wouldn't hurt to make it one-and-a-half. She grabbed the end of the backstraps of Santana's bag and held on to it. Santana didn't seem to have noticed this since she kept on walking, but for Brittany, it was a big thing.
Sure, she still hasn't been able to touch Santana but touching something that belonged to her was already progress.
xxx
It soon became part of a daily routine.
Brittany would wait for Santana in that street corner and together they would cross the street and walk towards school. Santana would still scowl and act like doing this was a chore, but then Brittany knew that she really didn't mind so much, or else why would she still be doing this for Brittany?
This tiny moment in the morning seemed to exist separately from the rest of the day since nothing ever changed in the way Santana acted towards her. But even so, Brittany couldn't help but think that this was the best thing about her day, every day.
Of course, since Brittany had already put her foot on the door, she thought that she should inch it a little bit wider.
So, one day, she thought of chatting Santana up.
"You're a really nice person, Santana," she said as they were crossing the street. Santana whirled around so fast that Brittany almost got knocked over.
"What?"
"I think you're really nice. Helping out that old lady and then me through this zebra crossing."
"How did you—" Her eyes darted to Brittany's hand which was holding on to the end of one of her backstraps. "What are you doing?"
Brittany opened her mouth to reply but a loud honk cut her off. An irate driver was yelling profanities, which they couldn't hear what with his windows all rolled up, and honking his horn obnoxiously. Santana snapped her attention towards him and flipped him the bird while yelling, "¡Hijo de puta!"
She grabbed Brittany by the wrist and dragged her across the street. Brittany was elated but she really couldn't feel Santana's touch since the sleeve of her Cheerio jacket got in the way. Still, it was another mark of progress.
Santana let go of Brittany's wrist once they had reached the other side. "Look, how did you know about the old lady?"
"I saw you. You were really nice about it and you even smiled at her when she kissed your cheek."
Santana flushed and she tried to keep her scowling expression but failed miserably. "I-I—look, that never happened. Don't you dare tell anyone about that!"
Brittany wondered why not but seeing Santana's flustered expression, she nodded. "I won't." Then she smiled slyly. "If we can hang out together at school."
"We are hanging out together. With Quinn Bitch?"
Brittany frowned. "Quinn's not a bitch. And besides, I want us to hang out and actually talk and stuff. You never really talk much."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Oh, there are plenty to talk about. Like I want to know why your family moved here, how you like Lima so far, what's your favorite animal and what your opinion is on the matter of the leprechauns finally filing a lawsuit against humans for commercializing rainbows."
The expression on Santana's face looked so much like that of a child faced with a gigantic puzzle with all the pieces blown every which way that Brittany had to suck in her lips to keep herself from smiling. It was such a refreshing break from the scowls and dismissive snorts she usually got when she opened her mouth.
Finally, Santana seemed to have collected her wits or maybe just found her voice again. "What?"
Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "It's that or there's no deal."
"So you want me to talk to you in school."
"Mm-hmm. That would be a good start."
"There's more?"
"We'll get to that later."
"Okay, stop. Let me get this straight: are you blackmailing me?"
"No, I don't have any black envelopes. Besides, I don't even know your address." Then after a moment, she added, "But then I suppose I could just slip them to your locker."
Santana squeezed her eyes shut as she muttered something under her breath. When she opened her eyes again, it was to fix her most threatening glare at Brittany, which kind of lost its effect with the way she still looked bewildered with what was happening. "Fine! Just—just don't tell anyone."
"Okay! That's a deal!" Brittany clapped her hands together.
Santana narrowed her eyes.
Brittany pressed her lips together to keep herself from grinning. She had a feeling that Santana wouldn't have liked it too much. She did, however, hold out her hand, just like that day on the field after Quinn had asked Santana to join their group.
Santana eyed the proffered hand. "What now?"
"You have to shake my hand to finalize the deal." When Santana still didn't say anything, she continued. "There's no deal unless you shake my hand."
Santana looked away. "This is ridiculous!" But she still made a move to grasp Brittany's hand. When she stopped within a few centimeters, Brittany closed the distance herself.
The moment she did so, she felt a strong jolt of electricity run throughout her body, and her breath catching in her throat. She stole a glance at Santana and was surprised to see the other girl quite still. Then Brittany realized that maybe Santana felt the same jolt, too.
"Did you feel it?" Brittany asked quietly.
That seemed to have snapped Santana out of her thoughts for she turned to look at Brittany, her face a picture of thinly veiled bafflement. But she seemed to have realized where she was and who she was with, since her expression suddenly changed into a scowl. "What are you talking about? Let's go."
Santana dropped Brittany's hand and stuffed hers into the pocket of her Cheerio jacket.
Brittany, her entire body still tingling, stood rooted to the spot for a few more moments. A slow smile appeared on her lips. That momentary physical contact with Santana had confirmed her suspicion:
This girl was somebody special.
xxx
Santana was true to her word.
From that day on, whenever Brittany would sidle up beside Santana, the girl didn't try to escape or find excuses to walk away. Well, she still didn't talk much either but at least now, she was trying to answer Brittany's questions, with one-or-two-word replies and a hum or a nod.
The difference was barely perceptible but Brittany thought that the way Santana would keep her eyes averted was more out of shyness than of disinterest.
Their daily morning routine also had a slight change. This time, when they were about to cross the street, Brittany would grab Santana's hand and hold it until they get to the other side. The first time Brittany did this, Santana froze up and Brittany had to tug her along through the crosswalk so that they wouldn't piss off the motorists. Brittany had half-expected to get a reprimand when they reached the other side. But if Santana had noticed that Brittany actually knew how to cross the street, she didn't say anything. She just wiggled her hand free and stuffed it into her pocket then continued on their way.
The next day, Brittany wondered if Santana had caught on. But she still appeared on the same corner, and this time she let her left hand dangle free, as if waiting for Brittany to take it. Brittany stole a glance at her but Santana kept her eyes steadily forward, her face a mask.
When Brittany clasped her hand with Santana's, it didn't take her more than two seconds to notice the firm and almost protective grip that the girl kept on her hand—almost like she was afraid that if she didn't hold Brittany's hand tighter, she would fly off like a balloon.
It made Brittany think.
Santana was always the first to offer (in her own discreet way), but she was also the first to let go as soon as they reached the other side. What made this even more curious for Brittany was the fact that Santana would just drop Brittany's hand, almost like she was afraid to prolong the contact more than necessary. Not to mention, she would stuff her hands on the pockets of her Cheerio jacket, as if to avoid any more unnecessary touching.
Brittany would have thought that Santana was afraid of it, of the physical contact between them, but then again, they do hold hands when crossing the street.
It was honestly befuddling.
"Zebras."
"What?" Brittany's eyes snapped towards Santana, who, as usual, was looking straight in front of her.
"Nothing."
A smile quirked the ends of Brittany's mouth. The way Santana said the word seemed like she didn't intend for it to come out of her mouth. But nevertheless, this was the first time Santana had opened the door for a conversation, even if it wasn't intentional.
And Brittany wasn't about to let this go.
"When I was younger, I cried because I thought the zebras have all been ran over and got flattened to the ground. Did you know there are tiger, pelican, puffin and Pegasus crossings? I think it would be awesome if they actually used these crossings but I don't think the Pegasus would need it because they can fly and there's no traffic in the sky. Usually. I mean, there are planes and choppers but they're not that many. And besides, I think it's going to be difficult to fashion the clouds as signs; unless, of course, they can find a really good paint to use in the sky."
Santana didn't say anything. When they have reached the other side, Brittany anticipated Santana dropping her hand but to her surprise and delight, Santana didn't. Sure, she loosened her grip but she didn't let go. Picking up on this, Brittany kept their hands clasped together.
"I used to think Ped Xing was some famous Chinese guy who had a street named after him," she continued, intent on not make a big deal out of the fact that Santana was finally letting her hold her for no apparent reason. "But then I began to wonder about it when I keep seeing Ped Xings everywhere I went. I mean, usually people only have one street named after them, right? And then this one time my family went out for a drive and there was a sign that said Deer Xing and I thought that the Xing family must have been really important to have all these signs put up for them."
Brittany paused for breath. She cast a quick at Santana and found her deep in thought. After a moment, Santana said, "I used to think that, too… that Ped Xing was a famous Chinese man."
Brittany felt her smile widen, as she tightened her hold on Santana. Like she was afraid that this time, Santana would be the one to fly away like a balloon.
xxx
Schooldays have become the best days of Brittany's week, and being with Santana the best part of those days. More and more, Brittany found Santana warming up to her. When they talked (yes, it was finally becoming a two-way conversation, cue: fistpump), Santana would actually look at Brittany now. And when they walked, they were now in step with each other, no one leading and no one trailing behind. They even sat together in the classes that they did share.
Being with Santana was the greatest.
But that also meant that being without her was the worst.
Brittany had found out earlier on that Santana liked to disappear at various times during the day—sometimes in between classes, but sometimes Brittany suspected even during classes. The other Cheerios said that Santana was hooking up with some guy each time anyone remarked her absence. This piece of information didn't sit too well with Brittany, and she felt something twisting at the pit of her stomach. It was strange to think about it but she supposed she just didn't want to share Santana, and any moment that Santana spent with somebody else was a moment that Brittany didn't get to spend with her.
And Brittany wanted to spend every moment with her.
"Hey there, Brittany."
Brittany looked up from her locker to find a tall guy with a mohawk smirking at her. A quick glance around her showed her that the other football players were chatting it up with the other Cheerios. There must be a party coming on soon.
"Hey, Puck."
Brittany liked Puck, not like-like, but liked how she could identify him easily because of his hair. It was really difficult for her to pin names to people, especially when they didn't have anything to distinguish them physically, so when they had something unique going on for them, she was glad because it totally helped her out in remembering their names (like Quinn and her perfect eyebrows or Santana and her… everything).
"So I heard from Scott that you blew him away with your linguistic talents at the last party. So, why don't you blow me away, too, this Friday?"
Snickers from the football guys and disgusted scoffs from the other Cheerios who heard littered the air.
Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "Okay."
Puck trailed his eyes slowly down Brittany's body. He gave a feral grin. "Looking forward to it." And with a wink and a not-so-subtle pelvic thrust, he pushed himself away from the lockers and went over to his buddies, giving out high-fives.
Brittany didn't think too much of this, especially not when Santana appeared just as the bell for fourth period rang.
"Santana!"
"Hey, Santana," one of the Cheerios, who was nearer to her, called out. "Too bad you missed it; the football guys have just been picking out their dates. If you don't hurry, you might end up with trash." Then a little softer, but still menacing, "Just like you really are."
Santana's eyes narrowed. "Bitch, please. Everybody knows that guys only offer to take you as a pity date because they want at least one good deed to tell St. Peter: 'Oh hey, I took this miserable crater-faced charity case to a party, that must be enough to get me to heaven, right, because all the poor souls in Purgatory cannot compare to her miserable pathetic existence.'"
Brittany watched in fascination as the Cheerio's face paled and she hastily scrambled to get to her class.
Santana had by now spotted her (which wasn't that difficult considering there were only them and two others in the hallway) and was now walking towards her. "Hey."
Brittany felt her heart flutter a little. "Hey." When Santana was only a two steps away, she said, "You're really good with words."
Santana's eyes darted towards Brittany's, as if checking for something. Then apparently satisfied, she looked away. "Yeah, well, learning how to cut a bitch is a necessary life skill in Lima Heights." She looked around. "Looks like classes have started. What do you say we head to the bleachers instead?"
Brittany didn't expect this. This, Santana actually asking her to hang out with her (and yeah, to cut class, too), was something she had wanted to happen but didn't really expect to come true anytime soon.
"I can help you out with English," said Santana, eyeing her carefully. Then after a beat, she must have realized that she had let it slip that she sort of knew Brittany's schedule since she added more nonchalantly, "Or whatever."
Brittany couldn't help but smile at that. "I've been advised to not attend some of my classes in the hopes that it would help my grades."
Santana raised her eyebrow. "That bad?"
"Yeah," Brittany laughed. "That bad. So I'm going to have to take you up on your offer."
"Okay." Santana shrugged her shoulders but Brittany could see color rising to her cheeks. Santana cleared her throat. "Well, we better scoot before a teacher sees us. Let's go."
Santana seemed to have done this a lot of times since she knew exactly where to go. They found a spot under the bleachers, which gave them some privacy and a good cover. There were some band equipment stashed there and Santana went over to the pile, digging up something, while Brittany found a spot to sit on. After a minute, Brittany saw what that something was.
A pack of cigarettes.
As Santana got a stick and placed it between her lips, Brittany found her eyes focusing on Santana's mouth. Sure, she had noticed Santana's full lips before but her attention had never honed in on them like now, like she was wondering how they felt like, if they were soft and—
"You okay?"
Brittany blinked. "Yeah." She watched as Santana lit her cigarette and puffed out clouds of smoke. "Do you smoke a lot?"
Santana, who had her eyes closed, opened them lazily. She took a few more puffs before answering. "No. Only when I'm really stressed."
"What's stressing you out now?"
"Stuff." Then in a rather obvious effort to change topic, she said, "Don't worry, one stick isn't enough to leave me gasping and have Coach up in my case."
"Okay," said Brittany, in response to both the spoken and unspoken requests. "Is this where you go to when you just disappear?"
Santana chuckled. "What are you talking about? Haven't you heard what those other girls have been saying about me?"
"I have, but…" But what? Before she had been taken to this place, Brittany was sure that Santana was hooking up with guys whenever she was nowhere in sight. But now, seeing her like this, so guarded and yet at the same time not, Brittany was no longer that sure. "Do you believe everything that the other girls say?"
Santana snorted. "Of course not. Everything that comes out from their mouths is twisted in a way that would make them look better than everyone else." She took one last drag from her cigarette before throwing it to the ground and crushing it with the heel of her shoe. "I should know, I do that all the time. Though I always base on truth. Nobody likes hearing the truth, after all."
She rummaged through the pile of equipment again, this time retrieving a pack of gum. After taking a stick, she offered the pack to Brittany.
Brittany smiled as she took one. "Are these all yours?"
"Yes, if we stick to the 'finders, keepers' rule." Santana tossed the half-empty pack back into the pile. Then after a beat, she asked, "So, who are you going with on Friday?"
"Puck, I think."
"You think?"
"He wasn't very clear about it; he just said that I should blow him away this Friday."
"He what?" Santana's expression turned into a furious scowl.
Brittany swallowed nervously as she remembered Puck and Santana hanging around each other last week. "But if you're supposed to be going out with him, I'll just tell him I can't."
"No, that's not it!" Santana squeezed her eyes shut. "That fucking douchebag!"
A million reasons flitted through Brittany's mind as to why what she said seemed to have upset Santana. But there was only one that she cared about, one that could cut both ways.
She looked at Santana for a minute, before saying carefully, "It's okay, Santana. I like that he's being upfront about it." Santana opened her eyes and met Brittany's, making her pause. "It really confuses me when guys beat the club around the shrub."
There it was: the look of surprise as realization dawned on Santana. Brittany had known that everybody thought that she couldn't understand word plays, and fine, maybe she didn't sometimes—but only when it comes to low-level word plays; she was a pro and didn't usually play in the little leagues. So she didn't exactly think that Santana would be exempt from it (though that didn't mean she hadn't felt that little sting of disappointment). But what was important was how long that look would last.
Brittany held her breath.
Santana's eyes fluttered close and she ducked her head. But not before Brittany caught it, the look of surprise morphing into shame. When Santana raised her face again, she was biting her lip and in her eyes a look of contrition, which she tried vainly to hide. She cleared her throat. "So, uh, you're going with Puck."
Brittany bit back a smile. "We can go together, if you want."
"What?"
"I mean," Brittany's cheeks started to pink. "I'd really rather go with you than with Puck."
Santana took a step back, staring at Brittany. "What do you mean?"
Brittany tilted her head in confusion. "Just that, we go together to the party."
What sounded suspiciously like a nervous laughter bubbled out of Santana's lips as she shook her head.
"Santana?"
"I—"
The resounding ring of the bell announcing lunch cut through the air, followed closely by students making their way out of the school building. Santana had turned her head at the sound, and was now fixing her attention to the double doors opening and the people rushing out.
Brittany waited for her to continue what she was about to say earlier but when a minute ticked by, she asked again, "Santana?"
"Let's go?" Santana started to walk back towards the building without waiting for a response. Brittany let her eyes trail after Santana before her body followed and the two of them walked back together.
Santana didn't mention about going to the party again for the rest of the day or the day after, not even on the day itself. It was like the conversation never happened.
Brittany wondered if Santana just forgot. She was about to bring it up again that Friday afternoon, when they were all in the locker room, just after an exhausting Cheerio practice. Despite Quinn's protocol of going in only after all the others have gone, whenever there was a party, the girls always stayed longer, chatting up and bragging the man-candy they scored to go with. Quinn, as usual, ignored everybody else and was fixing something in her locker, which was beside Brittany's. Santana, though Brittany saw her at practice, was nowhere to be seen.
She was still looking around for her when she heard somebody speak up above the chatter around her.
"I hope that a certain dumb blonde slut here keeps her skanky paws to herself tonight."
Brittany had no reason to suppose that this statement was directed at her so she was about to brush it off, but the next statement, from another girl, made her stop.
"Don't hold your breath, Mandy. She thinks that the capital of Ohio is O so I really doubt she'd take the hint. Besides she's so stupid, she can only think with her vagina; I bet you a hundred bucks that she'll be throwing herself around again and stealing our men."
Brittany felt her entire body grow cold. Then before she could think better of it, she turned to look at the girls who were talking.
Their bodies were facing each other but their faces were directed towards her. In their eyes was pure, unadulterated hate.
When they saw her looking, their faces twisted into a matching sneer. "Oh look, looks like amoeba-brain can put two and two together. Yes, you man-eater, we were talking about you. So if it isn't too much trouble for your puny-sized brain, you better—"
"She better what, Crater-Face?" Santana appeared beside Brittany, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Judging by the looks of your cringe-worthy asses that look like they've been ravaged by all the venereal diseases known to man, I fully understand why your men would rather find someone else—in fact, I actually want to give them an award for being so charitable enough to let you two believe in that delusional dream that they are your men." She approached them, her figure becoming more and more threatening, judging by the way the eyes of the two girls widened in fear. "Just because nobody wants to touch your disease-ridden asses with a ten-foot pole doesn't give you the right to talk shit about Brittany. Let me hear you talk about her like that again and I'll give the two of you some Lima Heights hospitality." Santana was now so close to them that they all seemed to be sharing the air. When she spoke again, her voice was soft but the threat was palpable, like a butcher's knife covered by a cloth. "I will make sure to make your lives so miserable you'd wish you've never been born."
The effect was instantaneous, not only to the two girls, but to everyone else in the room. It didn't take three minutes before everybody cleared out. Everybody except Brittany, Santana and Quinn.
Brittany, who had been rooted to the spot with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, was about to thank Santana, when the girl turned violently to Quinn, who was placidly tying her shoelaces on the bench, as if oblivious to everything that has happened.
"Why didn't you stop those bitches?" Santana spat out.
Quinn didn't look up. "Why should I?"
"Because you're supposed to be Brittany's friend!"
Quinn looked up, her green eyes cold and unreadable. "I am her friend, and that is why I am not going to coddle her and act like she's some toddler who can't defend herself. She's old enough, Santana, to fight back if she wants to. And if she's choosing to be stomped all over, well that isn't my problem."
"Choosing not to fight back is choosing to be better than a barbaric backstabbing bitch!"
"Like you're the one to talk. Aren't you the one who shreds other people with your words?"
"I never said I wasn't! I never said I was better!"
Quinn just raised her brow and shrugged her shoulders before getting up. Brittany could see it clearly now, the stark contrast between the iciness in Quinn and the fieriness in Santana.
"Whatever, Santana. I choose my own battles, and Brittany obviously chooses hers. I think you should learn something from us, instead of being such a war-freak. I don't expect either of you to defend me if somebody says something unpleasant to me, so you shouldn't expect me to defend you either."
"You are so fucking screwed up! That isn't how friends treat each other! What's wrong, Quinn? Have you never had friends before?"
Quinn's face hardened and her green eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, as if you have? That would be grand, isn't it, taking friendship advice from a grade-A friendship guru. Tell me then, why do I never see you with anybody else aside from us and those guys you sleep with?" Santana seemed too shocked to retort, so Quinn continued, "If you're so worried about Brittany, why don't you take care of her yourself—you seem good at that, anyway—instead of foisting that responsibility on me."
And with that, Quinn walked out of the room, leaving Santana and Brittany alone.
Santana was still breathing heavily from near-shouting at Quinn. Brittany tentatively touched her shoulder. Santana jerked away from the contact but relaxed when she realized who it was. "Sorry."
Brittany just shook her head. "No. Thank you. Thank you for defending me back then." When Santana still didn't speak, she continued, "I've never really learned how to make people stop saying things about me."
A half-hearted laugh escaped Santana's lips as she shook her head. "How did you manage to live through it all?" She squeezed her eyes shut before sitting herself down on the bench.
"I used to try to win them over by being nice and stuff, and it used to work. But ever since high school started, they just got meaner and meaner. So I just block them out. Pretend I don't hear them."
"And Quinn just stood idly by all this time?"
Brittany pressed her lips together. She didn't think that Quinn did anything wrong by not slashing those mean people with vicious, vicious words like what Santana just did. So she just shrugged her shoulders and said, "It's all right."
"It's not fucking all right!"
"I think Quinn has had people be mean to her before. She never looks whenever people are being mean to me and she always has this expression on her face afterwards, like she just ate something sour."
Santana snorted. "People being mean to Quinn? To Quinn fucking Fabray? The Golden Girl? Like hell that ever happens in this world. People like her always get everything and live their lives with everybody grovelling at their feet, eager to please them, never knowing what it's like to be afraid and to have nothing."
The bitterness that coated Santana's words made Brittany flinch. Santana seemed to have realized she had said too much since her spine stiffened and she cast a quick glance at Brittany.
Brittany, sensing the change, opted to steer the conversation to another direction. "In any case, you're the best friend I've ever had."
That seemed to throw Santana off since her eyes widened. "Best… friend?"
"Yeah, you are," said Brittany, with a big smile on her face. "You have been ever since the day you helped me cross the street." Then she added a bit shyly, "I wish I'm your best friend, too."
Santana just stared for a moment, making Brittany duck her head. Then quietly, almost reverently, Santana said, "You are, Britt. You're my best friend."
Brittany felt her chest warm up like there was a fire burning inside her. She looked up and saw it was Santana this time who had her face averted. Nevertheless, Brittany let out a little squeal of delight as she grabbed Santana's hands, making the other girl look at her. Seeing her happy face, Santana couldn't help but smile back.
"Well then, best friend, what do you say we go to the party together?"
Santana rolled her eyes playfully. "Should've known you were gonna ask me for something."
"Well?" Brittany waited with an expectant grin, swinging their joined hands side-to-side. "I know you want to," she added cheekily.
Santana tried to scowl but couldn't help a cute little laugh instead. "All right, all right. We'll go together."
xxx
Brittany liked parties. She liked how people just let themselves loose and lived in the moment, dancing to the pulsating beat of the music playing over the loud speakers. She liked how people simply enjoyed themselves, drinking and laughing and making out.
Parties were the best thing ever.
Unfortunately, Quinn didn't share her opinion. Although Quinn still showed up at the parties sometimes, she never stayed for too long. She barely even drank anything (and when she did, Brittany suspected it was just soda). She would smile and dance a bit, talk to some people, flirt a little and then she would call it a night and ask the guy she was flirting with for the moment—usually it was that really tall guy Finn—to take her home.
Which was why Brittany was more than a little glad that Santana was their friend now. Santana seemed to like being in a party. Maybe not because of the same reasons that Brittany liked parties, but that was okay. It was just so nice to have a friend who actually liked being in one. It made things so much better.
But it wasn't just that that made going to this party different from before.
When they had left school earlier, Brittany realized why girls usually go with guys to parties. For one, the guys have cars to take them. The upperclassmen usually have their own, though the ones their age either snuck out their parents' cars or score a ride with their buddies who did. Well, some of the other girls had their older siblings or cousins take them but Brittany had never been close enough to these girls to ride with them and she didn't have an older sibling or cousin to ask either. She wondered briefly if, in the end, she and Santana would have to just meet up at the party place.
But Santana just said that she would pick Brittany up at her place and asked for her address.
As it turned out, Santana had a habit of sneaking out her mother's old BMW (the key to which she had duplicated in the first week they moved to Lima Heights) whenever her parents weren't around. And as luck would have it, her father was away for a medical conference for the weekend and her mother went with him, leaving Santana with the glorious opportunity of underage driving.
"Don't they know?" Brittany asked after Santana explained why she had the car.
"Oh, they probably do. But as long as I don't say anything about it or have them catch me doing it, we all pretend it doesn't happen," said Santana, her eyes on the road. There was a hardness to her voice that seemed to indicate that she was not only referring to sneaking the car out.
After a moment of silence, Brittany asked another question. "So they leave you alone at the house sometimes?" Realizing that this maybe a bit too personal, she added, "'Cause mine do, too. They tend to forget me a lot. One time they left me at Sears and I ended up spending the night there. I think they just remembered because Lord Tubbington kept calling out for me 'cause nobody gave him dinner that night."
Santana didn't say anything for a while. And when she did, it was just a soft "oh."
Brittany sensed that the whole atmosphere have gotten heavy, and realizing it may have been because of what she said (which actually wasn't that bad, in her opinion; it was just a fact and facts aren't good or bad, they just are), she asked, "Do you like to dance?"
Santana took a quick glance at her before shrugging. "Well enough."
"I love to dance. It makes me feel like I'm filled with sunshine and I can pee rainbows and poop butterflies." Then after a beat, "I'm actually pretty awesome at it."
Santana smiled. "Yeah, I can tell that much, from the way you move during practice. Have you been taking dance lessons?"
"I used to. My PE teacher back in middle school owned a dance studio and she offered to give me free lessons. Those were the best. I get to learn all kinds of dances like hip-hop, jazz and a bit of ballet. But she moved away last year, so."
"That's too bad," Santana murmured, her brows meeting together in a small frown. Brittany felt her heart flutter.
"It's all right, 'cause in the meantime, I get to try out different things. Like I've recently gotten into motocross. There's this sweet old man I met when I got lost at the edge of town a few months back and we got to talking and when he saw how I interested I was, he told me he could teach me all about motocross. Long story short, he's coaching me now and he said when he thinks I'm good enough, he'll lend me one of his bikes and enter me in competitions. So I go over to his shop every Saturday, when there's no practice. On other days, I've been working on writing the script for my own web TV talk show. There's this second-hand camera I've been saving for, and I think I'll be able to get it before the school year ends. If all goes well, I might be able to air my first episode next year."
"You are a girl with many interests, aren't you?" said Santana, laughing. It wasn't a mocking laugh or a forced laugh. It wasn't even a big laugh. It was just a small one, giddy and genuine, the type of laugh that Brittany had long associated to accompany a pleasant discovery. Brittany herself used to laughed this laugh when she was younger; not so much recently. The fact that she was hearing this from Santana, the girl who scowled 98% of the time, made Brittany laugh that laugh, too.
Santana just arched her brow but didn't say anything, just waited for Brittany to speak.
"I think it's cool to try out many things. There's just too many things to do, too many things to find out, you know?" And because this was her secret dream, she added softly, "I'd love to be able to travel around the world someday."
They've just arrived at their destination and Santana parked the car across the street. There were other cars parked around the area, some haphazardly, which made Santana's parking stand out. When Santana had killed the engine, she turned towards Brittany, meeting her eyes. She smiled.
"I'm sure you will."
There was no trace of doubt or patronizing indulgence in those brown eyes; only frank sincerity and firm belief. It was something that Brittany had never seen in anybody else's eyes when they looked at her. She felt something squeezing her heart like somebody just gave it a bear hug.
And because she didn't know how to express her appreciation and gratitude for those words, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to press a soft kiss on Santana's cheek.
When she pulled back, she saw Santana just staring back at her with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in surprise. She tentatively touched the spot on her cheek. "What was that for?" she asked breathlessly.
"For being nice and sweet," said Brittany, pink tinting her cheeks.
"You must be mistaken, I'm anything but those things," said Santana gruffly, looking away. She tried unbuckling her seatbelt but her fingers kept slipping so Brittany leaned over again to help her with it. Santana stopped breathing and that her entire body had gone rigid. Brittany pulled back as soon as she was done to check on Santana.
"You all right?" she asked worriedly.
Santana exhaled slowly, her eyes fluttering before she closed them. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "Yeah. Let's go?"
Brittany felt a wave of relief wash over her; for a moment, she was afraid that Santana was having an attack of some sorts.
"Sure."
The moment they stepped inside the house, Brittany immediately discovered the second reason why it was common for guys and girls to go to parties together. When a girl had a guy with her, all the other guys didn't call out to her or grope her (too much).
She and Santana had just crossed the hallway and already Brittany had felt grimy hands slap her ass and hot stinky breath, with the bonus of lewd offers, blown across her face more than a few times. When she glanced at Santana, she saw that the other girl was having the same problem. On Santana's face was an expression of disgust and annoyance and when a hand reached out to grab her, she slapped it away and said in a voice loud enough to be heard by people around them, "Try touching me again and I'll cut you up with the razors in my hair."
"Whoa, take it easy there; you girls are fair game, right?" said the guy who had tried to touch her. "I don't see your dudes around."
"Watch it, bro," a familiar voice cut in. Puck's swaggering figure appeared beside the guy. He was looking at both Brittany and Santana with a smirk. "These girls are Coach Sylvester's new favorites, you know. If you don't want to have a dragon breathing down your neck for the rest of your high school life, I suggest you heed our fiery little miss here and back off." He eyed Santana with this hungry expression that made Brittany's stomach twist.
The guy scoffed but took the hint and wandered off. Puck quirked his eyebrow as he switched his gaze from Santana to Brittany and then back to Santana again. "If I had known you two were coming together, I would've offered you girls a lift. You know I just got my own ride the other day."
"It's okay. San's got a car."
"Oh, is that right?" Puck looked impressed. "You never told me that."
"Well we aren't exactly the type to do pillow talk, are we?" Santana snapped back.
Puck just laughed. "Right, right. What was it you said again? Yeah, 'more macking, less talking.'" Brittany felt the knot in her stomach grow tighter. "So what can I get you girls? Beer? Cocktails? Cocktails?"
"Gypsy Rose. I certainly hope you know what that is."
Puck puffed his chest out. "Please. I've been mixing drinks since I was in preschool."
"Wow, already planning such a stellar career at Scandals at such a young age. I'm impressed."
"Your snark is always a turn-on, babe." Puck gave her a wink before making his way through the crowd.
When he was gone, Santana tugged Brittany towards an empty and somewhat hidden area below the stairs. "What an asshole."
"Really? He seems nice, offering us drinks like that," said Brittany, ignoring the unexplainable knot of feelings at the pit of her stomach. "Plus it really looks like he likes you."
Santana turned to her, visibly upset. "Was he always like this to you?"
"Like what?"
"Like—ugh! I can't fucking explain it!" Santana closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Most boys are like that," Brittany shrugged. "It doesn't really matter though; it always end the same anyway." At Santana's confused expression, she continued. "I mean, they want sex and I like sex, so we always end up doing it anyway." She smiled. "I'm pretty awesome at it, too."
Santana ducked her head. She cleared her throat before looking at Brittany again. "That's not the point," she said, frustration lining her voice.
"Am I supposed to say no?"
Santana looked torn. "Well, not exactly… I mean, if you don't want to." A shadow crossed her face but disappeared quickly. She laughed bitterly. "I'm in no place to be saying any of this anyway."
Brittany frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Santana's expression hardened. "Nothing, never mind."
"Okay. I've…" Brittany paused.
"Yeah?"
"I've never been good at saying no." The moment Brittany said it, a memory flashed before her eyes and a wave of nausea came over her. Santana caught her in her arms.
"Britt?"
Brittany shook her head as the feeling passed. She disentangled herself from Santana. At the sight of her worried face, Brittany forced a smile. "I'm all right. Just got a little dizzy."
Santana looked around her. Then she grabbed a skinny guy who was passing by.
"Listen, Jeeves, and listen good. If you don't want your skinny ass tied to the flagpole come Monday morning, you better get me a glass of water pronto. I'll be counting up to ten and if you're not back by then, consider your ass forfeit."
As the guy scurried off, Santana made Brittany sit on the old couch at the corner. "Do you want to go home?"
Brittany shook her head again. "I'm fine, really. Besides, I really want to dance. You know, some people come to these parties just to watch me dance." Brittany added with a light-hearted laugh, "I'm like the main event."
Santana studied her face carefully. Finally, she said, "Okay, if you say so. But first you have to drink some water."
And as if on cue, the skinny guy returned with the glass of water, sloshing it a bit in his hurry. Santana took the glass from him unceremoniously and dismissed him with a curt nod. "Here, drink up."
They stayed in the corner for a few minutes more, not talking. Santana was looking at the group of jocks at the corner as they shotgun their beers, but every so often she would steal a glance at Brittany. Despite the warm fuzzy feeling in her chest that Santana's concern inspired, Brittany didn't like their first party together to be like this, tainted by a dark cloud.
So she jumped to her feet and grabbed Santana's hands, tugging her to the dance floor. "Come, let's dance!"
And because Santana still looked unsure, Brittany let go one of Santana's hand to grab one of the drinks lined up at a table they passed by on their way to the dance floor. She shoved the red solo cup to Santana. "Drink!"
"Britt, I'm driving."
Brittany rolled her eyes. "It's just one drink, San. And you could always drink lots of water later." Then she added slyly, "Or is Santana Lopez a lightweight?"
Santana let out an indignant scoff. "Oh please. Me, a lightweight?" She took the cup and downed the contents in one gulp. She grimaced. "God, that tasted awful."
Brittany just laughed. She took the empty cup and tossed it to a corner, before continuing on their way to the dance floor.
A lot of people were already there, swaying to the beat of the music. Some were so drunk that they were just convulsing their bodies and some weren't exactly dancing at all but were just dry-humping. But Brittany didn't mind, just as long as everybody was having a good time. Actually, she couldn't bring herself to mind much anything at all, especially since she was with Santana.
Brittany started bobbing her head to the music, and when Santana started doing that too, she grinned and let herself loose. This was her territory, her stage, and it didn't take long for people around them to know this. The crowd backed away to give Brittany the space to move freely. Santana had also taken a step back as she witnessed for the first time Brittany in her element.
It was automatic. Once Brittany let herself be lost in the music, she literally forgot about everything else. All she was aware of was the pulsating beat, the adrenaline rushing in her veins, the feeling of being free. She closed her eyes as she revelled in this heady sensation.
She didn't know for how long she had been dancing but she soon felt somebody dancing next to her. And it wasn't just somebody with half-assed dance skills, it was somebody who knew how to move their body as well. In that split-second, she thought of Santana. She wished it was Santana. She opened her eyes and saw—
Mike Chang.
Oh.
But of course.
Mike was popping and locking around her, complementing his moves to hers. Despite her disappointment, Brittany couldn't help but feel a rush of happy feeling at having him dancing with her. She liked Mike. He wasn't like the other guys who, when they sidled up next to her in the dance floor, would immediately try to grind against her. Instead, he would just move to his own beat, and would match her moves. At one party, they even demonstrated how to do the dougie together, to the delight of the onlookers.
Brittany could tell Mike loved dancing as well and that he understood the feeling of freedom in getting lost in the rhythm. When they were dancing together, she could feel a kindred spirit.
Except that this time, there was a niggling feeling that kept her from completely enjoying the dance with him.
When he took her hand and spun her around, her eyes caught brown ones, brown ones that were staring fixedly on her.
Santana.
She wanted to dance with Santana.
When she had circled back to Mike's arms, she put a hand on his chest. He got the hint and just smiled and twirled around to pop and lock some more. By this time, the crowd had joined in, and Brittany had to make her way through them to get to Santana.
She found her still standing at the edge of the dance floor. Brittany stopped in front of her and grinned.
"Hi."
"Hey."
"Dance with me."
Santana laughed as she shook her head. "I'd rather not. I'd just make a fool of myself beside you."
"Please?"
Santana looked away. "Where's the guy you were dancing with?"
"Mike? I think he's still dancing in there." A thought crossed Brittany's mind, making her bite her lip. "Do you, uh, do you want to dance with him instead?"
That made Santana snapped her eyes back to Brittany. "No, that's—that's not it." She glanced around before meeting Brittany's eyes again. "I mean, you seemed to be enjoying yourself with him, and…" She trailed off, punctuating it with an awkward laugh.
Brittany wasn't sure what Santana was trying to say. She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, but I want to dance with you." She smiled her slow cat-like smile. "I can teach you some of my moves, if you want."
Santana laughed again, her eyes bright. "Right here, right now?"
"Right here, right now," Brittany nodded. "Besides, even if you do make mistakes, I don't think anybody here would mind."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah. Everybody seems to be drunk off their asses."
"Plus you're, like, super-hot and nobody ever makes fun of super-hot girls. Especially when they're dancing."
Santana ducked her head. "Whatever," she mumbled.
Brittany blinked. Was Santana… embarrassed? Brittany laughed that little pleasant-discovery-laugh.
"What?" Santana looked up, frowning.
Brittany shook her head. "You're just too cute, is all." That made Santana duck her head again. Brittany resisted the urge for another laugh. "Come on, cutie pie."
Santana tried to look stern but failed. She broke into a grin as she let herself be led to the dance floor.
They spent the rest of the night just dancing, and when Puck finally found them, Santana blew him off, saying he was too slow. She grabbed Mike, who was dancing nearby, as if to prove her point, but as soon as Puck left, disgruntled, she pushed Mike away from her with a "Don't get your hopes up, Wu-Tang." Brittany just gave him an apologetic shrug and he just shook his head and danced again.
When they were tired, they sat themselves on a corner, with Santana threatening yet another skinny guy to get them water.
"This was fun."
Santana smiled. "Yeah."
Before Brittany could stop herself, she let out a yawn. Santana chuckled.
"Haven't been sleeping much?"
"I've had to stay up late last night to re-do my English homework," said Brittany, rubbing her eyes. "Mrs. Renner said that I can't draw a sonnet. Which totally doesn't make sense 'cause I just did—I mean a sonnet is the love-child of a sunset and a bonnet, right? But anyway, she told me to re-do it and use words. Which is a shame 'cause I think words can't ever capture a sonnet."
Santana smiled. "Well, my offer still stands. I can help you out on your schoolwork, if you want."
Brittany smiled back. "That would be awesome."
"All right then; we'll set a schedule. Anyway, let's go home?"
"Yours or mine?"
Santana flushed. "I mean, let's go to our respective homes."
"Oh. Okay."
The drive to Brittany's place was quiet, which Brittany attributed to the fact that she had dozed off a couple of times on the way. When Santana nudged her awake, telling her softly that they've arrived at her house, Brittany was almost sad. She tried unbuckling her seatbelt but her eyes were too heavy and her fingers too stiff. Santana just chuckled and helped her with it. When Brittany still didn't move even when she was freed from the seatbelt, Santana said gently, "Hey, you need to get some sleep."
"I know," Brittany mumbled, making Santana laugh.
"Goodnight, Britt."
"Goodnight, San."
Brittany leaned over to kiss Santana's cheek, but either her coordination was really shot or her subconscious was doing her a favor, she ended up pressing a kiss on the corner of Santana's mouth. When she pulled back, Santana was looking at her with a curious expression.
"For coming with me tonight," said Brittany with a sleepy grin, "and making it the best party ever."
Santana lowered her eyes as a smile slowly spread on her face.
Brittany climbed out of the car and walked to their door. But before she opened it, she turned back and waved at Santana, who was waiting for her to go inside first. Santana gave a small wave back. Because Brittany didn't want to end this night just yet, she continued waving until Santana rolled her eyes and mouthed the words, "Go inside."
Brittany laughed and with one last wave, she went in.
It was only when she had changed into her pyjamas and she was lying on her bed did she realize that this was the first time she went to a party and didn't get wasted nor end up having sex with a guy. Not even spending the majority of which dancing with a slew of other people, which was usually the highlight of parties for her.
And yet, just like what she told Santana, it was the best party ever.
xxx
Come Monday morning, during practice, Coach Sylvester made an announcement that sent a frisson of surprise and trepidation among the gathered Cheerios.
"Listen up, you sloppy excuse of athletes! Your deplorable performance had me puking out my guts worse than when I contracted typhoid back in the Ganges. So in an attempt to get your mediocre asses the slap that they obviously need, I'm naming Quinn Fabray as the vice-captain of the squad. She'll be replacing that incurable disappointment of a Cheerio who I will not trouble my brain cells to recall."
Some of the Cheerios looked around them to see who was missing.
"But she's only a freshman," somebody muttered a little too loudly.
Coach Sylvester narrowed her eyes as she directed her megaphone to the girl who spoke up. "Maybe if you lazy bums actually spent every moment of your worthless lives practicing, you would have reached the level of skill that Fabray exhibits even though she is only a freshman. Now, if any one of you wants to bleed out your bitter gall, I suggest you do so while running ten laps around the oval. Do I make myself clear?"
The girl cowered beneath Coach Sylvester's glare. "Yes, Coach," she mumbled.
"Oh and Richardson, Wakefield!" Two girls came forward, shaking slightly. "A little bird told me that you two have been stinking up our supplies room with your disgusting hormone-driven trysts with your meathead boyfriends."
"C-Coach, that's—"
"Shut your trap, I didn't ask for your confirmation. You two, run some suicides. Now! And don't stop until I say so."
Brittany and Santana followed them with their eyes as they ran towards the oval.
"Lopez! Pierce!"
They both snapped their attention back to their coach.
"Fabray recommends you two highly, and I admit I may have spotted a glimpse of your potential, which may have well been my eyes playing tricks on me—they have been ever since I had to get my eyeballs replaced after some stray shrapnel burst the original ones during one assignment back when I was serving my country in the Special Forces. Ah, those were the days." Coach Sylvester's eyes turned hazy in recollection as she stared off in the distance. She snapped out of her reverie. "I may have something for the two of you if you prove yourselves to me. Don't disappoint. Now get out of my sight."
Brittany and Santana hastily dismissed themselves as their squad captain came up to Coach Sylvester to discuss the routines.
They made their way to Quinn, who was looking at the two girls running suicides. She had her hands on her hips, her shoulders pulled back and her chin raised. Brittany couldn't help but think how Quinn looked so much like a Head Cheerleader right now. She smiled and skipped over to her.
"Hey Quinn, congrats! I think you're going to be an awesome vice-captain! And thanks for recommending San and I. That's really nice of you."
Quinn just glanced at her and nodded. "Why don't you two do some warm-ups?"
"Wait, are those two—?" Santana furrowed her brows as she got a good look at the two girls. Brittany followed her gaze and she gasped in recognition.
"What did you do, Quinn?" Santana asked, still frowning.
Quinn just shrugged. "I may or may not have let slipped their misdemeanors to Coach."
Santana snapped her eyes to Quinn. "You're something else, aren't you?" she muttered with a grudging smile.
Brittany looped her arm around Quinn's and rested her chin on her shoulder. "Thank you."
Quinn turned her face away. "You two warm up or you'll be running laps."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, vice-captain."
With one last squeeze on her arm, Brittany let Quinn go and joined Santana for warm-ups.
xxx
Santana no longer snuck off in between classes.
Brittany only realized this on Wednesday, when she was standing by her locker, waiting for Santana. It was kind of strange to think how every new development in their relationship, like their daily early morning street-crossing routine and now them spending those minutes in between classes together, have felt so natural. In fact, Brittany was finding it increasingly difficult to remember how she had spent her mornings and in between classes without Santana.
(It made her think of that blank book again, how the first chapter only began when Santana came to her life. And as the words were being written out, they seem to say this was how things ought to be, so they were and so they would be.)
"Hey, Britt. Did you wait here long? Mr. Schuester kept me after class to talk about my test, and he even had the gall to correct me with my grammar," she groused as she opened her locker. "Like, hello, I'm the one who actually speaks Spanish here outside an academic institution. Wouldn't I, of all people, know when to use pensar and creer?"
Brittany just smiled. "Then why are you taking Spanish?"
Santana shrugged as she replaced her Spanish workbook with her geography textbook. "Easy A." Then she rolled her eyes. "But with the way Mr. Schuester's teaching Spanish, I might end up getting a B instead. B! In Spanish! My abuela's going to hit me with a chair if that happens." She closed her locker. "But before she does, I'm gonna set Mr. Schuester's sorry excuse of a car on fire—Lima Heights style." She stopped short as she mulled this over. "No wait, I might be actually doing him a favor if I do that."
Brittany would be lying if she didn't say that hearing Santana rant was one of the things she looked forward to every day. It wasn't because she actually liked hearing Santana trash people or stuff that irritated her (well, maybe she did; Santana's colorful vocabulary was pretty entertaining), but more of how she liked the idea that Santana was letting her in on her thoughts and feelings. Which was unlike before when their conversations were more perfunctory and were often initiated by Brittany.
Besides, whenever Santana ranted, her face would scrunch up and Brittany found this so freaking adorable that it was all she could do not to pinch her cheeks ('cause she has a feeling that Santana wouldn't be too pleased with it).
"So, how was your class, Britt?"
"Oh, the usual." Brittany didn't particularly enjoy talking about her classes since she always got yelled at or laughed at. But seeing Santana's attentive expression, she relented. "Well, we had another assignment, this time we were supposed to write about Nell and Tina, one's a villain and the other's a nun. We were to tell why they were so different, and I said that obviously one's a bad guy and the other prays for the salvation of our souls. Unless of course, Tina's also the kind of nun who totes a machine gun and shoots demons with it. And then Mrs. Renner told me to stop and to use my brain for once and then she didn't call on me again for the rest of the class."
"What a bitch!"
"It's fine. I think I just got everything wrong again."
"Britt…" Santana bit her lip. "Want me to come over after practice so that we can work on your assignment?"
"Yes, please," Brittany beamed. Then remembering something, her shoulders slumped. "Oh, I forgot, I have some chores to finish." After a few seconds, she perked up again. "How about Friday?"
"Friday's good. All right, we're gonna make that bitch eat her words."
Brittany raised her brows. "Wow, can one really eat words?" Then after a beat, "Do they taste bad?"
Santana furrowed her brows. "Wait, no, that's—" she began but she caught the twinkle in Brittany's eyes. She huffed. "I can't tell when you're being serious or not."
Brittany smirked. "You'll learn."
Santana pouted before breaking out into a smile. "Yeah, you bet your sweet ass I will. And I'll enjoy every minute of it."
"That makes the two of us." A pause. "Can I bet on your ass, too?" Brittany waggled her brows.
Santana rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Come on, charmer, let's go before we're late for Geography."
xxx
Brittany couldn't keep still.
She's been home for twenty minutes and she had arranged and rearranged her books and her notes on the table a zillion times now. She would have just waited downstairs but she was sure that she would just be pacing across the living room, or attempt to arrange the contents of the fridge by color and that usually annoyed her mother. So she sat herself on her bed again.
Lord Tubbington, who was settled nicely on top of her dresser, fixed his gaze on her.
Brittany shrugged self-consciously. "Hey, no judgment, Tubbs. I can't help it if I'm jitterbuggy. Santana's coming over and she's like the awesomest girl in the school, maybe in all of Lima. I bet when you see her, you'd be a smitten little kitten, too." She narrowed her eyes at him. "But you're not allowed to hit on her; she's my friend. And besides, I know you've been eyeing that pretty tabby."
Lord Tubbington didn't say anything, just continued watching her.
She rolled her eyes. "No, she's not replacing you, Tubbs. You'll always be my number one confidant. Besides, no one can ever replace anyone."
Ding-dong.
Brittany jumped to her feet. "She's here!" She bounded over to the door. But before she left, she turned to Lord Tubbington again. "Now don't you run off. She can't be your girlfriend, but you two can be friends." She smiled. "I'd really like it if you two can be friends. It would mean the world to me."
With that, she hurried downstairs.
Her mother had already opened the door. Santana was standing at the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously.
"Yes, how may I help you?"
"Um, hi, I'm here for Brittany?"
A pause. "Oh, right, right. She's upstairs, I think."
"I'm here," said Brittany, reaching the bottom of the stairs. She quickly took in the confused expression on Santana's face and the distracted one on her mother's.
"I'm going to watch Hailey's soccer match," Brittany's mother said, as she finished putting on her earring. "We'll be back later. If you get hungry, I think there's still a plate of mac-n'-cheese at the fridge you can heat up." She grabbed her handbag and was about to go out of the door (Santana had stepped aside to let her through) but turned to Brittany at the last second. "Do you want to come along?"
Brittany smiled but shook her head. "Nah, Santana's here to help me study. Besides, I don't think Hailey minds. She told me it was just a practice match anyway."
"Right, right," her mother's head bobbed up and down. "Well you girls behave yourselves. There's a plate of mac-n'-cheese at the fridge you can heat up." She furrowed her brows before shaking her head and walking towards the driveway.
When she was gone, Santana walked in, her eyes still following the direction Brittany's mother's car drove off to. "Your mom seems pretty… preoccupied."
"That's just how she is. She forgets things a lot, too. I think I got that from her."
"Oh." Santana stopped at the hallway, frowning.
"Let's go upstairs? All my stuff are in my room."
"Okay."
"Oh and Lord Tubbington's psyched to see you."
"Lord Tubb—whoa! that's one fucking enormous cat! What does it weigh, ten tons?"
"San, be nice. Tubbs may not show it, but he's kinda sensitive with his weight."
"No kidding," Santana muttered as she dropped her bag at the foot of Brittany's bed. She had her back turned to Lord Tubbington but she must have felt his gaze on her. She cautiously turned around to meet his eyes.
Brittany watched in amusement as Santana entered into a staring match with her cat.
"San, what are you doing?"
"Shh, Britt. I know how guys like this work. You have to show them that you're not intimidated, communicate through your eyes the strength of your spirit."
Brittany rolled her eyes but she bit back her laughter. Santana was 100% serious with this. It actually made Brittany's heart melt a little.
"It's all right, San. Lord Tubbington and I have an understanding; he won't bother us, he just wants to get to know you a bit."
"Well, I must tell you, my experience with felines has taught me how this usually goes down: with a lot of hisses and screams and scratches and claw marks. On both parties."
"Tubbs is different. He's the sweetest thing. Even though he's in the mafia. Actually, I don't think those things are mucho exclusive anyway."
"They aren't?" Santana frowned, finally breaking the staring match to turn to look at Brittany.
"No. I mean, you're kinda mean to other people but you're also incredibly nice, too."
Santana ducked her head. "You know that's not true."
"You're nice to me," Brittany pointed out.
If she hadn't been listening carefully, she would've missed Santana's mumbled "Only to you." But Brittany heard it and she couldn't help but walked over to Santana until they were standing face-to-face, well as much as Santana's bowed head would allow.
"Hey." Brittany bumped her forehead against the top of Santana's head. Santana reluctantly lifted her face so that they were now looking at each other. "You are the nicest, smartest and hottest person I've ever known. That's an indisposable fact."
"Indisputable," Santana blurted out.
Brittany grinned. "See? Other people would've just rolled their eyes at me or laugh or correct me with the better-than-thou look on their faces. You don't."
Santana opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared and stared at Brittany.
Brittany couldn't read the expression on Santana's eyes; sure, she could see the questioning look in them, but it wasn't just that. There was something else, something she couldn't define yet.
Meow!
Brittany was jolted out of her thoughts to realize that she and Santana had moved so close to each other that they could practically feel each other breathe. Brittany blushed. Santana jumped back and began rifling through her backpack.
Brittany didn't know whether to be mad at or grateful to Lord Tubbington for his timely interruption.
"So, anyway, I brought some cookies since munching on something always helps me when I'm studying." Santana took out a plastic container filled with chocolate chip cookies.
"Did you make these?"
Santana gave a small awkward laugh. "Well yeah, after my high school glory days, I do intend to follow the footsteps of the many unremembered women before us. Women who had toiled and served food for their ungrateful husbands and kids and stayed at home and have no other pastime than knitting and baking. Be a Susie Homemaker, so to speak." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "So I thought why not practice early?"
It seemed like a joke, the way Santana said it, but somehow Brittany couldn't shake the feeling that some parts of it were said in earnest. Not sure what the proper response would be, Brittany thought 'what the hell' and said, "You don't strike me as someone who'd settle for that. Besides, you can be good at cooking and baking and knitting and still be something else." Brittany beamed. "I'm good at dancing but that's not all I'm gonna do."
"Well, you are a very talented individual, Miss Pierce," said Santana in a faux-British accent.
"Why thank you, Miss Lopez. I accept that compliment graciously." Brittany made a small bow. "And I would say the same to you, but I fear you would only wave away my ardent admiration."
Santana burst into a fit of giggles, which Brittany promptly joined in.
"Besides," Brittany added, "I have this feeling there is still much about you I have yet to learn."
Santana turned to look at her with a soft smile on her face. But it was gone in a moment. "Anyway, we've goofed off long enough. Let's start working on your assignment." When Brittany pouted, Santana added, "So that we can also start on the cookies."
The next hour was spent on Santana explaining the difference in structure and rhyme scheme between villanelles and sestinas. Lord Tubbington occasionally interrupted their study session as he tried to get into the cookie goodies, to which of course Brittany stopped him, saying that he had to follow his diet plan if he ever wants to win the heart of that orange tabby she had seen him singing to the other night.
Santana stretched her arms. She looked outside the window and saw that it was already dark.
"How long do these soccer matches usually last? I was under the impression that your family would've arrived by now."
Brittany look up from her notes which were spread on her bed. "They probably had a celebratory dinner or something. Are you hungry?"
Santana frowned. "They're having dinner without you?"
Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Brittany sat up. "Yeah, it happens. I mean, it is Hailey's soccer match."
"Practice match."
"A match nonetheless."
"But you're part of the family, too."
Brittany just shrugged. "They just forget sometimes." When the frown on Santana's face still didn't disappear, Brittany said, "Hey, it's no biggie."
"But how could they forget you?"
"I guess they just have a lot of things on their minds. I mean, I forget a lot of things, too, when I have many things to think about, like Nells and Tinas. Sometimes, I even forget to eat breakfast." She scooted closer to Santana, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Besides, they always end up remembering to bring me something anyway. Or at least, Hailey does. She's the best little sister in the entire world. She's kinda bratty sometimes but she's generally sweet. Hey, I'm sure you two would get along."
"Britt… how can you be so nonchalant about this?"
"Non-chalice?"
"Nonchalant. Unconcerned."
Brittany shrugged again. "Because it just is. That's how it's always been and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. It's not like I'm missing anything, 'cause Hailey always makes it a point to tell me if something important happened." Her eyes flickered between Santana's. "Don't look at me like that," she said softly.
"Like what?"
"Don't look at me sad like that. I don't know what to do with that, Santana, and I don't think there's anything you should be sad for me for."
"Britt, I—" but she stopped short. Santana just shook her head. "Nothing, never mind." Then after hesitating for a moment, she said, "I have to go."
Brittany nodded. She had initially wanted Santana to stay and eat mac-n'-cheese with her but she had already guessed by the heavy atmosphere that it would've ended up being awkward.
"Will you be all right by yourself?"
Brittany smiled. "This isn't the first time I've been left alone, Santana."
The words "That doesn't necessarily mean it's still all right" came out of Santana's mouth before she could stop it. Her eyes widened and she snapped her mouth shut. She hastily grabbed her backpack and with a quick "Goodbye, see you on Monday" she left.
As Brittany sat alone in her room (Lord Tubbington had wandered off downstairs when he realized he wouldn't be able to get a cookie), she had this unsettling feeling that Santana had just opened one of the sealed boxes inside her head.
And also that it wouldn't be the last.
xxx
When Brittany saw Santana on Monday at the street corner a few blocks away from school, she skipped over to her and gave her a sunny smile. "Happy Monday morning!"
Santana, who had been fidgeting the whole time she was waiting, returned the smile weakly. "Good morning to you, too."
Brittany frowned. "What's wrong? You're looking a little pale."
"Just cramps."
"Haven't you taken anything?" Brittany asked, concerned. "We can stop by the farm."
Santana fought back a smile. "I'll just swing by the clinic at school after practice." When they held hands as they crossed the street, Brittany's thumb rubbed small circles on the back of Santana's hand. "Did you eat your breakfast today?"
Brittany turned to look at her, but Santana kept her eyes in front of her. Still, a small smile played on Brittany's lips. "Yeah, I did. Though we ran out of Lucky Charms, so not so much."
Santana hummed in response. When they reached the other side, Santana withdrew her hand from Brittany's hold, making Brittany pout in confusion. But Santana didn't see it since she was busy looking something from her backpack. After a minute, she took out a small pink lunchbox with a Hello Kitty design, which made Brittany say "Aww."
"Shut up, it was a phase," Santana mumbled, pushing the lunchbox to Brittany.
"Hello Kitty is never just a phase; it's a lifestyle," Brittany said seriously. She took the lunchbox. "Um, are we having lunch for breakfast?"
"No, that's just for you. You know, in case you're still hungry or something." Santana looked away. A big, warm feeling bloomed in Brittany's chest and she felt the urge to wrap Santana up in a hug. But she stopped herself, since Santana still looked out of it, and plus, she might spill the contents of the lunchbox. So instead, she quickly pressed a kiss on Santana's cheek before she opened the lunchbox.
"Brownies!" Brittany squealed as she saw what was inside. "This sure beats breakfast for dinner—dessert for breakfast!" She took one and started eating. She closed her eyes and moaned. "This is so good."
Santana coughed awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, Britt? I think we should get going." When Brittany opened her eyes, she saw Santana glancing around her, evidently flustered
"Okay." But she couldn't stop herself from teasing, she leaned over and whispered to Santana's ear, "But it really was orgasmic."
"Brittany!" Santana jumped back but immediately regretted the sudden movement as her face contorted with a grimace.
"Oh my gosh, Santana, I'm so sorry, are you all right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Santana took a deep breath. "Let's go?"
"But the brownies?"
"You can just eat them while we walk."
"Yeah but then I wouldn't be able to hold your hand."
Santana let out a little laugh that sounded almost bashful. "It's all right, Britt. I'm not gonna leave you behind."
'It's not that,' Brittany thought, but she supposed there really wasn't any way to hold the lunchbox, take the brownie and also hold Santana's hand all at the same time. (She really wished she had three hands at this moment.) So she just nodded and chewed on another brownie.
They started walking again and Brittany, with her cheek bulging with chewed brownie, said, "It's amazing how you knew I'd rather have sweets for breakfast."
Santana stole a quick glance at her before answering. "I thought of just packing you what I had for breakfast but my mother would have asked too many questions. Besides, that would have been harder for you to eat before practice."
"Mm-hmm," Brittany hummed, not buying into it.
Santana rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. "All right. I don't know, maybe the Skittles and Pop Tarts that were on your room were a dead giveaway. That and the way you managed to eat most of the cookies ten minutes into studying."
That made Brittany burst into giggles. "Excellent work, detective."
"Elementary, my dear Watson."
"High school, you mean. And it's Pierce, not Watson."
"Nice try, Britt," said Santana with a wry smile, not even glancing at her.
Brittany raised her brows, impressed. "Ooh, somebody seems to have Poker Face figured out."
"Who knew that spending an afternoon with you would have sped up the process," Santana turned to her with a smirk. But it soon softened into a shy smile. "Don't expect me to get it right every time, though."
"Nuh-uh. You've already gotten my hopes up. You just have to come over often enough then." Santana paused, a slight crinkle forming between her brows. Brittany added, "Besides, you did promise to help me out with schoolwork and I've been having trouble with a looot of 'em."
Santana's frown was replaced with a reluctant smile. She rolled her eyes. "Sure."
"Awesome!"
"Why do I feel that you always get me to do what you want?"
"Maybe because it's what you want, too?"
Santana stopped walking. Brittany stopped too and she turned to Santana. "San?" But Santana didn't say anything and just looked straight at Brittany's eyes, as if searching for something in them.
Brittany didn't know what it was Santana was looking for or what she was seeing now. What Brittany did know was that she was seeing something like fear flicker behind Santana's eyes—fear and suspicion and the now-familiar blankness that didn't signify emptiness but a wall.
(A wall behind which Brittany suspected most of Santana's thoughts and emotions were hidden.
The fact that she could now identify more than one feeling in those eyes made Brittany wonder if she was getting good at deciphering Santana's looks, or if it was because Santana was slowly letting her in, maybe without even knowing it.
Or it could be both.)
Brittany was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice that Santana had looked away and was now walking again. She quickly followed Santana's pace. She was thinking of what to say to lighten up the mood but Santana beat her to it.
"You better finish those up before anyone sees you. God knows Coach Sylvester's gonna flip when she finds out we actually eat."
Brittany nodded and concentrated on eating. When McKinley High was in sight, Brittany had eaten all save two and Santana told her to just keep it for when she gets hungry in between classes.
Quinn, as usual, was already in the field. She was talking to their captain when she spotted them. She excused herself and went over to them.
"You two are late."
"No, we're not. Coach isn't even here," Santana said.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "If she was, then you two wouldn't be just late. You two would be dead. Anyway, what Melinda and I have—Brittany, are those brownie crumbs on your face?"
"Huh, what, no!" Brittany hastily rubbed her face with the back of her hand.
"Don't tell me you've been eating brownies. If Coach finds out, she's going to make you run until you vomit."
"She won't, if no one's gonna be a tattletale," Santana snapped back.
Quinn turned to Santana. "And what's wrong with you? You're looking awful."
"Oh gee, thanks for the compliment."
"Are you going to tell me or do you want Coach to be the one to ask you?"
Santana glared at her but still didn't say anything.
"She's got the cramps," Brittany finally said. "She forgot to take painkillers."
Quinn looked at Brittany and then back to Santana. She raised an eyebrow. "That's a first; you never forget anything. Don't you have some stocked up in your locker?"
"No," Santana gritted out.
Quinn narrowed her eyes. Then she sighed. "Come with me. I think I still have some."
"Isn't Coach arriving any minute now?"
"Then we just have to start moving this very instant, don't we?"
Santana muttered something to herself, as she grudgingly followed Quinn to the locker room.
They both came back just seconds before Coach appeared, yelling abuse through her megaphone. Despite the fact that Santana still looked a little off, she didn't mess up the routine and the morning practice went off without a hitch.
Through the rest of the day, Santana acted like she always did. At first, Brittany thought that the painkillers were doing their job pretty well. But it didn't take long for her to realize the slight difference in Santana's actions today. She was more sluggish and a bit listless and didn't talk much, though not enough to call anybody else's attention.
(But then again nobody paid much attention to anyone anyway, except maybe those lovesick fools who watched their crushes like a hawk. And of course, concerned best friends.)
Brittany would have asked how she was doing but the very fact that Santana was trying so hard to look okay made her reconsider.
Later, when Brittany asked if she was coming over after the afternoon practice, Santana just shook her head and said that she probably wouldn't be able to concentrate.
"Okay, but we could just sit on the couch and watch Sweet Valley High and not do school stuff."
Santana smiled thinly. "I'd really rather be alone, Britt." Then realizing how it sounded, she amended, "Next week, for sure."
Brittany nodded. She watched as Santana packed her things and left the locker room, the first time since the party she and Brittany didn't leave together.
She frowned when she realized that what Santana just said seemed to be at odds with what she told Brittany last Friday.
xxx
"So, your name's Brittany, right?"
Brittany looked up and found herself looking at a tall broad-shouldered guy with sandy-brown hair, wearing a letterman jacket. He leaned against the row of lockers on his shoulder. "You know I've been seeing you around. At the parties, Cheerio practice. You've got pretty sweet moves." He waited for Brittany to respond but she just looked back at him. He started fidgeting. "Tom Hunter, baseball team."
"Have you found Jerry?"
"Who's Je—oh, Tom and Jerry. Yeah." He let out a small awkward laugh. "Like that. Tom. I mean, I'm Tom."
Brittany smiled. "I like Tom."
"Great." The guy looked a little relieved. He started running his hand through his hair. "I was actually wondering if you're doing anything after school today."
Brittany shook her head. "Not that I can remember."
The guy nodded. "All right, great. What do you say I take you to this really good diner at the edge of town?"
Brittany bit her lip for a moment. "Sure."
The guy broke into a huge grin and Brittany thought he was kinda cute. "Awesome. So I'll just wait for you out on the parking lot later."
"Okay."
"Okay," the guy echoed. He straightened himself up and with a "See you later," he turned around and walked away.
"Who was that?"
Brittany nearly jumped in surprise. She looked behind her and saw Santana.
"Tom Hummer, softball team. I think."
Santana just looked at the retreating figure until he disappeared around the corner before turning to look at Brittany. "Oh. What did he want?"
"He just wanted to ask me out."
"Okay."
"And I said yes."
"Okay."
Brittany waited for Santana to say something more but she just went over to her locker and started putting back her textbook from the previous period and getting the one for the next. If Brittany counted correctly (and she was pretty confident with her math skills so long as the numbers involved were of the single digit variety), it was the third day of Santana's period. Also the third day of her being a bit subdued overall. Brittany wished she could do something about it but she didn't know what. She never had much trouble with hers, and she rarely ever got cramps. It just made her a little bit sad that Santana wasn't feeling 100% all right.
(And maybe also because Santana liked to pretend that she wasn't not feeling 100% all right.)
"Was it okay I said yes?"
Santana frowned. "Why are you asking me?" she asked a little too sharply.
Brittany was slightly taken aback but she recovered quickly. "Because you're—"
"Look, you don't have to consult me every single time some guy asks you out." Santana's eyes widened and she snapped her mouth shut. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She let out a small sigh. "Sorry… I-I didn't mean to snap at you."
"It's okay, Santana. I understand." Santana opened her eyes, and Brittany could see they were muddled. "Are you still having cramps?"
"Yeah. They're not usually this bad, though." She closed her locker. "It's fine. You going out with that guy, I mean. He looks decent. Quite plain and could really use a good haircut, but decent."
Brittany smiled. "Yeah. You know what, I think we can double! That will make it more fun!"
Santana grimaced. "I'd rather not. In my current state, prolonged exposure to the male species makes me puke." The bell for fifth period rang. "Ugh, Math. You have Social Studies, right?" Brittany nodded. It always made her insides tingle, the fact that Santana knew Brittany's schedule. "So I guess we part ways here." Santana turned around to walk towards her class. Brittany's was at the opposite direction. But she just stood there to watch as Santana walk away.
(Brittany would never walk away first. She thought it was because she loved watching Santana and she wouldn't miss a second of it, if she could help it.)
But before Santana turned around the corner, she looked back and said, "Don't forget to make him work for it. Tell me the awful details later and I'll commiserate with you."
Brittany laughed. "I promise."
The date actually went pretty well. Tom was nice, didn't talk too much about himself, listened to Brittany when she talked (though it was obvious he didn't understand 98% of what she was saying), didn't make any suggestive jokes or movements, and even opened the door for her.
And yet, Brittany couldn't stop thinking about Santana, if she was feeling better, what she was doing at this very moment, and wishing she was there with her, too.
(Even when Santana was in her cranky mood, Brittany still wanted to be with her.)
When she and Tom started making out in his car, she was surprised to find out that she couldn't keep her mind from wandering, from looking forward to the prospect of calling Santana and hearing her voice. This has never happened before since whenever Brittany did 'stuff' with guys, she was always in the moment. Doing 'stuff' was something she enjoyed, after all. But now, right now, with this guy who was both cute and nice, Brittany just couldn't be in the moment.
So she pulled back and said that she forgot that she had to check up on Lord Tubbington's blood pressure so she had to be home soon. Tom nodded and didn't look pissed that their make-out session was cut short.
When Brittany had bounded up to her room and dialled Santana's number, she had already forgotten what Tom Hunter looked like.
xxx
Santana was back to her normal self the following week.
Which, of course, made Brittany ecstatic.
But that was only one-half of the reason. The other half had something to do with the fact that Santana would be coming over to her place to help her study. To be clear though, it wasn't the actual studying part that Brittany was looking forward to; it was the private-Santana part, which Brittany had figured out that only she was privy to.
(Her stomach did somersaults and cartwheels at the thought.)
"What are these ribbons for?"
"Lord Tubbington likes to dress up sometimes. He says ribbons make him feel pretty."
"No, Britt. I mean these award ribbons."
Brittany turned from her seat to see what Santana was looking at. "Oh, those. Some are from the athletic meets back in grade school and middle school; and ooh, some were from talent competitions. Look at that big blue one. Guess what I did to win that."
"Um, you danced?"
Brittany smiled but shook her head. "I did a re-enactment of the Little Mermaid."
Santana's whole face lit up. Brittany felt her chest grow warm at the sight. "Oh wow! How did—was it just you alone—or was it—?"
"Just me. The tricky part was the transformation sequence, but with the help of some magic lent by my Fairy God-cat, I pulled it off." She puffed her chest proudly. "I designed my costumes myself."
Santana beamed but after a while, she knitted her brows. "My imagination sucks; I can't imagine how you did it. Do you have a video of that or something?"
Brittany's face fell. "No," she said. "My parents arrived late and they forgot the camera, so." She shrugged.
A shadow crossed Santana's face and Brittany almost expected her to frown or look sad or outraged or say something along 'How could they!' But to her surprise, Santana smiled. "Will you be repeating that performance anytime soon?"
"Maybe," said Brittany, drawing out the syllables. "It depends. Squid bro code."
"Squid what?"
"What do I get in return? Wait, it is squid bro code, right?"
Santana's lips quirked up. "Not quite but I like that better. Okay, what do you want?"
"I don't knooow. You don't tell me much so I don't know what your talents are."
Santana laughed. "I told you, being a Susie Homemaker." Brittany rolled her eyes. "Okay fine. I'll think it over."
"You can't think of anything now?"
Santana shook her head. "Nope."
Brittany narrowed her eyes. "Just so you know, I don't believe you." Santana just shrugged her shoulders. "You're unfair."
"No, I'm not. And, I know what you're doing. You're stalling."
"You're the one who asked about the ribbons," she shot back.
That made Santana pause. "Okay, point taken." Brittany pumped her fist in the air before making a V-sign. Santana fought back a smile.
"Oh, did you know that the peace sign, the circular one hippies use, is actually that of an airplane caught inside a circle?"
"No, I didn't know that. How does a plane become a peace sign? Is it like a metaphorical dove?"
"The circle is supposed to keep the plane from moving, 'cause they used the planes to carry bombs back then, right? So if the planes couldn't move—"
"—the bombs wouldn't be dropped. Oh." Santana thought about this for a moment.
"Cool, huh?"
"How'd you know about this?"
"It came to me in a fevered dream." Brittany grinned. "I forgot how I came across it; maybe I read it somewhere, maybe somebody told me. Oh, oh! Did you know that beetles taste like apples?"
"Really? How do you know that—wait a minute. You're stalling." Santana narrowed her eyes. "You're definitely stalling." Brittany turned away guiltily. "You know, if you keep doing this, we won't be getting much work done before I have to leave."
"Well…" Brittany shot stealthy glances at Santana. "You can just stay over. That way, we can have enough time for schoolwork and getting to know each other."
"Getting to know each other?"
"Yeah, 'cause, like, there are so many things about you I want to know about. I mean, I want to make up for the lost years." Brittany felt her face and the tips of her ears go hot.
Santana's expression softened. "Oh Britt."
Brittany coughed to cover her blush. "So, is that a yes? Are you staying over?"
"Not tonight. I don't have my stuff." Santana paused for a moment. Then she smiled. "But I can, tomorrow."
Brittany leapt out of her chair and launched herself to Santana, wrapping her in a hug. Santana stiffened for a moment before melting into her embrace. As she did so, Brittany felt a calmness descend on her entire body, a stark contrast to the adrenaline rush that propelled her to Santana's arms. She didn't ponder on the how and why of this, she couldn't, not when it was easier and made much more sense to just let this moment go on for as long as she could.
Santana seemed to be thinking the same thing since she didn't make a move other than to wrap her arms around Brittany's torso.
Eventually though, they disentangled themselves from each other, both of them wearing soft smiles.
"So tomorrow."
"Yeah, tomorrow. Your parents don't have rules on sleepovers?"
"Nope. You can stay over as often as you like."
"You mean as often as you like," Santana teased.
"Will neither confirm nor deny."
Santana rolled her eyes, still smiling. "All right, enough goofing off. Let's go back to those math problems."
xxx
When Hailey first met Santana, she asked in a not-too-friendly voice, "Who are you and why haven't I seen you before?"
To which Santana merely raised a brow at her and then turned to Brittany with a look that plainly said 'Who is this munchkin?'
"Be nice, Hailey. This is Santana; her family moved here from Cleveland just this year."
Hailey's bright blue eyes, which were so similar to Brittany's but different too in the way that they were always so sharp and piercing (pun not intended) when Brittany's were open and calm, darted from Brittany's face to Santana's. She frowned. "What, can't she speak for herself? Is she, like, mute or something?"
Brittany glanced hastily at Santana and saw a vein throb on her temple. Santana narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw and Brittany had seen this look enough times to know that it usually preceded a slew of vicious, vicious words.
"She, uh—"
"Look here, Thumbelina. Why don't you go back to your thimble and scrounge around for some manners because I ain't taking no shiii—izzles" Brittany sucked in her lips to keep from laughing at the save "from you. And you're gonna be seeing a lot of me from now on, so it would be to your best interest to not piss me off, 'cause you don't want to mess with Snix."
Hailey met Santana's gaze, unperturbed. "Who's Snix?"
Santana crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Snix is my alter ego who's well-versed in good ole Lima Heights hospitality."
Hailey's eyes darted between Brittany and Santana again. After a moment, she said, "I'd like to talk to Snix."
"Snix ain't talking to no smurfette."
Hailey glared at Santana, who also glared back. Brittany shifted uncomfortably. Okay, maybe thinking that her sister and Santana would get along right away and have tea and crumpets together in Hailey's room surrounded by Mr. Snugglepants, Ms. Cuddlygoo and Ms. Rainbowheart was a stretch. But she earnestly hoped that this wouldn't escalate to a catfight.
She feared for Santana's safety.
"Fine," Santana said through gritted teeth. "What do you want to talk about?"
"That's Snix?" Hailey asked, unimpressed.
"Why you little twerp—"
"Fine, I can work with that. Follow me, if you please."
Santana shot a questioning glance at Brittany, who just shrugged. Santana turned back to Hailey and nodded curtly. They made their way to Hailey's room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
"In case she has to make a break for it," Hailey whispered to Brittany before disappearing into the room.
Brittany went to her room, which was on the opposite end of the hallway. She didn't know what was going on in Hailey's room since Santana was the first person she had brought over to the house, and so the first to be subjected to Hailey's welcome. In any case, Brittany wasn't too worried. She had confidence in Santana. Besides, Hailey did leave the door open for her to escape.
She didn't realized she had dozed off until Santana tapped her arm.
"Britt?"
Brittany rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Time is it?" she mumbled.
"A little after six."
Brittany blinked owlishly as she looked around her. It was already dark. "How'd it go with Hailey?"
Santana sat herself on the bed beside Brittany. "Well, we had a serious discussion regarding house rules. Over tea and crumpets."
A huge grin broke through Brittany's face. "Told you you two would get along."
"'Get along' would be stretching things too far, don't you think?" But Santana was smiling. "That Lilliputian sure is something. I can envision a bright future in interrogation and intimidation for her."
After that, Hailey tried crashing into their study sessions but never stayed for longer than fifteen minutes since she would get bored. Eventually, she would just drop by to say 'Hi' or 'Goodnight' to Brittany (and blow her raspberry at Santana).
Brittany's parents were more or less welcoming of Santana. Over dinner (when the entire family was home), they would ask about Santana's family. The same question every single time. But Santana didn't seem to mind and she would answer politely (while trading kicks with Hailey under the table).
This made Brittany quite happy. Not the least because she was seeing changes, small ones but still, in her family. Like how her parents seem to remember her more and more often, especially when Santana would bring up what happened at school that day. Or how Hailey began to talk more, as if competing with Santana in telling stories.
Somehow, things seemed to have gotten a bit better at home.
Unsurprisingly, the sleepovers soon became a regular thing.
So much so that Brittany had taken to clearing a drawer and a spot on her closet for Santana's clothes and toiletries. Sometimes, they even did their laundry together so that Santana needn't have to bring her clothes back to her house just to have them washed and then bring them back again. It was like they were living together in Brittany's room.
The routine was simple: they come home, talk about random stuff, study, eat dinner, study a little more (but which almost always devolved into them giving out random trivia about themselves), get ready for bed, then sleep.
Brittany loved everything about the routine, but after one particular night, she began loving one part more.
On the first night that Santana stayed over, she asked where the spare bed was. Brittany just looked at her blankly before saying, "You're sleeping on my bed with me."
Santana sucked in her lips as a tiny frown creased her brows. "But will we fit?"
"Duh. Of course. I don't move around so much in my sleep. Why, do you?"
Santana shook her head. "Not really." But she still wore a frown.
"We can spoon, you know. That way we get both a cuddle buddy and a sort-of blanket!"
Santana's eyes widened and she quickly looked away. She coughed awkwardly. "I, uh, I kinda like my own space when sleeping…"
"Oh." Brittany deflated.
Santana glanced at her. After a moment, she sighed. "We'll find a way."
The way was this: Brittany and Santana slept on the same bed, Brittany on the right side and Santana on the left.
(Santana had asked which side Brittany preferred, and to be honest, she did prefer the left 'cause she liked looking out of the window. But that was before Santana. Now, she would rather see the moonlight or the sunlight and then them on Santana.)
But Santana would always, always settle close to the edge, as if wanting to put as much distance as possible (without being too obvious about it) between her and Brittany, and always with her back turned towards her. Brittany would have liked that distance to be non-existent but she respected Santana's need for space.
(That didn't mean she wouldn't make attempts though. Just a little each night until Santana realized being close to her wasn't so bad.)
And yet, it wasn't Brittany's subtle scheming that would close the distance between her and Santana.
When Brittany woke up in the middle of the night, she found Santana standing beside the bed, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Whatcha doin'?" Brittany asked sleepily.
"I just went to pee and when I came back, Tubbs took over my side," Santana grumbled.
Brittany peered down at the bed and sure enough, Lord Tubbington all curled up nicely on Santana's side. She chuckled before closing her eyes again.
"It's not funny, Britt. Where am I gonna sleep?" There was that little whine in Santana's voice that Brittany hadn't heard before. For a brief moment, she saw Santana as a little girl. The image made her smile.
"Come here," Brittany mumbled, patting to her right as she scooted closer to Lord Tubbington to make space.
"It's too small."
Brittany rolled over until she was lying on her side. She opened her arms. "Come here," she mumbled again, her eyes still closed.
Santana hesitated, perhaps debating with herself whether to sacrifice space or sleep. Eventually, the need for sleep won out and she padded over to Brittany's side. She settled herself gingerly on the space Brittany provided, careful to still keep a few centimetres of space between them.
Which was rendered meaningless as Brittany put her arm around Santana's middle and snuggled closer to her so that her front was touching Santana's back.
But even in her half-awake state, Brittany could sense the shuddering breath that Santana let out. And then, she relaxed and her breathing evened out.
Brittany smiled and she was soon drifting back to sleep.
Santana didn't say anything about it in the morning, but later that night, she didn't settle near the edge of the bed anymore.
xxx
"What do you think about the boys in our school?" Santana asked one night as they were getting ready to go to bed. She plopped herself on the bed, making Brittany, who was already seated on it, giggle. It was refreshing and altogether delightful to see Santana relax and act like a kid. Somehow, this made it easier for Brittany to get over missing those times she didn't get to watch Santana grow up.
"Britt?"
"Huh, what?"
Santana rolled her eyes playfully. "I said, what do you think about the boys in our school?"
"Oh." Brittany tilted her head to the side. "I don't know; I haven't thought about them in a while," she answered honestly.
Santana scoffed. "What are you talking about? That's all girls our age and of our position are supposed to think about."
"But I don't." A pause. "Do you?"
Santana was silent for a moment. Eventually she admitted, "No. Not really."
"I doubt Quinn even thinks about them either."
"Au contraire, Britt-Britt, our virginal princess has expressed interest in one bumbling giant in the football team," Santana whispered conspiratorially. She sat up. "Which is why I'm asking what you think. I mean, I don't want us to be going after the same guy now."
Brittany felt a knot form in her stomach. "Oh. Do you already have someone in mind?"
"Nah. Well, maybe Puck." Santana shrugged. "If no one better comes along."
"I thought you didn't like Puck."
"I don't. But I don't like any of the boys either. He just seems to be the most viable option at the moment."
"Not all of them are bad. I mean some are pretty good actually." Then she added, a little meanly, "Better than Puck."
Santana frowned. "What do you mean?"
Brittany blinked. "In bed."
Santana's eyes widened comically. "I-I wasn't…" she stuttered before just giving up and looking away.
"Ohh."
Santana became silent again. Then she looked up, almost shyly. "How many have you slept with?"
"I don't know, I lost count."
Santana raised her brows. "That many?"
"Maybe. I don't know." Then, curiously, "How about you?"
Santana shrugged. "Many, too, I guess."
Brittany looked at Santana and noticed the way her shoulders slumped. "They weren't good?"
"They were decent."
"Oh, okay." Santana didn't seem too inclined to talk about it, so Brittany didn't say anything more.
"Lights out?"
"Okay."
Santana jumped off the bed and switched off the lights. She returned just as quick. These nights, Santana no longer kept her distance from Brittany nor have her back turned towards her. Brittany could now look at Santana's face and hold her close as she slept, and each time she did so, she would feel this surge of happiness followed by gentle calm. It made Brittany think that she was a little mermaid and Santana was the sea calling her home at last.
Santana looked at her curiously. "Why are you smiling, Britt-Britt?"
"I'm just happy."
"About what?"
"Having you here."
That made Santana smile widely, almost self-consciously, her dimples showing. Brittany loved that smile on her. She waited for Santana to close her eyes and mumble 'Goodnight,' like she usually did as soon as she had settled comfortably.
But tonight, she didn't do that. Tonight, she kept her eyes open, just looking at Brittany, looking at her like she was taking note of every detail on her face, and Brittany could almost feel that her gaze was a caress. Nobody had ever looked at her with such gentleness and attentiveness. Like she was the most beautiful person in the entire world.
(Which wasn't true. Santana was the most beautiful person in the world.
Also the sweetest, smartest and awesomest.)
Santana reached out to trace a line on Brittany's cheek with two fingers. Brittany couldn't help but let her eyes flutter close at the contact.
"Sorry," Santana whispered, drawing back her fingers. "The moon's bright tonight."
Brittany opened her eyes and caught Santana's retreating hand with her own. "It's all right."
She didn't let go of her hand and Santana didn't seem intent on having it back just yet so they laid like that for a while, hands clasped between them, just staring at each other.
Santana inched a little closer, as if drawn to her, to what she is seeing on Brittany's face.
Brittany could feel her heartbeat speed up. Santana was moving closer and closer, and Brittany felt one of Santana's legs brush against hers, sending a jolt straight to the spot between her legs, making her buck her hips.
Her eyes widened and she could feel her whole face heat up. She buried her face on the pillow and loosened her hold on Santana's hand, waiting for her to jerk away.
"Britt?" Santana's voice was soft.
Brittany turned to face her. Santana still hadn't pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry," Brittany mumbled. "It's been a while."
Santana nodded. "I know. We've been together practically every second of the day." A pause. "Am I keeping you?"
It took Brittany a while to process the question. When she understood, she shook her head vehemently. "No." Then because she just had to say it, "I-I'd rather be with you."
"Oh." Santana swallowed. Then she asked quietly, "Do you want to take care of it? I can leave."
"No, it's all right." Brittany blushed. "I've tried."
"Oh." Santana lowered her face. She didn't say anything for a long while. Brittany wondered if she had said the wrong thing. But it was true; she would rather be with Santana than with anybody else. Even if they promised to give her orgasms, nothing could ever come close to the feeling that being with Santana inspired.
Everything was silent for a long while that Brittany wondered if Santana had fallen asleep. Brittany squeezed her eyes shut and willed her still-racing heartbeat to slow down and the feeling between her legs to go away.
(This wasn't the first time she had felt it; being in close proximity with Santana at night had stirred up these sensations. But she had been able to stave them off most nights.)
Just as she had calmed her heart down, she heard Santana whisper, so soft that she almost thought she imagined it.
"Do you—um, do you want me to take care of it for you?"
Brittany's heartbeat sped right up again, stronger, faster and so loud she could practically hear it in her ears. She looked at Santana, wondering if the question was real and not part of her imaginings. After a prolonged agonizing silence broken only by their breathing, Santana stirred and made a move to inch away from Brittany. When she started drawing back her hand, Brittany held it tight.
"Okay," she said simply.
Santana raised her face and Brittany saw a mixture of fear, disbelief, hope and… want. She felt her breath escape her lungs and she gripped Santana's hand even tighter, as the sensation between her legs had turned into a burning ache.
When Santana still didn't make a move or say anything, Brittany took the hand she was holding and lowered it, close to where she needed it most. She loosened her grip and waited.
"Please," she whispered.
That seemed to be the last push Santana needed since she closed the distance between them. Brittany anticipated a kiss, but instead Santana had pressed her face against the side of Brittany's neck. The feel of Santana's hot breath made Brittany's senses go into overdrive, and she wrapped her arm around Santana and pulled her closer, until their bodies were flushed against each other. Santana started pressing hot, open kisses on Brittany's neck, making her moan.
Santana pulled back. "Shh."
Chest heaving, Brittany squeezed her eyes shut. She swallowed. "Please."
Santana didn't need to be told again and she returned to attack Brittany's neck, as her hand started inching to the skin revealed between the hem of Brittany's shirt and the top of her shorts. The first contact made Brittany buck her hips again and she wished that Santana would just go faster, but at the same time a part of her wished for everything to slow down so that she could take in everything that was happening at that moment. She let her own hand wander on Santana's back, slipping under her shirt and basking on her warmth, the feel of her smooth skin. Santana paused as she exhaled slowly, her entire body surrendering to Brittany for a moment, before her hand dipped lower, under Brittany's shorts, until she was cupping her over her panties.
Brittany couldn't take it anymore so she lowered her face to take Santana's earlobe between her teeth, sucking on it, before licking a trail down her neck. Santana's hips jerked. Brittany couldn't help but smile.
Santana wanted this, too.
Brittany boldly slipped her leg between Santana's. Santana stopped again. "Britt—" her voice was low and raspy.
"It's okay," Brittany whispered, kissing the spot just below Santana's jaw. But Santana still didn't move, just breathing hard. "It's okay," Brittany repeated. And she tried remembering what else to say, of situations similar to this. She found it, the three words that could calm Santana down.
"I won't tell."
With those words, Santana relaxed and started pressing open-mouthed kisses down Brittany's neck, alternately licking and sucking. Her hand began to move against Brittany's covered center, her middle finger stroking a line. Brittany buried her face on the pillow to muffle a moan even as her hips began to move rhythmically with Santana's movements.
"Inside," she gasped.
Santana just hummed and after stroking her two, three times more, she withdrew her hand to slip it under Brittany's underwear. Brittany knew that Santana had already felt how wet she was but now, when there was nothing between them, she couldn't help but blush at how obviously she had wanted this. When Santana's fingers dipped into her center, Brittany moaned into the pillow again. Santana took her time, touching, feeling Brittany down there, as if she was trying to learn her. Not wanting to leave her behind, Brittany withdrew her hand from Santana's back and slipped it under Santana's pyjamas, under her panties.
Santana sighed, as if she had been waiting for this. Brittany's fingers touched warm, soft and wet. She began to stroke Santana, the way she was doing to her right now, their rhythm matching. When Santana slipped a finger inside her, Brittany's hips jerked, seeking more. Soon it became two then three, and Brittany followed, burying her own fingers inside Santana. Their hands and hips began moving of their own accord, thrusting and undulating, until Brittany felt Santana tightening around her fingers, and then herself shaking, shaking so hard, coming right after Santana. Brittany held her close and she wanted nothing more than to kiss Santana's mouth that very moment, to taste her as she came, but Santana stubbornly kept her face on Brittany's neck.
They remained panting for a few minutes, before pulling their hands back. Santana still had her face averted, and Brittany began stroking Santana's back. After a while, Santana disentangled herself from Brittany.
"Santana—"
"Goodnight, Britt."
And Santana rolled over to face the window, her back turned to Brittany.
Brittany remained silent as she watched as Santana lay so tense, so still, as if the moonlight had turned her to stone. At the back of her head, she knew that tonight had caused a volcano of feelings to erupt. But right now, Brittany couldn't care.
Right now, all that mattered was something beautiful had happened between her and Santana.
