Well here it is. Chapter 21. I would have had this up to you all last night but a friend called me right near the end of writing asking if I wanted to go get some food with her. So I went. And then came home at 11:30 and finished. But then I was too tired to deal with the finishing touches before posting. So here it is. And I don't want any complaints because it is the longest chapter yet. Hopefully this chapter clears up some of your questions about the girls' pasts and whatnots. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully you are as well. I also need to thank Creedog VanDrey for your review. I coulnd't prive message you so here s your personal thank you. Everyone else can stop reading this paragraph if you want. I'm glad you gave my story a second chance if you weren't really feeling it the first time. And I'm happy you reviewed (even if you only did so out of guilt). I'm not picky about why people review :) This is a low-drama story, but that's because I'm not a generally angsty person. I am capable of writing angst, I just chose not to for this story. But that's not to say there won't be more drama coming up here soon. Anyway, thanks for the review. See you on Tumblr.
Ok, now on to the important orders of business. The car talked about in this chapter is posted on my Tumblr as we speak. It isn't necessary that you go look at it, but it would make the picture inside your head a little clearer. We're also getting really close to the end. I'm thinking between six and ten more chapters. I hope you all decided to stick with me and continue to read my stuff once this story is over. I haven't completely decided if I will start something new next or actually go finish The Fine Line and It's Not Easy. I'm definitely going to finish It's Not Easy at some point soon. I guess I will shut up now and let you read. The rest of my rambling can be in the end author's note. Have fun reading.
"So what's the plan tonight?" Santana asked as Brittany pulled off the black coat that Santana had once called her own. She didn't mind that the blonde seemed to have taken it for good because it looked better on her anyway. Besides, it would be obsolete in California.
"I thought we could have a relaxing night in if you don't mind. I'm pretty tired from staying up late these past few nights. And I have to get up early again tomorrow so I don't want to go out."
"Of course. I just bought a nice bottle of Chardonnay. How 'bout we do wine and maybe a little conversation. Or we can watch a movie or something."
"Wine sounds great. And I wouldn't object to the talking either. There's still so much I want to know about you!" Santana smiled as she led Brittany into the kitchen. As she poured each of them a rather large glass in Puck's oversized glasses, she took the time to admire Brittany's body again. She was wearing a pair of red leggings and a hot pink shirt that hung down to mid-thing. Around her slim waist was a bulky purple belt that made the whole outfit look rather eighties.
"What are you staring at?" Brittany asked with one eyebrow raised and a toothy grin.
"I'm admiring your outfit choice."
"Is it too much?" Santana handed Brittany the wine glass and placed a soft kiss on the blonde's cheek before pulling away.
"Not at all. Shall we make our way to the living room?" The blonde followed Santana into the room. They both set their glasses on the coffee table while Santana went to make a fire. Luckily Puck had one of those electric fire places because she had no clue how to actually prepare a fire. They didn't teach that kind of stuff in Girl Scouts when she was a kid. And back then girls couldn't be in Boy Scouts even if they were gay. Not that she had any inclination of her tastes at the time. She quit Girl Scouts before she was even old enough to crush on anything except tea parties and baby dolls. Not that she would ever admit to liking that stuff either though.
"Can we play a game?" Brittany asked when Santana sat back down. Each girl pivoted so they were sitting with one leg off the couch and the other tucked under their butts. It allowed them to look at one another while they talked. "Oh! But first we need to make a toast so I can drink this wine!"
"What do you suggest we toast?" Santana reached out, picking up each glass and handing Brittany hers with a shy smile. She was hoping Brittany wouldn't look to her for a toast because she wasn't sure she could refrain from getting all kinds of cheesy.
The blonde scrunched her eyebrows in and squinted while she thought. Santana couldn't help but smile at the way she seemed to be taking this whole toast very seriously, as if it was of dire importance. "To magical moments like kissing on couches and pot induced shenanigans," she said after some time.
A small chuckle fell from Santana's lips, but she meant no harm by it. In fact, she thought that had to be the best toast she had ever heard. "Cheers."
"Cheers," Brittany mumbled as she tapped her glass lightly against Santana's. They drank at the same time, never breaking eye contact. After the first sip Santana set her glass back down. Brittany held tightly to hers. "I feel like a queen or something."
"What? Why?"
"I never drink wine. Puck thinks it's lame. I once had champagne at a wedding, but other than that this is a first."
"Well how do you like it then?"
"It's good. Smoother than beer, but less strong than liquor. It's kinda sweet too."
"I prefer wine to beer. And I try not to sit around by myself taking shots. I don't get drunk every night, but I do like a glass of wine most evenings."
"When you say things like that I start to think that you're not actually real—like you're a pigment of my imagination."
"Figment," Santana corrected with a smile. "And why's that?"
"You're just so different from everyone around here. You drink wine every night and you can't drive stick. That's not what people around here do."
"Well I'm glad I amuse you then. You're pretty different than the people back home too."
"I'm different than everyone. I'm a unicorn."
"A unicorn?"
"Yep. It means I'm magical because I'm different than most people and I stand out, but in a good way. It took me a long time to realize that being different was ok, but I get it now. And I'm proud of my unicorness." Santana felt her heart flutter a little at just how cute Brittany could be. "You're kinda a unicorn too, San."
"Nah-uh. No way," she responded, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.
"Why not?"
"Unicorns are cute and magical. That's not me. If I'm going to be a mythical creature I want to be something more badass."
"Fine. You can be a dragon. But only if you promise to be a nice dragon."
"Dragons aren't nice though."
"They can be. Donkey's wife is."
"Those movies aren't real."
"Neither are dragons," Brittany countered. "I can play this game all night, San. And you know I'm gonna win."
"And why's that?"
"Because you loooove me," she teased, dragging out the syllable is love.
"How about we compromise?" Santana said, ignoring the jibe. "I'm a dragon that has a soft spot for one very special unicorn."
"All unicorns are special."
"Yes, but you're the most special of them all. And Dragon Santana likes Unicorn Brittany very much."
"Dragon Santana looooves Unicorn Brittany." When Santana rolled her eyes and chose not to respond Brittany jutted out her bottom lip and pouted melodramatically. "Say it," she commanded. "Say it or I will walk out right now and never come back."
"You wouldn't do it," Santana mused as she pulled her glass to her lips. "You're having too much fun teasing me mercilessly."
"You're right. But I won't stop teasing until you say it. And I can be very annoying. Just ask Puck."
"I don't want to talk to Puck right now. I'd rather talk to you."
"Come on, Sanny Bananny!" Brittany was now sitting on both knees and bouncing playfully.
"Ugh. What a horrendous nickname."
"Sanny Bananny! Say it or else I'm gonna call you that every day for forever. I'll tell Puck to call you that too. And you know he will never let you live it down."
Santana wanted to resist, but she could see that Brittany wouldn't back down. "Fine! Ugh. You are turning me into such a loser, Britt. But Dragon Santana does love Unicorn Brittany. She loves her more than she can understand because she just met her. And usually Dragon Santana wants to blow fire at new people. But for some reason Unicorn Brittany's magic turned Dragon Santana into a giant softy. There. You happy now?"
"Yes. Yes I am."
Santana rolled her eyes playfully again as she took another long sip of the wine. Brittany had already finished hers so she offered to get her more. Brittany refused and instead slipped her boots off her feet while Santana finished off her glass. "So what's this game you wanted to play?" she asked when her glass was placed firmly and safely back on the coffee table. Now she rearranged herself until she was sitting with her back against the arm of the couch and both legs outstretched in front of her. Luckily Puck's couch was big enough that she wasn't bumping Brittany with her feet.
"Twenty questions. But not like where you think of an object and the person has to get it. It's more like Truth or Dare just without the option of dare. You ask me a question; I answer honestly. And then I ask a question that you have to answer."
"Does my answer have to be honest?"
"Where would be the fun in lying to me? The whole point is to get to know each other better."
"Ok," Santana said skeptically. She usually wouldn't agree to play a game that could potentially involve spilling her guts, but the way Brittany was looking at her made all her fears disappear. She wanted to trust Brittany the way Brittany had trusted her when she talked about Dylan. It was the least Santana could do to repay the blonde. And besides, it's not like Brittany was going to ask the hard questions. "Should I go first?"
"Sure."
"Ummm ok..." Santana said as she thought. "Who was your first celebrity crush?"
Brittany smiled a full-forced grin that made her whole face look younger and so very innocent. "Aaron Carter. He was totally the Justin Bieber of our childhood." Santana laughed and nodded because she had liked him too as a kid. Whether or not she actually liked him romantically or just because she wanted to fit in was unknown. "Bieber is cuter though."
"I agree," Santana responded. "He looks like so many of the women I see in the gay clubs back home." Brittany didn't respond right away. Instead she redirected her thoughts and asked her question.
"What are your parents like?" So much for her not asking the tough ones. Santana shifted, now uncomfortable. She usually avoided talking about these things. Even Quinn only knew what was unavoidable. There were so many things left unsaid.
"Can I pass? Just this once?"
"No. I want to know, San. I want to know all about you."
Shaking her head in disbelief at how easily Brittany was able to worm her way into her life, Santana began thinking back to her childhood. She didn't really know where to begin so she just started and hoped she wouldn't say something wrong or too complicated or confusing because so much of her life was confusing to her.
"My mom is one of those women who will go out on a limb to protect those she loves. She's so sweet, almost to the point of being overbearing. Growing up I was always embarrassed of her because she would join in on conversations with my friends and ask about their lives. But don't mistake her for being soft. She knew how to whip me into shape when it was necessary. She wouldn't take any of my sass growing up. She'd always say, 'Santana Lopez, I get enough of that attitude from your father. If you backtalk me one more time, mija I'm going to wash that mouth of yours out with soap. Ya hear me?'" Brittany laughed at the impression, but urged Santana to continue by not interrupting.
"My dad was a different story. He was a doctor so most the time he was too busy to hang out with me. But as a kid, I loved the times we did share. Sometimes he would take me out to his garage and let me work on cars with him. And if he wasn't working we would go out for ice cream and stuff. But as I got older his expectations for me changed. He wanted me to be something he could show off—a trophy. In a lot of ways I became something my mother could never be because she was half Puerto Rican half African American. Her mixed race traits were too obvious. I, on the other hand, resemble my father in many ways.
"Anyway, as a teenager he encouraged me to work hard to be the best at everything. The pressure of maintaining perfect grades, an active social life, and cheerleading got me into a lot of trouble. It also didn't help that I was ashamed of who I was inside. When I came out senior year, my father couldn't take it. He told me I was a disgrace to his good name and he disowned me. I spent two nights at Quinn's before my mother showed up. We moved into a tiny house in the valley and she worked three jobs to feed me and keep me enrolled at my private school. My dad served her with divorce papers soon after. She got quite a bit of money as alimony, but I insisted that she only use what was necessary on me. I found a job and paid my way through school. I haven't seen my dad since. And my mom still calls weekly and checks in."
"I'm so sorry that happened to you, San," Brittany said when the silence after Santana's story became unbearable.
"Don't be. I'm not. I don't want people in my life that can't see past who I love to who I am."
"But no one deserves a parent to turn their back on them."
"No one deserves a lot of things. The kids in Africa don't deserve to starve. You didn't deserve to lose your brother. The world's fucked up and it makes no sense dwelling on the bad all the time." Brittany didn't say anything so Santana softened her tone. "Hey, Britt. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just...I just don't talk about my dad much. It sets me on edge. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You didn't hurt me, San. I just wish he could see what a wonderful person you are. He's really missing out."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Reaching over, Santana pulled Brittany's feet into her lap. She removed the striped toe socks and began gently kneading the muscles. Brittany sighed and scooted closer, giving the Latina easier access. "It's your turn to ask. And I'll understand if you ask me really personal questions. It's only fair."
"What's the deal with that Artie guy?" Santana asked because it was the question she had wanted to ask since she first saw the yearbooks.
"He was my boyfriend in high school. We got together junior year after I took his virginity to help him get over an ex. I only did it because I was feeling lonely and sad and bored, but when it happened I really liked how in control I was. Usually with guys they were always pushing and rough, but with Artie I could enjoy it. But then he dumped me because he thought I was just using him for a singing competition in Glee Club. But then Puck got us back together. And we dated until the accident. I dumped him soon after."
Santana didn't know what to say about this story. So many details brought up more questions than she could actually ask. At least not right away. "Do you have any siblings?" Brittany asked before Santana could figure out what to say.
"Uh...no. I mean I have cousins back in Puerto Rico on both sides. And I also have some down South on my mom's side. But I never see any of them. Britt," she said, more seriously. "What did you mean by the guys being rough? No one like raped you right?"
"No! No! Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I just mean that I didn't like the way guys felt. I guess it's kinda Puck's fault. When we agreed that he should take my virginity he was really really soft and gentle about it. I guess I thought that all guys would be like that. But they weren't. I slept with a few more guys after that, but then stopped because they were clumsy and rough and never any good. Puck and I had sex a few more times though. He was good at it. And he got better each year. I liked sex with him. Before Artie he was the only guy I had enjoyed it with." Santana remembered all her experiences with high school boys. She knew what Brittany was talking about; the way they did more fumbling than pleasing was irritating and uncomfortable. Plus she had never been a fan of their sporadic thrusts that always did more harm than good.
Now Santana had even more questions, but it wasn't her turn to ask. She hoped Brittany wouldn't distract her and make her forget. "Are you excited to go home?"
"Not at all," the Latina responded. "I don't want to go back to work or deal with the aftermath of Puck living in my apartment. But mostly I don't want to leave you."
Brittany smiled and nodded. Santana patted her foot, indicating that she had finished that one and was ready for the other. As she settled in on the other foot her mind tried to figure out which question to ask. "Do you think you and Artie would have made it long term had the accident never happened?"
"No," Brittany sighed. "I think we probably would have finished out my senior year together, but then I would have gone off to college and it would have ended. I was comfortable with him. And I loved him. But I was never in love with him. Not like..." Brittany didn't need to finish. Santana knew how the sentence ended. Her sentences ended the same way. "How many girls have you been with?"
"Dated or had sex with?" Santana asked, needing clarification.
"Dated."
"Three." The number seemed so small to Santana, but then she remembered that Brittany's count was one, at least as far as she knew. "Do you and Puck still sleep together?" she asked, wanting to know if her biggest fear had a grain of truth.
"We haven't in over a year. And even then that was the first time in over a year. It's not a common occurrence. Who was your first girlfriend?"
Santana scowled, remembering the disaster that was her first relationship. "Her name was Rachel. Rachel Berry. God, even I can't believe I dated her. Basically right around the time I came out she went through this experimentation phase. There weren't many out lesbians at our school so she singled in on me. Basically she followed me around being her typically annoying self until I agreed to give her a chance. I was lonely and desperate so I let her take me out. We went on six dates, made out three times, and never went further before she broke it off claiming that not only was she straight, but in love with one of the biggest dipshits in school. It was the first of many lessons lesbians learn about straight girls."
Santana took a second to think of a new question. "Do you ever wish you had gone to college?" she finally asked. She knew she was skating on thin ice, getting very close to revealing something she wasn't supposed to know, but she had to ask it.
"Sometimes," Brittany admitted with a sigh. "But then I look around and realize that my family needs me. I still go visit them weekly. And Puck needs me too. Going to college back then would have been a bad thing. What about you second girlfriend?" The way Brittany jumped easily from topic to topic was a little starling. Santana couldn't figure out if she liked this game because it kept distracting her from one conversation to another.
"Her name was Gabriella Martinez and she was twice my age. She lived in my new neighborhood after we moved out of my dad's. She had three children from two different men. Both had been abusive alcoholic deadbeats so she had thrown them out. Like my mother, she worked her ass off to keep food on the table for her kids. We started a relationship toward the end of my senior year after the whole Rachel thing. She had been an out lesbian for four years so she showed me the ropes. I learned a lot from her about sex and societal expectations. She also introduced me to many others like me. If it weren't for her I would have struggled a lot more to learn to accept myself. We broke off our fling at the end of summer before I left for college. And then we rekindled it every summer until I was no longer single."
Brittany was the only person that hadn't given Santana the look after hearing the story. It made the Latina all tingly to know that Brittany wasn't judging her. "If you could go back in time and relive just thirty minutes of your life without having the option of changing anything about the time, just living it again, where would you go?"
Brittany's eyes clouded over as she thought. Santana could practically see all the machinery inside her head turning. "The day Dylan died," she finally said. "That morning there had been a pep rally at school. Me and all the other cheerleaders did a big routine for the school to get everyone pumped up for the Sadie Hawkins dance that was coming up. There was this freshman on the JV squad that asked me if she could have the microphone after our routine to ask her crush to the dance. I couldn't say no when she told me that she was crushing on Dylan.
"So anyway, I called him down and he had no idea why I was making him stand in front of the whole school. And then I handed the mic over. She asked him and his face immediately got super red. He was so cute. And so happy. He said yes, of course. And then he gave her a big hug. I was really happy for him too so I just kissed him on the cheek right then and there. He was embarrassed, but happy. The picture ended up in the yearbook. It was the last picture that was ever taken of him. And it was the last time I got to hug him. I would do anything to go back to that day just so I could feel him again. Like I know you said not to change it. But I would just want to relive those last few moments. You know?"
"Yeah, I get it. I couldn't blame you for wanting that moment again. It seems like a really great one." Santana had seen that picture. There was no way that moment hadn't been special.
"It was..." Brittany mumbled, lost somewhere in her memories.
"Hey, we don't have to play anymore if you don't want to. We can watch a movie or something."
"No, no. I want to play." Brittany paused; pulling her legs back in and tucking them up near her chest. She rested her chin in the gap between her knees as she focused in on Santana. "Well I kinda already heard about your third girlfriend so I guess I will just be boring and ask you the same question. If you could relive a half hour of your life what would you choose?"
Santana had never actually thought about the idea of reliving something. Looking back there were many memories of happier times, but none of them seemed to stand out as the best moment. It took her well over a minute to decide, but Brittany waited patiently and studied her face. She liked the way Santana squinted and twirled her hair while her mind raced. When Santana did finally speak her voice startled Brittany out of her prolonged gaze.
"My seventh birthday," Santana begun. "My parents through me a huge party with all the kids in my class. We had jumping castles and slip 'n' slides and even a sprinkler under the trampoline. But that wasn't the best part. Toward the end of my party, after I had opened all my presents from friends and family, my dad pulled me aside and told me his gift for me was in the garage. Now, before this he had never allowed me to set foot in there. He called it his 'man lair' and kids weren't allowed. But for some reason on that birthday he decided I could go in.
"Anyway, he held my hand in his big steady surgeon ones and led me in. I remember being so surprised by all the cars. He had four in various stages of fixing up. On one wall was more tools than I had ever seen. But what impressed me most was the furthest car from us. It was a sleek black 1967 Mustang Super Snake in mint condition. Of course, he had to tell me the model and make. But basically it was his most prized possession. I looked at it and just felt in complete awe. Never had I seen such a beautiful car. And here my dad owned one that he kept hidden away. It was mind-boggling.
"But anyway, I asked him why he never drove it and he told me that cars that beautiful were only to be used during super special occasions. Naturally I then asked him why he was showing it to me then. I never expected that his answer would be because it was a super special occasion. But it was. And not only did he take me out for a drive in it, but he let me sit on his lap and steer. He trusted me, his seven year old daughter, with his most important toy. And I just remember sitting in his lap holding the steering will as we drove up the coast. I had never felt so important or so loved. I guess I'd want to be behind that wheel again if I got the chance to relive something."
"He never let you drive it again?"
"Technically it's not your turn," Santana teased. "But I'll answer anyway because I kinda like you. Don't tell anyone though. I'll lose my street cred. Nah, but he never even drove it again. At least not anytime I was around. Once a couple years ago I was on my way home from a party and I saw a car identical to it. I can't be one hundred percent sure it was him though. I only caught a glimpse of the driver and it really could have been anyone."
"You can ask me two questions if you want," Brittany said suddenly. "Or you could keep talking. I like watching you talk. I like your lips."
"You know...there are other things I could do with my lips..."
Brittany's face erupted in a crimson blush that spread all the way to her ears. It made Santana laugh in spite of it being a mood kill. "God, Britt. You don't even know how cute you are, do you?"
"Is that your question?"
"Do you want it to be?"
"That was two questions. To answer the second one, I don't care what you ask. I already said that before we played. And about being cute, I don't know what makes me cute at all. I'm just me. And if you find that cute then I'm happy because I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. You remind me of Jasmine from Aladdin but you're even prettier. And you also are really funny and nice. And you don't care that sometimes I get my words mixed up. Am I talking too much? Sometimes I do this when I get nervous."
"You could never talk too much," Santana admitted. "I like listening to you."
"I think it's your turn again."
Santana leaned back over the edge of the couch in order to stretch her back. It cracked a couple times and she sighed immediately. "Would you by any chance be willing to move this conversation into the bedroom? I promise I won't jump your bones. Unless you want your bones jumped, of course."
Brittany didn't need to give a verbal answer. She was already tugging Santana up by her arms and dragging her to the bedroom. As soon as they had made it in Brittany leaped into the bed, literally making herself comfortable across the middle of it. "Come lay with me, San," she commanded when she realized the Latina was still perched in the doorway.
Santana shuffled over and plopped down on her back close to Brittany. Immediately the blonde tucked herself in closer, pulling Santana in and placing her head on Santana's chest. Her arm laced around the Latina's waist. In response, Santana pulled Brittany in closer by squeezing her tight around her back. "My turn, right?" Brittany asked softly.
"Yeah."
"How many sexual partners have you had?"
Santana did the math in her head and wondered if she should lie. Deciding that she was already withholding too much information from the blonde, she told the whole truth. "Eight girls. Gabrielle, Amanda, three short-term fling type relationships in college, and three one-night stands also in college. Do you want to know guys too?" The blonde nodded her head against Santana's chest. The Latina immediately started running her fingers through the blonde hair. It was just so soft. "Twelve. All of them were sex in hopes of getting on top the social hierarchy in high school. I knew that having sex was the best way to give myself a reputation so I threw it around like it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing. It always left me feeling like shit."
"Are you gonna ask a question?" Brittany asked when Santana took too long to raise her voice again.
"Yeah. Uh...same question."
"Five in high school and three after. So eight. But I've kissed like over one hundred."
"I bet that is why you are such a good kisser," Santana mused.
"You're a good kisser too," Brittany said, sitting up so she could look at the Latina. "You're the best kisser."
"Are you serious?" Santana asked in disbelief.
"Yep. I liked kissing you more than anyone else. You made me feel all warm and gooey. It was like the inside of a fresh baked cookie. I totally could kiss you every day for the rest of my life if you would be ok with it. I'd kiss you until we both dehydrate and die."
"Well that was a little morbid, but cool I guess. Is it my turn to ask a question?"
"I don't know," Brittany responded. "You can ask though."
Santana smiled up at the blonde before leaning up onto her elbows. "Will you kiss me, Britta-" Santana didn't have time to finish the question. The blonde was already pinning her back down to the sheets with her mouth. Santana moaned into the kiss because it was so sudden and wonderful. It felt like her insides were melting away like butter on hot pancakes. Brittany leaned closer in response, fitting her body in on top of Santana's.
The girls made out for just as long as the night before, but this time there kisses were more frantic and needy. Santana found herself nibbling on the skin around Brittany's neck and sucking hard anywhere her lips could find purchase. Brittany ran her hands freely up and down Santana's body over her clothes. She squeezed and kneaded the Latina's breasts over the fabric and wondered what it would be like to have nothing separating them. But then she remembered that she wouldn't really know what to do so she behaved herself and let Santana lead.
For Santana this was all new. Sure she had been with girls, but never like this. She hadn't ever felt so strongly for someone. So even though she wanted so badly to touch Brittany down there she refrained from pushing past some heavy petting. She wanted to make sure the blonde was ready before doing that. Plus kissing Brittany was enough to make her drunk on love anyway. She decided that she would gladly kiss until dehydration too. Brittany was just that good.
When the girls had finally wore themselves out, Santana reached over Brittany and turned out the lights. "Last question, would you like to sleep over?"
"I'd love to," Brittany answered as she yawned. "But I have work again tomorrow morning."
"That's fine. I'll set an alarm." And Santana did. It didn't take long for the girls to fall asleep with Santana spooning Brittany from behind. It was comfortable and warm so Santana drifted off without a worry in the world.
Okee Dokee, I'm back to bother you some more. No, not really. As always, I'd love to hear your feedback on this chapter because I love feedback, but it's by no means necessary. That being said, I have some questions for you in regards to the next couple chapters. First, would you like to see Puck and Quinn together one more time before Puck goes home? Also, in regards to smut, I don't write it. I never have and I'm somewhat nervous about doing it. Would you guys prefer I write to the point where I feel comfortable and make it fan-freaking-tastic OR try my hand at smut and run the risk of it being cheesy and awkward and definitely not sexy? I guess I may have just given you a spoiler here. But oh well. You all knew it would happen eventually. Feedback on those questions would be awesome. Anyway, goodbye readers. Until next time :)