The next few days were mercifully quiet. The bulk of the attention was pulled off of Brittany and Santana by the next skating events happening in Sochi, and, though there were still some media requests coming into the rink and a few blurb news stories popping up before Olympic broadcasts, no one really bothered the two of them. Even though Worlds was coming up, Brittany said she could take a few days off from training. If she had been in Sochi, the same thing would be happening anyway. Santana and Brittany bounced back and forth between the Lopez house, the Pierce house, and Brittany's apartment, mostly spending nights at the apartment, but hanging out with different members of the family during the day. Santana was relieved to feel some of her anxiety easing around their families. She still felt a little uncomfortable sometimes, but Brittany was right, and time was making her feel better.

After a few days of doing nothing with their families and a few nights of movies and making out, both Santana and Brittany started to go a little stir crazy. They were both used to a certain level of activity and felt restless doing so little for such a long time. The next morning, they went to the rink to take advantage of the onsite gym, running through their separate off-ice routines.

Santana could feel the way that Brittany's eyes were glued to her through her whole work out, scanning over the muscles in her arms and legs as she lifted weights and used the machines and to her ass as she ran on the treadmill. It made her feel sexy and warm all over. She couldn't help sneaking a few peeks of her own. Santana was quite sure she knew what would happen in the shower when they got back to Brittany's apartment.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and Santana came and rested her hand on Brittany's back where she was doing squats. Brittany paused and looked at Santana, getting the same dirty smirk on her face that Santana gave her. "Let me just finish this set," Brittany said. Santana stepped back to watch, but Brittany only did one more before stopping with a laugh. "Done. Let's go."

They pulled on their jackets and changed into boots, before heading towards the parking lot.

"Brittany, Santana, wait a second!" They stopped at the voice behind them. It was Emma, hurrying across the lobby. "I was going to text you, but someone said that you were here." Emma told them once she had caught up. "Jesse St. James has asked to meet with the two of you this afternoon. He said it was about publicity opportunities. Does two o'clock work?"

Santana glanced at Brittany who looked at the time on her phone. They would need lunch and at least one shower, but they had a few hours before they'd need to come back. "That's fine," Santana said with a nod.

"Excellent." Emma said, making a note on the planner that she was carrying. "And Santana, it won't be announced officially for another few days, but Will just got a message that the federation is planning on sending you to Worlds with Quinn Fabray. Congratulations!" Emma gave her a genuine smile, before her phone started to ring. "Excuse me, I have to take this," Emma said. "Congratulations again, and Will said he'd be back next week."

Emma went out the door, presumably up to her office, and Santana turned to look at Brittany, her mouth slightly open.

"Did she just say—" Santana asked, stepping towards Brittany.

"Worlds." Brittany's grin was huge and infectious.

"Worlds!" Santana repeated, throwing her arms around Brittany's neck in a hug. Brittany locked her arms behind Santana's back and spun her around, and Santana couldn't help the shriek of laughter she let out.

"Come on, let's go home," Brittany said, setting Santana down and steadying her with a hand on her elbow. "There is a shower that I need to visit with you."

Santana laughed and followed Brittany out the door.


Ninety minutes later, they were laying on Brittany's bed together with damp hair, splitting a dish of apple slices between them. The blankets had been partially kicked off the bed, and only the sheet was draped over them.

Santana took another bite of apple. "We have about fifteen minutes before we have to get ready to the rink and meet with Jesse," she said.

"Mmmmph," Brittany groaned into the pillow she was laying on. "I'd rather finish this apple and then take a nap with you."

Santana shook her head with a smile. "Well, I'd rather just stay in bed with you, too, but we have to go meet with him. I'm sure Sue is paying him a lot to do his job." She paused for a minute while she chewed thoughtfully. "What do you think Emma meant by publicity opportunities?"

"Probably a lot of Jesse 'My Dick is Heaven' St. James blowing his own horn and then maybe an interview."

Santana rolled her eyes to keep from giving Brittany an approving snort of laughter, because, after all, Jesse was helping them out a lot and they kind of needed him. Brittany grinned anyway, like she could tell what Santana was thinking.

"I just think—" Santana shook her head. "I mean, why else would they send me to Worlds?" A little bit of the shine had worn off the thrill of knowing she had been chosen, and Santana was starting to feel like she had a more realistic grip on the situation. After all, no one who had scored as low as she had should earn a spot to Japan. Even with being the third alternate, there were still three people who had proven they had done a better job than she had. It was obvious to her, and it going to be obvious to everyone else as well.

"Um, triple axel, triple lutz entry, that i-spin, your—"

Santana cut Brittany off with a quick kiss. "I know. And thank you, Britt, for always being my best fan. But I didn't prove any of that when it counted, and you know it. It wouldn't make sense for them to send the third alternate unless some horrible accident happened to everyone in between or unless they wanted to capitalize on the attention we've been getting."

Brittany sighed. "You're right," she admitted reluctantly. "Even though I want to go on the record as saying that you totally could have gotten the gold medal at Nationals and definitely skate at a level that is deserving of this spot."

Santana pressed another soft kiss to Brittany's mouth. "It just kind of sucks to know that I'm getting this because of a terrible thing that happened to us. I would have rather just earned it."

"I know," Brittany said, lacing her fingers with Santana's and pulling her close. Brittany kissed Santana's nose and cheeks and forehead, her mouth moving gently over each part of Santana's face, until their lips finally met again. Santana tilted her chin up, fitting their mouths together more firmly. There really wasn't anything to say that could make Santana feel better. No matter what, they had still been outed on an international scale, their private lives were now at least a little bit public, and weird and uncomfortable things like being bumped to Worlds were still happening. But Brittany's arms around her back, Brittany's mouth on hers, those things made everything seem manageable. "How much time until we need to get ready?" Brittany whispered against her lips.

"About seven minutes," Santana murmured back.

"I'm going to kiss you until then, okay?"

Santana's kiss turned into a smile. "Yes."


"Okay, Santana?" The director said, waving her over. Santana skated to the rubber mat where he was standing with various crew members and a camera. There were a few more cameras set up around the ice. Santana still had plenty of room, but it was a little nerve-wracking. "Are you warmed up and ready?" Santana nodded. "Great, I'm going to have you head back over to Jo at the edge over there," he pointed to a woman waiting with some makeup at the boards. "She's going to do some touch ups, and then we'll get ready to shoot, okay?"

"Sounds good," Santana said, before skating over to the boards. The makeup woman, Jo, had already done most things before Santana had gotten on to warm up, but now she smoothed over any areas where Santana had started to sweat. Santana closed her eyes and tried to relax.

It had turned out that the "publicity opportunities" that Jesse had for them were commercials. Or two commercials, one each, and a print ad. Once he had gone on about his connections and how lucky they were to have him and how he had turned the tide of the press to work with them instead of against them, he'd finally gotten around to details. Jesse had worked a deal out with Apple and their new sport headphones for Santana, with Oreos and their latest campaign effort for Brittany, and a Levi jeans ad for the both of them. He had been very clear with them that the contracts were for these ads only and were not full sponsorships and that he didn't want them thinking they were at that level yet, but they would still be good publicity for them.

Santana still wasn't quite sure what she thought about it. On one hand, it was this incredible opportunity. She had never really imagined that someone would want her to represent a brand in any way, even if it was just a singular commercial. It was almost overwhelming, and even after a whole night to process with Brittany, she still wasn't sure that she had really come to terms with it. But, on the other hand, it was another thing that she was being given because of this horrible outing that had happened to her. She didn't earn this on her own merit; she had been given it because one of the most personal aspects of her life had been broadcast across the globe.

"All done," Jo said, stepping back and checking Santana's face. "You really didn't sweat anything off anyway," she added with a smile.

"Thanks," Santana said, smiling back. Jo had done her make up earlier while she was talking to the director about the kinds of things he wanted once they got on the ice. He had told her that the commercial would be more or less a montage of her skating and that he didn't have anything in particular that he wanted from her, just big tricks that would look good in slow motion.

Santana had already recorded a voice over track in a little sound booth that they had set up in the lobby of the New York rink where the commercial was being shot. It took longer than she had thought it would, considering it was a just a few sentences about the headphones and how well they worked. They had then dressed her in Nike clothing, black pants and a silvery tank top, explaining that Nike was one of their partners, before sending her off to Jo. Santana had been grateful for her—the soothing, calm way that she applied makeup to keep Santana from washing out under the lights had relaxed her where she might have started to get nervous.

Now, as Santana stepped back onto the ice, she was warmed up and ready, but she still had to take a few steadying breaths. No matter how she got this deal, it was a commercial. It was her first chance to really show that she could live up to this person that they wanted her to be, and her first chance to really be introduced to people outside of skating, who probably only knew her from photos where she was kissing Brittany.

Santana pushed that out of her mind. Right now, she just needed to focus on doing the best job that she could, and she couldn't do that thinking about everything that had happened. Santana skated back out to the mat. "Ready?" she asked.

"We are. Are you?" the director asked, his tone more kind than anything else.

"I certainly hope so," Santana said, trying to give her most easy going grin.

"Then great. Can we start with a few spins?"

Santana nodded, skating out towards the middle of the cameras, winding up with a few back crossovers and then stepping forward onto her left foot. She brought her arms and right leg in, pulling slowly, drawing her arms towards her chest and then up as she tightened her leg. The result was a perfect scratch spin, where the whole world blurred with the speed of Santana's spin. She held it for several seconds, until her rotation began to slow down, and then she stepped out, gliding out backwards on the outside edge of her right foot. Santana looked over to the director. "How was that?" she asked, unable to read his face.

"Great," he said, blinking a little bit. "Wow. Are you dizzy?" Santana laughed and shook her head. "Really? Awesome. Could you do another spin? Your choice!"

Santana nodded and set up for a layback. As she pushed her hips forward and let her head and upper body drop backwards into the spin, she felt her nerves start to relax a little. As long as she focused on the skating, this wouldn't be bad.


Brittany adjusted the fuzzy deerstalker hat perched on her head and shook out her arms and legs. It was still freezing outside, especially with the breeze whistling through Rockefeller Center. Jesse had secured Brittany a commercial with Oreo. Brittany had been apprehensive at first. She didn't want to broaden the exposure of what had happened to them, but Oreo had had a lot of great marketing success in the past few years. It seemed like the advertising team was with it, making smart, funny ads that were kind and quick-witted at the same time.

Their current campaign was called "Good at Any Speed". Brittany had seen the latest spot a few weeks ago, before she had headed off to Sochi. The commercial had featured well known NASCAR driver Artie Abrams and an adorable little boy. The voice over had announced, "Whether you're two-time Sprint Cup winner Artie Abrams—" with a shot of Artie's Oreo car hurtling down the track, "—or just starting to cruise in your first car—" as the camera panned to a little boy pushing himself along in a tiny ride-on car. "—Oreos are the snack for drivers of all ages." The ad had finished with a shot of Artie and little boy grinning as they shared Oreos, with the slogan, "Good at Any Speed".

It seemed that they were more or less sticking to the same script. Brittany had almost asked why they hadn't asked a speed skater to do the commercial, but she bit her tongue in time. After all, Jesse had probably worked hard to get her this gig, even with all of his pretentious talk, and she didn't need to give them any kind of idea that would take it away from her.

The director did seem to want something a little fancier than just skating fast, which Brittany was happy about, and she laid out a little piece of complicated choreo with a split leap in it, to give the director or editor or whoever something to choose from for the commercial. She had just finished filming a few different runs of that and now Brittany was watching them work with the little girl. She was a little unsteady on her feet, but determinedly shuffling along. Brittany gave her a thumbs up.

The little girl was adorable, and Brittany couldn't help but think that she was the spitting image of a six year old Santana, from the adorable gap-tooth, dimpled smile and the tanned skin, right down to skinny little deer legs and dark hair peaking out from under her teal hat. Santana had a considerable amount more skill skating at six than this girl did, but it wasn't hard to imagine that this was Santana. Or even, someday—

"Brittany!" The director called, looking around. Brittany waved from where she was leaning against the boards. "We're ready to set up the last scene. Over towards that bench." Brittany nodded and skated that way, glad for the interruption of that thought, but also weirdly excited to get to share some Oreos with this adorable girl.


"Where is that diffuser?" the photographer shouted, looking around. "This light is way too harsh. I'm getting a huge glare off the snow!" Santana looked around, shifting a little nervously amongst the piles of fake snow that were, as she had seen, very carefully positioned in front of this backdrop. She was on the set for the photoshoot set up for Levi with Brittany. After a night in a hotel way nicer than anything she had stayed in before, both of them had arrived at some studio space in New York and immediately been dressed in jeans, Santana, a light colored pair to offset her dark vest and white long sleeve, and Brittany, a dark pair to go with the maroon, oversized sweater they had picked. Santana had actually been impressed at how well the stylist did, picking out clothes that fit both them and their general style after only a few moments of looking at them.

"Are you okay?" Brittany whispered, reaching out to tug on the collar of Santana's black puffy vest.

Santana sighed. "Yeah," she murmured after a moment.

"How many times do I have to tell you you're a shitty liar?" Brittany asked, her grin seeping into her voice. Santana couldn't help a smile in return and she stepped a little closer, slipping her hands under the hem of Brittany's sweater.

"Probably at least a few more."

Brittany shook her head and reached her hands back to hold Santana's. "What is it, honey?"

"I just still hate how we got these," Santana said, shaking her head. "I mean, you totally earned something like this, but I put in this horrible performance and get outed to the whole world and then some ridiculous media relations guy spins it all, and we get a couple of commercials or whatever and it's like I'm getting a reward for putting up with having someone try to destroy our lives." She shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "I don't love the thought of putting pictures of us out there. I feel like we're putting more attention on ourselves and inviting more people into our lives."

Brittany thought for a moment, swaying slightly with Santana and watching a couple of guys try to adjust a defuser to soften the light a little. "I don't think I see it that way anymore," Brittany said. "I mean, yes, you didn't have an Olympic performance that deserved a commercial. I will give you that, without me going into a long thing about how you totally could have." Brittany looked down to meet Santana's eyes. "But you know as well as I that there is some kid out there in her figure skating club who has a crush on the girl she does axel class with and now she has you and me to show her that yes, it's possible to fall totally in love with the way that this girl attacks the jump and folds in and pulls out and the beautiful curve of her back in her landing position, and still be okay." Santana squeezed Brittany's hands a little tighter, feeling by the heavy, hungry look in Brittany's eye that it wasn't some imaginary teenager's axel she was talking about. "But right now, the only image of that she has, is one where our right to speak for ourselves was taken away and splashed across the globe for whoever wanted in. Why not give her something better to look at? And something else to know she could do?"

Santana stared up into Brittany's eyes for a moment, just feeling the way that every little molecule in her whole self was completely in love with this amazing woman. "You are such a genius, you know that?" she whispered, her voice warm and reverent.

"Okay, are we ready?" the photographer asked, shifting her camera. Santana looked at Brittany, and they both nodded. "Okay, let's do it!"

Over the next hour or so, the photographer guided them into a lot of different positions and set ups, each of them cute and romantic, without being overbearing or sexual. As it became clearer that the photographer's vision was in line with their own values, Santana and Brittany relaxed more and more, and by the end, everyone felt like they had some good shots.


"Fancy meeting you here."

Santana warmed all over as she heard a familiar voice behind her, and she looked up as a grin bloomed on her face. She had been lying on Brittany's couch with an ice pack on her knee, waiting for Brittany to get home from one of her dance classes. The night before, Santana had finally gone back to her parents' house after almost a week of staying with Brittany, either in her apartment, or—for a few days—in a hotel in New York. "Hi Britt," she said, moving to get up.

"Come here often?" Brittany asked with a wink, stopping Santana and lifting up her legs to sit with them across her lap.

Santana laughed and shook her head. "As often as I can," she said. "When does Mike come back?"

"At the end of the week, after closing ceremonies," Brittany said, stroking her hand across Santana's shin, carefully avoiding her knee. "Are you okay?" She asked after a moment.

"Yeah," Santana said, shaking her head, "Just a little bruise. I caught a funny landing on one of my run throughs. Thought I'd get some ice on it before it turned completely purple."

"Was it the free skate?" Brittany asked, reaching out to massage Santana's foot.

"Yeah." Santana sighed. "Will is going to be back after closing ceremonies, too, and I know he's just itching to mess with the elements, but if I'm going to be handed a spot at Worlds, I have to at least try to show that I could have earned it, you know?" After they'd had that fight, there were a lot of things that Will might do to the program, including stripping the elements down, which Santana knew was a mistake. She could be competitive, if only she could get her head into the game. But even today, with just about no one in the rink, not even Will, with no pressure on, it had just felt off. The program didn't sit well on her, fitting like a dress custom made for someone else—pinching in some places, too loose in others, and causing Santana discomfort.

"I don't know what to do about it," Santana said. "Nothing works to fix it. Even when it's good, it's obviously nowhere near great." She had a few run throughs, at the beginning of practice, where everything clicked and she stayed on her feet, but it still wasn't the show-stopping program that she needed.

Brittany was quiet for a moment as she switched feet and worked on the arch of Santana's right foot. "What if—," she said, breaking off for a moment. "What if, like, you just made a new one?"

"A whole new long program?" Santana tossed the ice pack off her leg and curled up so she was leaning against Brittany. "But there's only like a month until Worlds."

"Maybe not a totally new one. I mean, we could use the base of this one, so that you wouldn't have to do quite as much work to learn a new one, but, yeah, basically." Brittany could clearly see the uncertainty in Santana's face, because she reached up and smoothed her fingers through Santana's hair. "I mean, you said it yourself, you need something that shows you deserve to be there, and I think we both know that Will's Romeo and Juliet tragedy-fest isn't going to give you the connection that you need. So let's get something as ready as we can, and we'll, like, show it to Will, and hopefully he'll keep his shirt on enough to actually consider it. We can even let Will make the final call if that makes you feel better."

Santana thought about it for a moment. "With new music?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure we have something that'll fit better between the two of us." Brittany was really getting excited about the idea, and the way that her bright blue eyes shone and dreamy depth of her grin was infectious.

"Do you want to, like, pick out the music and help choreo it and everything?"

Brittany looked bashful for a moment, and Santana had to resist interrupting her with a kiss. "Well, I mean, if you want, I could, or we could, like, pick out some music and go talk to one of the junior coaches, or—"

"No," Santana said, starting to smile with her growing excitement for this idea. "I want you."

Brittany actually blushed which was too adorable for Santana to resist.

A moment later, they pulled apart from each other and Brittany reached for her computer, sitting on the floor near the couch. "Okay, we can start going through music."

"I trust you, Britt. Why don't I make some dinner and you pick out what you think will work? If you've got anything to show me, we can do it after dinner is done?" Santana slid off the couch and leaned down to give Brittany a soft kiss. "Thank you," she murmured, before heading off to the kitchen, feeling a lot lighter.


Brittany leaned in toward her computer screen, dragging the box a little closer, and then clicking play again, listening intently to the transition. She wanted this to be perfect because Santana was trusting her. Brittany inched the box back a tiny amount and then listened again.

Santana had made dinner while Brittany had looked through her music library and a few websites, looking for something that jumped out. It wasn't going particularly well at first. Everything was either overused or childish or just plain wrong. Brittany was starting to regret her optimism when she clicked play on the next track. As soon as the music started, Brittany could see a program forming in her head. She quickly hauled the computer into the kitchen and played a little bit for Santana. The smile on Santana's face, the deep dimples that meant she was truly happy about something, was enough to seal the deal for Brittany.

The rest of the time until dinner was ready Brittany spent cutting together music, pulling from all over the soundtrack to make a complete story. She wanted to give Santana something she could really feel and put out there.

Santana finished dinner before Brittany finished her music, so it was put on hold for a little bit. Brittany was glad for the break anyway, and her stomach was starting to growl. After the food was gone, Santana insisted that she clean up and let Brittany get back to it, so Brittany had.

She was fiddling with the last transition now, trying to fit on a piece that would bring resolution to the story that she had been trying to build, but something was a little off. Brittany trimmed the clips one more time and crossfaded them a little more, letting the two pieces bleed into each other. She dragged the cursor back to before the transition and press play once more.

The music flowed easily through, from one piece to the next.

Brittany sighed in relief and brought it all the way back to the start. If she closed her eyes, she could just see Santana, dress sparkling under the lights, as she took her opening position. She was going to look so beautiful skating to this music.

Santana always looked beautiful on the ice, though. Brittany always thought that Santana had this grace and maturity to her, even when they were skating as kids. There really wasn't anything wrong with Santana as a skater, no matter what she seemed to think. It was just a whole lot of bad luck: being stuck with Noah Puckerman for a partner, someone who couldn't and wouldn't grow at the same rate as her; having to switch to singles. Even the problems at Nationals this year came from the bad luck of a coach who only did half of his job, preparing Santana physically but not mentally. Santana was the best person Brittany knew. She deserved so much better.

A hand on her knee startled her out of her thoughts. "The kitchen's clean," Santana said, coming to sit down. Brittany lifted her arm, letting Santana tuck herself into her side. "How's it going?"

"All done, I think," Brittany said, pulling the headphones down to rest around her neck, unplugging them from the computer. "If you like it, I mean," she added, as she fiddled with the mouse on the screen, trying to get the track back to the start, though her fingers weren't cooperating quite as well as she'd like as her heart picked up, knowing Santana was about to hear the music and could totally hate it. "If you don't, you can, like, totally tell me, and I'll come up with another one. I hope you like this one because I really like it. But that doesn't meant that you have to of course—"

"Britt," Santana interrupted. "I'm sure that I'll love it. I loved that clip you played. Go ahead."

Brittany looked down for a moment, taking in the sweet, deep trust in Santana's beautiful brown eyes.

She pressed play.

The sound of violins, violas, and cellos filled the air of Brittany's small apartment, building a slow gentle introduction, a feeling of stasis and longing for something new echoing through the notes. The music faded into a quick country step. Brittany watched as Santana began to grin, the smiling growing as the music sped up. It was going to be so much fun. The bouncy tune went faster and faster until it suddenly ended. There was a moment of silence before the strings turned frightened and urgent, building into a mournful tune, now longing for something held and lost. It grew and pulsed in its own way, grief piling on with each rise and fall of the music. Santana lost her smile and watched Brittany's computer, as the track played past. The urgency reached its peak and settled down into quiet finality, and, underneath the rest, a note of hope.

The last note of the strings faded away, and Brittany waited, almost holding her breath. She hadn't been able to tell what Santana was thinking since the big shift in the music, towards the middle.

"Do you—" Santana started, turning her eyes up to look at Brittany. "Do you really think that I can pull that off?"

Brittany's heart broke. "Yes, I do," she said firmly, reaching out to lace her fingers with Santana's. "In fact, I know you can. And not just because I'm going to help you. Okay?"

Santana let out a little breath. "Yeah."

"Do you like it? Should I burn it onto a cd?" Brittany asked.

"I love it," Santana murmured, squeezing Brittany's hand gently. "I'm just—I can't even tell you, Brittany, how much it means that you put this together that you think I can do this. I love you."

"I love you, too," Brittany said, feeling her ears warm with the happy flush that still seemed to come over her whenever Santana complimented her.

"Do you want me to make the cd, Britt?" Santana asked.

Brittany grinned. There were many, many things that she could do very well with a computer, but for whatever reason, it always seemed to go wrong when she tried to make a cd. As a skater, there had been hundreds of them over the years. Brittany had made cds of the wrong track, ones that turned out blank, ones that would play in the computer but not at the rink, and even one that started off fine, but somehow cut to a completely different song in the middle. It was easier that this point to just let Santana do it.

Brittany handed the computer over. "There are a couple of practices tomorrow that we can use. I think we can probably get it all choreographed tomorrow, and then I'll help you smooth it out until Will gets back."

"Thanks again for doing this, Britt," Santana said, pausing her work on the computer to give Brittany a quick kiss.

"I'm happy to," Brittany said softly, feeling in her heart how true it was.


"Okay," Brittany said, juggling the papers in her hand and attaching them to her clipboard. "We're going to try to keep most of the elements the same as the other program to help." Santana nodded, looking so adorably serious that Brittany couldn't help but crack a smile. They were the only two in the rink at the moment, so Brittany had hooked up the cd player to the sound system and had the remote in her jacket pocket.

"We're going to start a little more down on the end," Brittany said, skating towards the boards on one side. About a third of the way down the rink, she stopped. "Opening pose, whatever, we'll come back to it okay?" Santana nodded again, and Brittany smiled and started the music. The slow strings started again and Brittany listened moving a little to the music. She could feel Santana's eyes on her. Yesterday, she had felt nervous, worried that Santana might hate everything that she came up with, from the music to the choreo, but after night of sleep and listening to the music what seemed like several hundred times, Brittany was ready. Santana watching her felt warm and safe, and Brittany was so excited to build something just for her.

After a few seconds, Brittany nodded and paused the music. "So, arms up, for the pose, somehow, and we're going to bring them down, and come around the corner like this." Brittany demonstrated the careful, gentle arm movements she was talking about, taking the corner backwards, with her head and chest lifted upwards, exuding that tender longing that they had heard echoing in the music last night. "And then into back camel-back sit right here as the music lifts a little," Brittany did an easy upright spin, more for emphasis of the idea and location, then really demonstrating what she wanted. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Santana said. They both skated back to the spot that Brittany had started at before. Santana struck an opening pose, her arms over her head, the right bent to touch the elbow of her left. As the music started, she followed Brittany's directions, completing the footwork and then sweeping herself into the spin, a back camel, spinning on her right foot with her body parallel to the ice and her left leg extended, before scooping that leg and her body down into a tight sit spin position. Brittany nodded, impressed. She knew that Santana was totally capable of picking up choreo quickly and executing it well, but it was amazing to see happening in front of her. There was still some work to be done with expression, but that was to be expected. Santana had spent a long time locking down all of her feeling and skating with all of the technical prowess that she could muster, in an environment that wasn't always supportive of the way that she felt feelings. It would take a little more time for her to really give into the music.

Brittany marked down what they had worked out so far as the music played out a bit. "Great. The lutz is going to be next."


Several hours later, after hammering out the basic shape of the whole program and inserting each of the elements that Santana needed, as well as a break for lunch, they were back on the ice, to smooth things out. They had added features to the spins, like a catch-foot position in Santana's first camel spin, which would help bring up her difficulty and get her bigger points for those elements.

The jumps, Brittany knew Santana could do. They were all the same ones from the program that Will had put together, and Brittany had seen Santana nail that a million times. Brittany had told Santana to just mark the jumps for now. There was no reason for her to beat herself or her joints into the ground, when they were just getting the flow for this new program.

The hardest part, besides the general emotionality, was the footwork sequence. Those were always hard to learn. Brittany knew it sometimes took her several days to fully memorize the footwork steps, to know exactly what was going to come next, and to do it smoothly and cleanly and with emotion. It basically needed to become muscle memory.

But they only had a handful of weeks before Worlds, and only a few days before Will would be back. Brittany and Santana both knew that the program needed to be close to perfect in order for him to approve switching. Between the external factors that made it necessary to learn the footwork quickly and easily and the internal factors of the music and story they were trying to create, Brittany had the idea of pulling steps from one of the dances they had learned when they were younger. It had been a while and the steps couldn't be exactly the same, but it would give Santana a little bit of muscle memory to start from. The music at that point repeated, but faster, and it would give Santana the ability to show quick, sure, deep edges, turns in both directions, and increase in skill, without having to memorize quite so much in the way of new footwork.

For a while, they drilled the footwork sequence, slowly at first, and then faster, tweaking it here and there, adding a different set of complicated steps near the end of each repetition. Soon, Santana had it well enough to be able to keep up with the music.

"At this part," Brittany said to Santana, standing at the boards, playing with her fingertips, "it's like you've finally met someone who makes everything narrow down to this, who makes your heart leap and jump and speed and just wakes up every part of you." Santana's tender smile and deep eyes made Brittany's ears turn red and the corners of her mouth turned up a little, but she had a point to make, so she kept going. "When it cuts to the dark music, that's gone and it feels like it's never coming back, okay? So, with your face and your body, you need to go from this—" Brittany held her hand up high, her head lifted and shoulders back, her posture and face expressing the shining joy that she wanted to see from Santana, "—to this." Brittany dropped her hand low, and with it went everything else, her shoulders, her face, everything coming down to access that feeling of despair. "I know that you know what it all feels like. You just have to let other people know that, too."

Santana nodded, her face serious and that deep line appearing between her eyebrows again. Brittany reached out with the hand already tangling with Santana's fingertips to smooth her thumb over the inside of Santana's wrist. "Hey, we're just starting. We'll get there. I know you can do it. But you don't have to do it perfect right now."

"Okay," Santana said, nodding more firmly, her voice more resolute.

Brittany cued the music up to the right place while Santana skated over to the start of footwork sequence, starting it as soon as Santana gave her the nod that said she was ready. Brittany leaned against the boards as she watched. Santana's movement was good, great even, considering she'd been working on this new sequence for just one session on the ice. If she had been watching this as a girlfriend and not a choreographer, she would have gotten lost in the way Santana pointed her long legs and the way her tight, black pants hugged every curve and dip of her lower body, as she drew herself into these graceful, joyful moments.

But, watching Santana and focusing on the fact that she needed a competitive program by the weekend, Brittany could see that they weren't quite there. It was still stiff, like Santana was trying to remember what a person looked like when they were happy or sad and apply those pasted over the movements that she was doing. Brittany wasn't sure, but she thought she saw echoes of Will and the way that he had Santana choose specific movements to convey the emotions of her piece.

The footwork section ended and Santana continued through the marking of her next jump before stopping. Her shoulders slumped down as she skated over. "That was awful," she said, reaching for her water.

"No, it wasn't," Brittany insisted, setting her clipboard down for a moment. "I think I'm trying to make you an arboreal fish, and that's just not fair of me. Let's run the whole program one more time, and then the footwork a couple of times, just to cement both of those in your mind, and then we'll be done for the day, and we can go take a bath."

Santana practically melted in front of her at mention of a bath, and Brittany grinned at her. "Is the bath my reward or yours?" Santana asked, gliding forward to close a little bit of the space between them.

"I think we both earned it, don't you?" Brittany said, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to Santana's lips. They were cold from the hours they had spent in the rink, and Brittany had to stop herself from kissing them warm again. Instead she tapped the flat of her clipboard against Santana's butt. "Alright, let's do this. I wanna get my bath on."

With a brilliant smile, Santana headed down to the end of the rink.


Later, neck deep in warm water, cradled protectively in Brittany's arm, Santana could feel the difference between a day with Will and a day with Brittany. The only reparations she was having to make were physical, warming cold body parts and easing mild muscle aches. There was no crying in Brittany's arms, no psyching herself up for the next day, no lists of reasons why she loved skating she was needing to run over and over as she sat and soaked. Not for the first time, Santana wondered if she should start looking for another coach. The chances of finding someone who could give her the attention she needed without changing her skating or living situation was unlikely. But skating was her career, her livelihood, her future. If she wasn't doing the best thing, what was the point of doing any of it?

It was a hard conversation to have, even with herself, and with a month and a huge competition still left in the current season, Santana didn't think it was one that she could afford to have now. Instead, she turned her head until she could press a soft kiss to the inside of Brittany's elbow. "Hey, sweetheart?" Santana murmured.

"Mmm, yeah?" Brittany mumbled, shifting a little as she woke from a half-doze, sending a thrill deep through Santana's belly as Brittany stroked her hands up over Santana's sides.

"What did you mean by an arborist fish? I can't figure it out," Santana admitted, resting her hands over Brittany's and lacing their fingers.

"Oh, you know that quote? About everyone being smart but if you try to judge a fish by how well it climbs a tree, it's going to think that it doesn't know how to do anything at all?"

Santana felt her heart thrum in her chest, feeling almost too big for her chest with how much she loved Brittany. "Yeah, I know that one," she managed. It had always been an important quote to Brittany, something Santana had reminded her of a lot before they moved to using tutors.

"Well, I think Will's way of having you express those emotions is, like, a fish climbing a tree, basically. Like, you're trying really hard, honey, but it's not right to make you try that hard. There are different way, ways that are probably better ways. And I just want to find a way that will work."

Santana was still for a moment, her breath caught in her chest at the sweet ache of how much Brittany loved her. It was overwhelming in the very best way. Slowly, Santana turned so she was kneeling between Brittany's legs, facing her. She stroked at the soft, flushed skin of Brittany's cheek and swept her long, blonde hair, damp and darker at the bottom, over her shoulder. Then, Santana leaned in and pressed her lips to Brittany's. She kissed her slowly at first, finding Brittany's top lip for a moment, before sucking gently on her bottom lip. The water splashed, loud even over Santana's so-full heart, as Brittany raised her arms, crossing them over Santana's back to draw her nearer.

They stayed that way for a while, kissing in a deep, languid way, painting their love for each other across lips and cheeks and necks and back to lips, until Santana leaned too far forward, her knee slipping slightly on the bottom of the tub. She suddenly found herself face planting into Brittany's chest. Santana had barely come to a stop before she was laughing, and, as soon as she knew that Santana was okay, Brittany joined in.

"Okay, that seems like a sign," Santana said, pushing herself up and standing to climb out of the tub, the cool water sloshing around her calves as she did. "It's probably time to go to bed."

"I like that plan," Brittany said, leaning forward to let the water out of the tub before climbing out after Santana. "Will there be more kissing?" She asked, reaching for her towel as she watched Santana dry off.

Santana grinned and threw her towel at Brittany. "I guess you'll have to find out," she said, giggling as she ran out and dove into the bed. She could hear Brittany behind her, tripping as she tried to turn off the light, hang up the towel, and follow all at once.

It had been a really good day, and it was looking like a really good night.


The music stopped, and Santana skated for the boards and picked up her water bottle. "Was that any better?" she asked.

Brittany tapped her bottom lip with the end of her pen. "It was," she said after a moment, the gears obviously clicking along in her head. Santana had been working on emotional expression for almost an hour now. Brittany had talked her through the story over their breakfast that morning, and Santana could feel it when Brittany spoke. But it was still hard to put on the ice.
"It was better," she repeated, snapping to full attention. "I just am still feeling like I haven't told you exactly the right thing yet." They stood in silence for a moment, Santana sipping her water and Brittany thinking, tapping her pen the whole time. Finally, she set both the clipboard and the pen down and pulled out the remote to queue up the music again.

"Got it?" Santana asked, unable to help but smile at the grin on Brittany's face.

"Think so." Brittany skated out a little bit, tucking her hands back in her jacket pockets. Her grin was too cute for Santana to even stand.

"Where do you want me, smarty-pants?" Santana asked, biting her lip a little bit to not give away how absolutely radiantly happy Brittany made her feel.

"The lead up to the lutz, but you can mark it. And just be ready for the dance sequence, because I'm going to be there."

Santana didn't quite know what Brittany meant, but she skated down and took her place at the end of the rink. As Brittany started the music, Santana started down the side of the rink, bringing her leg up in a spiral and coming down to tap her right leg into the ice. She spun three times on the ice and then pushed out into her landing position. She rounded the corner, ready to go into her step sequence, when Brittany suddenly stepped into her path. Santana started for a moment, afraid to crash, but Brittany just grabbed her hand and they launched into the steps together, Brittany taking the leading role and fitting in with Santana's steps perfectly.

After her initial moment of shock, Santana could feel the smile growing on her face and the rest of everything—the rink, Will, Worlds, what happened at Nationals—everything receded for a moment, leaving her with the joy of watching Brittany grin at her, their gloved hands slipping a little bit as they tried to keep pace with the final set of steps. Brittany spun her into the twizzle at the end, a quick traveling spin that closed out her sequence. The extra flick that Brittany gave her made Santana travel another rotation or two past her usual stopping point, but she still managed to stop in time with the music.

Santana looked up to give Brittany a smile before she started on the next part of the program. But Brittany wasn't there in front of her. The smile dropped from Santana's face and she looked around, her heart plummeting at the suddenness of it all.

"See," Brittany's voice came from the barrier, and Santana let out a sigh. She must have sprinted away as soon as Santana went into the twizzle. Santana skated over as Brittany stopped the music. "You have all of those feelings inside of you. You already know what they feel like, and because you have the biggest heart of anyone I know, you know what they feel like in a big way that fills you up. You just have to trust that other people will be able to feel it, too. Trust that it's okay to show them. Trust me." Brittany reached out and laced her fingers with Santana's, pulling her a little closer. "Okay?"

Santana couldn't deny, when Brittany talked like that, she felt like she could do anything in the world. "Okay," she said, her voice soft.

"Mark the jumps one more time, and if we think it's pretty much there, we can add them in." Brittany squeezed her hands gently. "Ready?"

Santana nodded. She was. She understood it now.

This time when she skated out to her starting spot, she relaxed into the starting position and closed her eyes. As the music started, Santana opened them, following the choreography that Brittany had set, but trusting the story, opening up that part of her to share. It was easy to do with Brittany, and it might be harder later, with other people watching, but Brittany had always deserved the deepest, most secret parts of her heart. She could open up and show her.

As she skated, she lived the story with her body, putting herself into the role, and letting go, letting Brittany be the love that she felt, instead of some nameless Romeo who'd never been able to get into her heart. When she danced, Santana poured the joy of Brittany into every movement. When that moment ended, suddenly, abruptly, painfully, Santana remembered what it had felt to be on the plane ride home from Russia, how terrified and alone and grief stricken she had felt. She opened up and put her heart into every moment.

When Santana hit her final pose, she held it for a second, breathing hard into the white noise hum of the rink. Slowly, she stood up fully, before finally making eye contact with Brittany. There were tears brimming in Brittany's blue eyes. "That was it?" Santana asked, coming closer, nervous, but knowing it was true all at once.

"That was it," Brittany said, her voice full of pride as she pulled Santana in to kiss her.


Santana tried to take a couple of deep breaths to settle her nerves. For the past few days, she had been working so hard on perfecting her program, and she had never felt better in her life. There was the occasional popped jump, but that was just part of skating. Emotionally, Santana had never connected more to a piece, and she knew she owed a lot to Brittany. After all of that work, though, now was the time when she had to prove it.

Will was back, leaning against the boards, with a look on his face halfway in between impatient and curious. She hadn't really told him much about what she was doing, just saying that she wanted to show him something. Brittany was behind him, standing in the announcer booth in the middle of the side. She gave Santana a thumbs up, and Santana nodded and settled into place.

The music started and Santana followed the first few steps of her program, arms sweeping down as she skated around the corner. Her heart was pounding, but she suddenly remembered watching Brittany do this for the first time only a week ago and the nervous part of her eased into place, just as she kicked her leg into the camel spin. Santana reached behind as she bent her leg, grabbing her blade in a catch-foot position.

So much had happened since the last time Santana had skated for Will. Santana barely felt like the same person she had been two weeks ago when they left for Sochi. Or, maybe, that wasn't exactly right. At this moment, Santana felt more herself than she ever had before. And that realization, exactly in the middle of her set up for her lutz, helped shove away the last bit of nerves she had, just as she landed the jump perfectly.

Santana put every bit of herself and her love for Brittany into the program. The more that she got used to it, the better it felt to let everyone see this vulnerable little piece of her. Brittany was the best thing in her life and expressing that through the sport she loved just made it so much better.

It seemed like seconds before Santana was hitting her last pose, letting the last note of the piano ring in the air. Then, she relaxed out of the pose and skate over to Will. Brittany came out of the announcer booth and stood beside him. Santana had to resist reaching out to hold her hand. Looking at Will's face, Santana could already tell this wasn't going to go her way and she deflated a bit.

"That was nice, but it's just way too late to change programs. We'll start work on the Romeo and Juliet tomorrow."

"But this one is ready!" Santana protested, despite her better judgement. "I landed everything, I didn't miss a step in the choreo sequences, I know my expression was better than anything it has ever been before. We have a month to iron out any of the last bumps."

Santana let her words die out as she saw Will's face harden a little bit. "I said no. The Romeo and Juliet program has worked for the rest of the season. We can look at this one for next year." His voice was firm and dangerous.

"But it hasn't worked—," Brittany started to protest.

"I don't remember you joining the coaching staff, Brittany," Will snapped, cutting her off. "I'm not interested in wasting my time fighting with the two of you. When you're ready to act like the adults and professional athletes that you're supposed to be, feel free to come find me." And Will stormed away.

Santana and Brittany watched him go, then Brittany sighed and turned towards Santana. "I'm sorry," she said with a pout, reaching out to curl her fingers around Santana's arm. "I wish that went better."

"Whatever," Santana said with a half shrug. "I'm going to do this program, Will can decide if he wants to coach me in it or not." She was surprised how much she actually meant that.

Brittany studied her face very carefully for a moment. Santana could almost feel her checking to see if Santana looked as calm as she seemed. "He's probably just going to go vent to Emma," Brittany pointed out after a moment. "And then she'll talk sense into him and you'll be back on the ice with this tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Santana said with a sigh.

"Do you want a milkshake?" Brittany offered, tucking a lock of hair behind Santana's ear.

The short laugh that burst out helped Santana shake the bad feeling that had settled over her. "No, I actually think I'm okay. I'd rather go make lunch with you."

Brittany grinned. "That sounds like a plan.


Brittany had been right. The next day, Will came back and asked for Santana's cd and Brittany's choreography papers. After watching Santana run through a few times, Will switched her double axel and her lutz-toe lop combination. Santana had to admit that the resulting program was a little easier on her legs. The program seemed to grow on Will as they worked on it, until he seemed actually excited as Worlds approached. Brittany was working just as hard with Mike, and they spent most of their nights at Brittany's apartment, to be a little closer to the rink.

It hardly seemed like any time had passed before they were boarding the plane to Japan. The practices went by in a blur, so different from when they had been in Russia only a few months before. There was less time to get ready, fewer distractions around them. In no time, the competition had started. Pairs short program led it all off and Brittany and Mike did very well again, placing fifth in the short program. The next morning, they did even better in their free skate, nailing every element and landing themselves in fourth place. Later that evening, Santana skated her short program and finished in fourth place, behind a Japanese skater, Quinn, and an Italian skater.

Two days later, Santana was taking her place on the ice, last skater in the group and the competition, just after Quinn. Her name was announced and a cheer, somewhere between polite and enthusiastic, rose up from the crowd. Santana took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down the sparkling white surface of the costume she had loved but never be able to wear before, and skated to her starting spot. Before she struck her opening pose, she glanced over to the boards where Brittany was waiting. Brittany tapped her heart a couple of times and blew her a kiss. Santana nodded and struck her opening pose.

The strings rose, and Santana gave herself over to the skate. She floated around the corner, her arms fluttering down. It seemed like she barely had to push off the ice to launch herself high into the flying entry and then catch that crisp backwards edge perfectly that allowed her to get herself into a beautiful catch-foot camel spin. With the music, Santana transitioned into a tight sit spin. She pulled herself out of the spin and stroked around the end of the rink, before dropping her upper body down and extending her right leg high above her. As she approached the opposite corner, Santana snapped her leg down and her body up at the same time, launching herself into a high, perfect lutz.

The music picked up into the step sequence, and a huge smile broke onto Santana's face as she brought her arms up and danced, remembering what it had felt like to have Brittany there when they were practicing this a few weeks ago. Her blades were quick and sure on the ice, twisting back and forth. She could hear the audience start to clap along with the music. Santana reached the twizzle, the last part of the step sequence, and nailed it.

The sudden shift of the music shocked the audience, Santana could feel it, remembering what it had felt like to get that slap in the face, the aching fear as she realized how different things would be, and she projected that through every bit of her body. Her movements carried her into the next jumping pass. Santana leaped forward off her toe pick, turning around a quick two and a half times to land her double axel, immediately picking down with her left foot for a triple toe loop, and then again. The last time she could feel a little give, a little slip in her take off, and the tilt in the air. Santana did all she could to save the jump, her muscles straining to stay upright. In the end, it wasn't anything more than a hand down and she managed to stay on her feet.

The next move was a spin almost immediately after. Santana pushed herself into another back sit spin, trying to check in with herself while she spun. She gritted her teeth for a moment, changing feet into a front sit spin. This was supposed to be as much Brittany's moment as hers, and she couldn't mess it up. Brittany was always telling her that she deserved these things, that she could do well, and damn it, for once, she wanted to prove her right. Santana rose up into her last position, an upright catch foot spin, before pushing out.

The music surged ahead again and Santana went with it, attacking her double axel with everything she had, landing it perfectly clean. Only a few steps later was the triple lutz-triple toe loop combination, and Santana put herself completely into that jump, too.

Her blade practically whispered, the landing was so clean.

That was her last jumping pass and the crowd cheered their approval.

Santana pushed into the last choreographic pass, stretching herself into a beautiful spiral and then a series of turning steps as the music slowed. Finally, she found herself back near the center and Santana pushed into her final element. She started with a broken leg spin, crouched low like a sit spin, with her free leg trailing out to the side. She pulled the same leg up as she spun, until it was straight over her head in an i-spin. Santana released her leg, using the extra momentum to keep her speed up as she dropped back into a layback spin. Then, finally, Santana brought her arms and legs in, slow and tight, building herself into a fast scratch spin. With the last notes, Santana glided out and hit her pose.

The crowd roared, but all Santana saw was Brittany's smiling face.

The time between finishing a program and getting her scores never seemed so short. Santana felt like she'd barely put on her guards and sat down when her scores were announced. Her one almost-fall had cost her advancing any high in the standings, but she had held firm in her fourth place spot and, after the nationals she'd had, fourth was an amazing place.


When they got back to their room in the hotel, close to midnight Santana went into the bathroom to wash off the hairspray and make up. Brittany busied herself with unpacking Santana's bag and changing for bed. Fifteen minutes later, Santana came out again and sat down on the edge of the bed, a comb in her hand, though she didn't bring it to her hair.

"Honey?" Brittany said, softly, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Santana said, transferring the comb to her left hand and listlessly pulling it through a few strands of dark, wet hair.

"Let me," Brittany offered, taking the comb and starting to work it through Santana's long hair. "You're still a shitty liar, but we don't have to talk right now if you're tired. It's been an overwhelming day."

"No, that's the problem," Santana said, keeping her head still so that Brittany could brush her hair. "It wasn't overwhelming. I mean—" She broke off for a minute and then reached back to still Brittany's hand, so she could turn and face her. "I loved skating the program that you made for me. It was the best that I've felt out on the ice since—I don't know—since we were like twelve. But, it was my best day ever, and it still felt like something was missing. I don't know what. But I could feel it and—" Brittany dropped the comb and reached for Santana as tears came to her eyes. "Why doesn't it make me happy like it should?" she asked.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Brittany said, smoothing her hand over Santana's back. "We'll figure it out, okay? All summer, you and I will figure it out. It'll be alright. I promise, it'll be alright." Brittany hoped she could keep her promise.


Author's Note: I want to thank you for your patience. Since the last chapter, I started grad school and had knee surgery, so writing has been a lower priority than I would like. There are a lot of costumes and music for this chapter, so please check out my tumblr at sadiered dot tumblr dot com. Feel free to direct any questions to me there, as well, even if you don't have a tumblr, because I'll answer any questions I get over there.