Christmas turned out to be intense and exhausting on a level Santana had not expected. She was not sure what she had expected, but it certainly hadn't been the incoherent, mad jumble of traditions that exploded at the house the second school let out. It left Santana sometimes breathless, sometimes laughing, and sometimes just plain confused.

During the holiday, she shifted houses more frequently and freely than ever before. There was Christmas at home – this strange, new concept now complete with a proper room and, shockingly, sort of a proper family. Then there was Christmas at Brittany's house, too, and Santana thrived in the luxury of knowing there were two entire houses standing with open arms ready to absolutely soak and drown her in Christmas spirit and simple love.

She knew that, by then, her old home in Lima Heights was filling up with guests. Her abuela, aunts, and uncles would probably, just like all other years, have driven in from Columbus. Usually there were extra beds all over the place during that time of year, and the house never really fell quiet, somehow buzzing even at night with anticipation and preparations.

Santana knew all that, but at the Hummel-Hudson residence she was, to her great relief, constantly too occupied to even think about it. Instead of sliding back into thoughts about what Christmas without her would look like back in Lima Heights, she could always lose herself in of the million tasks that were suddenly all over the house.

Kurt had worn a rather wild look ever since they got home the last day of school, and kept shoving boxes marked "Christmas" into her hands as soon as she was not baking or wrapping gifts.

Either that or she was at the Pierce's, helping finish up Lord Tubbington's Santa Claus costume that Brittany had been working on for a while, or lazily watching TV shows and Christmas specials on her girlfriend's laptop.

The balance of constant work and complete relaxation turned out to be a method pretty close to perfect when it came to actually enjoying Christmas instead of loathing every single heartbreakingly homesick second of it, which was, when Santana thought about it some more, all she actually had expected.

She and Carole struck up a deal late one night when Carole, coming home late from a shift at the hospital, had found Santana still sitting up with her laptop and papers all over the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry," Santana said yawning. "The desk got a bit small for all this, so I came down here."

"College?" Carole asked, putting her coat on a hanger.

Santana nodded, and Carole came and sat down next to her.

"You know what?" Carole said, reached out for the laptop and closed it quickly. "No. You're not sitting all alone in the middle of the night on Christmas break, filling out papers and reading about scholarships."

"What, do you have a better idea?" Santana mumbled, only half a second away from snapping angrily.

"Actually, I do," Carole replied calmly, which made Santana shift in her seat.

"I'm listening."

"You won't do it yourself, you'll do it with me. And you won't do it at night, and you won't sit with it forever. I'll sit with you every day between, I don't know, four and six, until it's done."

Santana looked down.

"But then I want you to promise me not to worry about it the rest of the time," Carole added.

"I can't promise that," Santana said, and it came out much weaker and fainter than she had expected. "You know I can't."

"I know," Carole said and tilted her head. "But I never took you for a girl who wouldn't at least try."

Christmas, decorations, cakes, cookies, food, college applications, lazy TV, Christmas specials, flower arrangements in the kitchen window, coffee, chocolate boxes. It all just came so fast, swirled around the house more like a storm than a holiday, and left Santana without much clue as to what life she was actually living.

"I hope you don't mind," Carole said one afternoon when they sat down together to look at their project. "But I Googled something for you."

"Okay?"

"It's just – don't judge me for the search, okay?"

Carole wore a look on her face that Santana had never seen on her before, but which she realized must be a look of embarrassment.

"Wait, what did you type in?"

Carole looked Santana in the eyes, cocked her head quickly to the side and threw her a hasty closed-mouth apologetic smile before she confessed.

"I literally Googled 'scholarships for gay students'."

Santana laughed, but stopped immediately when Carole pushed a paper over to her side of the table.

"Wait, seriously? You mean you actually got something out of that search?"

"I think you have a shot."

Quinn called her that night. When they were younger they had been on the phone together all the time, but with both of their lives sort of spiraling out of control, making them part-time friends and part-time enemies, it had stopped being a regular occurrence. So Santana was surprised, stared for a few seconds at the phone before she picked up, and let everything go back to when things were not that complicated between them before she answered.

"What're you up to?" Quinn asked, and Santana put down the pencil she was holding.

"You'd never believe me if I told you."

"What, screwing Puckerman again?"

"Are you really sure you want to go there, Q?"

"Touché."

They were silent for a moment before Santana breathed out.

"I'm writing an essay for this scholarship I'm applying to get," she said, biting her lip.

"What's so unbelievable about that?"

"That it's – for real, Quinn – a gay scholarship. Queer kids only."

"Does that even exist?"

"I know, right?"

And then there were even more cakes, more cookies, more chocolate boxes, and suddenly it was right there; a Christmas tree and a Christmas dinner and Christmas presents in colorful wrapping paper.

Santana did not really have a lot of money, and agonized for a few days over how she was going to cover Christmas presents for her new family.

In the end, though, she had to pride herself on her creativity, when she after all had accomplished four rather good presents.

Finn, she had no idea what to do for until she discussed it with Brittany, who lit up, ran down into the basement of her house, and came back with her old Mario Kart games.

"Brittany, those are yours," Santana hesitated.

"No, silly, they're for my old Playstation 3. I've got a 4. But Finn's still got a 3."

"And he doesn't already have Mario Kart?"

"He always went over to Puck's house to play it, you know that." Brittany said like it was the most obvious thing ever and handed over the box. "Take it. It'll be perfect."

Burt and Carole turned out to be trickier than Santana had originally figured they would be, but in the end she made Kurt stay up half a night with her after everyone else had gone to bed, to help her bake a Rosca de Reyes, a traditional Mexican cake she had helped do a million times before but never done on her own.

"Technically it's for twelve days after Christmas," she told Kurt as they closed the oven. "But I highly doubt Burt and Carole will mind, do you?"

Kurt laughed and looked at her a bit incredulously before he set the timer.

"I don't even think they know you have a Mexican heritage. I thought it was Dominican."

"It's both," she said with a shrug. "But the Mexican cakes are better."

For Kurt, she put her old, giant, black Lady Gaga bow in a shoebox she found in the attic, and tied a string around it.

I'm sorry for disappointing you, but this isn't a new pair of shoes. It's a small reminder how happy Í am that we are, after all, friends.

For Brittany, she got the old Lebanese t-shirt out of her wardrobe, wrapped it nicely in Kurt's ridiculous wrapping paper, and left a note.

I know you're not supposed to give gifts back, and I'm not. I'm just showing it to you in a new light. You taught me to see myself. I love you, Santana.

The gift made Brittany throw her arms around Santana's neck and kiss her senselessly even though both Mr. and Mrs. Pierce were in the room. At the Hudmel house, the gifts made Finn look so touched that Santana could swear he was about to choke, Carole openly cry, and caused both Burt and Kurt to cough unnaturally and wipe away poorly hidden tears. It made Santana blush and fiddle with the fabric of the dress Kurt had gotten her until they got to the next present.

And then, before they knew it, Christmas was over and New Years was right there.

She dragged Kurt along to Puck's New Year's Eve party, not stepping down even for a second when Kurt persistently continued to protest.

"Don't be so boring," Santana exclaimed as she was brushing her hair in Kurt's room. He had the better mirror – hell, he had a vanity, and Santana didn't like the lights in the bathroom. "Just let loose a little for once."

"I'm not going to that party, Santana!" Kurt's voice came from behind his bed. "I don't want to go to a party where..."

"We've been over this," Santana moaned. "It's just Puck, Kurt!"

"My point exactly."

"Oh calm down, hissy fits. He loves glee just as much as I do, so stop worrying!"

"Says the girl who just rejoined glee club and set that purple piano on fire only, what, five months ago?"

Santana quickly turned around over the chair with the brush raised in her hand.

"Can everyone just let that go? Sue made me!"

"Fine, whatever. I just don't feel comfortable being at some party full of jocks at Puck's house."

"Yeah, okay, reality check, Hummel. First of all, this isn't freshman year. Puck's not going to shove your head down a toilet. You guys know each other! Second, all of glee club is going to be there too!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not entirely accurate."

"Well, they will if they know both you and I are going. What's the problem anyway? It's like you've never been to a party or something! What are you, twelve?"

"I've never actually been invited to a party like this."

"Have you completely forgotten Rachel Berry's trainwreck extravaganza last year? Because last time I checked it was pretty memorable."

"Not exactly invited – I blackmailed Finn to get there, and it was at Rachel's."

"Okay, whatever, you've never been invited. Why does that even matter? You're not a vampire. If you've never been to a proper party then maybe you should consider pulling that stick out your ass and get to one. You're coming with me."

Burt and Carole let them go to the party under the rather understandable conditions that Kurt was the designated driver even though none of them were supposed to drink, and that they had dinner together at the house before they left.

"Why does Kurt get to be the one you trust?" Finn muttered.

"What was that about almost killing a mail man?" Kurt immediately cut in with a smile, and Finn cracked up, too.

Somehow, that made Santana feel just a tiny bit relieved. Seeing the boys act like brothers again, teasing each other without intent to hurt, was oddly almost enough like proof that she had not broken anything between them.

Santana hadn't paid much attention to her wardrobe as of late, but for New Years she made an effort and went through everything Burt had brought home for her. She settled for a black, laced dress and her gold pumps, and she pretended not to be flattered when Kurt fawned at her.

Kurt was suitably over-dressed in a sequined jacket set, Blaine wore a ridiculous, sparkling bowtie, and Finn had, after two rounds of Kurt sending him back upstairs to first shed the padded vest, and then change into a clean t-shirt, at least managed to look dressed-up.

They met Brittany at Puck's doorstep. She had redone her prom dress from the past year with different colored, round tulle balls and glitter attached to the fabric. To top it off, she wore a pink tiara on top of an elaborate hair-do Santana knew Mrs. Pierce always helped Brittany out with when she was asked.

"You look like a space princess," Finn said, and Brittany beamed. Santana leaned in, kissed her, and couldn't help but laugh an endeared giggle.

"A space princess hooking up with a fantasy villain," Santana replied.

Puck opened the door just as Brittany cupped Santana's cheek.

"First party out of the closet," Puck said with a smirk, but both Santana and Brittany knew him well enough to know that was Puck for 'I'm happy for you.'

"And yet, last time I saw Santana having a tequila, she was licking the salt off Brittany's stomach," Kurt commented, pushing through them into the hallway. "So I'm not too sure the difference will be all that extravagant."

"There's a streak of gold in your braid, San," Brittany said as Puck let them all in. "It matches your shoes."

"Don't take credit for that," came Kurt's voice again. "That was my work."

"Braiding each other's hair now?" Puck grinned. "I think your gay might be rubbing off on old Hummel, Santana."

"Shut your mouth or it'll be Snixx, not Santana, to you the rest of the night."

In the midst of the party, between the drinks and the dance and the shouted discussions, Santana halted to watch the wonder with sort of sober eyes. Not for the first time, she wondered what she would have said three years ago if she knew this was the reality the future held – Puck's living room filled with, sure, some Cheerios and footballers, but also an incoherent troop of nobodies, losers and outcasts, all having the time of their lives.

"Are you sure you're okay with not drinking, man?" She heard Puck ask Kurt. "Being the designated driver sucks."

"Like you've ever been the designated driver, Puck."

"You sure? You could all just crash here if you change your mind."

"Thanks but no thanks. I'm not too good with alcohol anyway. Last time I got drunk, I threw up on Ms. Pillsbury's feet."

She got to kiss Brittany when the clock struck twelve, her heart pumping ecstatically. It was not until they pulled apart that Santana realized there were three jocks jeering at them, staring, and she turned around slowly.

"If you ever look at us like that again," she said sharply, "I'll rip your fucking eyes out."

"There'll be no need for that, Snixx," Puck spoke up behind her. "You three, out. Just get out."

"Like you've never watched them, Puck," the guy in the middle said with a nervous laugh, and the change in Puck came immediately.

"I changed my mind," Puck said in a stiff tone. "It's probably better to just rip their eyes out."

"I'll do you one better," Santana replied, taking a quick step forward, grabbing hold of the guy in the middle, and kneeing him in the balls.

She, Brittany and Puck watched them flee out the door, and even Brittany, ever the violence hater, had a small smile on her face when the door smacked closed.

She glanced over at Kurt and Blaine, both standing decidedly quiet after having watched the scene unfold. They were holding hands – squeezing hands tightly by the look of it, and Santana's heart sank as she realized that this was going to be a never ending story – people seeing them and behaving like idiots.

The boys smiled meekly at her, and she knew that they were thinking the exact same thing.

"Let's dance," she said loudly with her eyes fixed on Kurt and Blaine, and then turned around to find Puck's laptop and get rid of the ridiculous rock playlist he had on, upping the volume and watching the party unfold in front of her.