200- Critic

Santana was the first to admit that she was ultra protective of Brittany. Not in a bad way—she just wanted her favorite blond to feel safe and happy at all possible moments in life. One thing she was always on top of, was keeping Brittany away from critics' reviews. She knew her wife got professional feedback from her peers and her mentors, and that was quite enough as far as she was concerned. Most of the reviews were good—people recognized Brittany's talent. But theater critics were a notoriously brutal bunch, and Santana didn't want to see Brittany-tears just because some snob had his panties in a twist. So she screened the magazines before giving them to the blond.

When she got home that Thursday, she knew she'd missed one.

"Britt?" she asked, dropping her things and running over to the couch. She pulled her wife into her arms. "What is it? Give me that…."

"They said I looked like a cat with its head stuck in a jar and its tail on fire!" she sniffled. "I want a bestie night. Call Rach and Q."

Santana nodded and kissed her. At least she wouldn't have to buy another duck.