Monday morning was not pleasant. I was tired, feeling more groggy than I usually did, and I could only assume it was a combination of still suffering from a slight hangover and certain activities Santana and I performed until nearly three in the morning. I shuffled into the bathroom, rubbing my left eye with the back of my palm. Santana was already there, and she cheerfully handed me my toothbrush.
"Morning," she said sweetly and pecked my cheek. I guess I was a little taken aback by how awake she was, especially since I woke up without her next to me. I definitely wasn't used to her being so affectionate outside of our rooms; not since Quinn and Rachel had come back. But it was definitely welcome.
"G'morning," I mumbled. I shyly took my toothbrush and she applied the toothpaste. I liked that she set her toothbrush up to mine and made one long strip instead of two separate ones. For some reason, that felt like a very girlfriend thing to do.
We stood in silence, quietly brushing our teeth. After a few seconds, Santana caught my sleepy gaze in the mirror and gently bumped her hip to mine. I let out a soft laugh as I bit down on the bristles of my brush, wrinkling my nose at her and knocking my hip back into hers. She did it again, and I waggled my free hand at her.
"'Thop i'," I said. She wiggled her eyebrow at me and went back to brushing. She finished before me and then wrapped her hands around my waist. It made it hard to rinse my mouth out with water when she was tickling her fingers at the bare skin that she exposed by pushing up my shirt a bit.
"S-santana," I spluttered.
"Sorry, sorry," she giggled. I wiped my face and pouted.
"How are you so awake right now?"
"I don't know," she said with a shrug, pulling me closer into her arms and sighing. I rested my head back sleepily.
"I'm exhausted," I sighed.
Santana nudged her nose against my cheek, whispering softly in my ear. "I should have let you sleep more."
"Mm," I hummed, only half agreeing with her. I definitely could have used the sleep, but I don't think she was entirely to blame. There was a small knock, and I lazily looked up to the open door. Rachel smiled weakly.
"What do you want?" Santana scowled. I nudged my elbow gently against her ribs, and she exhaled loudly. "Yes, Rachel?" she corrected, trying to sound a little more polite. She didn't.
"Just... the bathroom... can we? Um," Rachel gestured with her hands at us and herself and rotated them in the air. "Can I use the bathroom now?"
"Aren't you supposed to be in class already, Rachel?" I asked, looking down to the sink counter where the iPod dock was that displayed the time.
"That clock has been wrong for ages," Rachel said, scooting past us and then ushering us both out. "Besides, my class is cancelled."
"No wonder I'm tired," I said just before the door was shut in my face. I glanced at Santana, and she smiled as she gave me a tight squeeze.
"C'mon, sleepy," she said, kissing me quickly on the lips and grabbing my hand to tug me towards the stairs. "I'll make you breakfast."
Even when we had the apartment to ourselves, Santana had never made me breakfast when it wasn't a weekend. She was always super sleepy and would trudge around while Quinn would bicker at her to move faster, since they carpooled sometimes. I think I would have expressed my surprise along with Quinn and Rachel more if I hadn't been so tired myself.
"It's so odd," Rachel commented from the seat next to me at the dining table. I glanced warily up at her from the plate Santana placed in front of me.
"Hm?" I hummed softly as I jabbed my fork into the omelette.
"Like Freaky Friday weird," Rachel continued while holding up a spoonful of her grapefruit. She tilted the spoon towards me and then up to Santana. "Did you guys swap roles or something?"
"I dunno, there was a lot of swapping roles last night," I murmured, shoving my fork in my mouth. Santana's hand flew across the table to smack my forehead gently.
"Britt," Santana hissed. "Inappropriate."
"Wha'e'r," I tried to say, lazily chewing as I stared down at my plate. Quinn's shuffling at my other side caught my attention, and I glanced over to her. She quietly sipped on her coffee, and I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except I caught her shake her head. My brow furrowed.
"It's not like we couldn't hear you," Quinn sighed.
"Jealous?" Santana said as she sat down across from me.
"Hardly." Quinn rolled her eyes.
"We weren't that loud," Santana snapped. "Stop being so grumpy."
"Says the girl that's usually a zombie in the morning," Quinn snapped back. I bowed my head sheepishly as I shoveled another forkful of egg into my mouth.
"Are you two already arguing...?" Rachel groaned.
"Nope," Santana said cheerfully. She reached forward and placed her hand on mine. "Wake up."
"Hm?" I looked up. I hadn't been falling asleep, but rather, trying to avoid Santana and Quinn's attention. It didn't mean I wasn't tired, though. She smiled sweetly at me, as if she had decided to completely disregard that Quinn was annoyed.
"Ugh, I'm leaving in five minutes," Quinn said, scooting her chair back as she stood up abruptly. "If you're not ready in time, you can walk, Santana."
"Looks like someone commandeered the bitch town express," Santana murmured, causing Rachel to stifle a giggle. She straightened up and pushed her own chair away from the table as she addressed Quinn directly. "Yeah, whatever, Fabray. Don't get your untouched panties in a bunch."
Quinn let out an annoyed sigh and turned to go upstairs. She wasn't stomping, but she wasn't exactly quiet either.
"That's not really mature, Santana," Rachel said softly.
"I'm not going to let her sour attitude ruin my day," Santana snapped. "But if she's going to start trouble, then I'll give her hell-" She paused and caught my gaze. Her expression softened immediately, causing me to smile as well. She let out a small huff of air through her nose and shook her head. "I'll try not to instigate anything."
"Good," Rachel said, grabbing her plate before slipping away from the table and into the kitchen. "You should get your stuff, though, Q sounded serious."
"Yeah, yeah," Santana sighed, waving her hand lightly in the air. She looked down at me and then smiled again before she whisked off to grab her bag from her room.
"I've never had any siblings, but I swear, they act like it sometimes," Rachel said from the kitchen. I looked up from my plate.
"Nothing more?" I asked cautiously.
"Hm?" Rachel looked up from the sink.
"Nothing, nevermind," I murmured. That was a stupid thing to bring up.
"I've never even understood how they became friends in the first place," Rachel said, looking over to the stairs. "From the outside looking in, it was reasonable because they were both Cheerios, but now that we're roommates... I guess there are just some things you don't ever understand."
"I would assume there are all sorts of different friendships," I said, looking down at my plate again. I didn't really know, but being friends with Rachel was different than being friends with Tina and Quinn, and even Mike and Santana. They were definitely very drastically different friendships than ones I'd had with people like Jenna and Madison.
"Yeah, that's true," Rachel said. "Theirs is sort of love-hate, don't you think?"
Rachel spun around to laugh, but I straightened at the comment. I wondered if that was true. If it was, how much did Quinn love and hate Santana?
"Hey." Santana's voice whispered so suddenly in my ear that I nearly jumped as I turned to look at her. I barely caught sight of her when she leaned in to kiss me. My eyes widened for a second before they fluttered closed. She smiled and pushed a little harder against my lips, forcing her nose to smoosh lightly against mine. I tilted my head to the side, dropping my fork as I leaned forward to deepen it. A soft, satiated hum made its way up my throat a few seconds before she pulled away. I instantly longed for her to kiss me again, but I was left disappointed as she tapped my nose with her finger and wrinkled hers at me.
"See you for lunch," she stated. It wasn't a question. It was pure fact.
"Yeah," I breathed, nodding slowly. Santana stood upright and ruffled my hair playfully before Quinn called from the door. She rolled her eyes, but kept her smile as she stepped backwards towards the door.
"C'mon, lovergirl," Quinn sighed. "You're the one that said you needed to get to campus early."
"Shut up, Q," Santana murmured, giving me one last wave of her hand and blowing me a kiss good-bye. I smiled and pretended to catch it, and then Quinn gently shoved her through the doorway as I returned the air-kiss.
"Is it going to be like this every time you two part ways?" Quinn sighed.
"Yes. Now get off me, Fabray," Santana scowled as they both disappeared behind the door. Rachel and I both laughed.
"I guess she'll always still be Santana." Rachel shook her head as she turned her attention back to the counter. I didn't realize until she walked over a moment later with a mug that she had been making preparing a cup of coffee.
"For you, sleepyhead," she laughed and stretched her hand across the table. The mug had barely set down to the surface of the table when I snapped up.
"Shoot!" I shot from the table and scrambled to the door.
"Brittany, what-"
I threw open the door, but the hallway was empty. I almost bolted out the door, but I knew that even if I ran down the stairs, Santana and Quinn would be gone before I could make it in time to catch them.
"What on earth?" Rachel appeared at my side and looked down the empty hallway. "Did she forget something?"
"No, I did," I murmured, shutting the door and quickly retrieving my phone from my pocket. I was in the middle of typing out a text to Santana when Rachel huddled closer.
"When did- Did Santana buy you an iPhone, Britt?" Rachel exclaimed. My cheeks flushed and I nodded gently. She quickly stole the phone out of my hands with a wide grin on her face. "Aw...! 'Have a good day! I love you! x o x o'?"
"Rachel, give it back-"
The phone buzzed, and we both froze, my arms stretched over her since she had twisted around to hold it out of my reach. Rachel slowly brought it back down so that we could read the incoming message.
Love you too, B. Rachel, give Brittany back her phone. - Santana
Rachel and I stepped away from each other and she sheepishly handed me my phone back.
"I like your phone ca- oh my gosh, Brittany!" Rachel went from looking like a kicked puppy to astonished as she stared at me with this bewildered look on her face. I pulled my phone close to my chest with wide eyes, awaiting for her to tell me that there was a bomb or something equally as horrible until I noticed her eyes were trained very distinctly on me. I lowered my gaze, straining to look down at myself and then up again when she reached forward and flipped my hair back.
"Your n-ne...Oh..." Rachel's cheeks flushed and she drew back her hand quickly. "Brittany, you have like a million hickeys."
"Oh," I spoke softly as I dabbed my fingers gently at my neck. The pressure caused me to wince a bit, because they were more bites marks than anything else. "Um, yeah..." The word jellyfish popped into my head, and I giggled.
"Let's... get you a scarf or something..."
Santana smiled as she set her phone back in her lap. Quinn looked over at her from the driver's seat and rose her brow.
"I know why you're in a good mood, but I'm still surprised that she has this much of an impact on you," Quinn said quietly. Santana looked up at her and let out a soft sigh.
"Quinn, she's my girlfriend," Santana said, as if she'd said it a million times already.
"I just... I've never seen this side of you before, Santana," Quinn said. "Even when you dated Puck and Sam and-"
"All the other guys I've been with?" Santana rose her brow as her lips pursed together neatly.
"I didn't mean it like that," Quinn said. "It's refreshing, but it's also really hard to get used to."
"And why is that?" Santana said defensively.
"Well, no offense, S," Quinn said, glancing at her quickly before looking back at the road. "In all your other relationships, you've always been the dominating force. But with Brittany..."
"With Brittany what?" Santana snapped.
"You don't look at her like she's something to control or own," Quinn said softly. "So, as I said, it's refreshing."
Santana's expression softened and she let herself fall back into her seat. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, but Quinn was too focused on driving to notice. She shook her head lightly and picked up her phone when it buzzed in her lap.
Can I come to NYU for lunch? - Britt-Britt
Santana smiled and tapped on the screen of her phone quickly to reply.
Of course. I think that would be better than hanging around Juilliard for a few days. Do you know how to get to the Tisch building?
"Kurt and Mercedes are coming over tonight," Quinn said, but Santana was barely listening. "And Mike and Tina."
"Mm?" Santana hummed. "For what?"
"Monday Night Movie," Quinn replied. "I thought we talked about this last night."
"Oh, yeah," Santana nodded her head like she was actually listening. Her phone buzzed again, and she quickly swiped her thumb over the unlock button.
It's like a block from 8th and Broadway, right?- Britt-Britt
Yeah, but do you know how to GET there?
"-wants to watch The Karate Kid, but you know Kurt and Mercedes would rather-"
No. I'll have Rachel write directions for me. :) - Britt-Britt
"-then there's Jurassic Park, but we've watched that the last time he was over-"
You know... your new phone has this wonderful map app.
"-I don't really know where everyone is going to sit. I mean, there's the four of us, plus the four of them-"
"Britt and I have a date," Santana interjected, barely looking up from her phone.
"...Right," Quinn said quietly. Santana's phone buzzed again.
That's right! :) I don't know how to use that. I'll have Rachel do it. - Britt-Britt
Just as long as she doesn't text-
Santana's message was cut short when a rather long message was sent back.
Hello, Santana, this is Rachel. I'm just wondering if you would like me to direct her to the Tisch building itself, or if you are planning to meet up for lunch in the general area. I can recommend a few restaurants in the area, if you'd like. - Britt-Britt
"What the-" A series of shorter messages followed before Santana knew what was happening.
Maoz Vegetarian has falafels that are quite delicious. - Britt-Britt
I've heard Cafetasia is good as well. - Britt-Britt
There's a Korean restaurant on Mercer St. - Britt-Britt
Santana managed to type something quickly and send it.
Fuck, Rachel, I do not give a shit about your recommendations. I go to Tisch every day. Don't you think I know what restaurants are in the goddamn area? And what the fuck is a falafel?
There was a small gray icon indicating that Rachel was typing a response, but Santana tapped quickly on her screen.
Fuck, do you not know what a rhetorical question is? Stop texting me through Britt's phone. It's freaky.
The icon disappeared for a second, and then reappeared a moment later.
Falafels sound funny. Can we get pizza for lunch? - Britt-Britt
It's Brittany, btw. - Britt-Britt
Santana let out a soft sigh and smiled before responding.
Pizza sounds wonderful, B. :) And I knew it was you.
"What's with the text bombing?" Quinn said.
"Rachel took Brittany's phone," Santana replied.
"When did Brittany get a new phone, anyway?"
"I bought it for her yesterday," Santana shrugged.
"You don't have the money to do that, S," Quinn's brow furrowed.
"Yeah, no, I do," Santana said. "Unlike you and Rachel, I work during the winter and summer breaks instead of going home. I have savings."
"I thought you were saving up for your abuela to visit," Quinn said. "I mean, you were really upset when she couldn't visit for Christmas."
"It's fine, Q," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Brittany needed a phone. I still have enough."
"I just don't want you to ruin your plans with your grandmother because you can't keep track of all your priorities, Santana. You've had a few close calls with your job the past few weeks, not to mention you took off a lot too-"
"It's not like you're my financial advisor, Quinn," Santana snapped, ignoring the buzz of an incoming text message.
"No, I'm not, but I am your friend," Quinn frowned. She had pulled into her parking space and quickly shifted the gear before giving Santana a rather severe look. "I wasn't trying to overstep. But sometimes it's like you're not even thinking things through anymore."
Santana's brow furrowed and her grip on her phone tightened as she glared up at Quinn.
"I can't think things through? Well, obviously not, coming from the girl that's more complicated than a rubix cube," Santana spat, waving her free hand at Quinn before hastily grabbing her bag off the floor. "What I do with my money that doesn't go to rent is my business, Quinn. And if you were really my friend, you wouldn't be making my girlfriend think that she's not good enough for me."
"Santana-"
"Shut up, Quinn," Santana snapped as she threw the passenger door open. "You've been picking fights with me since Saturday morning. I'm going to class."
"You don't have class for an hour," Quinn said, quickly sliding out of her seat.
"To my professor's office, then," Santana shouted as she stormed off through the parking garage.
"The elevator is the other way," Quinn shouted back.
"Fuck you, Quinn," Santana growled, spinning on her heel and heading towards the stairwell.
I was really excited for my date do-over with Santana. Rachel had helped me make brownies before I had to leave for class, and promised to finish cutting them out for me since her class was cancelled. She said that the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets I bought probably wouldn't be enough for a meal, so she suggested I go with my original plan of macaroni and cheese when I got home from work. In the meantime, I was on my way from the subway station to meet up with Santana for pizza.
I spotted Santana waiting outside of the Tisch building. She was propped up against the wall with her arms crossed, and with her sunglasses on, it looked like she was scowling. Thinking that maybe she was just lost in thought, I decided to try and sneak up on her.
"What are you doing?" Santana said, lowering her glasses as I crept towards her.
"Oh. You can see me," I said as my lips spread into a smile. When she didn't quite return it, I faltered a bit. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, come on," Santana said, reaching for my hand and grasping it tightly before she pulled me down the street. The fact that she was holding my hand should have made me bubble up with warmth and happiness, but her demeanor was so off-putting that I couldn't really enjoy it. When we stopped at the crosswalk, I leaned into her and squeezed her hand.
"Are you mad?" I asked softly.
"What?" Santana said, looking back up at me and lowering her sunglasses again, this time taking them off completely. "No, Britt... No, I'm fine."
"You don't seem fine," I said. "Did you have a bad class?"
"No, my classes are fine," Santana replied. "Quinn and I just had a small fight earlier."
"Oh." I tensed up a bit. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Santana said, shaking her head and then forcing a weak smile. "Let's just get some lunch, okay? Come on, the light."
Santana lead me across the street towards this pizza place. It didn't really have enough places to sit at, so she ordered for us to-go, and then we walked to Washington Square Park to sit in the grass. She was pretty quiet the whole time, but it wasn't a completely uncomfortable silence. I was worried I wasn't doing enough to help, but she seemed rather content with us not talking for a while. So I waited. I ate my pizza slice, and then waited some more.
"Do you think Quinn is mad?" Santana looked up at me suddenly, as if she'd just noticed I was sitting with her. I attempted to smile at her weakly, but I guess it was more difficult because of the small frown on my face. I scooted closer to her.
"I don't know," I said quietly. Quinn had seemed annoyed last night and this morning, but I didn't really know how to respond to Santana's question. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into me. She sighed gratefully and rested her head on my shoulder.
"When I told her about us on Friday, she was really supportive," Santana said softly. "I don't know what changed."
I wasn't sure if Santana was asking me for advice or not. She was sort of just stating things, but the sort of inflection attached to her tone of voice made me wish I could say something back. I had nothing. Quinn was a complete mystery to me, and I was getting the feeling that even Santana, someone that had known her for years, didn't understand her.
"Maybe Rachel knows?" I asked.
"I doubt it," Santana sighed. "Rachel might have this eerie sixth sense when it comes to reading people sometimes, but she's not psychic. Quinn is tactful. She doesn't bottle things up, but she's usually very discreet with what she says. You know what she wants you to know."
"That's complicated," I said wistfully. "That would make her rather good at scheming."
"She is," Santana almost laughed. Almost. "It's probably why she was Cheerios Captain by our Sophomore year."
Santana fell silent again, but this time she picked up each of my hands and placed them over her stomach. She nestled herself into me.
"I'm sorry that Quinn made you feel so unsure of yourself, Britt," Santana said calmly. I would have stiffened, but the way she said it was actually soothing. She ran her fingers delicately over mine. "But no one else can tell you how to feel, okay?"
"I know." It came out quiet as a mouse. I stared down at our hands. If someone had told me that a year ago, would I have believed them? Half a year? When the semester started? Jenna was always telling me what was right and wrong and how to think. My brain always protested. Or at least, it forgot and I'd end up making the same mistakes. But I guess that is a brain's way of protesting.
Santana lifted my hands and bounced them once in her lap. She must have known I was lost in thought, because she twisted to look up at me when my eyes darted up to meet hers.
"What's going on in that cute little head of yours?" Santana asked. I smiled.
"I just remembered you feel with your heart, not your brain," I said, brushing my nose past hers as I gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.
"You're a dork," Santana whispered as her lips spread into a grin.
"So are you," I said, staring down at her and holding her gaze for a moment before I dug my fingers into her stomach in an unexpected and almost aggressive attempt to start a tickle fight.
"B-Brittany!" she squealed loudly. I ran my fingers up and down her stomach, even as she squirmed and wriggled to try and get free. She tried to twist around so she could tickle me back, but I managed to just push her back into the grass. She grabbed my arm and pulled me down on top of her. We giggled and laughed even though I had stopped tickling her, and I bent forward to kiss her. Her hand slid away from my arm and wrapped up beneath my hair and around my neck, forcing me to deepen the kiss. I should have ordered the same kind of pizza as she did. It tasted better.
"I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that you drove today and I forgot my MetroCard, I wouldn't even be here, Q," Santana scowled, slapping the pamphlet in her hand down against the armrest of the auditorium seat.
"If you don't want to run lines with me, then just say so," Quinn said from the stage, dropping her hands that held up an identical pamphlet to Santana's.
"I don't want to run lines with you," Santana said flatly. "I want to leave so I can go home and get ready for my date."
"Brittany has work right now, and she has to get ready for the date too," Quinn sighed, rolling her eyes.
"It's not fun if she sees me getting ready," Santana spat.
"That's your fault for dating your roommate," Quinn said, turning around to shove the pamphlet in her bag.
Santana paused, staring at Quinn for a moment before shaking her head. "Or yours, for not driving me the fuck home," Santana scowled. "Screw it, I'm walking."
"In those shoes? Right," Quinn said as Santana stood from her seat.
"You know what? Okay," Santana tossed her pamphlet aside and then stormed up to the stage. "I've had it up to here with your attitude." She waved her hand aggressively up in the air, and her brow furrowed as she advanced at Quinn. Quinn dropped her bag and crossed her arms over her chest, returning Santana's scowl with a wrinkle of her nose.
"My attitude? You're the one that's consistently a bitch, Santana," Quinn said angrily.
"I'm not the one constantly making snide remarks about my relationship with Brittany," Santana snapped. "Do you have a problem with my sexuality or something?"
"You! Ugh!" Quinn groaned, letting her hands rise in the air for a moment before she clenched them into fists and whirled around. "I don't care that you're gay! Why is it that you have to question me being okay with your sexuality, but it's perfectly fine for you to make a mockery of mine?"
Silence fell between the two as Santana's expression, that previously looked as if she were about to snarl, relaxed. She lifted her hand up and brushed a stray hair out of her face, scratched the side of her head and then looked back up at Quinn.
"What?" Santana's brow furrowed again, but this time confusion was drawn on her face.
"You're so self-involved, Santana. You've been hating yourself for years, hiding in your room or drinking away your problems, all the while ignoring the fact that I might have feelings about being alone and single this whole time." Quinn practically shouted with an exasperated look on her face.
"Wait, what?" Santana looked stunned. "You're not... not...?"
"I'm not gay," Quinn rolled her eyes. "But you're constantly poking fun at me being single."
"I don't understand how that has anything to do with why you've been such a jerk to Brittany."
"I'm not..." Quinn sighed. "I'm... damn it, Santana."
Quinn lifted her hand to rub over her face as she turned and walked to the edge of the stage. She moved to sit down, and Santana slowly walked over and sat down next to her.
"I'm jealous, okay?" Quinn sighed.
"You-"
"And not because you said you used to have a crush on me," Quinn added quickly. "I'm jealous of you and Brittany. That you've had such a strong and immediate connection. I've never had that with you, as a friend, or anyone else. And yes, to some extent, you being a lesbian is a little bit of a slap in the face."
"Care to elaborate?" Santana said, arching her brow. Quinn let out a weak laugh, and shook her head.
"You're going to totally misconstrue my words," Quinn murmured.
"Just talk, Quinn," Santana sighed. She didn't appear to be very patient.
"It's actually rather stupid," Quinn said.
"That word is banned from all our vocabulary, remember?" Santana said, nudging Quinn gently with her elbow. "Spill, Fabray."
"You were in love with me that whole time? Up until Brittany, right?" Quinn said, glancing up at her. "Or at the very least, definitely attracted to women?"
"I stopped being in love with you a long time ago," Santana admitted. "But yes, I'd been in denial about lady-loving until Brittany showed up. Go on."
"So that makes any and all those dates and one night stands you had just you using a bunch of guys to try and convince yourself you weren't," Quinn sighed.
"Drunken mistakes, for the most part, yeah," Santana nodded, looking down sheepishly.
"Well, for you they might have been mistakes, but... For Puck, it wasn't," Quinn said quietly.
"That's not-"
"I know you didn't intend to hurt anyone, Santana," Quinn said quickly. "But I can't say I'm not mad about it. You were in love with me, and he was in love with you... So I had to let him go."
Santana's brow knit together as Quinn looked away sheepishly. Any malice that had been present quickly faded as they sat wordlessly at the center of the stage. After a while, Santana sat up a bit.
"I-"
"You don't have to apologize," Quinn interjected.
"I wasn't going to," Santana said meekly, before letting out a tiny chuckle. "I was actually going to thank you for not saying you were in love with me."
"God, no," Quinn laughed. "Do you actually think that would have worked out?"
"Not at all," Santana nodded as her laughter grew. "Now that I've lived with you? Aw, hell no."
"Likewise, Lopez," Quinn said.
"Wait, so you would have tried?"
"No," Quinn knocked into her playfully. "I'm not into that."
"Good," Santana said. "I thought I'd misread my gaydar when Brittany started suggesting you and Rachel were... something."
"Oh, geez," Quinn sighed. "That's ridiculous."
"Whatever," Santana said with a light shrug. "Are you still... in love with Puck?"
"Puck and I... well, we'll always have Beth," Quinn said solemnly. "I think he's been very mature about how he's handled his feelings towards you, though. That actually says a lot."
"But do you still love him?" Santana asked.
"Who knows," Quinn sighed. "That ship set sail the summer trip after high school. Then he disappeared. Part of me was convinced that was why you were so reclusive."
"I didn't really even put the two together," Santana said, furrowing her brow as she picked at the folds in her skirt. "I'm sorry. Was that why you went home early?"
"That was part of the reason." Quinn nodded and then tilted her head to the side. "Okay, most of the reason."
"Wow. That was a long time ago," Santana said, pressing her weight into her palms as she leaned back and looked up at the lights above the stage. "That was like the last time I saw everyone from Glee club."
"Same, actually," Quinn said. "But that's just because you and Puck haven't been back in Ohio since."
The two laid down on the stage, dangling their feet over the edge.
"Nostalgia aside, does this mean you'll lay off me and Britt?" Santana asked, turning her head to look at Quinn.
"I didn't mean to sound so harsh," Quinn replied quietly. "You're my best friend, S. Maybe I got a little protective."
"I can take care of myself, Q."
"You didn't, though," Quinn said, looking to Santana as her brow wrinkled. "For years, S, you didn't."
Santana's lips pursed together and she lowered her gaze away from Quinn's.
"I mean, you did what you had to to survive, but it's like... where have you been for the past few years?" Quinn asked. "You were there. Always present, but you weren't living."
"I was hiding," Santana sighed. "For a lot of reasons."
"That's what hurts most, Santana," Quinn said. "That you were all alone, and you didn't even try to reach out for help."
"What was I supposed to say? It was easier just to ignore it." Santana shook her head. "Until Brittany moved in, and then it was just unbearable."
"God, please don't direct this conversation towards how attractive she is," Quinn groaned. "I already know you two go at it all the time. I mean, last night-"
"Not what I meant," Santana said, shooting up off the ground as she glared at Quinn.
"I was teasing," Quinn laughed. Santana smacked her gently on the arm before laying back down.
"It's just when I'm with her, I feel like all this weight is lifted," Santana said. "That I can just be me."
"So this is the real Santana?" Quinn smiled. "It's nice to finally meet her."
"Shut up," Santana giggled. "Look, I can't help that I love her. She's like my magnet."
"So it was love at first sight?"
"It was, I think," Santana sighed contentedly. "Maybe, anyway. At the very least, I was compelled to get to know her."
"Really?" Quinn laughed.
"Meeting her would have made my life miserable if I hadn't gotten to see her again," Santana murmured. "Like, if she hadn't moved in, I would have gone back and signed up for every dance class she teaches."
"You're crazy," Quinn giggled.
"But happy," Santana said, glancing at Quinn again and smiling. "Can't you tell?"
"Oh, I can." Quinn nodded. "Definitely can. It intrigues me how your relationship works, though. You're always cuddling and touching. It's like you can't keep your hands off each other, and yet I never really see you two just talking."
Santana let out a hearty laugh that was amplified by the open space of the stage.
"We really can't, can we?" Santana wrinkled her nose. "That's just how it is though. I think it's just part of the way we communicate with each other. It's what makes her such a great dancer, that's for sure. Her body language is amazing."
"Too much information," Quinn sighed.
"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes. "But you never answered me. You'll be nice to her, right?"
"I am nice," Quinn frowned.
"You told her she wasn't as in love with me," Santana scowled. "That's not nice."
"That... I meant that... I just saw how torn up she made you, S," Quinn said, sitting up. "You sat and worried and waited for her all night, you know?"
"Just because she has her own insecurities doesn't mean she doesn't care about me," Santana said. "She does. She loves me."
"I know," Quinn said. "But I don't think she's opened up to any of us enough to truly know her. I mean, where's she even from?"
"Lima, actually," Santana said as she sat up.
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah, she moved to Cincinnati just before starting high school," Santana nodded. "Weird, right?"
"Very much," Quinn frowned. "But I mean, if someone runs out on you and pushes you away like she did... do you even know why she reacted like that?"
"She was bullied," Santana said sternly.
"How? By whom? What's her story?" Quinn shook her head and ran both her hands through her short blonde hair. "She's an adult. She can't be living her life in the past."
"Not everyone is you, Q," Santana said, bumping her fist gently against Quinn's arm. "But yeah... Sometimes I don't know what to do. I was really scared when she disappeared."
"I know you were," Quinn agreed quietly.
"I think things are okay though," Santana said. "Between us."
"Are you sure?"
"No," Santana sighed. "In all honesty, I'm terrified she'll get scared off."
"That's your problem. You don't know how to talk about feelings." Quinn gave a loud and exasperated sigh. "And Brittany... She's too scared to rock the boat, because she just figured out how to steer."
"I don't know what to do," Santana said quietly. "I know I can make it right, as long as she sticks around. But it's those people that tear into her... If I could promise to protect her from people like that, I would, but I've already failed."
I stood silently at the side of the stage, leaning against the wall in the shadows where they couldn't quite see me. I'd wanted to surprise Santana, since she had texted me saying that she would be late running lines with Quinn, but I'd walked in while they were arguing. It was terrible to eavesdrop, I knew that, but they were talking about me for a lot of it. I just couldn't leave. But hearing Santana sound as uncertain about our relationship as I was made my stomach sink a bit, because I was the reason she doubting herself.
"For the record, I don't hate her," Quinn said, making me look up to the stage again. "We've been friends forever, S. And you know I don't care about other people's petty problems."
Santana snorted, as if Quinn had said the understatement of the century.
"I don't. But this isn't a stupid- Sorry, a minor issue. For the both of you, it's big," Quinn continued. "I think Brittany just hasn't had the kind of support you've been neglecting to rely on."
Santana looked up and smiled weakly at Quinn. "Yeah?"
"Rachel and Tina and I are all here for you. Both of you. Mike too," Quinn said. "And I'm really sorry that I wasn't as precautious about Brittany as I could have been. I really should have known... I mean, like before... the look she had on her face when Finn was hassling her... God, it was like she'd seen a ghost."
"Ugh, I swear, I was going to rip him in half," Santana growled. "You all should have let me."
"My point is, all of us need to do a better job of accommodating Brittany into our lives," Quinn said. "I think the only one that has done so, elegantly, is Rachel."
I almost laughed, but luckily I slapped my hand over my mouth before it could bubble out of my throat. Santana and Quinn laughed too, so if I had made any sounds, they didn't seem to hear it.
I had to try harder. To be more open to Santana, and for her to be aware that I wasn't going to leave. I wanted to be here, and I wanted her. She focused so much on me. I didn't know how she could do that. I was always thinking about myself, and here was this girl, giving herself so selflessly to me. She put aside all her fears and doubts just to risk it. I had to too.
Maybe I shouldn't have stood there so long. I felt like now, if I did anything, I was just going to make them aware that I had been listening in on their conversation. I turned back to the door.
"I am not taking a leaf out of Rachel Berry's boo-" Santana paused as she hopped off the stage. I was carefully trying to close the door without making a sound, but she caught sight of me. I froze, wondering if it looked like I was walking in or out of the room.
"Britt," Santana said, a smile spreading over her lips. "What are you doing here?"
"I..." I held my mouth open as I looked from Santana to Quinn. She had just jumped off the stage, as well, and was looking at me curiously. "I figured there were only so many auditoriums in the building that you two would be in, so I decided to drop by instead of wait around for you."
"But you had wor-" Santana looked down at her wrist for the time and then frowned. "Shit, it's really late."
"Not that late," I said, stepping forward and smiling sheepishly. I guess they hadn't noticed I was trying to leave.
"Late enough," Santana said, moving towards the first row of seats and scooping up her things.
"I take it you need a ride home?" Quinn asked me as I got closer, holding up her keys and smiling. I gave her a warm smile back.
"That'd be preferable," I said. Santana grabbed me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder, forcing a small gasp from me.
"We can cuddle in the back seat," she murmured and then kissed my cheek.
"I am not a chauffeur," Quinn frowned.
"Santana, you said you were going to get ready," I said, puffing out my lower lip as she hugged me from behind as I stood in front of the stove.
"I changed," Santana said. "And now I'm back."
"This is supposed to be a surprise," I mumbled.
"There are totally a million reasons you could be boiling macaroni and cheese noodles," Santana remarked, rolling her eyes and smiling up at me.
"Go sit down," I said, wiggling a bit.
"I don't want to-"
"Brittany, your noodles are sticking to the bottom of the pot," Rachel said as she leaned in at my side to glance at the stove.
"Shoot. Santana, go sit down," I said again. Santana pouted, but she withdrew her hands to trudge towards the living room.
"Get out of my seat, boy-Chang," Santana snapped as she got to the sofa. Mike raised a brow at her and smiled as he scooted closer to Tina.
"Santana, be nice," I called from the kitchen.
"No worries, I know a grumpy Santana when I see one," Mike replied, his smile broadening at Santana. She gently kicked at him, and Tina stretched forward to whack her.
"Just 'cause you can't get at yours doesn't mean you can attack mine," Tina said.
"Can you please hurry up, Britt?" Santana whined, ignoring Tina's comment as she slumped over the side of the armrest.
"You have no capacity for patience, do you?" Quinn said from the recliner. "Your date is going to happen, so just calm down and let Brittany finish making her food."
"I don't care about the food, Britt," Santana practically howled.
"I know what you care about," I laughed. I managed to drain the noodles and start adding the butter and milk to the cheese powder, but there were still a few minutes left on the chicken nuggets.
"Do all your dates just involve making out, Santana?" Tina asked shortly before Santana tossed a pillow at her face.
"No," she scowled. "Come on, Britt. Kurt and Mercedes are gonna be here soon, and I wanna get up to the roof before it gets too crowded in here."
"Are you sure that's the reason?" Rachel asked before biting down on a carrot. She was preparing a small plate of snacks for their movie night.
"What's that supposed to mean, Berry?" Santana barked.
"You are going to tell them, right?" Quinn said. "That you two are dating."
"Of course," Santana said, sitting up. "I just don't want coming out cutting into my date."
"That sounds like an excuse," Tina said softly, and Santana arched her brow as she sat up. Tina lifted up the pillow in her hands defensively.
"I'm not afraid to tell lady Hummel and actual diva Jones," Santana scowled. "They're like the original gays."
"Mercedes isn't gay," Mike said, his brow furrowing with confusion as he looked from Tina to Santana.
"She was going to play Dr. Frank-n-furter, it counts," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "She's an honorary gay. Or ally. Whatever."
"...Santana," Quinn said, shaking her head. "You're misdirecting."
"I'm not, I just would like to enjoy my date with Brittany in peace," Santana said, smacking her palm against the armrest. "Kurt would gush, and Mercedes would want to know all details and background... and I just want to go up to the roof and dance with my girlfriend, okay?"
"We're dancing?" I asked, as I pulled out the tray of dinosaur nuggets from the oven.
"I don't know, are we?" Santana smiled at me as she leaned over the armrest and held her head up in her hands.
"I don't know, maybe," I winked, dumping the chicken nuggets onto a plate. "Help me carry these upstairs?"
"Finally," Santana said as she sprang from the couch. She swiveled around Rachel and grabbed the plate of brownies and one of the bowls of mac n cheese I had scooped out. I laughed at her enthusiasm and wrinkled my nose at her. I nodded my head at the stairwell as we crossed the living room with our hands full.
"You guys really should tell them, though," Mike said softly. I stopped at the second step and looked down at Santana.
"Should we wait?" I asked.
"No," Santana shook her head. "Why don't you guys tell them?"
"You're giving us permission?" Tina arched her brow.
"To tell Kurt and Mercedes?" Santana said looking back to me. I shrugged. "Yes. Better giving you permission than leaving you on your own to try and explain why we're making out on the roof instead of making out on the couch while you losers watch Toy Story."
"Toy Story isn't lame," Mike frowned.
"I like Toy Story, Santana," I said. "I didn't know that's what they were watchin-"
There was a buzzing sound from the door and Santana quickly nudged me.
"Up, up, up," she said. "Before they catch us and guilt us into watching a movie with them."
"I wanna watch Toy Story!" I said as she gently shoved me up the stairs. I could hear Kurt and Mercedes as Quinn opened the door, but we had disappeared up to the second floor already.
"I don't know how you managed to burn macaroni and cheese," Santana laughed, dropping her spoon into her bowl as she wrinkled her nose playfully.
"You were talking the whole time. It was distracting," I said quietly. She was laying in front of me on the blanket I'd laid out, propping her head up with her hand as she smiled gently at me. I knew she was just teasing, but the macaroni had actually turned out terrible. I stretched forward to grab another brownie.
"You've had more dessert than dinner," Santana said.
"There are like so many brownies though," I said, covering my mouth with my hand.
"I see that," Santana said, reaching for a dinosaur nugget. I picked one up and smashed it against hers and made growling noises. She laughed and tried to fight back.
"Stop, no, you're dead," I said, knocking my nugget against hers.
"What? No!"
"Yes, you're a stegosaurus. I'm a T-Rex," I said, grabbing her nugget and chomping down on its head.
"You ate me!" Santana exclaimed.
"You'd love that," I grinned. Santana gasped and smacked the other nugget out of my hand before starting to tickle me.
"St-stop S-Sant-tana," I laughed. "The food!"
Somehow she managed to crouch over me without getting any of the food on her dress. Her hands were raised above my head, placed delicately in mine. Her laughter faded into a gentle smile and she leaned down to kiss me.
"Mm," I hummed softly. I licked my lips as she lifted away from my mouth, peppering soft kisses down my jaw. She froze when she got to my neck and then playfully tugged at my scarf.
"It's not that cold up here, is it?" Santana murmured, pecking her lips just below my earlobe.
"No, it's a Santana guard," I laughed.
"You don't want me to kiss you?" She sat up, resting her butt against my lap as she released my hands. I inched up to look at her and shook my head.
"I'm kidding," I said, lifting my hand to pull my scarf down, revealing the darkened marks she'd left from our previous night's sexcapade.
"Oh my god," Santana exclaimed, leaning forward and catching my hand in hers. She buried her face into my neck, kissing as softly as she could to the hickeys along my neck. They were feather light and apologetic.
"It's okay, Santana," I giggled, letting my hand slide down to her waist. "I love your love bites."
"I'll be more careful next time," Santana said quietly. She tried to sit up, but I wrapped my hand up through her hair and held her down into me, gazing up into her soft, brown eyes as her forehead rested against mine.
"What?" Santana whispered softly after a while.
"Nothing," I smiled. I let my hand fall to cup her cheek and then leaned up to kiss her. "Would you like to dance?"
"With you? Always," Santana said happily. She stood and pulled me up with her. It took me a second to find my footing, but she held my hands firmly until I did so. Once I recovered, I stepped backwards and led her to the middle of the rooftop, center stage between all the lights that were hung up. I was about to let go of her hands so that I could turn on the music, but I glanced around quickly and realized I'd left my iPod in my room. My brow furrowed with frustration.
"First the macaroni, now the music-" I started, but Santana kept her grip on my hands and pulled me close.
"I don't care," Santana whispered. She interlaced her fingers between mine and inched closer, resting her head against the crook of my neck.
Everyone kept saying that it was strange for Santana and I to be so close, because we had only known each other for such a short time. And maybe Santana and I still had a lot to learn about each other. For me, it felt like always. Always and forever, yet somehow it still made my heart race when we were so close to one another. Every dance felt like the first, and every kiss was just as sweet.
I slipped my hands out of Santana's to wrap them around the small of her back, pulling her closer as we rocked slowly around. She nestled further into me and let out a soft sigh. The rhythm was slow and calm and perfect. All my years of training would not have prepared me for dancing with Santana. Even dancing with her before didn't keep me poised. I was nervous and anxious, but there was also a strange normalcy to it.
It must have been the lights. It made things seem surreal. They were gorgeous. Rachel was right. They were like stars. They might not have been real stars, but it was the closest we could get here in Manhattan.
When Santana whispered sweetly in my ear, I was flooded with this overwhelming feeling of warmth and intimacy only she ever could bring out in me. My fingers dug into the fabric of her dress and I shut my eyes tightly. It was weird that even when I closed my eyes, my sight was filled with color from all the twinkling lights that had lingered in my vision.
"Britt...?"
I misstepped and nearly forced Santana to stumble with me. She dragged her hand up to cup my cheek and I leaned forward, resting my forehead down onto hers.
"What's wrong?" she asked, running her thumb beneath my eyelid to wipe away a small bit of wetness I didn't realize had gathered there.
"...Thank you, Santana," I whispered softly. I felt her brow move against mine.
"For what?"
"It's just... I love you so much," I said. "And I know I mess things up, but I don't... I don't want you to worry. I'm not going to leave."
"Britt," Santana breathed softly, and her lips were so close to mine that they were practically touching. Her other hand reached up to hold the other side of my face. "I know."
"No, Santana," I shook my head lightly. "I can't... I didn't mean to make you scared of the same things I am. You don't have to be scared. Please don't be scared. I won't leave."
"...Sweetheart." Santana's hands moved to grip my arms as she stood on the tip of her toes and kissed my forehead. It was a tiny gesture in comparison to so many other things we did, but it was the one I needed most. She guided me back to the blanket and sat me down, smiling weakly at me until we were both nestled into each other.
"What sparked this?" Santana asked sweetly. She brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "Was it because I was upset at lunch? That was because I was mad at Quinn-"
"No," I said softly. "No, I... I heard what you and Quinn were talking about." I kept my gaze down and avoided her eyes. I didn't want her to be mad at me, because I knew it was wrong to listen in. I hadn't meant to. I really hadn't.
"Back at the auditorium?" Santana asked. I nodded sheepishly and she let out a small laugh. "Britt, even if I am a little scared, it doesn't mean that this isn't going to work.
"I've been scared this whole time," Santana admitted. When she paused, I lifted my head up a bit to look at her. Her brow was slightly furrowed, but she kept her eyes on me as she spoke. "About everything. Getting caught. My sexuality. How my friends were going to react. Everything but you."
"But you said to Quinn-"
"I'm scared that you're going to get scared, yeah," Santana nodded. "But more so that I won't be able to help if that happens."
"That's not okay," I whispered. "For you to be worried about that."
"We're not going to let that happen, though, right?" Santana nudged her nose against my cheek.
"Not if I can help it," I sighed.
"Then no worries," Santana said, smiling before kissing my cheek. "Not on my end. What about you?"
"I... I trust you," I said softly, tickling my fingers over her hand. "Everything I've gone through tells me I shouldn't, but... You're different than anyone else I've ever met. You care about me. You take the time to get to know me when no one else does. So I can't help it. I love you."
Santana sighed softly and hugged me closer. "I couldn't not love you. And I don't understand people that don't love you either. You're amazing, Brittany."
"I guess I've just not known very nice people," I murmured softly.
"Well, you have me now," Santana kissed my temple.
"And that's all that matters," I sighed.
"All that should matter," Santana agreed. "But if you ever want to talk about anything, even if it's old news, Britt... I'm here. So is everyone else, but I want you to tell me if there's anything bothering you."
"Okay."
She pressed her forehead to mine and I smiled.
"I'm glad Quinn and you straightened things out," I said softly.
"Yeah, me too," Santana said. "I guess that was eating at you too?"
"A little bit," I murmured.
"That's fair," Santana nodded. "Being Cheerios, Quinn and I weren't always the nicest people. We both have a bit of a mean streak. I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire."
"I want to know more about you being a Cheerio," I said, picking at her dress. She laughed and shook her head.
"No, you don't," Santana said. "We were mean ass bitches. You don't want to know more about that me."
"Then when you were part of Glee?"
"Best part of high school," Santana whispered. "But don't let anyone else know that."
"I promise," I smiled, quickly finding her pinky and linking it with mine. She laughed again and leaned in close enough to kiss me.
"Tell me about you," Santana said. "I want to know everything about you. Who was your first crush? Your favorite class - not dance, though. Where in Lima did you used to live?"
"So many questions," I giggled.
"I have a million," Santana grinned.
"What do you want to know most?"
"Hm," Santana leaned back. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled.
"When did you know you were attracted to girls?" Santana asked, but then sat up. "No, wait. Where did you get Jeremy? I want to know that most."
"That's actually a very interesting story-" I started, but a small cry cut me off. I looked up in time to see a tuft of neatly arranged hair appear from the fire escape ladder, and a second later, Kurt was climbing over the wall onto the roof. He was joined almost immediately by a just as enthusiastic looking Mercedes.
"Good god," Santana groaned.
"-Guys, seriously, I said no," Quinn shouted from beyond the wall.
"You're the one who has been complaining about the seating arrangements all night," Kurt called and then turned his attention back to us. "Hellooo ladies."
I stifled a giggle as Kurt and Mercedes practically pranced over. Kurt paused and did a small twirl under the lights.
"Oh la la, all this for a date?" Kurt smiled. "This can't possibly be Santana's doing."
"Shut up, prancy smurf," Santana said. Her brow furrowed and she had a scowl on her face. "I can be romantic."
"As we've heard," Kurt said politely. The rest of them slowly filtered up to the rooftop, minus Rachel.
"-Can someone please help me up the stairs?"
"Rachel, I thought you came up here before," Quinn said, rolling her eyes and walking back to the ladder to help her up.
"It doesn't mean I like climbing the fire escape! They are for emergencies!"
"Rachel mentioned an Aquarium?" Mercedes said, glancing back as her brow furrowed with concern at Rachel's misdirected attempt at climbing over the wall. Quinn managed to pull her up, and rolled her eyes when Rachel quickly composed herself and pretended like she hadn't just been struggling with the ladder.
"Two Aquarium dates, if I'm not mistaken?" Rachel said as a small, knowing smile spread over her lips.
"You do realize that this is a date, right? Meaning two? Dos. Mi amor y yo." Santana lifted her hand and pointed between us.
"And although most of us don't understand Español, speaking Spanish isn't going to hide the fact that you just admitted you are in love." Kurt smiled and arched his brow at Santana as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Is that what that means?" I whispered, turning to look back at Santana. I caught sight of her blush and couldn't help but wrinkle my nose.
"Oh, come on, you two," Mercedes said with a wave of her hand. She reached down for Santana's hand and Kurt did the same for me as we were both pulled up off the ground. Kurt spun me around and laughed while Mercedes pulled Santana into what looked like an extremely tight hug.
"You know you didn't have to hide this," Mercedes said softly. Santana flicked her eyes to me from the embrace and shook her head gently before parting.
"'Cause, girl, you are fierce, femme, and-"
"-Phenomenal, I know," Santana nodded as a smile crept over her lips.
"Was this really your date?" Tina asked, stepping forward and looking around.
"Yes. Now you can all conveniently go back downstairs," Santana snapped. Kurt let go of my hand and I quickly snaked my arms beneath hers and hugged her from behind.
"We've all already seen Toy Story," Kurt said, lifting his hand to tap one of the lights. "I think it's a much better plan to embarrass you, Santana. It's the least I can do."
"That's not fair-"
"Teen Gay," Kurt announced, waving his hand dramatically in the air and gesturing to Santana. He bowed politely and then threw his hands to the side. "You may now proceed to the next checkpoint. You are now entering adulthood."
"That was for your own-" Santana looked flustered. "I-"
"Rude," I laughed, not really knowing the context of the statement. She let her hands drop to cover over mine and sighed.
"-I'm sorry," Santana murmured.
"High school was not any easier because of you," Kurt shook his head. He looked up at me and winked. "But it wasn't all bad. We all know you're a sarcastic bitch."
"Takes one to know one," Santana replied. I squeezed her tighter.
"Finest compliment you've ever given me, Santana," Kurt said. "Now, Brittany, I apologize that we climbed through your window, but Rachel mentioned you two were going to be dancing." He reached into his pocket and delicately pulled out my iPod. "It's rather hard to dance without music, isn't it?"
"It's much easier than you'd think," I said softly, and Santana glanced at me. I craned forward to look at them all, from Kurt to Quinn, as I sway Santana and I back and forth slowly. "Would you care to join us for a dance?"
"A rooftop dance party?" Mike smiled and took Tina's hand in his.
"Love to," Tina grinned, giving him a small curtsy before he twirled her beneath the lights to join us. I smiled when Quinn and Rachel exchanged an awkward glance. I almost laughed at the relieved look Quinn gave when Kurt scampered over to grab Rachel's hands. Mercedes rolled her eyes as she went to drag Quinn forward as well.
"Only if I can sing, Kurt," Rachel insisted. She looked like she was pretending to protest, but a grin was plastered on her face.
"God," Santana twisted in my grasp until she was facing me.
"You don't want Rachel to sing?" I asked.
"I don't care what they do, as long as I can dance with you," Santana murmured.
"My thoughts exactly."
A/N: It's like the theme is dancing or something.
Songs:
Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina (Unplugged Acoustic Version) - I don't have a link to this because I can't find it on youtube.
I just came to say HELLO by Martin Solveig & Dragonette - watch?v=OMINnQNpcnc (I imagine that this is the song the gang sings/dances to on the rooftop, but it was a better written ending where it is right now.)
Phoenix hemo: First off, no. A love triangle between the Unholy Trinity wouldn't really make sense, not with what has happened thus far in the story. Second, the story I 'co-wrote' with Wonderland was intended to be a oneshot. She insists that I'm co-writer, but that story is her baby more than it is mine. I want to encourage her to work on it, but we don't really have a lot of extra time to do multiple projects. We may go back to it, with the completion of ITYTD, but I have more of my own projects planned.
Guest: I don't think Brittany is a brat, but you're welcome to your opinion. The first half of what I've written was really focused on Santana, so after Santana came out to Mike and Tina, my intention was to shift the focus back on Brittany's insecurities. I think Brittany has a childish and playful demeanor and her insecurities almost outweigh Santana's because she hasn't had the support of the Glee club for as long as Santana has. If the switch in focus has portrayed Brittany as such, I can see in some instances why she seems like a brat. She keeps running the same problem over and over in her mind in the past few chapters, and problems like Brittany's don't go away just because a wonderful girlfriend says she loves her. But as vague a statement as you made, the criticism is welcome and surprisingly constructive when you put a positive light to it.
Jaelynne17: Songbird is a minor theme throughout Brittany's nightmares; since Santana's appearance started, I've been referencing a birdcage and Santana's apparent inability to sing on stage. Tina also has made reference to Santana being a 'chickadee', which is a type of songbird. As much as I want to have Santana sing Songbird to Brittany, I'm not sure if it will happen in this fic. As for the 'scissoring' reference... You'll have to wait and see, I suppose. ;]