A/N: Okay, so, first off, sorry. My computer overheated and I was about ten degrees from melting my processor so I've been working to get it fixed over the last couple weeks and now if you're keeping a tally, this would be the second time I've broken my computer in the process of writing this story haha but I've actually been struggling with writing more of this story now that it's coming to a closing but I promise you it will be finished and not left with no ending. I talked with Breakdown6 and I'm thinking I could possibly have 5 or 6 more chapters out of this, but there's always the opportunity for more. Anyways, this is a part 1 of 2. If I kept them together it probably would have gone to about 16,000 words and that's a bit excessive in my opinion. So the next part will be up in a few days, as long as I get some free time to write soon. Just stick with me, we've come this far :)
As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! I hope everyone's still enjoying it :)
Quinn did show up to school that week. Santana was glad to not have to start another argument with her friend so early out of the hospital. Seeing her roll down the hallways did serve a small amount of amusement as well, though she'd never let anyone, including Quinn herself, know that.
Santana watched the first couple days as Rachel followed Quinn around cautiously, like the wheelchair would suddenly burst into flames and send her back to the hospital, which she found even funnier. Most especially, she enjoyed hearing the hidden growls of frustration Quinn expelled every time they were alone together in the bathroom together after deceiving Rachel into letting her have a few minutes alone.
She realistically could have followed them in, but after a stern command that she didn't need help going to the bathroom, Rachel backed off Quinn. Santana followed her inside and strained to contain her laughter only long enough to get inside the door.
"How can she be smothering me when we aren't even dating," Quinn groaned, brushing her hair back behind her ears. "I love her, but she needs to understand I broke a few bones. I'm not paralyzed."
Santana wiped away a rogue tear from her laughter. "Aw, come on, Q, she's just wants to take care of you. That whole Florence Nightingale bullshit or whatever."
Quinn had glared at her. "That's when you develop feelings, moron. Not when they're already there."
"Maybe she's having more feelings. Like the feeling of wanting to change your bedpans." She smirked and avoided a deliberate roll of Quinn's wheels towards her foot.
In her honest opinion, Santana thought the way Rachel acted was adorable. A teeny, tiny, small part of her insane consciousness might have even wished she could get in a minor accident to have Brittany fawn over her in that way.
Then again, Brittany had been acting that way; ever since she revealed what had happened between her and Quinn, the girl had paid extreme amounts of attention to her and attempted to wait on her hand and foot.
Attempted, because Santana wouldn't let her most of the time, trying to convey that she understood why it was happening and that she didn't think it was necessary. After two weeks of denied food runs and one-sided sex, Brittany seemed to get the message.
She didn't blame Brittany for what happened and the longer they acted as if what happened had somehow changed them, it eventually would. Santana didn't want that. She wanted everything to go back to normal. And after three weeks, everything had been put back in its place.
Brittany tapped her pencil against the fresh set of practice problems and rolled her eyes up to think. Even if she hadn't been thinking about the next day—their flight to California—the problems weren't coming easy to her. She glanced up and saw Quinn rifling through an Algebra textbook, completely distracted in her pursuit of more torture to put Brittany through. With her distracted, Brittany took the opportunity to seek out Santana's gaze from the corner of the room.
It wasn't that hard, considering. Since they had started the new round of tutoring, Santana included, she mostly sat there and found ways to distract Brittany's attention. She'd throw erasers at Quinn's head, groan/sigh/huff, or slide onto the bed next to Brittany and help her with whatever she was working on. After Quinn saw that, however, she mandated Santana stay off the bed or away from the desk while Brittany worked. Brittany felt very grateful Quinn made the effort to keep them on track, because she knew she wouldn't if they were alone together.
Santana had already been staring at her when she found her eyes, warm and teasing. Brittany smirked and arched her eyebrows, in a mock effort to entice her. Santana smirked at her and shifted in the chair in just the right way for her Cheerio's skirt to ride up around her butt. Brittany couldn't help but drop her gaze and grin.
Without moving her head from the book, Quinn mumbled, "Could you two stop being pervs for an hour, please? She has a test on Tuesday, Santana, and with you two gone all weekend, there won't be another chance to study for—"
"Alright!" Santana got more comfortable in her chair. "Chill the fuck out, Fabray."
"S," Brittany chastised. She tried to distract Quinn by scribbling stuff down onto the notebook and handing it to her. "Is this right?"
Quinn grabbed a pen and checked over the work, comparing it to the notes she had on a scrap paper laying flat against the bed. "The work is right, but you didn't add this up correctly." Leaning to the side she pointed to it and said, "See twenty-seven and thirty-eight would make sixty-five, not sixty four. Besides that, you did the problem correctly."
"Sweet," Santana complimented from the corner of the room. "Can we take a break now?"
Quinn dropped the notebook and glared at her, shifting hair out of her face. "What are you taking a break from? Breathing? That might actually be a little more productive for us."
"Screw you. I painted my nails, did my own homework, and sent Brittany some dirty texts. I got a lot accomplished."
Brittany excused herself from the conversation to check her cell phone. With a newly formed blush, she caught Santana's eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Santana shifted her stare from Quinn to Brittany quickly with a smirk, but then went right back.
"Relax, Q," Santana said, crossing her arms. "You'll pop a stitch or something."
Quinn shook her head. "Nice try, but the stitches dissolved a couple of weeks ago, genius." Instead of turning to Brittany with new questions, she simply dropped her book and got as comfortable as she could against the back of her bed. "We can take a break. I don't think I have much choice in the matter anyway."
The chair creaked under Santana as she leant backwards, tipping the legs off the ground. "Mm, I can't wait to leave tomorrow."
Brittany rolled onto her back. "I wish you could come, Q."
Quinn laughed. "I have a hard enough time getting around my house still. I don't need to be an inconvenience in another state. You two will have fun out there. Just take a bunch of pictures for me to see."
"We will. If we're not too busy," Santana teased. She and Quinn made faces at each other.
Brittany was excited. She'd never been past the middle of the United States, even for their Cheerleading competitions, and flying completely cross-country felt exhilarating. The idea of checking out where she and Santana could be living for the next four—or more—years of their lives made her even more excited. That added with the prospect of spending three days with Santana and their mothers, she was set.
"Do you think we'll like the schools?"
"Probably," Santana said. "They seem pretty tailored to what we wanted, so how bad could they be?"
"Unless you get gross roommates," Quinn joked, snarling her lip. "Someone who doesn't shower or brush their teeth!"
Brittany gagged, imagining a roommate like that. "There aren't people really like that, are there?"
"She's just trying to mess with us because she's afraid of all the nerdy chicks she'll meet at Yale. Girls with no style or social sophistication. Basically, a few more Rachels."
Quinn launched a pillow across the room and it hit Santana square in the face. "Shut up."
"Bite me," Santana growled, throwing the pillow back. It hit Quinn in her hurt shoulder and Brittany flinched.
"Stop," she demanded.
They both put their hands up in surrender and smiled at Brittany. She returned it to both of them and rolled onto her back. In just twenty-four hours they'd be eating dinner in Los Angeles, planning trips to their respective schools, and discovering the new path they'd head down when school was over. That realization made her nervous, but in a good way. She felt that they were finally moving on with their lives; high school would soon be a thing they joked about in passing conversations with one another. Whenever they could get the chance, or more specifically, when they and Quinn could get a chance.
A week earlier, Brittany had coaxed Santana into having a conversation about the distance between her and Quinn. It was part of her mission of making sure the two of them remained friends, even on opposite sides of the country. Brittany didn't worry much about that herself, knowing Quinn would be somehow in contact with her for the rest of her natural life, but she didn't want Santana to make the mistake of letting their friendship fall between the cracks. A preschool relationship that had managed to last fourteen years wasn't worth throwing away, in her opinion, and she tried to distinguish Santana's feelings about the whole situation.
Unfortunately that conversation hadn't gone the way she'd anticipated.
Santana was across Brittany's bedroom, checking her email. Brittany decided not to hover around her while she started asking questions that she knew were going to make Santana upset and fell backwards on her bed.
"Do you know the time difference between Connecticut and California?" she asked, hoping Santana knew the answer.
In a timely fashion, she answered, "New Haven is three hours ahead. Why?"
Brittany smiled. "How did you know that?"
She could practically hear Santana hesitate. "Uh, I looked it up."
"When?"
"When Quinn said Yale," Santana confessed. She swiveled around in the chair to face her. "About five minutes after she told us in the coffee shop."
Brittany sat up and fell forward onto her stomach. She propped herself up with one fist digging into her chin, her arm on the bed. "Are you going to be okay with the distance?"
Santana shrugged and turned back around in the chair, picking at her ponytail. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."
"But don't you think it's going to be harder?"
Santana groaned and sighed in tandem. "Of course it will be. But she'll be there and we'll be somewhere else and that's that. We can't push the states closer together."
Brittany could tell from the sallow tone of her voice that Santana had given it more thought than she'd let on. There was a penchant longing in each word, a distant apprehension for the idea of being separated from Quinn. Brittany understood but she wanted Santana to admit more, to express a bigger discomfort than what she showed.
"Do you think she's upset about it," she asked.
Santana shrugged again and twisted her neck from side to side. It made a sickly cracking noise that floated across the room and Brittany flinched.
"Santana…"
"Brittany?"
"Talk to me."
Santana turned around again and laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. "I am talking."
"You're de…deflecting. Yeah, deflecting!"
Santana furrowed her brow with a timid little smile that forced her cheeks up.
Brittany explained, "Rachel taught it to me."
"Another reason to stifle the midget," Santana mumbled to herself, staring at the ground to avoid her gaze.
"C'mon. I know you have to be feeling something about it, S. Why won't you just tell me?"
"Because."
Brittany let out a breathy laugh. "That's not an answer!"
"I don't want to talk about it, Brittany! Ask me when schools over. Not now. I can't," she breathed in and out, "handle thinking about that right now."
"It's okay if you're going to miss her, Santan—"
"Brittany?"
She tilted her head up in acknowledgement.
"Please. Not right now?"
That ended the conversation almost as quick as it started.
It wasn't a secret that Brittany was going to miss Quinn, so she didn't understand why Santana had to make it a secret that she would. Or maybe she didn't know her girlfriend as well as she thought she did and Santana wasn't going to miss Quinn. She quickly dismissed that idea for nothing short of false and shook her head to herself subtly. Outside of each other, Quinn had been both of their go-to friends, especially when they couldn't talk to each other. The absence of her from her life and from Santana's was going to be a hard hit and she could sense they both knew that.
"Quinn," Brittany said, obtaining her attention. "Do you know if you're coming home for Thanksgiving?" She took in Santana's whole body tensing from across the room.
Quinn tucked her lips in her mouth. "Maybe. I think so."
Brittany turned to Santana. "Are we?"
Santana didn't catch her gaze and shrugged. "I don't know. It's April. We don't even know what the breaks are yet."
"Yeah, but you have to have an idea of whether or not you're coming home," Quinn said.
Brittany was startled to hear Santana's tone perfectly echoed in Quinn's voice. The question of whether or not they were going to miss each other had been revealed in one expertly interpreted question. She was happy to have paid that much attention to that conversation she had with Santana the week before.
Santana glanced from Quinn to Brittany in an effort to detect if she had heard the same lilt in Quinn's voice that she had. When their eyes met, Brittany watched the realization dawn on her and the instantaneous effort to hide it. Again, she was confused.
"It depends on money, Q," Santana said firmly. "Right?"
"Mhm," Brittany said with a smirk.
"So I'll see you at Thanksgiving right," Quinn asked again, a more solid inquiry that seemed to push Santana over an edge of sorts.
"We'll find out, Quinn. It's not something we need to have down right this minute. We're seeing each other now, so why does something nine months from now matter?"
With an obvious teasing curve of her lips, Quinn murmured, "A lot can change in nine months."
Brittany laughed explosively and was happy to see Quinn laughing in kind, the two of them leaving Santana behind in their joke. She didn't seem joyful, but pretty pissed off. Their fun died off into a quiet chuckle, then ceased into complete silence.
"What," Quinn asked seriously.
"Funny." Santana glowered.
"You're not laughing," Brittany said, trying to settle her down.
"Clearly," she retorted, scowling at the ground.
"Look, S," Quinn said, "We'll see each other when we do. There's a ton of technology that helps nowadays. Skype, cell phones, we pretty much aren't even being separated."
Santana sighed deliberately, Brittany guessed, trying to signify that she didn't want to continue the conversation, much like she hadn't before. "Time will tell," she said resolutely.
Brittany nodded apprehensively and gave Quinn a drained smile. She didn't want them to fight again, over something as simple as when they would see each other. But the more often Santana didn't want to talk about it, the more she started to think it wasn't so simple.
"Anyways," Quinn said, "I'm sure we'll still be in contact. For Brittany's sake at least."
Brittany frowned at her. "Why?" She had Santana's undivided attention also.
"Well I, for one, know that Santana can't possibly tutor you as well as I can." She stuck her tongue out at Santana and she flipped her off. "So there's always that," she finished.
Santana shook her head and jokingly muttered, "Fuck you, Fabray."
The abrupt gentle knocking and rush opening of Quinn's bedroom door caught them all off guard as Rachel entered, holding a plate of brownies. She took in the capacity of the room and gave them each a frown, settling on Quinn's shocked appearance last.
"Are you all hanging out," she asked in a small, disappointed voice. Brittany wanted to get up and hug her; mostly because then she could grab a brownie. She caught Santana licking her lips and suspected they were on a similar wavelength, minus the hugging part.
"I-I'm tutoring Brittany," Quinn clarified, pushing up to realign her legs, moving the casts the best she could. Brittany noticed that Quinn seemed immediately more on edge, more aware of her demeanor the second Rachel was in the room. Nothing had changed for the two of them.
Rachel positioned the plate in one hand and planted the other one on her hip. "Then why is Santana here?"
"Supervising," Santana elaborated swiftly. "What kind of brownies are those?"
Rachel ignored her. "Supervising what, Quinn?"
Quinn glanced around her room, looking for someone to throw her a life preserver. Brittany felt compelled to help.
"Quinn and I almost kissed the day before Valentine's Day so Santana insisted on coming to hang out for tutoring sessions."
The way Quinn, Santana, and Rachel's mouths fell open told her she might not have helped anyone. She internally scolded herself for the mistake.
"Is that the only time it's happened," Rachel asked cordially.
When no one answered, Brittany tried for redemption. "Nope. We kissed freshman year too."
"Brittany," Santana exclaimed. "Now might not be a good time to—"
Rachel's lips quirked into a smile and she stared at them. "Why not? We weren't together."
There was a collective sigh around the room and Brittany turned her scolding into a mental pat on the back. She knew she had the potential to help.
"I mean I kissed Quinn freshman year," Rachel said. "You don't see me apologizing for it." They all smiled at each other, content that nothing really had changed. "Well, actually, I did kiss Brittany too so there's that."
Santana's head whipped to the side and she stared at Brittany. "What the hell, Britt?"
"Thanks a lot, Rachel," Brittany said. She groaned, turning to Santana, catching the frown on Quinn's face as she went. "It was a middle school truth or dare in eighth grade, S."
"Oh yeah," Quinn acknowledged under her breath.
"Where the hell was I," Santana demanded to know. She wasn't as seething as Brittany expected her to be.
"Sick with mono," Rachel said confidently. "That's the only reason I was allowed at the party. That and Quinn wasn't there either." The two of them shared a brief smile of contentment.
"How the hell did you know," Santana accused Quinn, glaring across the room.
Quinn bowed her head and Brittany saw her ears turn pink. "I had spies as much back then as I did freshman and sophomore year, S. Rachel was on my 'priority' list."
Brittany chuckled at seeing the delight on Rachel's face.
"So basically everyone here's kissed each other besides me and Berry and me and Quinn?" Everyone nodded and Santana rolled her eyes. "That's fucked up."
"Would it ease your discomfort if we were all," Rachel averted her eyes to conjure the appropriate word, "experienced in that way with one another?"
Brittany laughed as Santana made a show of gagging. Instead of looking at Rachel, Santana turned to her. "If I ever, ever, succumb to letting Berry kiss me, just take me out back and deliver a sweet bullet between my eyes." She pointed above the bridge of her nose. "Right here," she whispered conspiratorially.
Brittany nodded comfortingly. "Whatever you want, babe."
"So why wasn't I invited," Rachel asked, pulling all of Quinn's attention.
"To?"
"This," Rachel insisted, throwing her free arm around.
"It wasn't a big deal," Quinn explained. "Just tutoring. I didn't think you'd want to come…"
"Of course I'd want to come. We're all friends, right?" The shy glance Rachel delivered in Santana's direction didn't go unnoticed by Brittany.
"Christ," Santana said, ignoring Quinn's chastisement. "Will you shut up and just get in here? Maybe you'll be some fun while the wonder twins work on homework."
Brittany stood up and crossed the room, laughing. She grabbed the plate from Rachel's hands and used her opposite one to shove her further across the bedroom towards the armchair in the corner near Santana. "You're just saying that so we can have her brownies," Brittany told Santana, kicking the door shut.
"Is that a euphemism," Rachel asked worriedly.
"Not a fucking chance, Berry," Santana teased, signaling for Brittany to bring the food closer to her.
Brittany happily crossed the room, ignoring Quinn's pleasant smile and Rachel's flooding relief, to prop herself in Santana's lap and offer her a brownie. She loved being together with all of them. Quinn and Rachel might not have figured everything between them out yet, but as far as she cared, they were all friends. For the rest of her life, she would have these girls to rely on. That's what mattered to her. And all she wanted to do was spend as much time with them as possible before they wouldn't have the opportunity anymore.
Even if they wouldn't get any more studying done.
Packed into the car at four in the morning, Brittany and Santana regretted making an attempt to sleep. In their foggy haze, they climbed from bed to car, from car to terminal, and from terminal to their six-fifty flight into Dallas for their first stopover. Both of them managed to sever ties with consciousness for the majority of the car ride and that flight. Their moms ushered them into their seats and then promptly allowed themselves to fall asleep right alongside their daughters.
In Dallas, Texas, Santana was the first one awake on the tarmac in a panic. Flying hadn't been a particularly regular occurrence in her life, but she was also in no way a newbie. Even so, she found descent much more intimidating than take-off, and landing an excruciatingly nail-biting process. Outside the window, the first signs of sunlight rose in the sky as they fell, giving her the unmistakable feeling of sinking. She was glad Brittany had sprung for the window seat and she wasn't left to deal with the uninhibited view on her own. Flying didn't scare her, but landing did. Before she had much chance to let the decline disagree with her stomach, Brittany's eyes fluttered open hazily, and she sat forward, blocking the view.
"Hey," she said in a dazed, dreamy voice. She stared at Santana as if she hadn't seen her in ages and it made Santana's fingers tingle enough to keep her mind off the churning deep in the pit of her belly.
"Hi," Santana said, leaning up to cup Brittany's face, sealing her greeting with a warm kiss. Brittany kissed back sweetly, not yet having much control of her actions. The bare pressing of lips seemed to wake her up though, because when Santana pulled away, her blue eyes were alight with joy.
"Are we there," she promptly asked. The urgency made Santana quickly reevaluate the question.
Santana shook her head. "Dallas, babe. Then Phoenix, then Burbank."
"Burbank is in California, right," Brittany asked.
The wheels touched down and Santana's attention shot out the windows, startled because Brittany had distracted her enough to not worry about the landing. When she turned back, she saw Brittany grinning.
"What," Santana asked.
Brittany lowered her eyes coyly. "I should have kissed you last year, I guess." When Santana didn't say anything back, just as the captain made an announcement over the intercom that woke up Maria and Anna, she continued, "I watched you freak out last year on the plane and I didn't know what to do to keep your mind off the landing."
Santana remembered waking up last year the same way she had a few minutes ago; scared and alone, she stared out the window, unsure of whether or not they'd make the landing smoothly. Brittany wasn't awake, or so she suspected, and there wasn't an unkind bone in her body that would have told her to wake the girl up to keep her comfort.
"Isn't that sweet," Anna mumbled, first stirring with a grunt and then a smirk when her eyes popped open. They were a rich navy that Brittany's weren't, although similar in shape.
Santana smirked herself and titled her head to the side. "I thought we left Tony in Dayton," she said, putting a finger to her chin. "It seems his snark followed us across the country."
Brittany caught Maria's smirk, her eyes still shut tight, as her mom turned fully towards Santana. "Someone has to preserve his memory."
"I'll never escape it," Santana groaned.
"Believe me," her mom said, sitting forward for the first time, brushing out her purple blouse. "Not being a part of that family, you won't."
"I thought we were all a family," Brittany teased, winking at Santana's mom.
"Yeah," Santana agreed. "That means you don't escape it either!"
"True, sweetie, but I'm not Anthony's target," her mom said, laughing. Anna turned to her and gave her a solid high-five.
"They're all against me," Santana said to Brittany, dropping her face in her hands.
Brittany ran a hand through the waves of Santana's hair and rubbed her back across the orange-striped tanktop with false sentimentality—she was sharing a hidden smile with their mothers. "I know, baby, I'm sorry."
They found a Sbarro in the food court and each munched on a piece of pizza, even after Anna disagreed that the grease would upset her stomach. Brittany pelted her mother with pieces of crust until she gave up and crossed the tile floor to buy her own slice. After, they shuffled back into the next airplane on their way to Phoenix, for the second—and last—stop before they'd land in the Burbank airport.
Brittany and Santana were very much awake for the second third of the trip, playing cards across the small tray in front of them. It was at that time that Santana wished she could have used some of her own funds for the planning, like she had on their cruise, to secure them their own seats in first class. Coach wasn't doing much for her in the ways of comfort. Even after travelling on shoddy under-regulation type-B model airplanes with the Cheerio's, being cramped in between a guy snoring and a woman chatting to the man next to her, who they'd both decided she didn't actually know, was the worst of the worst. Brittany had to keep reminding her they only had two more hours before they'd be on the next plane, closer to no plane at all.
While Brittany reminded her of that, Santana did her part in reminding Brittany that they weren't travelling without parental supervision, like they had on the glee trip to New York (because honestly, Mr. Schuester could not even understand the word supervision, let alone practice it). In simpler terms, she had to stop advances that being made underneath the wool blanket covering their short-clad legs. The excuse that they were cold had barely convinced Anna that they needed covers in the first place, but Brittany decided that trying to see how much she could get away with would be a fun way to entertain herself.
She was pretty enamored watching Santana's cheeks redden every few minutes that she swiped her fingers between her legs when the girl let down her defenses. She bit her lip just a little bit harder when Santana's eyes flitted closed, almost negating the protests whispered under her breath. It's not like her mom could tell what was happening; Brittany kept her attention into the card game and no one suspected a thing. Maria and Anna chatted about where they would go to dinner that night—agreeing on somewhere close to the hotel—completely oblivious to where her fingers were, taking a break on the waistband of Santana's shorts.
"Please," Santana whispered.
"Please what," she mumbled back, setting her cards down on her lap and pulling one from the deck.
"Stop," Santana whined.
Brittany's fingers went south again, this time under the shorts to brush against lace on her path. Santana's hips bucked and she pulled her hand out of the tight material. She grabbed a card with that hand and handed it to Santana. "Do you have any sixes?"
Brittany's kiss of distraction had morphed into a full on make out session while they landed in Phoenix. Anna had to literally smack Brittany on the leg to stop them and they both turned with flushed faces, Brittany's a lot more innocent than Santana's.
"I was distracting her from the landing," Brittany effused, trying to distill any sense of modesty from her puffy lips.
Maria was giving them a death glare over Anna's shoulder. "I think you did a good job of distracting everyone on the plane, Brittany," she argued.
"Pssh," Santana said, mussing her hair up, "they can't even see us."
"She didn't say see, Santana," Anna told her.
Instantly she flushed even pinker, remembering that she had let out a few tasteless moans. Damn it, she thought, suddenly embarrassed. She even thought she saw the man's eyes in front of her peeking through the divide in the seats. With a swift punch to the back of the seat, she watched him shoot up and sit stock-still in his chair.
She expected their moms to be laughing, but they actually looked more irritated than anything.
Even with the air-conditioning inside the building, the Phoenix airport still found a way of being obscenely muggy. If they weren't surrounded by a mixed group of fellow passengers, Santana and Brittany probably would have stripped right there. Even Anna protested the heat, pulling her shirt up to mid stomach. They all laughed as she let her belly hang out, shiny white skin, colorless from a lack of sun exposure. After enough teasing and a few delicate jabs from Brittany, Anna tucked her shirt back into her cargo pants.
Santana wanted to leave and find something to eat, but her mom wouldn't let her go anywhere because the next plane was already readying outside the gate. Her stomach was growling though, so she meticulously searched to find a snack machine. Even when the first class started loading on the new plane, she continued to look for anything to eat. About a hundred feet from the gate, she found Brittany with her back turned standing in front of a vending machine.
She approached quickly, casting a glance backwards to see their moms standing there, annoyed.
"What are you doing," she asked.
Brittany reached down into the bottom and pulled out a pack of cookies. She turned, giving Santana a view of the fruit snacks she held in the other hand, and gave her the cookies. "Getting you food," she proclaimed, linking her arm through Santana's and tugging her away.
Santana scratched her head. "I didn't even see you leave."
"That's because you were already gone when I left," Brittany teased, grabbing her backpack from the floor where they had been sitting.
Santana grabbed hers and laughed. "How'd you find it faster than me?"
Brittany pointed towards the wall where they just were and for the first time, Santana saw the overhead sign, with an arrow, reading 'SNACKS.'
"Wow," Santana said. She almost slapped herself in the face.
"Come on, genius," Brittany teased, leading Santana past their moms.
Santana groaned. "You sound like Quinn."
"Did she follow us too then?" Brittany asked, laughing. Santana just groaned again.
The seats on the plane to Burbank were surprisingly more comfortable than any of the ones they'd been on that day. They also were confused to see that a lot of the passengers they'd been travelling with had dispersed in Dallas and Phoenix. In addition to that, not a lot of new people had gotten on in Phoenix, which left a lot of empty seats around them.
A woman behind them confronted a flight attendant about it after twenty minutes of being in the air. She wanted to know the reason for the absence of bodies, citing a possible problem with the airline for the lack of interest in travelling on the plane. The stewardess, frazzled and tired as indicated from her appearance, answered in the negative, claiming there weren't a vast amount of people travelling at that point in the season and it was common for a few of the planes to be short-numbered. Apparently accepting that answer for plausible, another passenger asked about moving seats, considering "no one new would be getting on anytime soon." The flight attendant smiled and said she'd ask the captain, forcing her way through the aisles to the front of the plane.
Anna and Maria had been listening to the conversation too, asking that if they were allowed to move, would Brittany and Santana want them to.
"Hell yes," Santana abruptly said, wanting nothing more than to be separated from her mom after sitting next to her for most of the day. Especially after Brittany's touch-teasing had started round two not five minutes before.
Brittany interjected, more nicely, "It'll be nice to get some room between us, right?"
Anna nodded and double-checked with Maria who simply agreed with a wave of her hand. "Whatever."
Ten minutes later the captain announced that due to the availability of seats, passengers were allowed to move as long as they were respectful of the other people around them. Also, much to Santana's dismay, moving between class dividers was prohibited. But still, Maria and Anna found seats across the aisle way, leaving the girls in their line of vision but a reasonable distance away to give them some space, so she couldn't complain all that much.
Santana tossed her and Brittany's bags up on the empty seats to give the two of them more leg room and settled back into her seat. Brittany cozied-up to her across the arm rest, tossing her jacket back over Santana's lap. They hadn't gotten a new blanket on the plane, considering they had been complaining about how hot they were in the Phoenix terminal, and she knew what Brittany wanted to try again.
That wouldn't have been suspicious at all, Santana thought, throwing her arm into Brittany's lap to hold her hand. She knew what the point of the jacket was, but she still had a little voice in her head that said to cool it after what happened when they landed the time before that. If kissing had tossed her decency out the window, there wasn't much hope in keeping it with Brittany's fingers in her shorts.
Brittany glanced up at her in confusion when she took her hand, not understanding the hindrance. "What are you doing?"
Santana leant forward to kiss Brittany on the forehead. "Stopping us from getting in trouble."
Brittany's mouth fell into a pout. With spending all night at Quinn's to hang out the day before, they hadn't had much of an opportunity to mess around. It'd been essentially thirty-six hours of pure teasing, absolutely no pleasing. I'm pretty sure that mantra was to stop you from having sex, not other people, Brittany thought, irritated. When she remembered Quinn was her friend who had just gotten into a car wreck, she quickly took her thought back.
Santana kissed her fully, lingering in the air between them afterwards. "Some time this weekend we'll sneak away."
"Promise," Brittany asked quietly, lifting her pinkie in the air. Santana took it in hers and squeezed.
"Promise," she said.
They settled into each other, content to nap for the rest of the trip. Well, Santana was content, Brittany still felt like squirming under her pressure. They'd had sex on a plane before, why couldn't they do it again?
The memory of last year popped into her head and a light bulb went off. Puck caught them last year and then they moved it to somewhere more private. That's how they did it, and if she were lucky, they'd do it again.
With Santana perched on her shoulder, she leaned down and whispered in her ear, barely letting her lips graze the shell, "Wanna go to the bathroom?"
Santana turned, brushing her nose involuntarily off Brittany's shoulder. "Britt…" She peered up into cool eyes transfixed on her mouth.
"Santana…"
Santana chuckled, hoisting herself up and off Brittany's shoulder. "You're a terrible influence."
"Is that a yes?"
Santana rolled her head to the side and glanced at Anna and Maria, who were engaged in a conversation she couldn't make out. Maria broke away for a second to smile at her and wave childishly, teasing her daughter. She rolled her eyes and glanced back to Brittany. "Sure. You go first?"
Brittany nodded excitedly and kissed Santana on the lips. "See you in five."
"See you in two," Santana said seriously.
Brittany hopped up and crossed in front of Santana, dragging their knees together as she passed. She winked as she made her way out of the row and went towards the bathroom. Santana watched her go and found Anna glancing between them with interest.
Inconspicuously, Santana rifled through one of her bags to divert attention.
Brittany was already halfway to the bathroom when her heart started beating erratically. Even though it was kind of creepy, there was a certain thrill in meeting up on the plane while their moms were within a hundred feet. She didn't want to get caught or anything, but just the thought of them being there was enough to excite her.
The first door she got to was occupied, so she slipped into the second, pulling the door shut behind her. She hoped Santana wouldn't accidentally go to the wrong one, or whoever was in that one would be gone by then; with two minutes being the time allotted between seeing each other that might not have been a possibility though.
Brittany checked her appearance in the mirror, straightening out hair that had become frizzy after pressing into a chair all day. She adjusted her tanktop, smoothing out the wrinkles, and brushed off the lint from her jean shorts. Altering her appearance was only to pass the time; she was sure clothing would be last thing on Santana's mind when she got there.
A gentle tapping on the door alerted her attention and she grinned at her reflection in the mirror, her heart beating thick in her chest. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.
On the opposite side of the entrance, somehow smirking and scowling at the same time, stood her mother with crossed arms and rosy cheeks. She seemed just as embarrassed as Brittany felt.
"Not who you were expecting," Anna asked in a dry tone.
Brittany felt the color drain from her face and let out a cough. "Um…"
"Go back to your seat, sweetie," Anna told her, moving from her path. Brittany urgently went past her, face no longer colorless, but bright red and burning. A few of the other passengers glance up at her and Anna, making her even more flustered. She just wanted to sit down and pass out.
When she got back to her seat, she saw Santana had moved seats, staring out the window, fingers tapping nervously against her leg. Brittany chanced a look at Maria and found her glaringly smiling, shaking her head at the both of them. Her cheeks got somehow hotter and she dropped quickly into the seat next to Santana.
While Brittany was gone, Santana had watched Anna get up with an exhausted expression on her face. She didn't even have to wait for her mother to move across the aisle and sit down next to her before she knew they were caught.
"I understand you are eighteen years old, mija, but try to have a little modesty. Or subtlety."
Her face felt like it was on fire and she held it in her hands. "I told her we'd get caught."
Maria laughed in a bone-chillingly, non-humorous way. "You were better off under the blanket."
Santana could have puked from embarrassment. "Mama, please go away."
"I think we've reached an understanding," Maria said, the teasing back in her voice.
Santana took refuge in the blue sky outside her window, using it as a buffer from her mother's judgmental smirk. After a minute or two, she felt Brittany plop down into the seat next to her.
"Some time this weekend," Brittany asked hopefully.
Santana shook her head, still gazing out the window. "Some time this weekend."
Outside of Burbank Airport, Maria talked anxiously on her cell phone to find out where their driver was. Santana had to comfort Brittany after the stepped off the plane and there wasn't anybody standing there with a sign with any of their names on it like in the movies, while Anna had to keep Maria from exploding on anyone who came within a foot of her because of how mad she had been when the car hadn't been there waiting for them. She kept growling about the price she paid in the first place, and how little he or she would receive as a tip for keeping them held up.
Santana held Brittany from behind as they waited for the driver to get there and they admired their first view of the city. The rush of cars from every direction reminded them both of New York City, only the cars were moving much faster and not honking incessantly at each other. The air was cooler than they were used to, less humid than it had been in Dayton that morning when they woke up, and very dry. Brittany expected it to feel sticky because of how high the sun was above them, but she found the temperature wasn't anywhere near where she expected.
"Don't be fooled," Santana teased when she commented on it. "The one day we were here it got miserably hot after it felt like this. It screws with you almost as much as Ohio does."
"Is it gonna rain," Brittany asked. In Lima they could expect snow in the same week as eighty degree temperatures.
Anna took a break from Maria to join them. "There's not a ton of rain. This year they got a lot more than usual, but it feels like it'll be okay this weekend."
Maria added in a still agitated voice, "It will be I checked the forecast before we left."
Anna laughed. "Well there you have it. You know the forecast is never wrong." The two of them exchanged a scowling match, Maria winning gloriously.
Brittany looked back out into the street and watched the people move. She didn't have much to compare it to besides what she'd seen in New York or Florida, but these people seemed pretty unaware of each other. Everyone kind of moved around in their own world or with their companions in complete indifference. They didn't look mean, but they didn't look interested. She liked that.
Twenty minutes later, their driver, a petite brunette woman by the name of Carlene, pulled to the curb in front of them. Anna, Santana, and Brittany squished into the backseat trying to ignore the sounds of Maria arguing with the woman behind the car putting their bags into the trunk. Santana was surprised by her own lack of enthusiasm to hear the conversation; she was a girl who used to love listening to Coach Sylvester tear down other girls every chance she got, but hearing her mom go off on some insubordinate woman didn't give her a thrill anymore. She actually felt a little guilty.
A half hour later, they were in front of the Loews Hollywood Hotel, a former resort and spa. They all grabbed their bags from the back of the car and stood in front, admiring the grand stature of the building. Brittany became very excited when she saw the pool off the side of the building, nudging Santana and pointing rapidly.
They started their trek inside and were amazed by the inside of the hotel. Bright colors assaulted them from every direction, a giant mosaic of oval designs crafted together to form one gigantic piece of art across the wall above the check-in desks. The lobby had areas set up with funky couches, chairs, and plants spread out across the sleek white surface of the floor and around a square column as they walked towards the front desk, they noticed a large painting of Marilyn Monroe overlooking the rest of the entrance. Santana and Brittany were in awe of their surroundings, pleased that they weren't in some grimy, dimly-lit motel somewhere.
Maria stepped up to the desk and presented her credit card to the attendant standing there. "Hello, we're checking in."
"Alright, and the name on the reservation is," the guy, bright-eyed and young, asked her with a perfect smile.
"Pierce/Lopez," Maria told him, smiling. It was a stark contrast to how she had treated the woman driving them there, Brittany noticed.
He typed their name into the computer and then nodded towards the screen. "Alright, you have one Superior Room with two double-beds, one bathroom. Is that right?"
"Sounds about," Anna joked, provoking a laugh from their attendant.
"Wonderful." He reached below his waist and pulled out two keycards, handing them both to Maria. "These are your keys, both have been pre-activated and should work with a simple swipe through. If you have any trouble, just bring them back down here to me and we'll get it sorted out. You're room is on the sixth floor; just go up these stairs to your left," he pointed past them, "and take any of the elevators. Your room is two sixty-eight, about halfway down the hallway. Any questions?"
Santana chuckled when she saw Brittany shake her head along with Maria and Anna. She linked their arms and tugged Brittany backwards, kissing her on the cheek. "Dork," she mumbled.
"Alright," he said. "Oh, also, my name is Dwight. If you need help with absolutely anything, call down to the front office and ask for me." He smiled. "Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you," they all muttered in one way or another, readjusting their bags as they moved towards the steps.
They made their way into the elevator and quickly were transported up to the sixth floor without having to stop for any other people to get on. The doors opened up into a long yellow hallway with a thirty or so doors split from one direction to the other. Each had a pair across the hallway, two doors for every twenty feet. Each door had a similar color, almost aquamarine, that caught Brittany's eye. If she ever had the opportunity to paint another bedroom in her life, she decided it would be that color.
Santana thought the hallway looked like a beach, only brighter and more offensive to the eye. She hope their room wasn't those colors, and was rewarded when room two sixty-eight opened up to reveal an amber color scheme. The carpet was a similar blue to door, but the rest of the room was very calm and normal. The two beds were both simple, white blankets and tan pillowcases. She ended her examination by falling face forward into the first bed.
Into the mattress, she demanded, "Dibs!"
She heard Brittany's laughter and then a depression into the bed next to her. "Ugh, it's so comfy."
Santana propped her head up on her hand and watched her mom and Anna fall on the other bed more cordially than the two of them did, both shutting their eyes into the comfort of their mattress.
With her eyes still shut, Maria asked in a dreamy voice, "I'd like to take a nap for an hour or two and then we can go eat. Is that fine with the rest of you?"
There was a chorus of agreement and then Brittany asked, "Where are we eating?"
Anna mumbled, seemingly almost asleep, "Whatever's close…"
Brittany nodded, finding Santana's head had fallen back on the bed, her eyes drifting shut. "Do you want to nap and then go explore the hotel?"
"Mhm," Santana said, pulling herself farther up on the pillow. "Sleep first?"
Brittany giggled. "Sure."
The two of them made themselves comfortable on top of the covers and Brittany cuddled Santana from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist. She rested her nose in wavy locks of dark hair and kissed her gently on the neck inaudibly to save them from more parental grief.
Brittany was content to fall asleep for as long as Santana wanted. She was simply happy to have finally made it there, and to be there with her girlfriend.
Around five o' clock, Brittany woke up to her mom moving around the room in a flurry. Her hair was freshly blown-dry and her makeup almost finished. She rolled away from Santana's warm back where she had stayed for the entirety of the nap and got up into a seated position.
Anna noticed her stretching and gave her a quick smile while she applied mascara. "Hey, sweetie. Sleep well?"
"Mm, yeah," Brittany said, scratching at her eyes. "Where's Santana's mom?"
"Bathroom. Getting ready. We were about to wake the two of you up."
"Oh," Brittany said. It didn't seem like they'd have time to search the hotel, but she wasn't worried. They had plenty of time that weekend to look around.
"Wake Santana up, we're leaving in a little bit."
Brittany bit her lip in thought and nodded absently. She wondered how much time they'd have to spend together tomorrow. Their afternoons were pretty much booked solid with her audition and Santana's tour. She knew they'd spend dinner together, but a whole day apart didn't sound fun.
"Brittany."
Brittany glanced up and came out of her haze. "Yeah, sorry." She flipped around on the bed to her stomach and scooted closer to Santana. With two fingers, she poked Santana hard in the side and woke her up. "Babe, get up. We're going to dinner."
Santana yawned as she rolled over on her back. "Lovely way to wake up," she said sarcastically.
She didn't seem tired so Brittany frowned at her. "Have you been awake?"
"Just for a few minutes."
"How many?"
"Thirty," Santana said with a teasing grin.
Brittany gasped and slapped her arm. "Why didn't you get up, lazy? We could have gone for a walk or something!"
Santana dug her head backwards into the bed, closing her eyes. "I was so comfortable."
Ignoring the 'aw' she heard from her mom, Brittany slapped Santana again. "Ow, abuse," Santana complained.
Brittany shoved her. "I'll show you abuse."
Maria's voice cut them off as she exited the bathroom, toiletry bag tight in her grip, "Show her abuse later, I'm hungry."
"Ditto," Anna said, finishing up her makeup.
Santana and Brittany climbed out of bed, finding their bags and picking outfits for dinner. They didn't know where they were going, so casual versus formal was a bit of a struggle. Gauging from their parent's attire, they assumed casual—Brittany grabbed a green halter-top dress and flip-flops, Santana chose jean shorts and a white, sleeveless blouse—and Brittany set off to change first in the bathroom.
"So did you see where we could go?" she asked Anna and Maria.
They both shrugged and turned to each other. "What's in walking distance," Anna stated. Maria agreed with a determined nod and packed her suitcase back up, shuffling it to the corner.
"That sounds promising," Santana muttered under breath.
xx
"Hooters," Santana exclaimed, turning to her mother, who had gone quiet within the last five minutes. "This is the closest thing to the hotel? Really? Really?"
"Is the food bad here or something," Brittany asked obliviously. Santana didn't know whether she was messing with them or if she really didn't know. Sometimes she made it really hard to tell.
"No, the food is quite good most of the time," Anna said in a timid voice.
"Yup, the food. That's what we're all concerned about."
"Santana, enough," Maria silenced her daughter with a cold frown. "Modesty, remember?"
"I don' think it's my modesty we have to be worried about…"
At that moment, a girl that had to be in her early-twenties walked in front of them with menus in her hand. "Welcome to Hooters, my name is Lisa. Table for four?"
"Do you have booths," Brittany asked with a dazed smile. Santana had to nudge her to stop her from staring. "Sorry," she whispered.
Lisa laughed and encouraged them to follow her. "Right this way." She led them through the room filled with people watching sports on the many TVs or watching the girls run around in their tiny shorts and tight t-shirts. Brittany noticed that there were a lot more couples than she expected to find in a restaurant with that kind of notoriety. She couldn't help but acknowledge if she and Santana had a date there she might have ended up fairly distracted.
In a populated area of the restaurant, Lisa sat them down in a booth where she and Santana took up one seat and Anna and Maria grabbed the other. Lisa deposited their menus and made sure they were comfortable, before saying, "Jenny will be right over to take your drink order. Enjoy your meal!"
"Thank you," Brittany said, a little too eagerly. Santana seriously considered slinging an arm around her shoulder simply to cover her mouth.
"Flirt with the waitresses some more and I'll develop a complex," she muttered, flipping open the menu.
"Aw, I'd never cheat on you with a waitress, or anyone," Brittany said, kissing her on the cheek. She dropped a hand to her leg and drew comforting circles around her skin, relaxing her by the second.
"So are you two excited about tomorrow," Anna asked, scanning her menu.
"Very," Brittany said, beaming.
"Did you finally perfect your audition routine," Maria asked. They'd all heard daily updates on the progress of her routine, an almost step by step description of what she'd tweaked or finally perfected. Santana had watched her and Rachel choreograph almost every step and was proud to see the final product. It was magnificent, as was Brittany's dancing always.
"Yup, Rachel and I went over it one more time at Quinn's last night."
"How is Quinn?"
Santana played with her hands in her lap. "She's good. The casts come off in three weeks and then she has rehab, but her shoulders pretty much healed."
"And they gave her some cream or something that completely got rid of the scar on her forehead. There's just a very light imprint now," Brittany added.
"That's wonderful. I was really worried about that girl," Anna said.
"We all were," Brittany said sadly. "That was so scary."
Maria shook her head. "When I got that call I was so scared. I thought the worst."
"Stop," Santana said. "She's alive; I don't want to talk about if she wasn't."
There was a thick tension at the table and Brittany squeezed her thigh. She understood the worry in Santana's outburst because she'd finally put it behind her two weeks later. Santana didn't seem to have managed that yet.
Another girl came up to their table and announced herself as Jenny, their waitress. They all ordered drinks and since they had enough time to browse the menu before she showed up, put in their dinner orders as well. The selection was interesting, a combo of wings and burgers, but they all found something that sounded well enough for their first meal. After a little while, their food arrived and they all settle into eating and talking about the next day.
When the discussion about dorms came up, Anna asked them, "There aren't any commuter dorms for the schools because they're so close, right? It won't be fun to not live with each other when you're so close." She glanced at Maria and they smiled at each other.
"Way to rub it in," Santana said, staring into her food. Brittany guessed Santana didn't notice the way they had just looked at each other and brushed it off.
"It's better than me being in Lima and her being here," she added as an afterthought.
"That wouldn't have ever been the case," Santana said. "It won't be even if this doesn't happen. We'll figure it—sorry…"
Brittany laughed and speared a tomato off of Santana's chicken salad. "I know what you mean."
"I'm glad the two of you are so optimistic," Anna said, a little sadly. They didn't have a hard time understanding why.
"We were talking and we want you two to understand something, regardless of whatever happens between you." They both perked up as Maria set down her drink and started what looked like an unexpected speech. "The two of you have grown up so quickly from those two little girls who we forced into having a play-date at the park."
"Or the girls who got sent home from the Fabray's for rearranging their refrigerator trying to find more food," Anna added with a smirk.
"We're incredibly proud of you, in light of recent events and with what happened back in November and the commercial, we are just so amazed at the strength the two of you have shown. And we wanted to tell you, that no matter what any of the counselors tell you tomorrow, we know you girls will pull through and end up together. Because we want you to be happy for as long as you want to be with one another. And we'll support whatever decision you make."
There was a long silence in which Brittany and Anna wiped away cascading tears. Santana bit her lip to stifle the emotions and shook her head at her mom. "You're so lame."
"Only because I love you. Both of you."
"Thank you guys," Brittany said, beaming at their moms.
All of a sudden, Jenny was back to check up on them. "How is everything?
Brittany's attention was turned and she beamed at their waitress. "Wonderful."
Jenny left and Santana gave Brittany a fake-glare. "Way to ruin the mood, perv."
Anna and Maria were both smiling at each other and Santana gave Brittany's hand on her leg a squeeze. It was weird for her to think that here is where her life ended up, with Brittany in California getting ready to explore their futures, their moms on the opposite side of the table telling them how proud and supportive they were of her relationship. Telling them something like that was dumb to do on a Friday night while they were on vacation; she just wanted her food, not a sappy inspirational pep talk. But that didn't mean it went unappreciated.
On the walk back to the hotel, Brittany and Santana held each other very close as they stayed a few feet behind Maria and Anna. Their inner arms were wrapped around each other, their fingers laced together tight. Santana had her head on Brittany's shoulder, hindering their steps in just the slightest bit.
"Are you nervous for tomorrow," she asked into the air in front of them. The night street was lit up with lights and cars galore. Nightlife seemed inspiring and she couldn't help but fret for the time when she'd be able to live it all to the limits.
"Not really," Brittany murmured quietly. "About the dancing at least. My mom said we have to talk to an admissions counselor about my grades. That freaks me out a little bit."
"You don't have to worry about that," Santana said. "Just tell them the truth about all of the hard work you've been putting into raising all of those grades this year. Let them know you're serious about being there and you're doing whatever it takes. Just don't make excuses and piss them off, you know?"
Brittany nuzzled Santana's head and kissed her temple. "You're so much smarter than me."
"We both know I have a tendency to act like an idiot sometimes," Santana teased truthfully.
"That's true…"
"Hey!" Santana tugged away from her.
"You said it," Brittany exclaimed, pulling Santana close again. "I'm just agreeing."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Are you nervous?"
Santana shrugged into her, "Not really. Their website said I don't have to meet with anybody really. It's more of a self-guided tour. We just check in and then wander."
"That sounds awesome!"
Santana chuckled. "I'm sure it will be."
"I wish we could do it all together," Brittany said, remembering her longing from earlier that day.
"Me too," Santana said. "I wanna see your school."
"I just want to spend the day with you," Brittany admitted, kissing Santana's head again.
"We have all of Sunday to hang out, my mom said we're probably gonna visit the beach too. You're gonna love it there."
"Is it better than the beaches in Florida?"
"Much better," Santana told her, even though she had exactly one memory of their trip to Florida and it hadn't been pleasant. More along the lines of admiring Brittany in her bathing suit and then beating herself up about it for the rest of the trip.
"Good."
"It'll be great. I'm so happy we're here this weekend."
"Pretty soon we'll spend every weekend here," Brittany effused, giddily increasing her pace.
"And every weekday, and a bunch of holidays, and it's going to be so fun," Santana said, trying to keep up with Brittany. Her shorter legs weren't much of an advantage.
"Will you two hurry up," Anna called back. "I don't want to have to explain to your fathers about why we're coming back with no kids on Monday."
"Oh," Santana said, "you can totally leave us here. We don't mind."
Maria laughed back at them. "Sure. And then I'll cancel all your credit cards and we'll have the both of you emancipated."
"Sounds fun," Brittany said with a smirk than Maria stuck her tongue out at.
"C'mon, dorks," Anna said, pointing across the street to the hotel.
Santana went back up to Brittany's side and hooked an arm around her waist. "Looks like you'll be my only family now."
"I don't mind that," Brittany said.
"Me either," Santana agreed. She leant in to kiss Brittany, taking one lip in between both of hers and gently holding her waist. They stood there for a long minute, tasting only each other in the cool breeze of the city and calmly pulled apart. It was the perfect first night to their trip, and they both knew it would only get better.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Part two coming soon.
