Author's Note;; and after nearly a month... -cower- I'm really sorry everyone! I worked on a Brittany/Quinn story and was staring rather uselessly at 4 prompts for Puck/Brittany, Finn/Brittany, Finn/Santana and Mike/Brittany. I've to write two of them as an exchange with my beta, and I don't know which ones to write. WEIRD HET COUPLES OMG -stabstab-. ALSO, DEAR READERS, WHO STILL HAD A FUNCTIONING BRAIN AFTER THE LATEST GLEE EPISODE? because I really have to shake your hand. Mine basically exploded.

Okay. Next chapter would probably include the 'glee reunion'- Depending on whether or not Santana manages to get into Brittany's pants, heh heh. Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing (as well as to those who sent me reviews and messages asking when I was going to update/if this story was still going on)- and to my lovely beta LeftiesAreHOT. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Personalized messages at the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy!

"Have you ever thought that maybe I'll be giving me to you? You won't be taking anything, Britt. There's a difference between my giving freely, and you taking."

"Maybe I'm not ready to give! Why can't you understand? I can't. I want to. But I can't."

That had hurt, far more than Santana expected it to.

No, actually, scrap that. She hadn't thought Brittany would ever say anything that would hurt her feelings; it was a little disappointing to know that she had been proven wrong. It had been ridiculous, that Santana had had her feelings bruised by what Brittany had said. It was even more ridiculous that she had expected Brittany to turn out to be the one person who ultimately wouldn't make her end up feeling like she'd just been punched in the middle. But really, she took all responsibility for that. Things like trust and feelings had no logical place in summer flings; more fool her for falling prey to wide blue eyes, an innocent facade and infectious laughter. Curses upon herself for having unwanted (unneeded) reactions and feelings whenever the two of them made out, and whenever they spent time together. Which was just about every second of the day.

Was sex really that much to ask from someone who, in all likeliness, wouldn't be around once the summer was over? It was just sex. And okay, so she liked Brittany that little bit (a lot, actually, damn feelings) to stick around even with the whole no sex thing, but Santana hadn't ever been a chastity queen. No, that girl had been Quinn. Santana liked sex; all through high school she had been busy getting her mack on. Then she graduated and a couple of years later, became of legal age to actually saunter into bars and pick people up if no one in any of her university classes had been prospective date material. Point is, the Latina had never really been celibate once she passed the age of sixteen. She wasn't used to being so...on edge for a prolonged period of time. It wasn't to say that she didn't like the whole 'getting to know you' bit with Brittany it was just...

What better way to get to know someone than by having sex with them?

Unfortunately for Santana, Brittany didn't seem to share the same sentiment. And, not for the first time, she was left wondering about the blonde's past.

Utterly miserable now, Santana kicked off her shoes and left them strewn on the floor of the living room (her mother would kill her, had she been around) and went to her room, locking the door behind her before flopping face first on the bed. High school had never been this complicated. Ever.

By the sound of the front door opening and closing as well as knuckles being rapped against her bedroom door, Santana could tell that Brittany had found her. Finally. After... An hour, she realized, shaking her wrist and turning the volume of the music up higher. It wasn't that she wanted to ignore Brittany- Well, actually, that was a lie. She fully intended to make Brittany grovel.

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This was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous, even.

She'd known Brittany for less than a month- Hell, less than two weeks, even, but she was so freakin' attached already. For all her intent to make Brittany crawl over proverbial broken glass to earn forgiveness for her evasions, Santana hadn't managed to last more than a couple of minutes of Brittany knocking and calling through the wood before she slunk over to quietly slide her down the length of the door. The hollow reverberations of Brittany's knuckles against the barricade hammered into her back, and she dropped her head on her knees, palms itching to reach out and be laid upon the other woman's smooth skin. She wanted so badly to pull open the door and scramble into Brittany's lap and stay there for hours, playing with the ends of soft blonde hair idly as the taller girl's nose nuzzled the side of a tanned cheek.

And that scared her. It was all too much, too fast, plus they had a...shared history, of sorts. A shared history that came in the form of Noah Puckerman. That in itself was reason enough for her to shy away, was it not? But, for some random reason that Santana still wasn't totally clear on, Brittany had chosen to meander away from the most straightforward path available and basically forge her own way through a tangled web of deceit and lies- No, she corrected herself with a mental sigh, evasions, not lies.

"Santana, please."

A funny little spasm shot through where Santana imagined her heart was at the plea, which was probably the only reason why the door hadn't been flung open. Too much, too fast, the girl repeated to herself, burrowing her face between her knees while exhaling noisily. Falling in love was not a part of her plan- Not that she had a strict life plan, but you know-, and potentially falling in love with someone she just met? Wasn't part of anyone's plan, not unless they were ten and believed in fairy tales. Santana was twenty four, of an age where reality had long since crashed down on her head. There were no fairy tales. Happily ever afters? Pft, please.

Hence why the way she felt with Brittany terrified the crap out of her and made her feel so secure at the same time- Which in turn terrified her again. What a lousy vicious cycle.

"Noah always mentions you, you know. He loves you, and it's like he's watching over you. Every time we try, I keep hearing him warning me about breaking hearts. I could love you, San – I think I already do, a little bit, and..."

At the last bit, Santana visibly flinched, leaning away from the door as she fought not to scramble under her covers or something equally absurd. Her life since Brittany crashed headlong into it was turning into a regular rom-com, wasn't it? But she straightened up, because Brittany was finally, finally, opening up about Puck. And if she needed a door between them in order to talk, so be it. However, her knuckles tightened and flashed white as she dug her nails into her knees to avoid saying anything. Her vision swum a little, though whether it was due to dredged up memories of Noah or at Brittany's confession of "I could love you" was still a little unclear.

"I saw Puck die, okay? Sometimes I think if I'd just pulled him away, or managed to wrap his neck, or just donesomething, he'd be okay and you'd still have your best friend. But then I think if he were alive, I wouldn't ever meet you and I've just been so happy and I feel so guilty and selfish and -"

Now she did jerk away- Up to her feet before she yanked open the door, causing Brittany to pitch forward slightly at the sudden movement. A few seconds passed before blue eyes rose to meet brown ones, focusing on the bottom lip that Santana had between her teeth. Pulling open the door had been the opposite of what she had wanted to do- It had been a knee-jerk reaction to what Brittany had said. She had wanted to lay into the blonde because it hurt, it wasn't fair. Why Noah? Why not Brittany? It was Brittany's fault- She had even said so. Hadn't she? What had she said, exactly?

...did it matter? Honestly, all Santana wanted to do right now was sweep the blonde up into her arms and just... hug her. It surprised her, because of everything she could want to do, she chose a sappy move? Good god, the people she was in high school with would be so disgusted.

But screw them. Reaching down, Santana wrapped her fingers around one of Brittany's slender wrists and pulled gently, engulfing the taller woman in a full on hug when she stood, relaxing a little when long arms reached around to pull them closer together. As keen as she had been for Brittany to talk to her regarding more serious matters, that last fun fact concerning Puck had thrown her for a (not at all) fun ride and for now, the only thing she really wanted to do was rest her forehead upon Brittany's collarbone and just hide away from the world for a bit. For all her shortcomings, Brittany was safe. When Santana was pressed against Brittany like this, she felt as though the blonde exuded this illusion of security that reached out to include her in it. And she couldn't help but take comfort in it.

With a sigh, the brunette turned her head slightly, bumping her nose against the column of Brittany's throat as she did so. A small smile had her lips curving upwards when she felt the taller woman's pulse hammering from several spots where they were pressed together- Against her cheek, her chest, her tummy. Under her palms, one of which had slid under Brittany's shirt to come to rest against her lower ribcage between both their bodies; craving the skin contact. Or was that her own heartbeat? Santana wasn't really sure and right now, she didn't really care.

Right now, all she wanted to do was remain pressed up against the other girl and breathe in the comforting scent that she had come to know as Brittany. The world and reality could be ignored for a little while longer.

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When, after several minutes had passed with them just standing there with one of Santana's hands wedged between them while her own arms were draped tightly (read: possessively) over the smaller girl's waist, Brittany felt Santana pull her into the room, she was reasonably startled and confused for a moment or so. Then there was that insistent tugging again, as well as fingernails scraping lightly over her abdomen, fingers heading lower till they could curl around the belt-loop of Brittany's shorts. And if Brittany was a boy, all her blood would have rushed down to her groin at the gesture. As it were, she already felt as though Santana could lead her around by the (proverbial) dick and she wouldn't mind at all.

One in the room though, Santana seemed to hesitate, gaze flickering between Brittany and the bed. To solve that problem for her, Brittany hitched Santana up, one arm sweeping under to support the Latina's legs before she dropped them both onto the computer chair, cradling Santana between her arms as though she were a child on her parent's lap. The girl didn't seem to mind, looping her arms around Brittany's neck and burying her face in the soft material of the blonde's top.

More time passed with them staying thus, before Santana managed to speak again, her words mumbled and inaudible. Brittany stroked her thumb in circles over the brunette's collarbone in silent encouragement.

Clearing her throat, Santana repeated, "It wasn't your fault." Though, to both their ears, it sounded unsure and seemed phrased in the form of an uncertain question.

Brittany shook her head. "Feels like it, sometimes."

"Don't blame yourself, Britt." Santana paused, struggling to look for the right words. "Unless it was you who killed him... Don't blame yourself." And it was obvious that she couldn't find the proper words to convey what she was thinking.

Torn between wanting to blurt out a 'no' and being completely amazed that Santana was taking it so well- no sarcasm intended-, Brittany just stared, mouth opening and closing though no words came out. This was all? Santana wasn't going to... To yell and scream, smack Brittany upside the head and blame her for her best friend's demise?

Santana's expression turned wary, suspicious. "What?"

Leaning forward, Brittany hesitated before tentatively kissing Santana on the lips. An approving grumble could be heard when Santana, without breaking the kiss, squirmed and wiggled so that she was straddling the woman on the chair, one leg on each side of her body.

"Thank you for understanding," She managed to mumble before pulling back, "I'm sorry that what I said before hurt you."

When Santana narrowed her eyes, Brittany cringed. Liking someone like Santana was like being on a rollercoaster. One that had a fifty percent chance of breaking down completely while you were still on the ride. At times, Brittany felt like Dumbo the elephant- As though she had just jumped off a flaming building and was hurtling at a frightening speed towards a trampoline that was not likely to be able to take her weight. Except no, she couldn't fly and didn't have an irritating talking mouse as her friend and guide. Sometimes it seemed that Santana would catch her before she landed, but at other times, it was equally likely that she was going to smack flat against the ground. And Brittany was pretty sure that falling in love wasn't supposed to feel like this. She didn't know that Santana felt the same.

This whole 'falling' business was really sketchy.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Santana finally asked.

Her first instinctive reply was to say that no, there was nothing else. But it caught on the tip of her tongue, rendering Brittany silent for a few moments as she thought about it. There was the fact that she saw Puck fairly regularly, but apart from that, there really was nothing. But how could she say it? 'Well, I see your best friend's ghost from time to time, please don't think I'm crazy' yeah, no.

"Nothing," Brittany replied with a shake of her head, sealing her final half-truth with a squeeze to Santana's hips. The Latina seemed sceptical, so Brittany kissed the corner of her mouth firmly, arms tightening around her waist. "I'm sorry."

Some things, Brittany reflected as Santana finally relaxed, sliding her lips reassuringly along the blonde's, were better borne by oneself. It was better for one to carry one's own burdens- Or in this case, ghosts. Brittany may not have been the smartest person ever, but even she knew that informing someone that she could see ghosts (or in this case, a ghost) was a guaranteed one way ticket to the loony bin. And, for all that padded walls were sure to be fun, she really didn't want to be there.

"Okay." Santana smiled sheepishly, nails scraping lightly across the back of Brittany's neck, "Then I guess I should tell you that I knew of you before we met." When one of Brittany's brows rose, Santana grimaced. "Well, I knew of a 'Britt Pierce". When you introduced yourself I thought you said 'Brittany Spears' and it didn't occur to me that you were the same person till... that night. But I was angry so, yeah."

Brittany's thumb rubbed the small of Santana's back absently, her hand having slipped under the shirt without her being conscious of it. "Yeah no, understandable. I'm sorry," She repeated. Then, unable to help herself, she asked: "What did Noah say about me?"

Santana waved the apology off with a shake of her head. "Tell me what he said about me first," She challenged, lips quirking up to a small grin. "Tell me yours I'll tell you mine."

"I thought it was show, not tell?" Brittany countered, trying to remember what it was that Puck had said about his best friend.

"You wanna know about my best friend?" Puck had asked, amused. His large hands dribbled a basketball effortlessly as they playfully faced off during a shared break.

"Yeah, 'cause you keep mentioning her. I'm curious." When the boy lost his focus, she stole the ball out from under him and spun past, leaping up high to dunk the ball through an imaginary hoop. Which basically meant that she aimed it at his head. "Aha, slam dunk! What's the matter Puckerman, can't multitask?"

The man was less than pleased, rubbing the top of his head where the ball had bounced off. "Shut up, Pierce. I was thinking of her back when we were in high school and... If you were me, you'd be distracted too." His hazel eyes glazed over a little before he lewdly hip thrusted. "She's... Unf."

"Okay, gross."

No, that probably wasn't the best memory to share.

"Okay then," Santana was saying with a little smirk on her face, "show me yours and I'll show you mine."

...unf indeed. Perhaps Noah hadn't been too far off the mark.

"Maybe," Brittany conceded, "But you have to ask me out first." Running her lips lightly over Santana's ear, she had to fight against the grin that threatened to spread when Santana shivered. "I'm not that easy."

"What?" Santana complained, "We've been going out like, every day."

"Yeah, but that's me asking you out. I want to know what a date planned by you is like," Brittany explained, blue eyes narrowing upon the shifty look that Santana was exhibiting. "It doesn't have to be fancy- We can stay in. As long as what we do is... you." Then she shut her eyes because, really? Talk about leaving that door wide open. It was going to smack her in the ass- She knew it was.

And Santana noticed, as was evident by the huge grin she was now sporting. "You make it too easy," She teased. "Okay. Tomorrow, we'll...hang out. And I'll show you what I like doing on dates. And then..." She snickered, trailing her pointer finger teasingly down Brittany's nose before laying a small nibble to it. "We'll see."

Brittany's breathing hitched. " 'kay," She managed.

"And next week's the Glee reunion." Brown eyes softening in sympathizing comfort, Santana stroked Brittany's cheek lightly. "I'll be there with you. Don't worry."

"No, no worries," Brittany agreed, nuzzling their faces together.

"Brittany," Santana cradled the blonde's face between her hands, expression turning serious. The ex-soldier was having this weird sense of déjà vu.

"No more lies, okay? You can tell me anything."

All Brittany could do was nod. The Puck thing? Wasn't a lie. It was just something that Santana didn't need to know. Not now, probably not ever. Maybe now that (almost) everything was out in the open, Puck would go away and leave her alone. Maybe.

She could hope.

Continued Author's Note;; I like opinions! (:

ILoveRockandRoll: Heya! Okay, at first I was all O_O "WUT, PSYCHIC!" then I realized that no, you were sort of close but..not. I was on holiday when I thought up this story- No internet + grandparents stories + The Lucky Ones (Film) = GKEAF. I was flailing because I thought you had seen the film and so far I've not encountered anyone who has. You should watch it, it's pretty neat. Plus, it had Rachel McAdams, so it's a thousand bonus points for me. I was basing this (very very very loosely) on what her character did, basically. However, I love Nicholas Sparks! I'm going to find that book and read it because you piqued my interest. Thank you for your recommendation, however unintentional! My favourite book of his is 'The Guardian'. And I loved. LOVED. A Walk To Remember- The film. Oh, and my beta says she wants to kick your butt. Apparently only she is allowed to threaten me.

Scloogue: I tried PMing you but it said you had your PM feature turned off. ): anyway, LeftiesAreHot loves you too. She wanted you to know this. Thank you for your review!

meatisadelicacy: You need to share your ideas as to why you think Puck is being a dick. I am very interested.