After some begging and pouting, Santana convinced her mother to make the trip back home right away so she could spend time and celebrate with Brittany. It took the remainder of their day, and a good portion of the night but Santana knew Brittany would still be up when they rolled into town around 2 am, and was pleased to see Brittany's bedroom light still on as her mother pulled up out front of the Pierce's house.
"Her parents are asleep. Don't make a lot of noise," her mother warned.
"Don't worry mama. See you tomorrow," Santana replied crawling out of the van. Brittany peeked out the window, the same as she had every five minutes for the last three hours as she anxiously waited for Santana's arrival. When she saw her, she jumped up and down excitedly and ran downstairs to let her in. Santana walked through the snow covered front yard, taking time to admire the snowman they had built a few days before, still sporting her hat and scarf.
"Sanny!" she heard coming toward her and before she knew what was happening, she was being tackled into the snow.
"Omph…" Santana managed to choke out as she landed on the cold ground with a thud, Brittany flush on top of her.
"Hey Brit…" she groaned, wiggling in an attempt to free herself.
"Not uh…" Brittany objected and grabbed both her arms, holding them down above her head to pin her in place.
"Tell me what happened first," Brittany continued. Santana found herself distracted for a moment by the position they were in, Brittany firmly straddling her hips, hovering closely above her face as she held her wrists tightly pinned to the ground. She'd be lying if she said she didn't nod off and have a few dreams about this in study hall. But that was normal, right? Every teenager fantasizes about kissing their best friend. The fact that Santana just happened to also have fantasies about dating, marrying and having an entire life with hers just made her creative right?
"Um…Brit, it's cold…" she whimpered.
"Shush and tell me about your audition, Sanny!" Brittany pleaded.
"I…uh…I got it," Santana replied with a grin.
"Oh my God! You're gonna be famous! Sanny bear! I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, releasing Santana's wrists and laying flush down on her again to hug her tightly. Santana gulped as she felt that tingly feeling appear in her lower abdomen. The same one she got when Brittany would bend over to pick up a book out of her locker or insist on eating a cup of yogurt by constantly dipping her tongue into it instead of just getting a spoon.
Santana took advantage of her now free arms and tied them around Brittany, using the leverage to flip them so she was on top of Brittany now. She pinned Brittany's wrists at her sides and bent down close to her face.
"Now tell me about the game. I heard you were a superstar," she said.
"I…got a hat trick," Brittany choked out, suddenly nervous by the shift in power in the situation. She was used to being in control and going for what she wanted, at least in hockey, but for some reason when it came to her beautiful best friend, she had always been just a little too shy to make a move. But truth was, she was getting impatient with herself. She had always wanted to be able to say that her girlfriend was up in the stands wearing her jersey, instead of just her best friend. And now she could say things like 'Oh yeah, my girlfriend's in the studio' or 'My girlfriend has a concert tonight'. She definitely liked the sound of that.
"Gonna need a little more than that. What was the score? When's the championship game?" Santana asked.
"Um, it was 5-3. And it's two weeks from now. It's in Cincinnati. I have to go on the team bus but mom said you can ride with her and my dad. They're getting a hotel room the day before the game," Brittany explained.
"Road trip with ma and pa Pierce? How can I say no?" Santana chuckled.
"You actually like road trips with my parents?" Brittany laughed back.
"Of course. They're like my parents too, Brit. I mean your dad is the closest thing I'll ever have anyway. They're amazing to me," Santana replied.
"Yeah they're not so bad," Brittany smiled up at Santana.
"We should go inside now because I'm freezing," Santana pointed out. When she tried to stand up, Brittany grabbed her by the collar of her peacoat and pulled her back down until their lips collided. Santana groaned in surprise as Brittany held her in place by the fistfuls of her coat.
"Brit?" was all Santana could choke out once they finally pulled their mouths apart. She touched her lips with trembling fingers, still feeling Brittany's warmth there, still tasting her strawberry lip balm.
"I…um…sorry San. Maybe we should've talked before I did that," Brittany stammered.
"Talk about what?" Santana wondered.
"Um…about me and how I've kinda always wanted to kiss you…and like, be more than friends. And about how I think we should like, date? And I've thought that for a while," Brittany admitted.
"Date. Like girlfriends?" Santana wondered. On the inside she was jumping for joy.
"Yeah. If you want. Oh God…please still be friends with me. If you don't want to date we can still be friends right? Oh God…I ruined everything," Brittany mumbled.
"Shut up, Brit," Santana grinned and leaned down, capturing Brittany's lips in her own once more. Brittany let herself relax when she felt Santana smile against her mouth. She was so unbelievably happy that she finally took a shot and didn't get turned down.
"Hmm, who would've guessed that Brittany Pierce the hockey stud would be gay?" Santana chuckled, placing a few kisses on Brittany's face.
"Hmm, who would've guessed that Santana Lopez would be such a huge dork!" Brittany replied.
"Hey, that's no way to talk about your girlfriend. Now come on, I'm freezing. Let's go cuddle," Santana stood up, offering her hand to Brittany. She pulled her up and the two headed inside hand in hand.
…A few weeks later…
"Hey babe," Brittany smiled as Santana approached her in the hallway. School was done for the day and she was gathering her things for hockey practice.
"Hi babe," Santana grinned back, leaning forward and pecking Brittany's lips.
"Last practice before the championship. I'm starting to get nervous now," Brittany admitted.
"Don't be. Don't forget your cheering section will be there. Me and ma and pa Pierce got our shirts and signs all ready to go," she grinned.
"Shirts? What do you mean, you always wear my jersey," Brittany shrugged.
"Yeah, well this is states baby, I wanted it to be special. I'm still going to wear your jersey at school all day tomorrow and for the pep rally. But for the game me and your mom made t-shirts. They say 'Pierce is Fierce' on them, they're pretty awesome. Me and your dad are even going to pain our faces red and black," Santana grinned proudly.
"God you're even turning my parents into bigger dorks!" Brittany laughed.
"What can I say, I'm the dork they never had," Santana replied.
"Are you staying for practice?" Brittany wondered.
"Can't. Mom's picking me up like, any minute and we're supposed to get a call from my agent. I have to go back to New York at some point and meet these girls I'm going to be singing with. And this time, you're coming!" Santana insisted.
"I know! Once hockey season is over I can like, follow you around the country. Well, at least during the summer I guess," Brittany decided.
"Yeah. It'll be awesome," Santana agreed, looking at her cell phone.
"Mom's outside, I gotta run. Have a good practice baby," she continued, leaning forward for another kiss. Brittany connected their lips, tying her arms around Santana's neck.
"Love you," she whispered as their foreheads pressed together.
"Love you," Santana replied, pulling away unwillingly and turning to leave.
…Later…
"Santana, get in here honey! Phil is calling!" her mother shouted, and Santana scampered into the room with a sandwich she had been munching on in her hand as her mother answered, putting him on speaker phone.
"Hello?" she greeted him.
"Ms. Lopez! It's Phil, Phil Turner! Great news, is Santana around?" he asked.
"She's right here next to me," she told him.
"Hi, Phil," Santana said through a mouth full of PBJ.
"Santana, don't be rude," her mother scolded.
"Hi Santana. So sorry it took a few weeks to get in touch. I've been running around like crazy working out this deal. Anyway, I played your demo and your audition tape for the girls, the band's manager…they all love you and they're ready to make this happen. So I need you in the city by tomorrow night, we're throwing a promoting party, then Saturday we work. We'll bust down some harmonies, talk about songs and what not," he explained.
"No! I can't do it Saturday, please! Please, any day but Saturday, I have to be in Cincinnati," she begged.
"In Cincinnati for a performance?" he asked.
"No…a hockey game. It's Brit's championship game, she needs me there," Santana explained looking at her mother.
"No chance we can do it maybe Sunday, Phil?" her mother cut in, knowing how important this game was to Santana.
"I'm sorry, Santana. There are hundreds more girls dying for this spot. This is what being a musician is about, sacrifice and hard work. I'm sure this, Brittany person will understand. As a matter of fact, if it means that much to you, we'll fly her out after the game and she can come to the party. I'm sure she'll like that huh? Fancy clothes, expensive food, plenty of celbs and record execs… what do you say Santana?" he offered.
"I don't know…" she groaned, rubbing her temples in distress.
"Beep…beep…beep. What's that noise? Oh, that's the money truck backing up in your driveway. Keep driving, Santana doesn't want any!" the man mocked.
"I want to do this for the music more than the money," Santana admitted.
"You're gonna have it all kid. The music, the money, the fans…hell, you could buy this Brittany her own personal hockey rink if you want to," he suggested. Santana knew he was just trying to bait her, but man how much would Brittany love that?
"Alright, fine. I'll come. But wherever I go, Brittany comes too. And she gets whatever she wants. She'll be in the studio when we're recording, backstage when we're performing, and wherever the hell else she wants to be," Santana demanded.
"Fair enough. We'll work all that out later. We'll see you guys tomorrow night, be here by 8," he replied.
"See you then," her mother said and hung up.
"She'll understand, honey. She wants you to have this," she assured Santana, rubbing her back.
"Yeah…" she groaned, not so sure.
"Well maybe you better call her and tell her. And you should take her jersey to her since you won't be in school tomorrow," she suggested.
"Mom, I have to go to school. I at least have to be at the pep rally if I'm missing the game," Santana told her.
"We have to be out the door by no later than 11," her mother explained.
"Fine…I'll go see her," Santana decided. She grabbed Brittany's jersey from her laundry pile and threw on her jacket.
"Want a ride?" her mother asked.
"No…I have to think about what I'm going to say," Santana replied, heading out the door.
When she finally got to the Pierce's home about half an hour later, she saw Mr. Pierce packing up their van for the trip to Cincinnati.
"Hey Santana. I didn't know you were coming by," he said.
"Yeah…um, is Brits home from practice yet?" she asked.
"Yes she is. I think she's playing Xbox. You know her, me and her mother are trying to get everything ready so we don't have to worry about it tomorrow…Brittany on the other hand won't pack until it's time to go and then she'll end up forgetting everything," he chuckled.
"Yeah…um, can I go in and talk to her?" she requested.
"Of course," he agreed and Santana made her way inside. Just like she expected, Brittany was sitting on the couch deeply involved in a game on her Xbox.
"Hey Brit Brit,"
"Sanny, hey! This is a surprise," she exclaimed, pausing the game. Santana took a seat next to her and lay the jersey in her lap.
"Why'd you bring my jersey over? Oh man, are you breaking up with me?" Brittany panicked.
"No, Brit. I do have to tell you something though," Santana mumbled nervously.
"What?" Brittany wondered.
"I heard from my agent…and they want me to go back to New York," she told her.
"Well you knew that already, Sanny. That's a good thing. So when is it? My mom already said I can go but only if your mom is with us like the whole time," Brittany replied.
"I have to be there tomorrow," Santana practically whispered.
"Oh. So you're missing school, whatever. What time will you be back tomorrow? We're leaving for Cincinnati after dinner my dad says. But if you'll be later then that maybe you can just meet us at the hotel?" Brittany suggested.
"I have to stay in New York all weekend, Brit. They want us all to get acquainted, and all kinds of people are coming to watch us sing together…I tried but I can't get out of it," Santana told her. Brittany could barely move she was so shocked this was happening.
"So…you're not coming to my game?" she asked on the verge of tears.
"I'm so sorry, Brit," she replied.
"My big game, my championship game…my first game where I would get to look up and see you there as my girlfriend, and you're not going? What about the shirts? What about how I was going to blow you a kiss every time I scored a goal?" Brittany cried.
"Brit, if I had a choice you know I'd be there. But I told them from now on, you're everything. You go where I go, you get the star treatment too okay? I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," Santana replied. Brittany stood and walked across the room to the foyer where she had her hockey bag. She dug through it, pulling out Santana's lucky harmonica. She wiped away her tears as she walked back over to where Santana sat and handed it to her.
"Here," she muttered, holding it in front of her.
"Brit…the lucky harmonica? You need this remember? I gave it to you. You never lace up without it, remember?" Santana rambled, running her fingers along the cold metal.
"I don't want it," Brittany replied and turned around, heading up the stairs to her room.
"Brit…Brit, please," Santana called after her. The tears were falling freely now as she heard Brittany's bedroom door slam shut. She lay the harmonica on the table next to Brittany's Xbox controller and headed for the front door.
"Santana, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Pierce asked her, coming out of the basement with a basket of laundry.
"Hey Mrs. P, I was just leaving," she sniffed, wiping the tears on her sleeve.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she questioned.
"I…can't come to the game. I have to go to New York. Please tell Brittany I'm sorry," Santana cried and walked out before Mrs. Pierce could question her further.