No sexy times yet…Just a lot of talking. But, it's coming…Still doing the dual POV in the same chapter. That might become a thing from here on out…Let's see how it goes.

Disclaimer: I actually am not Ryan Murphy and Co. So I don't own Glee.

Chapter 11

Brittany snapped her eyes open. She was sleeping on her side, right at the edge on the right side of her bed. Her first thought of the day was just one name: Santana. She turned around to find the spot next to her empty, but still warm. She raised herself slightly, until she was supporting her upper body with her elbows. She strained to hear, finally breathing easy once she realized there were sounds coming from the kitchen.

She stood up and stretched, before doing a triple pirouette in place. She was that excited, and the day hadn't even truly begun yet.

She padded barefoot into her kitchen, smiling at the sight that greeted her. Santana was currently on her tip-toes, trying to reach for something on a shelf above her. She decided against lending a hand in favor of appreciating the smaller girl's backside. Santana still wore Brittany's clothes, the same ones she went to bed with the night before. She couldn't decide which view she preferred, Santana's front or back.

"I can feel you staring at me," Santana disrupted Brittany's very pleasurable thoughts. "Mind giving me a hand here?"

Brittany rolled her eyes playfully, before making her way to her. She saw Santana was pointing to a plastic container she didn't even know she owned. She reached up and easily acquired the item for her.

"Did you really feel me staring at you?" Brittany asked, more out of a desire to fill in the silence rather than a desire to know the answer.

"Educated guess. I could hear you breathing, and when you didn't say anything, I figured you were probably checking out my ass."

"A little too confident, aren't we?"

"Hey, I know I got myself some hot assets. Don't tell me you disagree?" Santana looked pointedly at her. She laughed, raising her hands in surrender. She definitely couldn't argue with that.

"Thought so," Santana said with a smirk. Brittany took a moment to admire another one of her favorite Santana expressions. Once again, she felt the urge to kiss her cute defined dimple. This time, she didn't hold back. She leaned down and placed a small peck right where she wanted. She felt Santana's breathing falter.

"Britt," she breathed out. "You're distracting me. Go sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

"Can I help with anything?"

"No way, I got this. That was our deal."

"Ok." Brittany moved to the table in the living room, pouting when she realized she couldn't see Santana anymore. She thought back to Santana's own kitchen, and her breakfast style counter that allowed for a completely open view of the interior. If Santana cooking for her was going to become a regular thing, she might have to seriously consider investing in some redecorating.

"San, do you mind eating on the couch?" she called out.

"We can eat wherever you want."

Brittany slid open the doors to the balcony, shivering slightly at the morning chill. She sat down on her couch and leaned her head back, trying to catch a few glimpses of Santana through the open kitchen door. After a few minutes, Santana came out carrying two steaming cups. Brittany jumped up to relieve her, and watched as she turned back only to come out holding three full plates.

"Geez San, that's a lot. How long have you been up?"

"Like, half an hour. You have some sick appliances in there, Britt."

"Yeah, it's all Blaine. He pretty much stocked my whole kitchen with a bunch of state of the art crap I don't use."

"Well, if you ever want to get rid of any of them, you let me know," Santana laughed a little awkwardly. Brittany smiled at her apparent nervousness. She was actually surprised at how calm and collected she felt; normally, this would be the time when she would be itching to run away and hide.

"I missed you when I woke up this morning," she said, loving how flustered Santana was getting. When she almost dropped the plate she was holding, Brittany decided not to tease the girl anymore.

Santana sat quietly next to her, and they both ate in silence. Brittany asked if she should turn on the TV, and Santana shook her head no. When she saw the Latina was mostly playing with her food, she took her plate and set it along with her own on the coffee table in front of them.

"Is this too much?" Brittany looked at her in concern.

"No, no Britt. I'm just," Santana wiped both her hands on her thighs. "Really nervous for some reason."

"Hm," Brittany considered her next move. She knew Santana liked her; she had even said so herself right before they first kissed. The least she could do was return the favor.

"Britt?" Santana said before Brittany could formulate any words. "I-I like you. A lot. I like how easy it is to be around you. I love our friendship, I do. But, we've been…growing closer these past few days, and I just need to know. Is friendship all you want? Do you see us being something more, one day?"

"San, look at me." She waited until Santana looked away from her hands, now clutching her thighs for dear life, and into her eyes. "I like you too. And in case you didn't notice, I can't seem to be around you without wanting to kiss you at least once. So, yeah, I definitely want us to be more than friends."

Santana let out the big perfect smile she loved, and Brittany almost swooned at how adorably sexy she looked.

"Which is why," she cleared her throat. Damn her inability to talk whenever Santana smiled at her like that. "I really wanted us to talk first thing today. I don't know where to begin. I guess I should apologize for yesterday. What I did –"

"No, Britt, no apologies necessary. I mean it," Santana cut her off. Brittany nodded, thinking how she should proceed now.

"Oh, I know. How about you ask me something? Anything you want to know."

Santana narrowed her eyes in thought.

"Why do you hate Rachel?"

Of course she had to ask that, Brittany thought.

"I don't hate Rachel."

"Brittany, come on. At one point yesterday, I actually feared for her safety."

Brittany rolled her eyes.

"I don't hate her. I just, I get so angry when she's around. She's always taking everything away from me."

Brittany instantly regretted her harsh tone at seeing Santana's bulging eyes. She rubbed her forehead, wondering how she could explain everything in a way that made sense. She was never the greatest with words.

"Ok, let me start over?" Santana nodded for her to continue. "Kurt and I, we've know each other since we were kids. Kurt's dad and my father are buddies; Kurt's been in my life for as long as I can remember. We became best friends, we did everything together. He's," Brittany softened. "He's my unicorn."

"Then high school happened. I got into the cheerleading team, the step team, you name it. I was popular. Kurt, he met Rachel Berry, and joined glee club. He was at the bottom of the food chain. You know?"

"Oh, I know."

Brittany grimly nodded at Santana's comment. Everyone knew what a vindictive place high school could be to some people.

"I didn't care about how 'uncool' he was. I refused to stop hanging out with him. I even pretended to date him for a while, but everyone knew he was gay, so that didn't really work. I joined glee club. I sat down with him at lunch. I tried, I really did. But, it still happened. We grew apart."

Brittany took a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

"And in the meantime, he and Rachel became closer. They did everything together. He found someone more like him. He never had time for me. When we did things together, she was always there. Then his step-brother started dating her, and after that, it was like we lived in two different worlds."

Brittany made sure she still had her attention before she continued. Santana's eyes were riveted on her.

"I hated him for that. For a long time. I don't really get along with my parents, and my sister is so much younger than me, she and I never really bonded. Even though I was so popular, I had a really hard time making friends. They all made fun of how bad I was in school. I was the stupid slutty dancer. Kurt was all I had, and then I didn't have him anymore."

"How old is your sister?" Santana asked while Brittany paused to gather her thoughts together.

"She just turned 18, actually. She graduated this year. Top of her class," Brittany let out a mirthless laugh. "Little Ashley, my parents' pride and joy." She closed her eyes. She wouldn't let that old anger consume her, not ever again. "Like I said, my parents and I don't get along. Unfortunately, resenting my sister is pretty much a given, even though she doesn't really deserve it."

She waited to see if Santana would jump on that piece of information, but she remained silent. Inwardly, Brittany was thankful. She wasn't quite ready to open that can of worms just yet.

"So, back to Kurt. By junior year, we were barely talking. That summer, Rachel was away doing whatever, so Kurt and I had a chance to reconnect. We talked, a lot. Put a lot of things out on the table. I told him everything I felt, he said a lot of things too. How he felt like my charity case, and how he was holding me back, all this stuff I thought back then was a bunch of horseshit." She grinned at Santana's surprised laugh.

"But, we promised that senior year would be different. And it was. Until one day, he tells me he and Rachel were moving to New York. And just like that, it felt like he was leaving me behind, all over again," Brittany continued. "I found a dancing gig out that way, so I went with them. Worst time of my life. Not even three months in, I packed everything and went back to Chicago. We lost touch. Then Paris happened, and it was easy to just, disappear. The rest you know."

"But, how did Kurt end up here, in Boston?" Santana wondered. "I know Rachel came to study at Berklee after NYADA."

"He decided performing wasn't his thing. When Rachel moved here, Kurt came with her. His dad helped him open his own boutique. He'd interned with Vogue magazine in New York, he had the contacts, and the talent. Today, he's super successful." Brittany sipped her coffee again, now almost cold, to relieve her dry throat. "By the time Blaine and I moved here, Rachel was graduating from her master's program, and Kurt was getting his store off the ground. I was at a better stage in my life, so when Kurt tried reaching out, I reached back. I helped him with the store. I may not be book smart, but I'm good with numbers," Brittany shrugged self-consciously. "He helped me get started with the restaurant. He knew who to contact, what permits I would need, he set me up with a lawyer, everything. If it hadn't been for his help, I might still be struggling my way through."

Brittany observed Santana as she processed everything she'd learned. She looked deep in thought, and Brittany wondered what she was thinking.

"So, that's the long answer. I don't hate Rachel. I just blame her for everything." They laughed. "No, seriously though. I don't hate her. Like, I'm actually really grateful to her. She took care of Kurt when I couldn't. But, I just got my best friend back. Thinking back on it all, it still hurts. But I don't want to ruin our friendship again. Rachel's my outlet. I mean, bitch is always around. Even you know her," Brittany accusingly pointed at Santana, smiling slightly to show she was teasing. "It's so annoying."

"I can see that," Santana said. "What happened to dancing?"

Brittany winced.

"That's, that's another long story. Is it ok if we leave that for another time? Can't be giving away all my secrets all at once," she tried to laugh it off. Santana shot her this knowing look, and Brittany knew she didn't fool her.

"Of course, Britt."

###

"It's your turn San. I think you owe me a couple of 'in person' explanations," Brittany chuckled.

"Right, yes I do. Uh, I guess I should start with me and Quinn?"

"Actually, I'd rather hear about why you dropped out of college."

Santana hesitated. She wanted to tell Brittany, but she knew telling this story would cause her to break down. Was she ready to be that vulnerable in front of the other woman?

She watched Brittany gaze calmly back at her. She felt anchored by the deep blue eyes, infused with a sudden peace. Brittany had shared so much of herself with Santana. Yes, she could do the same. She could be vulnerable in front of her; she could break apart, because she knew Brittany would be there to keep her together.

"I lost my mom 3 years ago. Cancer." Brittany's eyes got big and sad, but she didn't interrupt. "I found out about it a couple of months before she died. She told me that she and my dad decided they wouldn't tell me early on, because they didn't want to interrupt my life. As if anything I could ever do would ever be more important than help take care of her," Santana forced herself to laugh; she felt like she could fall into a pit of sadness at any moment. "She was so proud when Quinn and I got into Yale. Even more than my dad, the surgeon. She told me she would never forgive herself if she got in the way."

She smiled when Brittany took her hand and brought it to her lap. Santana squeezed it to show she appreciated the contact.

"When they finally told me, Quinn and I dropped everything and went back home. God Britt, she was so sick. I could barely recognize her. It happened so fast. Even though I still had almost two months with her, it felt like nothing. I blinked, and she was gone. I didn't understand. I didn't, couldn't, accept it. After she died, I felt like something inside me broke. I didn't want to do anything anymore. School, date, eat, sleep," Santana breathed out a shuddering breath. "So I dropped out. I did what my mom was so afraid of. I can't imagine how disappointed she would be if she knew."

Santana startled when she felt Brittany touch her cheek, gently wiping away tears she didn't even know were falling.

"Oh San," she said, eyes watering.

"It's not so bad now," Santana let out a wet chuckle at Brittany's unbelieving look. "Honest. I mean, it's still hard. Some days, something happens that reminds me of her, and I can't sleep. I get stuck in this dark place. I feel like, if I can't dedicate every moment to remembering her, I'm going to forget her. So I try to stay awake, and I think of her, for as long as I can." Santana shook her head, trying to dispel the despair clawing at her insides. "She was my best friend. It kills me that I can't be who she wanted me to be. I don't know how to make her be proud of me. I've been so lost without her."

Santana felt like a dam broke inside of her. She started crying. She'd never uttered those words, her biggest fears and regrets, out loud before. She covered her mouth, trying to control herself. When she felt Brittany pull her close and envelop her in a hug, she sobbed harder.

She started to calm down after a while. Santana didn't know how long it had been since she started crying, but Brittany had held her the entire time. Santana took a deep breath, burrowing her nose in the blonde's neck and inhaling her sweet vanilla scent.

"I get it, you know?" she heard Brittany say. "I'd be angry too."

Santana pulled back, frowning in confusion.

"What makes you think I'm angry?"

Brittany shrugged.

"You never got to say good-bye. Not really. Your dad, he had all this time with your mom. I'm sure it was super hard for him, to watch his wife go through this horrible disease. But he was there, by her side, every step of the way. They took that from you. You didn't get the good-bye you might have wanted. I'd be angry too."

Santana stilled, feeling like a huge chunk of her life had snapped back into place. Was that it? Was she angry? This overwhelming grief she still felt, this inability to live, was that all anger? Sure, she'd raged when she found out about her mom's sickness, and how her parents had kept it all from her. But then her mom had gotten so much worse, she'd had to push it all to the back of her mind. She never realized that, little by little, all that buried anger had been crippling her.

"I guess you're right, Britt. I have been angry. So angry. How are you so smart?" Santana tried to joke, but Brittany just looked at her. Santana felt her chest expand with this sudden epiphany. "She kept it all from me, and she convinced my dad not to say anything. She didn't let me be there for her. I'm so mad at her for that."

All at once, Santana sagged against the couch. As it always happened, whenever she would think of her mom, the sadness and the grief overpowered all other emotion, and she became stuck, withdrawn. She was about to let the memories she had of her mom flood her mind when she felt Brittany tighten the hold she had on her hand into a painful grip.

"Hey, where'd go?"

"Huh?" Why was Brittany looking at her like that?

"Santana!" Brittany scooched closer until she had Santana pressed against the arm of the couch. The feeling of Brittany almost on top of her, all around her, snapped her back to reality. "Hey, you with me?"

"Yeah, Britt, I'm with you."

"Ok. You scared me, San." She would have laughed at Brittany's adorable pout if she didn't look so worried.

"I'm sorry, Britt-Britt," Santana stalled, at a loss. She didn't know what else she could say, without sounding like a complete lunatic. She'd basically gotten lost inside herself, and Brittany had witnessed the whole thing.

"Does that happen a lot?" she asked quietly. Santana nodded. "Have you tried talking to someone about it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Quinn and I have been there for each other. And believe it or not, Rachel helped me a lot too." Brittany tilted her head, looking uncertain. "I'm serious. She kinda knows all about absent mothers."

"Hm, I guess you're right. But, I meant like…"

"Like a therapist?" Santana frowned.

"Maybe. It's not as bad as it sounds."

"Do you…" Santana didn't know how to phrase the question without sounding judgmental.

"I used to, kind of. There's this guidance counselor at my high school. Her name's Emma. She took an interest in me, she saw early on I wasn't doing good at school. She helped me study, kept me focused. I talked to her about things. We still talk." Brittany looked a bit embarrassed at the admission. "She's the closest thing I have to a parent figure."

"I'm glad you have someone like that in your life, Britt," Santana said. She didn't want Brittany to feel embarrassed about sharing herself with her.

"Me too. She taught me a lot. I'm not good with putting things into words, but she showed me how to analyze my rambling thoughts, and weed out the things that matter. Knowing myself that intimately, it really helps."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, San. After high school, I was so angry. I used to think no one saw me, and that only made me angrier. Everybody around me was happy, moving on with their lives, and that pissed me off. I would feel this need to make everyone around me as mad as I was, and that scared me. I think it was recognizing that part of me that helped me control it. Now I just have to remind myself that I'd rather be happy than angry."

"And that works?" Santana asked, fascinated by her words. Brittany was uncannily describing almost everything she felt right at that moment. The helplessness, the need to lash out; it was all painfully familiar.

"Hm, I take it day by day," Brittany shrugged. "It got a lot easier after I opened the restaurant. You know, I used to think I was the only angry person in the world, but now I don't think that. Because now I don't have to remind myself that there are other angry people out there. They come into my restaurant almost every day, and I see them, I know they exist." Brittany looked down, watching as she played with Santana's fingers. "And not just that, but I see the happy people too. Like, once, this guy proposed to his girlfriend after dinner, and she said yes. They were so happy, and I remember thinking to myself, 'this is going to be their place.' Like, maybe in a year, I'll see them again when they come back to celebrate their anniversary. Or maybe in two years she'll choose my restaurant to tell him she's pregnant or something."

"And that makes me happy," Brittany looked into Santana's eyes. "Life is made of memories. And my restaurant, something I build, is going to be a part of those people's memories forever. Good memories. That's what I wanted to do, with dancing. I wanted to be memorable. I found another way to be just that."

"You still need to tell me about that," Santana whispered. Who was this amazing woman, and how lucky was she that Brittany chose to approach her in that Starbucks?

"And you still need to tell me about how you know Rachel," Brittany also whispered. Santana realized they were so close, there was almost no room for air to pass between their bodies. "And about Quinn. It sounds like you guys are really close. She really loves you."

"I know. You're not jealous, are you?"

"San," Brittany rolled her eyes. "Do you want me to be jealous?"

"Maybe," Santana breathed against Brittany's approaching lips.

"Maybe I am. A little."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Mhm," Santana was about to close the miniscule gap when Brittany's front door burst open.

"I'm home!" Kurt exclaimed, waltzing inside the apartment. He closed the door with a flourish before approaching them. "Oohh, did I interrupt somethi–AAHH!"

Santana and Brittany gasped in unison. They watched helplessly as Kurt's leg fell straight through the tarp-covered hole.

"Damn it! Ow, my balls," Kurt tried to pull himself up, but his legs were almost completely splayed open and he couldn't find a grip. Brittany snorted. "What are you two looking at, come help me!"

Brittany turned her face into Santana's neck, laughing uncontrollably. She couldn't do anything else but join her. Santana covered her mouth, trying to hide her mirth from Kurt.

"Bitch, get me out of here!"

"Ok, ok," Brittany jumped up and gripped Kurt under his arms, pulling him up and out of the hole. Santana watched as he dropped to the floor next to the coffee table, hands clenching between his legs.

"Is everything alright up there, dear?"

Santana looked on, astonished, as Brittany stuck her head down the hole.

"Everything is fine, Mrs. Patti. I'm so sorry Kurt's leg fell through your ceiling."

"Fuck you, Brittany, this is all your fault. Oh, it hurts so much," Kurt moaned in pain.

Brittany stood up.

"Why are you so sensitive down there, anyway? Have fun with Blaine last night?" she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room.

Santana's laughter died down in the face of Kurt's dark scowl. Who knew she'd be having this much jovial fun after the soul stirring morning she just experienced? So many things had been cleared, and so many things had yet to come out into the open. But one thing she knew for sure: as long as she stayed with Brittany, she'd never live another dull moment ever again.