Santana is in love. She's in love, and it does something to her. It makes her feel lighter, feel better. Like loving someone like Brittany, and being loved by her in return makes her, somehow, more worthy, more…everything.
She tells Shelby. Not the love thing. That's her own business, that's something that she keeps close. That's something that she doesn't want to open up for other people to be part of. But she tells her that they're together. She doesn't think she can hide it anymore. She doesn't think she wants to. She isn't the type for public displays of affection, but she doesn't want to hide behind closed blinds either. When she sees Brittany in the halls, she wants to smile. She wants to brush fingers in corridors. She wants to sneak a kiss in the lobby when they're not on the same shift. She wants to be Brittany's girlfriend in every sense of the word.
Shelby is fine with it. Santana breathes a sigh of relief. Brittany had assured her that it wasn't breaking any rules, but still, Santana had worried. But it's fine, it's good. Shelby knows that nothing of her relationship will impact her job. She knows that Santana's not like the interns and residents who have sex in on-call rooms and fights in hallways. Shelby knows, and it lifts a weight of anxiety from her chest, knowing that she won't be caught in doing something secretive. Well, at least by Shelby.
"Hey." Mercedes knocks on the door to her office late one afternoon, one arm over her chest, and an eyebrow raised. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, uh-huh." Santana looks down at her phone, turning the screen on and off. Brittany is in an appointment for Liam with Dr. Stevens, deciding whether to continue with the orthopedist at NYU—who wants to schedule a surgery for Liam within the next month, Brittany had found out at their Monday appointment—or move things over to Columbia, and Santana is anxiously awaiting news. "What's up?"
"So, you know I'm not one to gossip—"
"That's an out and out lie." She rolls her eyes. "You and Kurt are the two gossip queens."
"Okay." Mercedes huffs. "Fine, I'm not one to gossip about my friends. But I heard a rumor about you, so I'm coming the source."
"A rumor?" Santana swallows hard, unable to keep her eyes from drifting to the darkened screen of her phone. "What kind of rumor?"
"A rumor that you're dating a certain department head, and that you two have been hooking up in her office."
"Excuse me." Blood boils beneath Santana's skin, that hospital gossip mill driving her absolutely mad. "Who the fuck told you that?"
"Wilde was telling—"
"Wilde is all I needed to hear." She balls her hands into fists, knowing that she'd recently spent a month on Brittany's service, and has a bigger mouth than anyone else in the whole damn hospital.
"I figured it wasn't true. I remember how you reacted to Hayward and Motta hooking up in that on call room."
"People need to keep their sex life out of this goddamn hospital. Just because you're seeing someone who works here doesn't suddenly mean that all sense of propriety and decency goes out the window." Santana gripes, looking down at her phone again.
"So, are you seeing someone in this hospital?"
"I—" Taking a breath, Santana contemplates her response. It's one thing, keeping her relationship close to her heart. It's another all together, denying it exists. Brittany deserves better than that. Brittany deserves better than her, she still thinks, but that's a story for a different day. "I…yeah. I am."
"Dr. Pierce?"
"Dr. Pierce." She nods. "Brittany."
"Well I'll be damned! For how long? How did you even hide this? Why did you even hide this?"
"Because I prefer my personal life not subject to an inquisition." Santana snaps. "And especially because we work at the same hospital, and no one here knows how to keep their damn mouth shut. I'm just not ready for that kind of public announcement."
"Alright, I'm sorry I asked." Mercedes makes to stand, and Santana pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling oddly guilty for not telling at least her friends.
"'Cedes. I'm really happy with her. I have a history of being a fuck up, and I've been so worried that I'd do just that, so I really needed to work through it on my own. I know you like to talk through your stuff. I know Kurt introduces us to everyone he ever talks to, including all his one night stands back when. But that's not me. It's nothing personal. I'm just not like that. I just…need to get my footing before I deal with more emotional stuff."
"I get that." She pauses in her tracks, nodding, to show that she was genuine. "Look, it's between you and me. I hear gossip, I'll squash it with a big hell to the no."
"I'm gonna have to deal with it sooner or later."
"Do it when you want. I got your back, Santana."
"Really?" Santana looks over, genuinely surprised. Mercedes has always been good to her, but still. Knowing she can trust someone with something so special. Knowing she understands that Santana wants to do things on her own terms, that means more than she knows how to say. "Thank you."
"That's what friends are for, right?"
"Yeah. She nods slowly. "Yeah it is."
When Mercedes leaves her office, Santana still feels anxious. She's glad she has someone in her corner, foreign as it is, but still, the idea of people talking about her makes her skin crawl. It makes her want to pull out her hair, or scream. Instead, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a pill bottle. She doesn't open it, she just shakes it a little, watching the little peach pills tumble in their casing. She considers reaching for her water bottle, considers swallowing one, but she opens and closes her free hand, she takes deep breaths, and she puts them back in her bag. She doesn't like benzos, not when she doesn't really need to take them, so she's glad she manages to quell her anxiety, she's glad she's been able to get a grip on herself.
Wanna come to my office? Santana's phone finally buzzes with a text from Brittany. We're done.
Santana takes a breath, then another. She doesn't want to go up there as a ball of tension. Liam's there, she's sure. Brittany's had a rough day, she's sure. The last thing they need right now is her, coming in, making the energy in the room too much to handle. So she keeps breathing. She takes three sips of the lukewarm coffee on her desk. She stands up, and paces for a few minutes, and then she turns off her light, leaving things as they are, while she heads to the elevator.
When she gets to Brittany's office, she pauses, stopping herself from rapping on the doorframe, when she sees Liam asleep in Brittany's arms at the desk. She knows that Brittany was worried about his nap schedule, worried that a doctor's appointment at the time Liz could meet with them would mess him up completely. But he seems okay, green train held tightly in his left hand, and his head tucked under Brittany's chin. Santana watches them for a few seconds, smiling, before she walks through the open door.
"Hey." Brittany whispers, stroking Liam's hair off his face.
"Hi."
"I'm going to go home. Can you come?"
"Do you want me to?" Santana looks at her feet, unsure if Brittany wants to be alone or not, after this. Unsure if she's just asking because she always comes with them.
"So much. But I know it's early."
"My last consult ended an hour ago. Adams can run the floor."
"Are you sure? I can come back and pick you up later if you need to work longer."
"No." Santana shakes her head. "Definitely not. Give me five minutes to run to my office and pack up?"
"Yeah, totally. I'll go get him in the car and pick you up out front?"
"That sounds good." She nods, turning back toward the door, then turning back around. "Britt? Are you okay?"
"Yeah." Brittany lets out a long breath. "Just ready to get out of here."
Santana is quick in her office. She doesn't want to keep Brittany waiting. She wants to get back to her house. She wants to kiss her and lean in close to talk to her. She can tell she's overwhelmed about her afternoon, about Liam, and she wants to be the one who lets her unload, who makes her feel better. She's been doing it a lot lately, and she loves it. It makes her feel like she's got a newfound purpose. It makes her feel like she's more than just an emotional suck on the woman she loves. When she gets to the lobby, she shoots a glare at Wilde, who's walking in—late, probably—before she pushes it all aside. She doesn't want to feel stressed about this, not right this minute. Not when she gets in the car with Brittany and Liam.
Brittany is idling in front of the hospital when she walks through the doors. Before Santana even gets in the car, she can see Liam's hair sticking to the window, still sound asleep in his car seat. She opens the passenger door, and when she sits, she fidgets a bit, deliberating, before she reaches over the console to grab Brittany's hand.
"He stayed asleep when you put him in the car?" Santana asks, because she's not sure she should ask the big question until they're h—back at Brittany's.
"He woke up for a second when he dropped Percy, but he went right back out once I gave him back."
"Oh good, that's good." She purses her lips, watching the streets pass.
The drive is quiet. Going downtown at this time of night, so much earlier than they usually leave work, means they're stuck in rush hour traffic. Santana realizes that she's never seen Brittany truly flustered like this, cursing under her breath and hitting her palm on the steering wheel. She doesn't really know what to do, so she just keeps holding Brittany's hand, just keeps rubbing her thumb on the back on her wrist, just keeps letting her know that she's right here.
Brittany wraps Liam in a blanket when she pulls into the garage and unbuckled him. It's much cooler tonight than it was during the day, and Santana pulls her leather jacket more tightly around her chest. Liam burrows his sleeping face further into Brittany, and Santana just watches, a few steps behind, both awed by their closeness, and cautious that Liam's train doesn't slip from his hand. Something about the whole thing stirs sow thing deep within Santana. She can't place it, not at all, but it's deep, it's real, and she loves this strange new feeling.
"He'll be out for the night." Brittany tells Santana, fidgeting with the locks on the door. "Do you mind ordering dinner, while I put him up in bed?"
"I could make something if you want, Britt. Grilled cheese? Pasta with butter?"
"Actually." She smiles, pushing the door open. "Grilled cheese sounds really good tonight."
While Brittany takes Liam upstairs, Santana rifles through the kitchen. In the cabinet, she finds a can of organic tomato soup, and she starts it on the stove. While it cooks, she butters six slices of bread—one each and one to share, her mom used to say, back when she was a kid—and lays slices of cheese on top of it. She's certainly no gourmet chef, but sometimes grilled cheese and soup is all you need after a hard day. Sometimes grilled cheese and soup could cure absolutely anything.
Once dinner is done, Santana pulls a bottle of wine from the drawer in the fridge. She doesn't pour it yet, just sets two glasses on a tray with the sandwiches and the soup, and slowly walks into the living room. She's justpouring the second glass when Brittany comes down the stairs, grey sweatpants rolled low on her hips, and a blue tank top rising up to expose a strip of skin on her lower belly. Santana swallows hard, eyes roaming up to where hard nipples poke through soft blue fabric, and she rakes her hand through her hair, meeting Brittany's eyes.
"Looks really good." She smiles, sinking down onto the couch. "Thank you."
"Just grilled cheese." Santana shrugs, pressing the wine glass into Brittany's hand. "Made fancy with red wine."
"Made fancy because you made me it. Thank you, really. I needed this."
"Was it bad today?" Her eyes drift slowly over to Brittany, stomach knotting in anticipation of her answer. This was her suggestion, her idea. If it went poorly…
"Not bad. Just hard." Brittany sighs, taking a gulp of her wine. "Liz was great, and I met Jan too, on my way out."
"Jan was my advisor in medical school. She introduced me to Liz, and she used to let me sit in the gallery for her surgeries."
"She said that." She nods. "I liked them. So did Liam."
"Regardless of my personal affections for them though, I don't expect you—"
"I know." Brittany takes Santana's hand and squeezes, before she picks up half of her sandwich. "Liz is an exceptional surgeon though, I can tell."
"But?" Santana chances, still wary about pushing her to talk.
"She told me it's up to me if I do it right now. That I could wait six months or so if I want, see a new physical therapist that she works closely with, and maybe there'll be some kind of improvement. But I don't know, I just never know what's best for him. He had so many surgeries after the fire, and the idea of him under the knife again…" A single tear forms at the corner of Brittany's eye, and Santana presses her thumb over it, stopping it from falling. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Santana leans in, kissing grilled cheese crumbs from Brittany's lips. "You don't need to be."
"I'm usually good at holding it together."
"I'm usually not." Santana slides closer, stroking the outside of Brittany's thigh with her fingertips. "Sometimes you should get a turn too."
"He was just so unhappy today. He hates the MRI. I swear, I think he remembers it from when he was a baby. I know that sounds crazy, but…"
"You know as well as I do about the reality of sense memory. Part of him probably does."
"He was hysterical in there, and I couldn't be with him. That's what I hate the most about surgery. He's all alone, and I can't help him. I don't want to waste time doing something that's probably not the best course of action for him, just because I'm afraid. I'm a surgeon. I know he should have the damn surgery."
"I wish I could do the surgery." Santana's voice is nearly a whisper.
"You wouldn't, even if you could. I know you hold ethics with the most regard…"
"If it made you feel better, I would. I'd do it in a second. If I thought I could get on Liz's case now, without Shelby yanking me right off, I would."
"I wouldn't want you to. Operating on someone you care about…there's a reason you aren't supposed to."
"Brittany." Santana takes three sips of her wine, glad she opted out of the other pills, or she'd be drunk already. "I'll be here though, for everything, if you decide to do it. Whether it's now, or in six months. I'll take the week off of work, I'll sleep on the floor of his room in a sleeping bag if you want me to. I'll drive you to Boston, if you feel more comfortable doing it at Brigham. I'll drive you to California, if you want."
"Santana." Brittany looks at her, those eyes, melting, almost. "Santana, Santana."
"I mean it."
"I know you do. You're really something else."
"I love you, and I love Liam. That's all."
"We love you too. I don't know what I'm going to do, but knowing you'll be here makes it easier. Anyway…" Brittany waves the conversation off, signaling that she doesn't want to talk about it anymore. That she wants to think about it on her own, Santana assumes. "How was your day?"
"It was…" Santana purses her lips, thinking for a second, before she speaks. "Sammy is up eight pounds now."
"Two more and you can do the first surgery, right?"
"Yeah, I'm hoping next week. The mass has remained stable, and so has her white blood cell count, so I need it to stay that way."
"Man." Brittany shakes her head, finished the second half of her sandwich, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just still can't get over the whole thing."
"I know. I get so damn anxious just thinking about the whole thing. But she's making progress, that's all I've gotta keep telling myself."
They're quiet for several minutes, Santana offering up half of the second sandwich to Brittany, who smiles, and taps them together, a sort of cheers. Santana knows she's deep in thought, but the crease in her brow isn't as deep as it was. The wine is definitely helping, she thinks, and she wonders, maybe, maybe, if she is helping too. Hoping so, she cuddles closer, sinking into Brittany as she drapes an arm over her shoulder.
"So I heard a rumor today." Brittany breaks the silence, and Santana's back stiffens. "Judging by that reaction, I guess you did too?"
"Mercedes came to my office. I mean, if you're talking about Wilde."
"I am. I'm glad you didn't hear it straight from the horse's mouth."
"You did?" Santana's jaw drops, and she turns her body abruptly, making Brittany's bracelet catch in her hair. She lets out a little yelp, but Brittany is quick to untangle it.
"Are you okay?" She brushes her hand through Santana's hair, concentrating on fingers rubbing the scalp.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry." With a shake of her head, Santana turns her attention back to why she jerked so rapidly in the first place. "What happened?"
"I walked up behind her at the nurses' station, telling Brody and Cassandra. Sorry, hot blonde and Ken doll—" Brittany explains for Santana, who feels her heart race a little, knowing how Brittany knows her idiosyncrasies. "about how she walked in on us going at it like lesbian rabbits in the supply closet."
"Oh my God. Why? Why would she do that? We never— I would never— Ugh!"
"Santana. Hey. It's taken care of."
"What?" Her eyes widen, but Brittany takes her hand, pulling it to her lips, so she can kiss the back of it.
"Wilde and I had a little meeting in my office this morning. She's got a whole lot of scut, from one of the only doctors in this hospital who almost never assigns it, and she'll be paying you a visit tomorrow with an apology."
"How did you…?"
"I don't just have a department head position for my exceptional surgical skills."
"Did you tell her about us?"
"I'm pretty sure it's not her business. Your department head knows, my boss knows. Whoever else finds out, that's for us to choose."
"Why are you so…God, you're such an adult."
"Hate to break it to you, Santana," Brittany teases, poking Santana in the ribs, "but in spite of the grilled cheese sandwiches and superhero scrub caps, so are you."
"You're really cute." She brushes Brittany's nose with her own, and kisses her, slow, soft. "Liam's still going to your mom's next week?"
"Ugh, yeah." Her eyebrows knit, and Santana can't help but kiss her right there. "I kind of hate my out of town conferences even more now."
"Yeah me too." A thought crosses Santana's mind, but she doesn't say it, not yet. It's just too soon. It's just too much. "Well, you can totally say no, or whatever. I won't be offended or anything. It's kind of unimportant, with everything else you've got going on. But…if you're up to it the night you come back, do you, uh, maybe wanna meet my friends."
"Now it's my turn to say you're cute." She steals another kiss, and Santana's neck flares with heat, feeling the way she's looking at her again. That way that really is too much. "It is important, because it's important to you. So yeah, I'd really love that."