Brittany goes away. Santana doesn't realize how much she hates it, until the second night she leaves work, and feels in ache in her stomach that she has to sleep in her own bed again. She never thought that she'd be like this, but she loves sleeping beside someone else. She loves waking up with her head on Brittany's shoulder. She loves Brittany sleepily tangling their fingers together beneath the sheets. She loves their quick morning showers together, and dressing quickly so she can pour cereal while Brittany rouses her baby bear from bed. She loves being part of a family. She loves being home.
So Santana becomes grumpy. She snaps at her residents. She ends up putting the interns on scut. She sulks around the nurses station, or spends too much time with Sammy Franklin, sometimes even playing Go-Fish for an hour in the afternoon, even though she has actual work to do. She never thought she'd be like this, but she is. It's only for six days, but still. Even with text messages, even with the FaceTime call from Brittany's mom that Liam insisted, from Boston, on making, even falling asleep with her phone on her pillow, and the sound of Brittany's voice in her ear, it still sucks.
Six days is a long time. Even though when she streams Brittany's keynote address on the Internet, she's sounbelievably proud of her, Santana wishes she would just come home already. She wishes there'd be a knock on the door, and there she'd be, holding a takeout container, and some cheesy sweatshirt from Des Moines. The kind of sweatshirt that Santana would have made fun of anyone for wearing a few months ago, but now, that she'd probably kill to wrap herself up in, especially if her head was on Brittany's chest.
Santana finds herself wishing for Liam too. She doesn't want to be weird and FaceTime him every day while he's at Brittany's parents' house. He's with his grandparents, and they love having him visit. He's with his grandparents, and it's not like Santana is anyone to him. She's not his mom, or his aunt, or his friend. She's just his Mama's girlfriend. She's just her, and right now, she doesn't need to come off as even more needy than she's been feeling.
Finally, it's the day. Santana wakes up, and she feels some sort of pep in her step, one she hasn't felt since she dropped Brittany off at the airport. Before she goes to work, she spends thirty-two minutes doing her hair. She plucks her eyebrows perfectly, and she shaves every stitch of hair below her waist, spending time exfoliating and moisturizing her skin down there too. She wears the new sexy underwear she'd bought while wandering home slowly on night number three. She changes her sheets and makes her bed. She makes sure everything is in order, before she locks the door behind her. Brittany is coming home today. Brittany will probably sleep over her apartment, since she's kid-less and they're going to the bar. Brittany is meeting her friends, and since she can't control that at all, she needs everything else to be perfect.
Clearly, Santana realizes, halfway through the morning, that when she got ready for work, she must have forgotten that she was a surgeon. By the time she finishes her morning appendectomy and hernia repairs, she feels like she's drenched in sweat. Her sexy new underwear feel more sweaty than sexy, and her hair is disheveled from being shoved up under her scrub cap. To put in simply, she feels disgusting and looking at the time on her cellphone, she tries to imagine a world where she could get home from work before Brittany gets in from Des Moines.
It doesn't happen. Santana is just about to take a lunch break and race downtown, when Rose comes into her office, telling her that a fourteen year old leukemia patient is vomiting blood. She spends the afternoon in surgery, exhausted when she comes out, and aching for a nap. Instead, she takes a shower in the locker room. Her hair isn't what she'd wanted, her underwear isn't what she'd wanted, but she's clean at least. Her pits don't stink, and she doesn't smell like puke. She's clean, and Brittany's flight landed an hour and a half ago.
"Hey, you." Brittany looks up from the nurse's station. She's in tight jeans and a leather jacket, and Santana swallows hard. She hadn't expected her for another hour, and yet, here she is.
"Hi." She croaks, heat creeping up her neck. "You made it in."
"I did. I figured I'd show up early and surprise you. So, surprise!"
"I missed you." Santana murmurs, stepping closer to Brittany, and wringing her hands in front of her. They're in a crowded hallway, but still, she feels a magnetic pull toward Brittany. Still, she needs to be as close to her as she can.
"I missed you too. A lot."
Santana just nods. She's not sure what exactly to say next. Instead, she just turns and walks toward her office, leather clad Brittany following right behind her. It may be the sexist thing she's ever seen, Brittany in dark, tight jeans. Brittany in an off the shoulder white t-shirt. Brittany in that gorgeous piece leather. When the door is closed, Santana tells her as much. Not with words, but with a long, deep kiss. Arms wrap around her waist, and Santana sighs, soft leather of Brittany's jacket rubbing against the bare skin, where her shirt rises up. Brittany is home, and for the first time in six days, Santana feels like she is too.
"I really, really missed you." Santana repeats, no shame in her words.
"Me too. You're off tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah…but you've gotta go to Boston."
"Come with me." Brittany whispers, kissing Santana's lips twice, then pulling back to look in her eyes. "If you want, I mean."
"You want me to?"
Though she's not sure why, Santana is stunned by it. New York is her world, but Boston is Brittany's. Boston is where her family is. Boston is where her friends are. Boston is where she was raised, where her son was born, where…where her sister lies. It feels serious, to Santana, Brittany inviting her there. It feels more serious than girlfriend and stay the night and I love you. It feels serious, and yet for the first time in Santana's life, she's unafraid.
"Why wouldn't I? I've been gone for six days, I kinda miss my girlfriend. And I figure, I'm meeting your friends tonight, maybe I could introduce you to mine tomorrow. I wasn't going to stay the night, but if you're coming and you want to, I know my mom wouldn't say no. We just might end up with Liam in bed with us."
"Oh. I mean. I could sleep on the couch, or the floor, or…whatever." Santana stammers, chewing on her lip.
"Thats up to you, Santana. But I have no problem with it."
"It's not weird?"
"Why would it be weird?" Brittany shrugs. "I plan on having you in my life, and in my son's life for a long time. I absolutely understand if you're not ready for that kind of step yet, but you're important to me, and I trust you with Liam implicitly."
"I FaceTimed him while you were gone."
"He told me." She smiles, that soft smile, that adoring smile. The one that makes Santana weak in the knees. "I'm not sure which of us loves you more."
"Brittany."
"I mean that. He's the sweetest, warmest boy, but he's never attached to someone the way he's attached to you. He loves you, baby, and it makes me love you even more."
"You know I love him too."
"I do." Brittany nods. "I'm telling you, that alone has made my decision to go forward with the surgery so much easier."
"You didn't tell me."
"I know. I finally forced myself to process it on the plane home, so it's about two hours old." Brittany shakes her head and waves her hand. "We'll talk about it later, or tomorrow in the car."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. It's rare I get a night out in a bar that isn't in a hotel in Iowa or something. Plus, I get to meet your friends. I'm excited."
"I'm not sure how excited you should be about Kurt and Mercedes." Santana rolls her eyes. "If they're too much, go play darts with Kurt's boyfriend. That's what I do."
"They'll be fine."
"They're high maintenance."
"I'm a plastic surgeon." Brittany laughs, and Santana finds herself smiling. "I'm pretty sure I can handle high maintenance."
While Santana makes her final rounds for the day, Brittany goes to her office. With her in the same building, Santana feels so much more at ease. It's gross how goopy she gets over this woman, but it's the best kind of gross. She's going to Boston. She's going to meet Brittany's friends. Brittany wants her more and more involved in the life of her son. She has a family, it feels like. She has someone more than her mother who actually believes that she's good inside. Someone more than her mother who loves her in this special way. She has someone more, and it feels really, really good.
It's dark when she meets Brittany in the lobby. Kurt and Mercedes probably left for the bar an hour ago, but Santana rarely leaves work on time. She's starting to feel a little nervous about the whole thing, but when Brittany pulls her close and slips a hand into the back pocket of her jeans, Santana's every muscle relaxes. It's just Brittany. It's just Brittany, and it's just her sometimes overly intrusive friends.
The bar is crowded when they walk in, and Santana scans the room. Kurt and Mercedes have a table in the back, and she takes a breath, before she leads Brittany first to the bar.
"Hey Santana." There's a purr from the bar stool beside them, and Santana stiffens. It's the doctor-fucker, and her whole body turns cold. "Long time, no see."
"Been busy." She shrugs, then cocks her head toward Brittany. "Wine, babe?"
"How about gin and tonic tonight?" Brittany smiles, and takes Santana's hand, helping to put her at ease.
"Wow. That sounds good." Santana releases a breath, slow and steady, trying to calm herself in a situation she can't handle.
"Let me get it." Brittany raises a finger to the bartender, and Santana doesn't even argue. She feels eyes on her, and it makes her squirm. She feels eyes on her, and she wants to crawl under the bar and disappear.
"Thank you." Her voice cracks, but Brittany presses her lips to the side of her face, letting them linger there a few seconds. "I'm just gonna, uh…"
"How about you let me order first, and we go together?" Brittany suggests, squeezing her hand. The girl beside them snickers and sputters, and even Santana can feel Brittany's glare. "Shouldn't swallow more than you can handle."
Santana squirms the entire time she stands there. She can feel that same sickening feeling that she felt in the aftermath of hooking up with her creeping back into her veins. It's been months, but still. Something about this woman's presence unsettles her. Even with Brittany beside her, maybe even more with Brittany beside her.
She swallows half her gin and tonic in one gulp. Her hands tremble a little, but that helps to steady them. Brittany doesn't let go of her, as they make their way to the bathroom, and she fidgets on the line, waiting, waiting, waiting until she can hide behind the closed door. When it's her turn, Brittany follows her in. She considers fighting her, but she doesn't. She just pulls herself up on the sink and keeps taking breaths.
"We've all got a past, Santana." Brittany stays out of her space, but doesn't take her eyes off of her.
"You don't understand." She huffs, swallowing over and over again, in order to keep herself from crying. "You don't understand."
"So make me." Her eyebrow arches, as she takes a sip of her drink. "I want to, so make me."
"You have a past, and things you've done. I have a past and who I was. I don't even feel like the same personanymore. Seeing…whatever, that girl…it just makes me feel shitty."
"Santana." Brittany pinches the bridge of her nose, and takes another swig of her drink. "You don't think Ifeel like a different person than I was a year ago? Two years ago? After the end of my engagement, I felt like everything I was during the whole time I was with her was a lie. My focus was Liam after that. It was starting a new life for the two of us, and then there was you. I felt like I was sleeping, and you woke me up. Maybe you're not who you were, but neither am I."
"There's not a girl you fucked sitting two hundred feet from us."
"So what? Are you going to leave me for her?"
"What? No! Why would you even say that?"
"I don't do jealousy, Santana." Brittany steps forward, standing between Santana's legs. "Jealousy means that I don't trust you. Did it bug me, the way she was leering at you and snickering? Of course it did. But I'm too damn old to have a fight with some chick in a bar, especially when it's time I could spend meeting my girlfriend's friends."
"I'm seriously emotionally stunted."
"Just different pasts. We'll figure it out. If you want to leave, invite your friends to my house. If you want to stay, just remember that I love you, and there's very little you could say or do that could change that."
"You're something else, Brittany Pierce."
"And so are you."
Hopping down from the counter, Santana splashes cold water on her face, and she decides to stay. She doesn't want to go near the bar and relive the shame she felt over and over again, but she'll stay. She'll be with her friends. She'll be with her girlfriend. She'll be the normal human that she's spend the last months attempting to become. She'll be okay, because she has Brittany. She'll be okay, because she's not that girl anymore.
"Santana Lopez!" Kurt shrieks, as they approach the table. "Who is this goddess, and where have you been keeping her all my life?"
"Really, Hummel?" Santana rolls her eyes, then looks at Brittany, who chuckles. "You know who she is. Didn't you do a surgery wth her like three weeks ago?"
"Ça fait rien." He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I know Dr. Pierce, but this…"
"Is the same person." Mercedes elbows him in the ribs. "Don't be so over the top. You know Santana hates that."
"Satan hates everything. Let me have my fun. Sit, Brittany, sit. Tell me everything about yourself."
"Everything is a bit much." She pulls out a chair for Santana, before she sits down, and maybe Santana swoons a little. "I might need another drink for that."
"David!" Kurt's shrill voice makes Santana cringe. She loves him, but God, after two glasses of wine, he ceases to sound human.
"Hey." Dave turns from his dart game to grin and Santana. "I swear, I was coming right over to say hi."
"Play your game." She waves him off. "Don't let him boss you around."
"I was trying to get your lady another drink." He gives Santana an exaggerated eye roll.
"You know where the bar is."
"It's okay, Santana." Putting down his darts, Dave comes over with a grin and holds out his hand to Brittany. "Dave Karofsky. It's nice to meet you, Brittany. What are you drinking?"
"You don't have to get me a drink."
"I know, but I want to. Is that a gin and tonic?"
"It is. Here, let me—"
"Please, don't insult me." Dave laughs, putting a big hand on her shoulder. "Same, Santana?"
"Please."
Something about Dave Karofsky always puts Santana at ease. She doesn't even bother to look in the direction of the bar as he goes, she just holds Brittany's hand in her lap, and watches the way she lights up as she talks to Kurt and Mercedes. There's just something about this woman, and it hits her straight in the chest, the way she manages to captivate in conversation. Santana is usually sullen and reserved. The friends she had, she made because the accepted her for her grumpiness, but Brittany, she lights up a room. Brittany, she makes Santana so proud to be with her.
They talk for awhile, before Brittany drags her to play pool with Dave and Mercedes. Santana never plays, but with Brittany, she wants to. She loves the way Brittany presses into her, helping her position the stick, even though they both know Santana is more than capable. She loves the way Brittany murmurs into her ear, gin on her breath. She loves the way Brittany picks her up and spins around when she pockets the 8-ball. She loves the way she's having actual fun in the bar, and she loves the way Brittany just brings her right out of her shell.
Before they leave, Kurt pulls Santana aside. She's nervous, at first, that he's going to say something snarky. She's nervous, until he hugs her, and tells her that he's obsessed with Brittany. He tells her he's happy for her. He tells her it's about time she found someone who she deserves. It makes Santana happier than she knows how to say, and so she says nothing at all. She just thanks him, and she leaves, just a little drunk, and with Brittany's arm around her waist.
They take a cab to Santana's apartment. It's so rare they stay there, but Santana loves the way Brittany's blonde hair falls against her dark sheets. She loves the way Brittany, definitely more drunk than she is, lets Santana undress her. She loves the way Brittany arches up against her hand, as Santana circles her clit. She loves the way she comes on her fingers and moans her name. She loves her lazy post orgasmic kisses, and the way she rolls Santana over. She loves the way she always wants to make her come with her mouth. She loves the way she pulls a blanket over them both afterward, and throws one leg protectively over Santana. She loves the way she makes Santana feel so damn loved that she could just cry. She loves that she's here, she loves that she's home.
"Feels so good." Santana whispers, brushing Brittany's nose with her own.
"Hmm?"
"You back."
"Yeah." Brittany kisses her again, again, again, until she's even more breathless than she was to begin with. "Yeah it does."