Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Chapter Twelve: Meet the family Part three
Amy's POV:
My mom and Mama Pierce have taught me so much in my five years on this planet. I'm glad that I've got such great people around me who love me and are always there for me. Mama Pierce is really fun; she always lets me eat the bottom of the cake mix whenever we cook and she's got a lot of energy for somebody sooooo old! I don't mean that in a nasty way, but compared to me, she is kind of ancient. Anyway, my mom was pretty similar to Mama Pierce but she's the only one that can do these great voices when she reads me a bedtime story. So yeah, I think I'm really lucky to have them. I couldn't have wished for more.
My family are big on manners, they don't like rude people, so naturally - as I've grown up in that environment - I get a little mad when people don't say thank you or please. Another valuable lesson they've taught me is that first impressions are important, that you should always try to make a good first impression so that somebody can see, almost instantly, what kind of a person you are. Like the time when my mom went to job interviews she was dressed up really smart and (I think) looked super pretty. But what made me really understand first impressions was when I saw my mom's friend for the first time.
Santana was hugging my mom; she had long black hair which was wavy, tan skin which looked kind of nice against my mom's paler tone. I concluded that she was beautiful but she was wearing some funny clothes. Some really really short shorts, weird tight things and a tight top that looked like it was difficult for her to breathe. I knew that hugs were special (my mom had taught me that as well) so Santana must have been special to my mom. I figured that they were friends, maybe best friends, because I hadn't seen my mom look that happy when she looked at Kurt – her first best friend - he dressed weird as well, I didn't understand why he had a hippos head on his jacket, adults are so confusing sometimes!
I had never heard the name Santana before. I thought it sounded glamorous, like a famous person's name. I was a little sad that my mom hadn't said anything about her friend to me, coz we share a lot of secrets with each other, but when I saw the scared look on Santana's face when she saw me I guessed that she didn't know about me either. Anyway I could tell that Santana was important to my mom so I was excited when the pretty lady agreed to be my friend. I didn't hesitate to hug her – to show her she was special – and she was real comfy.
Santana had made a good first impression and I couldn't wait to spend some time with her. After all if my mom and Santana were super duper happy around each other then I was sure that I would be seeing a lot more of her.
"-and this is my room." I was thrilled that I got to give Santana a little tour of my home. I had been talking non-stop because I was excited and although Santana hadn't said much, not that she had much of a chance, I was encouraged by her smiling throughout and she gently squeezed my hand which I guessed was a sign that she was listening to me.
Santana looked around my bedroom with wide eyes. The walls were a light pink colour, my bed had Disney characters on and I had some furniture for my clothes. My toys were in a box at the end of my bed and there were silver stars painted on the walls. It didn't matter that most of my toys and furniture were second hand or that my room was quite small. I cared more about the fact that my mom and Mama Pierce had decorated it and it felt like home. But then again wherever my family were was home.
"Don't you like it?" I asked in a small voice, a sigh escaped my lips and my shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment.
Santana knelt down to my level so that our eyes were locked; she had a soft expression about her features "I love it!" And with those few words I could tell she was being genuine and that resulted in a shy grin forming on my face.
"You do?" I asked to which she nodded. I tapped my chin a few times with my finger, thinking about what I wanted to say next. All the while Santana was silently waiting for me to continue. "What do you like most about my room?" Was the question I settled on.
"Well..." Santana paused and I couldn't help chuckling at her. Once I had my laughter under control I fixed Santana with the famous Pierce pout and she crumbled, like I expected she would. "Everything," Santana confirmed her answer with a firm nod of her head.
"No silly!" I shook my head "You have to choose one thing." Didn't she understand the question? I told you adults were weird and confusing!
Santana put her hands up in surrender "Okay, Okay. Ummmm... I'll tell you but you have to promise that you won't tell anybody this, not even your mom," I looked at her confused, I didn't lie to my mom and I wasn't sure how I felt about doing exactly that. Luckily for me she continued "I like the pink walls," Santana whispered into my ear even though nobody else was around.
I studied her expression and realised that she wasn't joking. I thought she was going to say something else; after all she was acting like it was a big secret that she didn't want anyone else to know, so I couldn't help the laughter that followed. Santana stood back up to her full height and I didn't miss the slight hurt look on her face. I reached for her hand and tugged it slightly so she was looking at me. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings.
"Why don't you want my mom to know that?" I asked curiously.
"Because I have a reputation to uphold," Santana answered me. I was even more confused now, I didn't know what she meant and my head was starting to hurt. "If she knows that I like pink then she'd think I'm a big soft teddy bear." I understood this time but at the same time I didn't.
"And that's bad?" I asked unsure.
Santana nodded "Yeah."
"My mom doesn't judge people," I said after a while. I wanted to assure Santana that my mom liked people for who they were and that Santana liking pink wouldn't change anything.
Santana smiled at me "You're a genius Amy. Just like your mom." She ruffled my hair and I squealed whilst taking a step back. "Can you smell food?" Santana asked me.
"Yep!" I nodded as the scent of mom's cooking drifted through the room. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"What?"
I grinned at her wickedly before shouting "Last one to the kitchen is a loser!"
"Be prepared to lose Kiddo!" Santana exclaimed, smirking at me.
Yep, Santana was pretty awesome.
Brittany's POV:
After I had walked into the kitchen and was sitting on the counter (earning a disapproving glare from my mom) I watched as my mom made breakfast. Although I was the one that lived here I was almost certain that my mom knew my house better than me. She was always coming round and reorganising my kitchen – moving plates, rearranging the fridge/freezer. Apparently the way I had supposedly 'chucked' everything in didn't make any sense. At the time I had whined and said that I was an adult now and could arrange my cupboards the way I wanted to.
However I was always eternally grateful for anything my mom did for me and Amy, she had been – and still was – a role model, friend and above all one of the only people who I could trust with anything. She knew me inside out as did I her. I knew that whenever I needed to talk to her she would be there with a cup of tea, some Jammie Dodgers (my favourite biscuit as a child – they still were as an adult) and lots of hugs and advice. I had told her once that she should have been an agony aunt, especially after she had raised four kids who had caused her a huge amount of situations to deal with.
I admired the woman who was now pouring some batter into the sizzling pan. She was the bravest person I knew. Shortly after I found out I was pregnant I had asked my mom what motherhood was like. We had talked for hours on that subject, me telling her that I was so so scared of messing up and her saying I was talking nonsense – that she knew I would be an excellent mother. I had questioned her on that which led to her listing every quality I had that was a sure fire tell that I would not flop at motherhood. But the words I had remembered the most were: 'As long as you show your child love, safety and acceptance you cannot go wrong.'
In the first few months of Amy's life I was often found by my mother crying on the bathroom floor with my beautiful baby girl in my arms. Whatever I did – changed her diaper, wrapped a blanket around her, and fed her – she wouldn't stop crying. I felt like a failure. I didn't want to ask for help (even though my mom had willingly offered to look after her for a few hours). I wanted to show my mom that I could cope, but my daughter didn't seem to warm up to me. I was afraid that she'd never stop crying. So after the second time my mom had found me looking sleep deprived, silent tears running down my face with a bawling baby in my arms curled up on the bathroom floor she had taken action.
I let all of my worries come out in the form of hysterical crying and mumbled words as I had sobbed in her arms for hours on end. She had managed to put Amy to bed, singing her a lullaby as little eyelids fluttered closed and shallow breaths could be heard indicating that she was in dreamland. Eventually I had stopped crying and after my mom had told me that becoming a parent is a learning process, it's scary, difficult and seems impossible at times. But that I had to take each day as it came, learning little by little and as the first birthday of Amy's approached I was no longer crying on bathroom floors, telling my mom I couldn't do it.
Sure, I was still petrified of doing something wrong but knew whenever Amy smiled at me a burst of happiness filled my entire being and I guessed that I wasn't doing half-bad. And now as Amy was five I was so grateful with the way she had turned out. She was extremely polite for a five year old, a little shy around new people, and full of energy and above all happy. I hadn't had any problems with her thus far; she was a well behaved kid who didn't get into scraps in the playground and wasn't known for back-chat. I had my mother to thank for that. She was almost like a second parent to my daughter and I was beyond grateful for the amount of time she spent with us and her mere presence in our lives.
"Brittany," I hadn't realised my mom had been trying to get my attention for a good few minutes now. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't known she had been talking to me. I locked eyes with her, as soon as I did she knew that there was something important I had been thinking about "I've been talking to you and you haven't said one word in over ten minutes," she smirked at me – I wasn't a quiet person – but then a frown took over "What were you thinking about?" her tone was soft, luring me into telling her everything, it was the voice she used when she wanted people to open up to her and boy did it work.
"You," I replied honestly.
"Me?" puzzlement etched its way onto her face.
I wondered what she thought I would have been thinking about. Santana, of course! My internal voice answered for me. Oh yeah, because all I ever do is think about her lately, I replied somewhat sarcastically. Hey enough of the attitude lady, I'm just here to point out some simple little facts. More like creating trouble and twisting the facts. You'd be lost without me and you know it. I really doubt that. But who would put up with your denial and your crazy? Huh, no-one, my friend – no-one. Denial? I'm not even going to bother answering you, I've told you a hundred times already and you haven't listened to me, so no. I think you're the one obsessed with Santana, not me. Well technically I am you... Shit. Haha you got yourself into that one! Seriously just leave me alone. Okay, I can see you are still struggling so I'll give you a little space. I'd never thought I'd say this to you but thank you. You are very welcome my dear.
I concluded that I needed to stop having conversations with my internal voice; it really did me no good.
"Y'know just what an awesome mom and human being you are in general," I replied with a massive smile, noticing the small blush that crept onto my mom's cheeks I couldn't help the chuckle that left my lips.
"Well, I knew you'd be bowing down to me sooner or later," my mom joked as she brushed some imaginary lint of her shoulders in an it's-about-time-you-said-that kind of gesture.
"Yep, only a matter of time," I joked back, laughing at my mom's actions as she successfully flipped a pancake. When I was younger and my mom had let me help in the kitchen I had tried flipping pancakes, all of which ended up either on the floor, the ceiling or narrowly missed hitting my mom. I wasn't best known for hand eye co-ordination; although I was a dancer I was terribly clumsy as a child. Hell I still am clumsy to this day, I guess it's something I'll probably never grow out of.
In the moments that followed, after our laughter had ceased, the sizzling of the pan was the only sound that occupied the room. My mom had just poured the last drop of pancake mixture into the pan. To my surprise she had already made seven, but bearing in mind that I kinda spaced out for most of it I shouldn't have been shocked to find that breakfast was almost ready.
"Care to explain why you were thinking about that now?" my mom asked softly, her voice had taken on a curious tone.
"I don't know really," I shrugged my shoulders, because in all honesty I didn't know why I was thinking about that now. Was it because I had seen how Amy was interacting with Santana? As I said before she was shy around new people and the way she had pulled Santana along with her, her smile, excited rambling about the house... amazed me. Or was it the way my mom had welcomed Santana – practically a stranger? I wasn't sure. Maybe I was just realising now that I hadn't actually told my mom how much I appreciated her. "I'm just really grateful for everything you do for me and Amy."
"Aaahhh sweetie, come here!" she turned the stove off, placing the last pancake a-top of the stack before engulfing me in a hug.
I sighed into her embrace and said "I love you, mom." I didn't say those words as often as I should, but I hoped she knew that I did in fact love her.
"I love you too, Brittany."
Just then raucous laughter, hurried breaths and exclamations of winning filled the room. I lifted my head off of my mom's shoulder and smiled in the direction of the two people now in the room.
All three of my favourite people were in one room again. I couldn't stop the joy bursting through my veins as I watched Santana and Amy laughing with one another. They looked like they were getting on like a house on fire and I couldn't have been happier in that moment.
Santana's POV:
"Ha-ha, loser, loser!" Amy exclaimed, shifting her fingers into an L shape pointing at me, as we reached our destination – the kitchen.
The aromas that I could smell in Amy's bedroom drifting from the room we were currently in were pretty damn good. I was never really a big breakfast person, well unless my mom made me her famous muffins then I wholly enjoyed breaky. But I was sure looking forward to eating the food Brittany had prepared.
"You sure are one fast little kid," I said between heaving large amounts of air into my lungs. I wasn't really as in shape as I thought I was. I used to be able to cope with vigorous exercise routines but that had been in high school, which was quite a few years ago now. I made a mental note that I would not lose to a five year old in a twenty second race, ever ever again.
I had been a little apprehensive at the notion of being alone with Amy. Although she had seemed determined and excited to show me around, judging by her tugging my hand and launching into epic detail about her stuffed animals, how happy she was (she said Brittany was the best mom) and showing me every room. I couldn't help but worry about what I was going to say to her. She was a child and I hadn't been around enough little people to grasp any sense of what to say to them, how to interact with them and how to come off as a relatively stable individual. But Amy was unlike any kid I had ever encountered. She seemed real mature, a lot older than her actual age and she had so many positive attributes. Amy was a credit to her mom. I was sure that the supportive family Amy had behind her were a hundred percent responsible of the way Amy was. I knew that I wouldn't have been able to raise a kid, hell I could barely look after myself, so I was in awe of Brittany and her mom.
Albeit hesitant at first I thought I hadn't totally messed up on making a good impression on Brittany's daughter. I had immensely enjoyed listening to the little girl ramble on and I even got a few words in as well. Added to that, I got to act like a kid again and as loathed as I was to admitting I was no longer that same girl who used to love running around like a lunatic with other kids, I couldn't deny that girl was still a part of me.
Looking at the young blonde, a massive smile on my face, I took note of how alike her and her mom looked. Same colour hair, the colour of golden sand in tropical destinations. Similar eyes – shades of blue, the colour of gems and summer skies – the youngest blonde with an innocent glint in her orbs, whereas the elder blonde's eyes showed she had dealt with situations that weren't meant for people of her age. Cheeky smiles were a common occurrence on both of their faces, along with the ability to make your heart warm with a genuine flashing smile from the kid and butterflies in the stomach with a simple beaming smile from the mother. They were both equally beautiful. I was sure that the youngest blonde would break a few boys (and/or girls?) hearts in the future if she turned out like her mother, then hell her generation better watch out.
Shifting my gaze from Amy who was now animatedly telling Mama Pierce (is that what Amy called her gran?) about the race she had so easily won, my eyes landed on Brittany who was smiling at her daughter. Standing there watching the woman whom I had become great friends with, her daughter who had taken quite a shine to me and the person who had welcomed me without a shadow of doubt. I was beyond glad that I had met Brittany in that park. I couldn't imagine not having her in my life. Admiring Brittany who was now pouring a glass of orange juice for Amy, I couldn't help the almost dreamy look I had on my face.
I was happy. The happiest I had been in a long time and I knew that was down to Brittany. Her bubbly personality, witty remarks and caring nature only made her more beautiful in my opinion. Yes! You think she's pretty! Are you gonna make your move soon, coz it's obvious to everyone that you guys like each other. I've only known her for six weeks; wouldn't she be freaked out if I did something like that? Anyway just because I think she's gorgeous doesn't mean I want to date her. Damn woman, you almost admitted you liked her but you backtracked, why do you always do that? I really don't have to explain myself to you. No you don't but denying something you feel is not going to get you anywhere and you know it. One word of advice, listen to your heart. I swear my internal voice had an array of different personalities, one minute it sounds like some sort of hoodie wearing teenager, then it sounds super sappy and poetic. It's like its two different people.
One thing – do I even have a heart? Of course you do, its hidden most of the time but has seemed to make numerous appearances since a certain blonde has emerged into your life. Why do you always relate everything back to Brittany? Because you think about her a lot. Well she is my friend. Friend. Friends? Is that really all you want to be? Yes. Because you have already met her mom and daughter so you don't have to be scared about the whole 'meet the family' thing. That's one plus, but you haven't been given the talk yet. What talk? Y'know the whole 'what-are-your-intentions-with-my-daughter' kind of talk. Yeah, that's because Brittany and I aren't dating. Exactly. But when you do grow some lady balls and ask Brittany out on a date you'll get 'the talk'. And let me tell you Mama Pierce seems like she could be one scary woman if you get on her bad side. Thanks for that, I'm just about to have breakfast with said woman and now you're making me think she's gonna be staring daggers at me or something. Oh gosh you are a little dramatic this morning, aren't you? Can you just leave me alone for a while, at least for an hour or two. I will, on one condition. What? By the end of the day you need to think about what you feel towards Brittany and admit that you want something more than being just friends with her. If it shuts you up then I will think about what Brittany makes me feel, but I can assure you that I have no romantic inclination towards her, whatsoever. I guess that's good enough but prepare to be proved wrong, dearie.
As Brittany looked at me with an amused yet puzzled look I smiled sheepishly and mouthed a small 'hey'. I felt my cheeks warm up considerably at her piercing gaze. We seemed to have a silent conversation between each other in which I was sure she thought I was creepy for staring at her, like that - like she was the only person in the world. If she did she didn't voice her concerns of me being a total weirdo. Coz, I mean who stares at their friend with – what I presumed was – a ridiculous dorky smile on their face? That's really not normal, right? I'm thinking that you've all said 'hell no'.
Nothing seemed to exist in the moments that our eyes were locked. Amy's giggles, Mrs Pierce's (I felt I didn't have the right to call her 'Mama Pierce' yet) stealing glances at the two of us, smirk firmly in place and the sizzling of the now cooling down pan – they were all just in the background. It made me feel super scared in a way, staring into blue orbs not being able to disconnect eye contact, too enamoured by her to be able to reassemble a grown up. Instead appearing as if I was some teenager boy who was in the throes of puberty.
"Britt, Santana?" a voice filtered through my mess of thoughts and feelings. Turning towards the sound, unfortunately breaking mine and Brittany's little staring contest, I found that the owner of the voice was Mrs Pierce. I didn't miss the grin that she directed my way as a light blush covered my face, nor did I miss the amused laughter that followed.
"Yeah," Brittany and I said in unison causing a burst of giggles from the youngest member of the Pierce clan.
"You said the exact same thing at the same time!" Amy exclaimed, before Brittany and I had the chance to hear what Mrs Pierce was going to say. That was another thing about children, they were so innocent to the world around them that they found happiness and humour in things that seemed neither here nor there to adults.
Trying to avoid eye contact with the occupants of the room, either too embarrassed to look into those baby blues, not wanting to see the odd smirk that I figured was on Mrs Pierce's face or the puzzled but amused face Amy was sporting, my eyes flicked round the room.
Although the Kitchen was small it didn't give off a cramped feeling. In fact it felt more cosy and warm, I wasn't sure whether that was due to Brittany's decoration or just her personality that seemed to ooze out of her possessions and house (my little tour guide had shown me Brittany's collection of soft toys that she had kept from her childhood, along with a photo of her as a kid. Both made me think Brittany was adorable). A small table with two chairs sat against one wall, the light colour of the walls emphasising the cheery nature of Brittany and Amy and the simple wooden floor gave of the impression that it had been designed with cost in mind and yet at the same time showing the happiness with what the Pierce family had. It felt like a home. In stark contrast to my kitchen in my lonely flat which was modern but lacking that personal touch that Brittany's had.
We were the same age, had been through difficult times and yet Brittany seemed to be a hell of a lot stronger and happier than I was. She had a kid at twenty, her dad passed away as she was on the verge of becoming a young adult, she provided for her daughter by working a horrendous amount of hours and she kept a brave face on throughout it all. I realised that I was nowhere near as good of a person as she was. I wasn't content with my life, I wasn't happy and I wasn't surrounded by my family. I was lonely. Correction I had been lonely, ever since Brittany had walked into my life not so long ago, the small amounts of time we spent together – our coffee 'date', me turning up at the bar, emotional talks and comforting hugs – I felt happy.
Brittany filled that missing gap in my life. She filled my heart with warmth and utter happiness. Oh fuck, now that sounds really sappy and shit, doesn't it? I really wasn't the 'emotional' type after all. You lovesick fool! I thought we'd made a deal? Yeah, but you gave me the perfect opportunity to tease you and I really couldn't pass up that chance. So does that mean our deal is off? No, you promised. But- No buts. You're actually making progress, y'know. How? You just said it. Just tell me I don't have all day. Brittany makes you happy. Oh... Yeah, and isn't that what everybody wants - to be happy? Well I'd never have thought that my internal voice would be right on some occasions but on this occasion it was a hundred percent correct.
Too consumed in my thoughts I hadn't realised that a plate of delicious looking pancakes was being handed to me. Chocolate chips could be seen along with some chocolate sauce on the side of two pancakes stacked on top of each other. Suddenly my stomach grumbled. Loudly.
"Someone's hungry," Brittany commented with a small grin. By the looks of it she had finished cutting up Amy's pancakes into small bits. The little blonde was sitting on one of the two chairs opposite her 'Mama Pierce'.
"Um, yeah," was my oh-so intelligent response. I had no doubt that I was turning as red as a tomato. I figured that it was mission in life to embarrass myself as much as I could and if it was I was doing a damn well good job of it. I had never lost the ability to form coherent sentences around people before and yet here I was acting like a complete buffoon. I guessed Brittany was the exception. I felt all mushy around her it was unreal. "Thanks. These pancakes look and smell amazing!" I said trying to pull myself together and act like a normal human being.
"They taste real good mom!" Amy exclaimed, everyone looked towards the little girl who had chocolate sauce round her mouth and an empty plate.
I laughed and so did Mrs Pierce at the chocolate covered girl, but by the scowl on Brittany's face she didn't seem to be pleased. I hadn't seen 'Angry' Brittany before but I was guessing that was about to change.
"Amy! Where are your manners?" Brittany scolded gently; dropping down to the girl's level so she could be looking into her eyes.
"Sorry mom, I know I should have waited for you guys but I was really hungry, not as hungry as Santana because her stomach was growling," at Amy's words three sets of eyes were on me making the heat rise to my cheeks "-but super hungry. Plus you always make the best pancakes," Amy beamed a charming smile at her mom (I was sure if she directed that smile at me I would cave every time).
"Yeah you make the best pancakes Britt-Britt," Mrs Pierce backed Amy up; albeit it with a wink at her daughter as if they were sharing a private joke or secret nobody knew.
I still hadn't tried the supposedly infamous pancakes so as Amy and Mrs Pierce looked at me in anticipation I scooped some of the chocolate chip pancake into my mouth. "Holy shit!" I almost moaned, forgetting that little ears were present "These are seriously the best pancakes Brittany!" I made quick work of rest, making moans of approval not noticing the glare I was receiving from Brittany, the amused smirk from Mrs Pierce and a shocked looking Amy.
"Mom," Amy tugged on Brittany's arm, before asking with all seriousness "Santana said a bad word, does she have to sit on the naughty step?"
Finally being brought out of my semi-induced pancake haze, my eyes widening as realisation of what I had said in front of a child dawned on me. With Brittany glaring at disapprovingly I couldn't help but think I was in deep trouble. So with that in mind the words that left my mouth next seemed appropriate.
"Oops."
Brittany's POV:
Slightly embarrassed by my daughters sudden lack of manners (I really hoped this wasn't because of Santana being here, maybe Amy hadn't warmed to her as quick as I had) all the while knowing that I shouldn't let Santana get away with cursing in front of a five year old, I couldn't help the glare that was fixated on the brunette, although I tried increasingly hard not to let an amused smirk appear as result of both of their actions.
And hell actually looking at Santana was not doing any favours to my concentration. Instead of focusing on the situation at hand my mind was drifting to a lot of really inappropriate places. Like why were her boobs literally staring at me? Why couldn't I tear my eyes away from her? And ... Am I really looking at her like that when my mom and daughter are in the same room? Yes, you are most definitely checking Santana out in front of an audience. I don't think you can define two people as an audience. Is that really what's important right now? If I were you – Which you are (I couldn't help chiming in, was I insane for talking to my internal voice this much? I thought I was anyway, I was just glad that I was the only one who could hear the confusing, way off comments of the voice) Just don't start drooling, coz that will make it even more obvious that you're 'admiring' Santana. You're an ass. I know you love me really, I imagined that the damn voice would have been sporting a smirk.
"The naughty step doesn't apply to adults Amy," I finally managed to speak, smiling at the confused look on her face at my words.
"Is she banned from watching TV?" Amy asked after a few moments of thought, shaking my head and loving the innocence that came with kid's questions I waited for the barrel load of questions that were sure to follow. "No sweets for a week?" shaking my head again, "Has to wash the dishes?" another shake of my head, "Okay... Does she have to give you a big hug to show you how sorry she is?"
I had to admit that sounded like a great idea. I mean I was a hugging person after all and being that close to Santana was just an added benefit. Her hugs made butterflies go crazy in my stomach and as much as that scared me I couldn't deny any longer that I didn't like the feeling. Nobody had managed in making me feel so many things at once in a long time and it felt nice. Nice that we had formed such a strong friendship so fast, amazing that my mom seemed to love Santana already (even if she would no doubt end up teasing her constantly) and great that Amy seemed to have taken a shine to the brunette. But what did all of that mean?
You like her.
All of those feelings, were they romantic feelings?
"I think Amy's right, a hug is the solution," my mom's voice startled me, breaking me out of my thoughts, a smirk on her face (almost as if she knew what I was thinking – what I had maybe realised).
All I knew was that if my mom kept smirking, Amy kept asking completely innocent but awkward questions and if Santana made those pancake-moans again (she sounded like she was having sex or something) I was sure my head was going to explode.
I was doomed.
Mama Pierce POV:
If I hadn't thought before that there was some chemistry between my daughter and Santana it was blatantly obvious now. What with both of them seeming to be deep in thought, staring at each other and quickly looking away once the other had noticed – there was definitely something there. If only they could stop thinking for a moment, open their eyes and just see, throw caution to the wind and see where that takes them.
More than anything I wanted Brittany to be happy and I knew that, seeing their interactions, she was happy and that had a great deal to do with Santana – the brunette who was now looking more than a little red in the face. I couldn't keep the smirk from appearing on my face, they were acting like teenagers and it was hilarious. I hadn't seen Brittany like this for a long time, she seemed to be almost carefree around Santana and that filled my heart with joy. Brittany had been so strong for so long and I had an incline that she wouldn't have to be as strong with Santana around.
Knowing Brittany like the back of my hand I knew she had just figured something out and she was scared, she didn't want to believe it. But I didn't want her to miss a chance at something that could be potentially amazing – life-changing even – because she didn't like or understand what she was feeling.
"Amy why don't we get you cleaned up," I said, hoping to give Brittany and Santana some time to talk. However, judging by the scowl on Amy's face she wasn't having any of it.
"But mom didn't answer my question," Amy stated. All eyes were then on Brittany and she looked like she was about to have a heart attack.
"C'mon no arguments missy," Amy turned to look at me with puppy dog eyes (a winner every time) but this time it wasn't going to sway me "Let's leave your mom and Santana to talk," I said smiling at briefly at said women, pulling Amy from the room, leaving a panicked looking Brittany and slightly confused Santana behind.
"I like Santana," Amy said on the way to the bathroom, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. I nodded, sensing that she had something else to say and she did (my instincts were never wrong!) "But I think mom really likes Santana."
"You sure are observant, Amy," I nodded in agreement. "Now how much bubble bath do you want?" I asked, already expecting the response I would get, a grin already forming on my face.
"You're so silly Mama Pierce!" Amy squealed "You already know the answer, lots and lots and lots!" a chorus of giggles soon followed.
I could see it. Amy could somewhat see it. The only people that couldn't see it were Brittany and Santana. If they didn't realise what was between them soon, I would be forced to help them realise.
Santana's POV:
I didn't know what my body was doing until I was standing inches away from Brittany, my arms coming up to pull her closer to me, my face fitting into the crook of her neck perfectly, whilst she stood stock still, rigid and tense for several uncomfortable minutes. I waited for her to return the embrace, I supposed that she might have been shocked by my abrupt actions but soon realised that she wasn't going to hug me back. I didn't want to move away from her though, her warmth, that scent that was so distinctly Brittany (honey and vanilla). It was almost as if my arms were glued around her waist, my face stuck where her shoulder met her neck.
"I didn't make those pancakes," Brittany suddenly blurted out. I would have smiled, by the randomness of her statement, if I wasn't so hurt that she wasn't hugging me back. I hadn't moved away from her and she hadn't pushed me away but her arms were hanging awkwardly by her side, showing signs that she wasn't about to move them any time soon.
"Who did then?" I asked, my voice slightly muffled from its place in Brittany's neck. I was aware of the shiver that ran through her body as my words gently vibrated against her skin, the goose bumps that were now prominent. At her reaction I couldn't help the upwards tilt of my lips.
"My mom," Brittany sounded embarrassed by her admission, it was cute.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. All of the heat rushed to my face as I realised that I had made a complete fool of myself (yet again). I had made some pretty weird noises whilst scoffing down those pancakes and while that hadn't really bothered me at the time, it did now. Because now I was thinking about it, I couldn't help but notice those embarrassingly loud moans could have been construed differently than simply appreciating some delicious grub.
Mrs Pierce had made those pancakes - not Brittany – and as a result those noises I had made seemed really wrong and really inappropriate.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry Brittany," I didn't realise that by speaking about it I would bring on further embarrassment to myself, so I carried on (later I would be kicking myself for this). Pulling away from her, I buried my head in my hands not wanting to look into blue orbs.
"What are you talking about?" confusion laced her words; I could literally feel the frown that marred her features, the possible amusement that was soon to follow.
"I ate your mom's pancakes and moaned, Brittany! I moaned!" I nearly screamed. Do you see what I mean? I was really good at embarrassing myself, so much so that I couldn't seem to just god damn stop.
At her touch, sending tingles down my spine, I hesitantly lifted my head and looked into ocean blue eyes (Or were they turquoise? Did she wear contact lenses? Coz how could someone's eyes be so big, entrancing, beautiful... focus Lopez, focus.) And then Brittany grinned at me and everything else didn't seem to matter, because seeing the look on her face, directed at me was everything I hadn't dreamed of but secretly wanted.
"I'm surprised my mom didn't tease you."
"So I got away with it then?" I asked hopeful that the situation wouldn't be brought up again or possibly used against me. I had to admit I was a little frightened of the elder woman, she seemed super nice and all but there was something in her eyes that told me she was watching me. Maybe she was just making sure I wasn't going to hurt her daughter, I wasn't sure.
Brittany shook her head, smirking "Oh no, you most definitely haven't."
"Great, just great," I replied sarcastically "I think I should leave now before your mom comes back," I joked, although I was seriously contemplating doing exactly that. Unfortunately Brittany didn't get my attempt at humour, a sad almost cold look replacing her previous happy features.
"Bye," Brittany's voice was clipped, devoid of emotion. She yanked her hand away from me and walked towards the sink, turning on the taps and started to wash the dishes. By the way she was scrubbing a plate I knew she was angry, but why?
After an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being running water and plates clinking against another (I wouldn't have been surprised if any of the dishes were in one piece). I decided to rectify whatever had just happened; although I thought Brittany was being a little dramatic I figured that something else must have been bothering her. So I walked behind her and carefully wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head on her shoulder (I was on my tiptoes).
"What are you still doing here Santana?" Brittany questioned, trying to wriggle out of my grip – unsuccessfully I might add.
"I was just joking Brittany. I've really enjoyed meeting Amy and your mom, although it was slightly unexpected," I released a small chuckle and Brittany finally relaxed in my embrace "You don't have a clue how much I love spending time with you. You are one of a kind Brittany." I told her softly.
"Do you hate me?" Brittany's question came out of nowhere. Was she freaking serious right now! I mean how could anyone hate Brittany. "I didn't hug you back and then I was rude. I'm sure you hate me."
A rush of adrenaline coursed through me, where it came from I didn't know, but I found myself turning Brittany around so she was facing me. Our faces were inches apart, blue eyes boring into my own – startled. My hands were on either side of Brittany effectively trapping her, leaving her no room to escape. I couldn't have her thinking that I hated her, I just couldn't, it hurt too much.
It was probably the wrong place, wrong time for what I did next. But every smile Brittany had thrown my way, our talks about a load of serious really emotional stuff, the happiness that filled my life when she had appeared – all of it, the past two months played through my mind. I wasn't sure what would happen but I had to take that chance.
"I don't hate you," I said, my voice just a whisper, before closing the gap and pressing my lips to hers.
Finally! My internal voice always had to have the last word, didn't it?
A/N: I know it's been too long. I'm amazed by all of your lovely reviews last chapter, thank you so much!
Thoughts?
