"Not that I mind but I can totally see you checking me out," Brittany smirks, causing my eyes to bulge and my face to flush.

We're both in the living room, Brittany sprawled across the floor in only a tight pair of dance shorts and tank top, studying, and me on the couch, obviously not watching the reality show that's playing in the background. It's been a few days since Quinn left and, despite my fears, not much has changed around the apartment. A few nightmares have sent me flying into Brittany's bedroom in the middle of the night to comfort her but I'm usually able to calm her down fairly quickly. She seems to be doing a lot better.

Surprisingly, I'm doing better as well. Like Brittany said, getting your thoughts and feelings out there is very cathartic, I can't help the proud feeling inside of me from knowing I confessed everything, well, mostly everything. I don't even regret telling her.

That is, until right now.

"I-uh, I was-" I try to defend myself but it's pointless, she caught me. The adorable smirk she's giving me doesn't exactly help me find the right words either.

Her smirk changes to a smile and she starts to laugh at my inability to string a coherent sentence together. "It's okay, I would totally be checking me out too. I look hot."

If anyone else besides Brittany said that, it would come across as cocky but for some reason, she makes it work.

"You do," I try to be bold. My voice wavers as I say it but two can play at whatever this game is she has going on.

A cocked eyebrow from Brittany lets me know it worked and I mentally give myself a pat on the back for having some guts around the girl for once. What I'm not expecting, or prepared for, is her prying herself from the floor and taking a seat next to me on the couch, conveniently getting as close as possible without actually touching. My breathing quickens and I'm pretty sure I can actually hear my heartbeat in my ears.

"You think I'm hot?" she quickly changes from a playful tone to a more seductive one and whatever boldness I was feeling has been shot out the window. Jesus. Nobody has ever help this type of power over me. This girl is going to be the death of me, I'm certain of that.

I don't know how to respond to her question so I shift my eyes away from hers, only to have them land on her lips. Bad idea. They're plump, not as much as mine, but they look so soft and I can't help but wonder once again what it would feel like to kiss them.

I must stare for too long because Brittany puts her hand on my chin to raise my head until I'm looking into her eyes again. "You can kiss me if you want." It's so quiet that I'm not sure if I imagined it or not but I feel something build in my stomach nonetheless. "It wouldn't have to mean anything, if you don't feel anything it can be a one time thing-"

Another surge of boldness takes over me and I cut Brittany off by covering her lips with my own, surprising both her and myself.

I'm fucking kissing a girl.

When I finally register that, my body doesn't pull back as I expected it to. Instead, I continue the assault, basking in the feeling of her lips moving against mine.

She hasn't pulled away either. That must count for something.

My brain is too busy to think about the implications of that, focusing completely on the lips pressed so tenderly against mine instead. The feeling is familiar, yet completely foreign. Kissing is kissing but she is the first girl I've ever kissed and there are so many things that are different about it than kissing guys. Brittany is gentle and her lips are so god damn soft and addicting. I wonder if this is how it feels to kiss any girl, maybe it's just something specially reserved for those lucky enough to kiss Brittany. All know for sure is that this is something I would not be opposed to doing again.

By far it's the most tender and calm kiss I've ever experienced, in the best possible way. She takes her time, allowing me time to get comfortable, and doesn't press for anything more than I'm willing to give. Nothing is rushed but I go to deepen it because I need to taste more of that strawberry flavour that must be her lips gloss.

The heat that rushes over my body is unexpected but welcome and, when I feel her hand run through my hair, I let out a small moan. Kissing her makes me feel invincible, it makes me forget how scary this whole thing is, and it allows me to actually enjoy everything about the moment.

She is exceptionally talented with those lips.

All I want is to be closer to her so I try leaning forward, hinting for her to lie back on the couch. Lying on top of her would mean even more contact and a shiver runs through me at the thought.

When I try, however, she pulls back. "What the-" I start but stop when I see her face. She looks afraid almost but before I can ask her what's the matter she takes my hands into hers and squeezes them gently.

Shit. What did I do? I mean, she offered to kiss me so she can't be upset. She probably wasn't planning on me practically jumping her bones though. Damn it, I screwed up.

Awkwardly, I sit up on the couch and slide as far away from her as possible. "I'm s-" I start to apologize, but she abruptly cuts me off.

"What's your name?" she asks seriously and I shoot her a look of confusion. What the fuck is she getting on with? We've been roommates for months, classmates for years, she obviously knows who I am.

"Seriously Britt, what kind of question is that? You know my name."

"I know that I know your name, San," she giggles. At least now I know she's not mad. "I just need to make sure you know it. So again, what's your name?"

At this point, I'm curious to what she's getting on with and I also really want to get my mack back on so I answer her. "My name is Santana Lopez."

Her face relaxes slightly but she's still not kissing me. "And what are you doing right now?"

"Well I'm trying to make out with you," I smirk with a chuckle, "but you seem to want to play twenty questions or something."

At this point she's practically beaming and I can't help but smile back, even if I have no idea what's going on.

"I had to make sure you were fully conscious and aware of what was happening," she explains, her giddy expression changing into a slight frown. "I know I said this didn't have to mean anything, and it doesn't, but when people freak out at me the day after we do things it makes me sad. I don't like being sad and I don't want you to be sad so I need to make sure you know that this is actually happening. If you get upset and leave now it will hurt a whole lot less than if you yell at me tomorrow."

Without thinking, I bring my hand up to palm her check and trace my fingers along her jaw line. She's usually such a happy person and seeing her like this throws me for a loop. I hate seeing her sad and I hate that other people have made her sad. I mostly hate that I could make her sad.

"I'm not going to freak out on you, not now, not ever," I tell her truthfully. My thumb mindlessly rubs small circle patterns on her cheek. "I'm still afraid of what this means but I know that it feels right. Nothing in my life has ever felt this right Britt, nothing. This is not just a phase for me and I can promise you that I'm going to do my best not to hurt you."

I know what she's going to say next before the words even graze her lips and I extend my pinky out in-between us.

Nothing else happens between us after that, we don't even kiss anymore, but it all just feels right. When I lie in bed later, thinking about the whole thing, my body instantly warms up. A few months ago the thought of kissing a girl would have scared the shit out of me-actually, I would have never even let the thought cross my mind-but now I'm giddily smiling about it like some idiot and that doesn't even upset me. I'm happy, actually happy for once in my fucking life and I have Brittany to thank for that. I don't care what my parents or my friends think, I know what I want to do. I need to ask her out on a date.

The next morning, I call Rachel and ask her to meet me somewhere so we can talk. To say she was surprised is an understatement but I know how close her and Brittany are, hell I'm even beginning to consider her one of my best friends, so I have to make sure things are okay between us. We don't always see eye to eye and I'm usually a pretty big bitch to her but I need her to know that that's just who I am and that it's nothing personal.

I also want to ask for her permission to take Brittany out. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, believe me I know it does, but I can't screw this up so I'm covering all of the bases.

She asks if we could meet at the NYADA campus considering she is, and I quote 'a very busy woman with a demanding schedule that allows her very little time for socializing'. Whatever, I have no problem with it and I figure we can get this done in a few minutes if she can manage to keep her mouth shut long enough to let me speak.

"Santana," I hear her voice call before I see her. Spinning on the grass, I turn to see her propped up against an old tree. She's wearing what looks to be a dress from the 1800s but I just shake my head and sit next to her. Sometimes it's better not to ask questions.

"I'm rehearsing for a play this afternoon, hence this outfit, and I only have an hour for break so I ask you take as little time as possible with whatever it is you wish to speak about." Look at that, didn't even have to ask and I got all the details. Imagine what she would have spewed out if I had.

"Fine," I say simply. I'm not sure if my nerves or her annoying tone makes me regret ever coming in the first place. But I'm here, might as well get this over with. "I like Brittany and I want to ask her out on a date."

I watch her face contort as she searches for a response to that, I guess Brittany really was telling the truth when she promised not to tell anyone about me. I really should have taken a camera with me to film this because it's fucking hilarious. She starts to speak a few times but never manages to actually get a sentence out, just a few incoherent sputters. I eventually give in and save her. Despite popular belief, I am not and terrible person. Besides, I figure she deserves a proper explanation.

"I know this is probably a shock to you but I've grown up a lot these past few months and Brittany has helped me do that. She's made me realize how important it is to be true to yourself and I admire that about her. We've talked about this a bit and I'm pretty certain she won't be blindsided by me asking her out. I just wanted to see if you were okay with it, you being her best friend. I know I'm hard on you and give you a lot of shit but I care about you." It comes out with more sincerity than I was expecting. "I know I have a fucked up way of showing it but you mean something to me and it would mean a lot to me if you agreed to let me ask Britt out, not that I wouldn't anyways but it would be nice to know I have your support."

The words feel awkward on my tongue. When do I ever grovel for someone's approval? Hell, when have I ever wanted it? As much as I want to believe I would be fine even if she didn't agree with this, I know it would be a lot harder asking Brittany out if I knew her best friend did approve.

"Santana I-I really wish you didn't have to be so vulgar but that was sweet nonetheless," she replies with a smile. "I know you're not the same person you were in high school and, even though it may take me a little while to get used to it, you have my blessing to ask Brittany out. I'm honored you even thought to ask me even though it was unnecessary."

I give her an awkward smile, glad that this entire encounter is over, and push myself up off the ground so I can head home but Rachel has other plans.

"I'm going to hug you now," she says, outstretching her arms towards me.

"I don't hug Berry."

"I would appreciate it if you would call me by my actual name, Santana," she stomps her foot on the ground and I have to hide my amused laugh, "and that's a lie. I see you hugging Brittany all of the time."

"Yeah but," I try to find the right words to explain that but all I come up with is "she's Brittany," and that seems like enough.

Rachel smiles widely at me and it's kind of creepy. I consider running away when I see the tears form in her eyes but she grabs my arms to keep me in place.

"You really care about her, don't you?" she asks. Fucking Berry, always one for the dramatics.

"I do," I tell her, opting not to mention how ridiculous she's being. Baby steps.

She gives me a hug but pulls away before I can even register what's happening and then skips back to rehearsal, leaving me completely confused about what just happened. The main point, really the only point of the entire encounter I wish to remember, is that Rachel is behind me asking Brittany out.

As I begin the journey back home, I realize that there is only one thing left to do. I've already worked myself up to it, I've told my best friend and hers, I've tested to the waters to figure out if I have even a sliver of a chance. The only thing left to do now is actually go through with it and ask the question.

Instead of stopping once I get to the apartment, my feet continue to take me down the street until I'm standing in front of the coffee house where Brittany works. I haven't had the chance to see her since last night and I'm having a really hard time getting her, and her lips, off of my mind. Maybe if I just stop in to say a quick hello my mind will settle down.

Conveniently, it so happens that she gets off in less than ten minutes. Not that I know her schedule or anything.

"What are you doing here?" Brittany practically beams as she spots me. Quickly sipping out from behind the counter, she makes her way across the mostly empty room until she's standing just in front of me.

Shrugging, before I'm met with two strong arms wrapped around my body, I almost melt into her embrace. I had no idea how much I wanted to see her until right now.

I don't tell her that, however, and settle for the cop-out response that I was just in the neighborhood. Either she doesn't catch on or she's actually happy to see me, but the smile remains on her face as she fills me in on her day at work.

"You want to do something today?" I ask, leaning over the counter she has slipped back behind. "You're off in a few, right?"

"Of course," she replies, leaning forward. Fuck, her lips look really good this close. "Did you have anything in mind? Because one of the girls here was telling me about this huge flea market just around the corner. Apparently they have like everything so I was kind of hoping to stop by after work. It's totally cool if you have something else you'd rather do."

"No, no," I tell her honestly. I just want to spend some time with her. "It sounds cool. We could really use a few more things to decorate the apartment. The bare white walls are really starting to get to me. It looks like a fucking insane asylum."

"Maybe we could paint them," she suggests, before walking away to fill the order of the only customer current in the store.

"Sorry, Britt. That was a part of the rent deal, no painting."

"That sucks," she says, handing the coffee to the customer before turning back towards me. I nod in agreement but it's probably for the best that the two of us aren't left alone with cans of paint. I have a suspicious feeling that most of it would not end up on the walls. "We could just get some really colourful pictures to hang around."

"Sounds like a plan."

With a glance at the clock, she pulls the apron from her body and tells the others she's leaving. Offering me a donut, I gratefully accept and we both munch on them as we head outside, the cool air greeting us as we leave.

As we walk, our hands knocking together every so often at our sides, I start thinking about last night again. It was amazing, Brittany was amazing, and I don't regret it for one second. I just wish that she hadn't had work this morning so we could have stayed up later to talk about it. I know I could bring it up now, that I probably should, but it just feels kind of awkward. I mean, she hasn't brought it up. Maybe she didn't enjoy it as much as I did.

Letting out a sigh, I rub my numbing hands together to create some heat. I shouldn't think like that. At least, not until she's given me any indication that I should.

"Were you telling the truth last night?" I ask, breaking the silence. She just looks at me with a confused expression so I explain further. "About liking me in middle school."

I've been thinking about that story for a while now, curious as to whether or not she was telling the truth. Not that I doubt her word but I find it hard to believe she actually liked me like that all those years ago. I was a bitch to her and, when I wasn't picking on her, I was tossing slushies at Rachel or just flat out ignoring them both. To me it just seems like she made up the story to make me feel better, maybe embarrass me a little.

"Yeah," she says, the appearance of a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. "Is it weird that I told you? I probably should have kept that to myself but you asked and I suck at lying."

"Why?" Is all I can ask.

"C'mon, Santana," she laughs, the air leaving her mouth visible in the cold air. "You have be joking. You are absolutely gorgeous, always have been. Even back in middle school when everyone else was going through that awkward, puberty stage you still looked breathtaking. How could anyone not have a crush on you?"

She turns forward again, looking at street signs to figure out in which direction exactly we should be walking, but my eyes stay trained on her, taking in every single detail from her rosy cheeks to the way her steps have suddenly quickened. Even though it's freezing out, an unexpected warmth falls over me.

...

"San, look at this," Brittany exclaims, pulling my attention from the hideous rug I was looking at.

I have to get her to call out a few more time so I can track her down in the piles of stuff but I soon find her down an aisle filled with musical instruments. Her head is moving back in fourth quickly, admiring everything, a smile firmly stuck on her face.

"You have to get something here," she beams, pulling me further down the aisle. "You love music but I haven't even heard you sing since we moved in together."

"I don't know, Britt," I muse, bring my hand to touch the guitar in front of me. "I don't think our neighbors would appreciate my singing very much."

"They totally would. You sound awesome," she says with a smile.

At her words, I let out a sigh and turn to look at the other instruments, at an angle which conveniently takes my face out of her line of vision.

I really do love music, I always have, and I miss it more than I would ever admit but I promised myself that I would never pursue it after high school. Glee club was fun and all but it's not a reality. Musicians are disposable, there are more of us around this city than not, and I need to go to school to get a real job. A career, something I can make a living of.

For fuck's sake, my parents are like Lima's resident power couple so there is no way their only daughter can have anything but the perfect job. If I'm a doctor, or a lawyer, or even a god damn accountant, at least they'll have something to be proud of. It could also help in other aspects of my life. My perfect career will allow me leeway to make other mistakes, like if I ever need them to bail me out of jail or I end up in a same-sex relationship for example, though I only plan on ever doing the second one. Having that job will be something for me to fall back on. I can screw up in any other part of my life because the thing they have always told me was that I needed a good career and I'll work my ass off for the next few years to ensure I have that.

Running my fingers gently over the keys of an old piano, I almost hate myself for making that promise. I allow myself to picture it in our apartment for a moment, only a couple seconds. It's been months since I've played so I'd probably be a little rusty but it wouldn't matter. As naturally as possible, I would play out some slow ballad as Brittany danced behind me, giving it everything she has. It would be the perfect moment.

"Have you found anything else you liked?" I ask dryly, trying to change the direction of this conversation. "I still have my dad's credit card and we could probably swing anything we buy into looking like essentials for the apartment."

Giving me a questioning glance, probably trying to figure out why my mood has seemingly done a complete 180, she shakes her head back and fourth. "And you don't have to buy me stuff, San. Even if it is your dad's money."

We make our way out of the aisle and, with one final glace at the piano, towards the door. "I just feel bad that you always have to work so much while I just sit around and let my parents buy me things."

There is some truth to that answer. I honestly feel like crap whenever I go into Brittany's room, seeing the mattress on the floor and the same emptiness from the first morning, or when she rushes out of the apartment without eating to get to work while I lounge around all day, doing shit all. I just wish I could make things easier and the simplest way I can think of is by buying her things.

"Can you wait just one sec?" she asks suddenly, feeling around her pockets. "I think I left my phone inside."

Before I can comment, she's sprinting back towards the building and I'm left standing alone. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I stand there awkwardly.

Damn, I think it's gotten even colder.

For a Sunday, the streets are pretty full with crowds of people moving in each direction. As I watch them pass, I wonder if any of them are in the same place as me right now. Unsure about everything in their lives except one thing, one thing they are so sure of that it's scary. For someone who's so innocent and sweet, the thought of Brittany can sure terrify the living hell out of me.

If I was different, maybe I would approach one of them. Maybe I'd try my hand at small talk and see if they could help me out. This city is enormous, there must be someone around that's in the same boat as me right now. Or better, someone who has already experienced it from beginning to end. Someone who could offer me some insight as to where to go from here.

At least this time, for the first time in my life, the overwhelming feeling of being drowned doesn't scare me. For the first time, I'm actually willing to fight back and swim.

"Sorry," Brittany pants, running to my side. "It must have fell out of my pocket. We're good to go now."

There's a small smirk on her face but I don't question it. Instead I just smile back as we make our way down the street. I know there are still some things we need to talk about and one particular question I need to ask, but I don't want to ruin this moment with any of that. I'd rather enjoy this time with her, just the two of us, and not let my pissy mood or overactive brain impact it.

"Please tell me you're calling to tell your best friend you finally plucked up the courage to ask Brittany out," is how Quinn greets me through the phone later that night.

"Not quite yet," I tell her, "but I'm gonna do it soon. I'm just waiting for the right moment."

"Or your balls to drop, one of the two."

"QUINN FABRAY," I shout, not used to hearing her say things like that. "I think you've been corrupted. That school must be doing a number on you, not even hanging out with me could get you to ease up."

"Whatever," she laughs. "But seriously, S. there is never going to be a perfect moment, you know that. Just pluck up the courage and ask her out."

She makes it sound so easy.

"Like you've ever done it," I say, almost annoyed that she doesn't see how much I'm trying here. "Boys swarm to you, they ask you out. You don't have to deal with all of this bullshit and nerves. You're a Fabray."

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Santana. So shut up," she warns.

She used my full name which should be a sign that something's not right. In my state, however, I don't catch on and start picking a fight with her. "I think I know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Little Miss Princess can have any boy she wants without fear of being rejected by them or her family. Just admit it, Q."

I'm venting now. Everything, all the stress and anxiety, is finally coming to face and Quinn is just in my line of fire. She's used to it though, I've been doing it for years and she's never complained before. She know I need this. It's is the alternative to being vulnerable and I would much rather people see me like this than weak.

"At least you didn't show up at her place only to be greeted at the door by another woman," she huffs out. "Another tall, beautiful, sexy woman."

"Shit," falls out of my mouth. I was not expecting that. "Quinn, I'm sorry," I stammer, feeling like an absolute asshole. I really need to learn to keep my emotions in check, especially around those who are actually on my side. "What happened?"

"Just that. I got back from New York and there she was. I never agreed to be exclusive with Matt, no matter how often he asked, so I shouldn't have been so upset about it. I was just kind of shocked, that's all."

And like that, I know I'm forgiven because she's talking to me but I also know I'm not getting the entire story. She doesn't want to talk about it right now but the second she's ready, she'll call. It how things always are with her, it's how our dynamic works.

"Just don't chicken out because seeing her with someone else will hurt like hell," she advises, hiding her sadness surprisingly well.

"Y-yeah," I stutter out like an idiot. "Do you want me to come down or anything? I might be able to sneak away for a weekend or something."

"I'm fine," she says and it actually sounds believable, "or I'll be fine at least. My friends here can take care of me if I have a breakdown, though I doubt they'll be as good as you," she laughs. Why would she ever make fun of my awesome comforting skills? "We'll see each other Christmas though, right?"

"Absolutely," I smile.

"Well, I should go. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. You sure you're going to be alright?" I ask.

"Yes,"she says with a laugh. "I was never really that into him in the first place. Just don't forget what I told you and make sure to call me as soon as it happens."

"I will."

Two lectures, a test, and three labs later, I finally stumble into the apartment after the day from hell. The smell of chicken meets me at the door and I'm immediately intrigued. Dropping my bag, I make my way into the kitchen where I see Brittany in an apron dancing from the oven to the table, placing the trays of food there on a red table cloth I've never seen before. It looks suspiciously like a date setting.

"Hey," I call, grabbing her attention. "Are you having someone over? I can leave if you want me to." I try to hide the sadness in my voice but it's pointless.

After a day like today, I really just wanted to come back home and hang out with her for a few hours. Have a nice relaxing night in and maybe watch a movie or two with my friend. Now do I not only have to make myself scare, but I also have to deal with the fact that I waited too long and she's gone out and found herself someone new. Fucking perfect.

"No, silly," she assures, walking over to me with a smile on her face. She grabs my hands and leads me to the table where she pulls out a chair for me. "I made this for you, like for us."

A sigh of relief escapes my lips and her infectious smile creeps onto my face, as she quickly removes her apron to take the seat across from mine. I look down at the food in front of us and am unsure of where to start. It all looks so good and I honestly can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal.

When I scoop the potatoes into my mouth I'm pretty sure I let out an audible moan but I'm not even embarrassed, they taste so good and I tell her. "Seriously Britt, these are awesome. How did you learn to cook like this?"

"It's nothing," she says shyly, rolling the peas around her plate out of nervousness. "I just did most of the cooking back home, I guess I just got good from the practice. I'm glad you like it though."

Her voice wavers when she mentions Lima but I let it slide. She still hasn't spoken to me about anything regarding home and I still haven't asked. I decide to not let it ruin dinner so I continue eating and giving her compliments, which I learn she is not very good at taking.

Conversation comes easy with her and we soon get lost in our own little world, talking about anything an everything that comes to mind. Back in high school, I always had friends, or at least people I considered to be my acquaintances, but Quinn was the only one I felt I could be myself around.

It's only now that I finally feel that comfort level around someone else. Brittany makes me feel safe, she makes me feel like I can effortlessly make her smile or laugh. I can basically say whatever comes to mind without her judging me for it. It's a comforting feeling, being around someone like that.

When the meal is done, Brittany gets up to start clearing away the dishes and no matter how many times I offer my help, she insists on doing it alone. She at least lets me bring them to the sink but as soon as I lay them down she's ushering me out into the living room area.

I go without protest because apparently I'm whipped.

"You want to watch a movie?" she asks and I give her an eager nod. I'm not quite ready for this night to end just yet. "Pick one out and I'll be back in a few minutes. Just nothing too scary."

As I wait for her to finish in the kitchen, Quinn's words from her visit play over in my head. Brittany is too nice a person to put me in an awkward position and as much as she may want this to be a date she will never ask. She knows how confused I am right now and she doesn't want to rush me. She's always looking out for everyone else and never herself.

This plays over in my head as we watch the movie, her on one side of the couch and me on the other, and soon I can't resist the urge anymore.

"Go out with me," I blurt during the middle of some club scene and her head whips to look at me. She looks confused and I'm not entirely sure if she heard me. God, I'm such an idiot. "Will you go out with me? Like on a date," I repeat, scanning her face nervously with my eyes.

The movie is quickly forgotten as she engulfs me in a hug, repeatedly saying yes into my ear, and I feel a rush of relief pass over my body. When she pulls back, she looks at my face as though she's searching for something. I can't believe I just did that.

"You sure you want this?" she asks. "It's not too soon is it? Cause I can wait longer if you need more time."

I shake my head, reassuring her that this is exactly what I want.

"Good," she beams, "because I've wanted to ask you out so bad but I didn't want to scare you off. I was starting to think you were moving on."

"Nope, you're the only one I want." I cringe at how cheesy that sounds but she just smiles and playfully sings a few lines from Grease so I decide it was worth it. What couldn't she get me to do with that smile?

"I have a confession," she says, pulling back shyly. "I pretended that tonight was a date for a little while."

"I did too," I admit.

"It felt nice."

"Imagine what the real thing will feel like," I chime, shuttering at my own words. I have to make sure this date is perfect, better than she could imagine.

She smiles in return and cuddles into my side as we watch the rest of the movie in silence.