"How 'bout this?"

"No."

"This?"

"No."

"Okay, what about this then?"

"Oh, that looks super nice," Santana leaned closer to the screen to get a better look at the photo. She liked the colors, the furniture... and the restaurant got 4.5 out of 5 stars, so it was a sure guarantee the food is good. But then she moved her eyes towards the top of the page and saw the three dollar signs on the monitor. "But no," she sighed.

Quinn threw her hands up exasperatedly and got up from her seat. "You know what? You Google. I'm gonna get myself a lemonade and escape your indecisiveness for a little while in the kitchen."

Santana didn't even wait until Quinn was out of the room to take over the swivel chair. They had been looking at nice, slightly fancy restaurants online for almost 2 hours now because Santana really didn't want to waste the opportunity to take Brittany out to a real date. But so far, everything they found were either too close to home, or too expensive.

She read the rest of the page and started thinking that maybe she shouldn't worry about the food so much if she couldn't afford it, which meant she needed another plan than dinner and a movie.

Santana rolled her eyes. This is Lima, she thought. There's nothing much here.

Desperate, her fingers started typing words into the search bar on her screen.

"First date ideas." Click. Search.

"I don't get why you're so stressed out about this," Quinn appeared out of nowhere and spoke right next to her ear.

"God!" Santana put one hand over her heart. "Quinn! Don't scare me like that!"

Quinn took a bite off her cookie and sat next to her friend who declined said cookie. "You're thinking too much."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I want it to be perfect. Sue me."

Quinn pursed her lips because it was too hard to not make fun of this rare version of Santana. The only time she had ever seen her was when Santana wanted to surprise Will and Emma for their 5th anniversary, and that was 3 years ago. Quinn kept telling her that it was a sweet gesture, and Santana kept denying the accusation.

Santana Lopez didn't do sweet.

Only, of course, she did.

Sometime between swallowing her cookie and sipping her lemonade, Quinn made a whipping sound. It earned her a death glare from Santana and she returned it with a teasing shoulder nudge. "I'm just saying, maybe Google can't provide you with anything because deep down, you already know what you want or going to do. The reason why you're not seeing anything is because you don't want them to tell you what to do."

Santana kept her eyes on the screen and considered her friend's suggestion. Maybe Quinn was right. Maybe she didn't have to look so much because, really, all of these ideas she was reading online was boring. Most of them are for grownups anyway; wine tours and what not.

"If you were taking Puck on a date, what would you do?" Santana turned around in her swivel chair.

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows. "Um, first of all, I won't be taking him on a date. He can take me on a date. But," Quinn raised both her hands up once she saw the look on Santana's face. "For the sake of argument, I'd take him somewhere that lets him show off his skills."

"Wanky."

"Not like that," Quinn rolled her eyes. "I mean I want him to feel good."

"Still wanky. Ow!" Santana rubbed a part of her shoulder that Quinn just smacked.

"Do you want my opinion or not?!"

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! Jeez."

Quinn squinted her eyes at Santana before she continued. "I'd take him to a place that lets him do something that is different enough than his favorite activity– which is football– but still similar enough that he'd have fun during our date."

"Sounds complicated."

"Not really," Quinn shrugged. "I just want him to be happy."

Santana turned her head to face her blonde friend and smirked.

"What?" asked Quinn.

"Nothing," Santana shook her head– and then made a whipping sound, not unlike the one that Quinn had made for her earlier.

Meanwhile, across town, Nancy and Brittany were having a mother-daughter quality time. Brittany got a call from her stepmom and she agreed to do lunch since Santana had a 'thing' with Quinn that afternoon and she wouldn't let her come along no matter how hard she pouted. She didn't relent until Santana gave her a kiss and an 'I love you' whispered into her ears.

"So. You must be excited, right?" Nancy asked as she grabbed a glass of water.

Brittany looked up from her pasta. "About what?"

"Tomorrow, of course. Aren't you excited about it?"

"Oh," Brittany pursed her lips and blushed.

Emma had asked both her and Santana to tell Nancy about their progression before the adult Schuesters leave for their getaway, so they did. It was done during dessert at a family dinner that Emma hosted the night before she and Will left. Just as they suspected, her reaction had been great. In fact, the first thing she did was opening her arms so that both girls would come to her for a hug. Then she proceeded to give them a speech about how love wasn't something to take for granted and whatnot.

Of course, she cut her speech short because in the middle of all that, she realized that it was her that needed to learn from them, and not the otherwise.

"Yeah, I am," Brittany answered, tilting her head left and right to cover her real excitement.

"Any plans at all?"

"Um," Brittany shifted in her seat, not really sure if she wanted to share with her stepmom. "Not sure yet," she offered, but when she detected defeat in Nancy's 'oh', she decided to tell the woman more. "We talked about having dinner and probably a movie afterwards, but she just texted me saying that she wanted the whole thing to be a surprise, so I really don't know."

Nancy smiled at this. "I'm sure she'll come up with something nice, honey."

"Yeah, me too," Brittany smiled back.

"Isn't this great? Now that it's the summer, the two of you will have more time together. So even if this one didn't go as lovely as you wanted it to be, you can bet on a lot more dates in the future," Nancy reminded her. "At least until the new school year starts."

"Why is that? I mean, we'll still be together anyway," Brittany spoke hurriedly that she almost choked on her water.

"College," Nancy clasped her hands on the table. "I know it's still a year away or so, but it's something she needs to think about. It's basically her last year to do whatever she can to get into the top universities. She's a very smart girl, so she should be going to one. Can't let that mind go to waste, right?"

Brittany blinked. "Right," she answered tentatively.

"Which, by the way, made me realize that we need to put you back to school," Nancy wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm not sure how we're doing this yet, but I just want you to know that it's my duty as a mom to give you the education that you need, be it homeschool or regular school."

"Can I go to Santana's school?"

"Of course you can, honey," Nancy nodded. "But you have to remember that you won't be in the same grade as her. You're going to be 1 year behind because you never got to finish the school year."

Brittany nodded in defeat and pushed her plate away with a finger. She just realized now that by the time Santana graduated, she wouldn't be up there on the stage with her. And the worst thing of all, was that it was a selfish thought.

Suddenly she wasn't so hungry anymore.

oOoOo

The first thing that Brittany did that Saturday after she woke up was giving Santana a featherlight kiss on her forehead. The second thing that she did was brushing her teeth. The third was making Santana pancakes and the fourth was giving Santana another kiss (on the lips this time) because the darker girl basically saved her from burning the house to the ground. The fifth was writing, in huge block letter, "DON'T FORGET TO TURN OFF THE STOVE" on a piece of paper which she stuck on the refrigerator.

They ate the pancakes in silence on the dining table, sitting across from each other, occasionally looking at each other and giggling in between slices.

When she thought Santana wasn't looking, Brittany watched her. She watched her hair, how soft it would move when Santana tucked some strands away from her face and how the darkness just made her want to softly run her fingers through it. She watched her wrists and how tiny they were compared to her own, and yet she couldn't imagine being there without the help of Santana's strength.

Her eyes traveled upwards and when they got there, she found brown eyes looking straight into her blues. For a split second she thought she was going to look away, embarrassed for being caught. But those eyes, she loved looking into them more than anything else. She just couldn't ignore them.

"You were staring," Santana stated almost in a whisper as she smiled softly.

"I know," Brittany smiled back and replied with the same quietness. "I'm letting myself fall deeper."

Santana chuckled. "Wow," she said. "If it didn't come from you and if I wasn't so ridiculously happy right now, I'd roll that sentence down a cliff and leave."

"Lucky for me you love me then," Brittany wiggled her eyebrows.

"No," Santana stood up, picked up both their plates and sauntered into the kitchen. "Lucky for me you love me."

They spent the rest of the morning lounging around the house. Brushing hands against each other's as much as they could with the intention of just that; touching each other. At one point, when Santana was getting tired and anxious waiting for a good time to get ready for their date, she just scooted over on the couch and gave Brittany a peck.

"What was that for?"

"I need a reason?"

Brittany shook her head. "Not really."

"Then shut up and kiss me," Santana leaned forward again. She was greeted by Brittany's lips as the blonde smiled into their kiss.

Santana had succeeded. Their date was pretty amazing– although Brittany thought Santana could never go wrong in doing anything– and Santana had Quinn to thank. Sort of.

Santana and Quinn ended up just talking about nothing and everything after totally giving up on Google. Santana gave her a general update about the current condition in the Schuesters' residence– which was pretty boring compared to their situation not too long ago; something that Santana was entirely grateful about– and Quinn gave her the lowdown about what had been happening at school while she was out. Apparently one of the Cheerios' parents had opened a dance studio for kids, and now that it was summer, the studio was temporarily closed as they wait for the children to come back from their vacation.

Santana, of course, couldn't pass up the chance. She put a finger on her lips (to which Quinn protested, "did you just shush me?!") and immediately dialed a number that belonged to the Cheerio-with-a-studio. After a minute of awkward chit-chat and a few more of haggling, Santana got away from the conversation with a whole day of studio use. It didn't cost her a lot, just a promise that she would leave that particular Cheerio alone instead of calling out her mistakes. Of course, the only reason why she had agreed to it was because the conversation was in conference mode and Quinn shot her a look that told her she would take care of the Cheerio. Well, that and the fact that she knew Brittany would love her idea.

And she was right.

Before she even got out of Puck's truck, Brittany was already exploding inwardly with happiness. A dance studio. A freaking dance studio! She had been waiting to come back to one since that day at McKinley when Sue had walked in on her.

"Santana, are we allowed to be here?" asked Brittany as she stepped into the building, Santana holding the door for her.

The darker girl nodded. "We are. You can do whatever you want. We got full use of all the rooms until 9PM tonight."

The dialog was cut short by a door that happened to be in Brittany's way. A glance at Santana earned her an encouraging nod that she took as a 'go ahead', so she opened the door.

"Oh my..." Brittany gasped. Her eyes went from wall to wall (well, mirror to mirror) from floor to ceiling and she couldn't decide whether to keep her heart inside her body or just let it out free from its cage.

The whole room was decorated with christmas lights. There weren't a lot of them, considering all Santana had was the Schuesters' box of christmas decoration from the basement, and to make up for it Santana had asked Quinn to buy flowers and complete the setting that morning.

"How did you..." Brittany trailed off as she twirled in the center of the room, taking in the beautiful bubble that she was in. Santana didn't even bother to turn on the actual lights so the room was somewhat dim. And perfect.

"I got my ways," Santana hung back and leaned against one of the walls on her right shoulder, watching Brittany be mesmerized by the sight. In all honesty, she really didn't think the room would've looked that good. But she could gawk over it later. Now, it's all about Brittany.

"You've been missing dancing, I can see it. So," Santana walked over to the back of the room and connected her iPod to the speakers. Then she made a gesture to let Brittany know that she was in charge of the music too. "Dance."

Brittany looked at Santana and took steps towards her girlfriend. "What are you going to do?"

"I can leave you alone if you want? I was thinking about coming back with dinner in about an hour."

"No," Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and moved her thumb across her wrists. "No, please stay. This is our date, and if you've gone out of your way for all of this," she looked around the room before returning her gaze to Santana, "then I'm going to give you something."

"Um," Santana looked at her phone. It was nearing 6.30 already. "What about dinner?"

"Dinner can wait. This is our date and I don't want you to leave. We can always get something delivered," Brittany pulled Santana to a spot near the back wall from which she could see the whole room and motioned for Santana to sit down. Then she walked back to where the iPod was docked and picked a song. "I've had this in my head since the first time I heard the song at Puck's football game," she explained. "And now, more than ever, since we got the place and everything... I need to show you this."

The guitar intro came on to the speakers and Brittany came back to the center of the room. She started moving to the music effortlessly, like she had done the dance a thousand times before and had it memorized.

And two minutes were all Santana had before she cried– a minute and forty-seven seconds before the song ended. She couldn't help it. There was something about the way Brittany moved. There was something about the way Brittany's arms were reaching out for her the same time as Chris Martin was singing, "my heart is yours, it's you that I hold on to," that broke down her barricade. It wasn't a loud sobbing cry, no. It was more of a one, two tears each time and Santana was convinced that she was melting from the inside. Kind of like icicles that formed on the roof of your house.

I saw sparks.

That was the line as the song faded out and Brittany landed on her knees right in front of Santana. Her wet blue eyes met Santana's brown ones and Santana internally broke down. She didn't just saw sparks. She held a whole bonfire for Brittany in her heart.

"That was beautiful. Thank you," Santana whispered as her thumb wiped the tears wetting the underside of Brittany's eyes even though her own were watering just as much. "Just... thank you."

oOoOo

Your body doesn't forget.

Your mind can be trained to forget, but your body doesn't forget. If you learned how to swim when you were little, then stopped completely for months, or even years, you would at least still be able to float once you come back into the water. Ther'es a built-in memory in your brain that registers all those learned movements into reflexes, just like how a computer opens certain applications every time it turns on. Or how a person with amnesia can automatically do their signature, even though they have no idea what their names are.

Which sucks for Brittany.

It had lessened, by a lot, but sometimes she still woke up in the middle of the night, waiting for that door to open. Waiting for someone to come in and make her do things. Things that broke her, physically and metaphorically every night. And there were one thousand two hundred and ninety-two of those nights. She counted.

At night she'd lay there in her bed, so still that even her chest wouldn't go up and down with her breathing.

Sometimes she wouldn't breathe at all.

But sometimes, on better nights, she'd have enough control of her mind that she could force herself to move. More than most of those times, she would end up looking to her right— to a bed where Santana was sleeping— and felt her muscles relax. She would feel her lungs slowly filling themselves with air again. Like she had been chained to a block of cement at the bottom of the ocean and Santana was the only one with the key.

But her body still remembered, and that was what she was secretly afraid of. It wasn't the fact that she, along with Santana, was responsible to the well-being of Will and Emma's house, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she had heard ghost stories that involved empty houses. Instead, the fact that she was going to be alone with Santana, in an empty house, for a whole weekend, was the very thing she was afraid of the most.

It's a disgusting thought, that she still could hear him in her ears feeding her with nonsense and promises of stopping. She could still feel him touching her, violating her. She could still smell his overly priced cologne breaching her senses until she couldn't tell if she was still alive or was indeed dead, was breathing or was simply letting go of her soul with each puff of air she exhaled.

She shouldn't feel that way, she knew, because Santana was her anchor. Because Santana was the one person that she could feel safe around, and because the only problem that she had was only in her had and it had absolutely nothing to do with Santana whatsoever.

But now it did.

The drive back from the studio was quiet. Not specifically because of Brittany's nervousness but a culmination of everything at once. Santana kept spacing out at Stop signs (and at very few of them she actually forgot to stop) and in a way, it calmed Brittany down a little bit. It wasn't hard to figure out that Santana was nervous too– albeit not for the same reasons.

Santana stood in front of her now. In their room. About 3 feet away, looking like she was either going to vomit, or that she was trying to calm her heart rate down before she took a few steps forward. Judging from the shy smile that was forming on her lips though, Brittany was sure it was the latter.

"So," Santana started awkwardly. "Here we are."

"Yep," Brittany nodded. "Here we are."

"Did you... have a nice night?"

Brittany nodded again with a grin. "I did. Thanks, San. I haven't danced like that since... well, you know since when."

Santana took Brittany's hands and kissed her knuckles. "I got us the space and all but I think I'm the one who's supposed to thank you because, really, you were amazing. I've never seen anybody dance like that."

Brittany chuckled. "I don't think you've ever seen anybody dance, like, ever."

"Well, that's kinda true," Santana scrunched her face and leaned forward to give Brittany a peck. "But you're still number one."

"Mm," Brittany smiled into the kiss. All her fears forgotten momentarily. "Am I really?"

"Really, really," Santana kissed her again and moved her hands to cup Brittany's face. She held her there for a moment and deepened the kiss as they both closed her eyes, letting everything else lose their meanings.

Everything did, and both of them had their hands on less than innocent places, trying to feel and learn by heart each and every inch of the other one's body. Both were panting and neither one was going to lie that there weren't enjoying the heat. Things escalated more and Santana's hand managed to sneak in between Brittany's shirt and skin, resting on the top part of Brittany's bare waist.

Brittany felt her heart stop. She pulled back from their kiss, thinking (wishing) that it was just because she needed to come up for air.

"What is it?" Santana carefully asked. She studied Brittany's face and saw something there that she couldn't figure out yet.

Brittany closed her eyes and shook her head. "Nothing. I just needed some oxygen."

Soon enough they were kissing again, making their way onto the bed. Once they got there, with Brittany's back lying down on the mattress, Santana made a trail with her kisses down to the blonde's collarbone, stopping briefly at her neck. Her left hand slowly moved upwards underneath Brittany's top and it rested just under Brittany's bra.

"Britt," Santana felt Brittany's abdomen tense and held herself up with her free arm. "Britt, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Brittany breathed out and nodded. "I'm good," she lied and stretched her neck up to meet Santana's lips with her own. To make her act even more convincing, she slipped her hand into Santana's shirt and roamed the skin of Santana's back and stomach.

Of course, Santana bought the lie. She had her doubts before, but really, who would be thinking straight when their girlfriend's hands were making circles so close to their breasts?

Not long after that, they were both lying there on Brittany's bed without their shirts on, Santana on top of Brittany. She grazed Brittany's bottom lip with her tongue and tugged it gently with her teeth as she moved her left hand upwards to the blonde's right breast. She slowly pushed the bra cup and sighed inwardly when she felt Brittany's nipple touching her palm.

But the bliss didn't last long.

Brittany started shaking. Not the usual kind of shakes, though. Her shoulders were shaking because she was crying.

"Brittany?" Santana panicked. Brittany was crying and whimpering under her and she didn't know why. "Brittany, why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," Brittany sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Santana pulled her hand off Brittany's chest and caressed the blonde tear stained cheek. "Hey, no," she said softly. "Ssh. What are you apologizing for?"

"I can't, Santana. I can't," cried Brittany again. "He's everywhere. I can feel him."

Santana's eyes widened. How could she be so stupid and selfish? She should've known better when Brittany pulled away from her– twice.

"Sshh... Britt, sshhh," she fit herself as well as she could into the tiny bed and wrapped her arms around Brittany. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think– I... I'm sorry, sshhh. It's okay. I want you to look at me," Santana pulled away and cupped Brittany's face, making sure that Brittany was indeed looking at her. "Don't you dare apologize, okay? It's not your fault. Remember that. It's not your fault."

Brittany responded with a sob and a few weak nods as she nuzzled into the crook of Santana's neck.

oOoOo

"Are you all better, B?" whispered Santana as she stroked Brittany's hair and the blue-eyed girl nodded slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how," Brittany hiccuped. "I wanted it to happen, I really do! You gotta trust me."

"Ssh... I know, I know," Santana gave her a kiss on the forehead. "But Brittany, I don't want you to hide it from me. Talk to me," she gave her a second kiss.

"I couldn't," said Brittany as she shook her head. "You're graduating next year. There's a chance that you'll be leaving me then, and it's hard enough to think about it. I can't tell you that I can't have sexy times with you. What if... what if you leave me now?"

"Oh, Britt," she caressed Brittany's cheek with her thumb. "If you think I'd leave you because of this, then you're wrong. I'm not in this for just the sexy times, Brittany. I'm not in this because of the kisses– well, okay maybe a little because kissing you is awesome," she poked Brittany's cheek and it earned her a stifled smile.

"It is kinda awesome," Brittany replied with a sniffle and Santana secretly sighed in relief.

"Brittany, you need to know that I'm all in," Santana squeezed Brittany's hand after a beat. "Everything. I'm all. In."

Brittany choked. It was exactly what she needed to hear; Santana telling her that the physical things didn't matter. That even though she was all messed up in the head, Santana was there for her. She would always be there for her.

"Sing for me," Brittany whispered a shaky breath. "Will you sing for me?"

Santana brought her lips down to touch Brittany's blonde hair and kept them there. "Anything," she nodded.

"All my little plans and schemes," Santana started singing in the softest voice ever, it was almost inaudible. Like she was scared the world would take her words away from Brittany. "Lost like some forgotten dreams," she fixed her positions that they were now face to face, brown eyes to blues. "Seems that all I really was doing," she moved her left hand to stroke long blonde hair and her thumb to wipe any traces of tears on the corner of Brittany's eyes. "Was waiting for you."

"Just like little girls and boys... playing with their little toys," Santana reached out for the blanket that was touching the foot of the bed and covered them both up to their necks. "Seems like all they really were doing... was waiting for love."

After making sure that they were both warm and covered up, she snaked her left arm under Brittany's neck to support the girl's head. "Don't need to be alone," she sang as Brittany nuzzled into her neck. Then she inched closer to the blonde, as close as she could get.

"No need to be alone," she stroked Brittany's hair again and the latter girl's eyes fluttered, heavy with comfort. And when Santana was singing to her that it was real love, Brittany took a deep breath, believing in her promise.

Brittany must've gotten lost in Santana's soothing voice for a moment because when she came to, she was all wrapped up in Santana's arms. And even though it was faint, she could swear Santana was telling her– singing to her, "don't need to be afraid. No need to be afraid."

No need to be afraid.

No need to be afraid.

No need to be afraid, and it was enough for the night.

oOoOo

From this moment on I know

Exactly where my life will go

Seems that all I really was doing

Was waiting for love

/

Don't need to be afraid

No need to be afraid

It's real love, it's real

Yes it's real love, it's real

/

Thought I'd been in love before

But in my heart I wanted more

Seems like all I really was doing

Was waiting for you