Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Three]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9.5k

Notes: It has been way too fucking long, but I re-read through my notes after finishing my other fic, Never Knew I Needed, and I had this sudden inspiration to write this one. Don't really know what came over me but there you go. Nice little surprise for everyone I guess.

/

It's a week later and Santana's already sorted out the majority of her nine to twelve month section in her preparation list. She's determined the type of wedding after sitting down with Brittany and Jason, she's developed a recording system to keep track of payments, she's already found a minister who's more than happy to do the ceremony and she's even created an approximate guest list for the wedding.

Not exactly the hardest of work, that comes later, but she's still glad it's done.

But the next thing on her list is to book a location and a ceremony site, whether they're the same place or not. She's Googled a few places, and rung around via her contacts to see if there's anywhere available within the next year, but come up with nothing so far considering she was giving a list of specifics a few days ago when she sat down with the couple.

Weirdly enough though, it's not actually Brittany that's being specific; it's Jason, and she thinks he might be doing it to piss her off because there are hardly places that are scenic, private and cheap and within the city. It's just ridiculous. This is New York City, not some suburban place with fields a few miles away. It's one of the busiest cities in the world, but she's staying calm and telling herself that killing the groom wouldn't be good for her resume.

Plus, you know, it'd probably piss Brittany off and that's the last thing Santana wants.

So on a Thursday morning, she and Brittany decide to set off to find a wedding location.

(And Santana pushes back that feeling that curdles within her at the thought.)

/

The first place they go to is The Foundry in Long Island City.

It's a large building, and Santana knows this is one of the top ten wedding locations around the Big Apple because it's constantly booked up, and for a reason, too. The Foundry is incredible. It's a 19th century restored building and the areas that is designated for the ceremony is unbelievable.

"For the ceremony, we'll have however many chairs you need spread out across this area," the woman who's touring them says as they wander out into the garden area. "The maximum capacity is 200, though, just to warn you."

They walk further into the garden and turn around to stare at the building behind them, taking in the entire view of where the wedding would be set. The wall facing the garden is covered in green plants and nature, and it looks so beautiful as it reflects the sun and casts a strange, green glow over the pavement slabs below their feet. Hell it's so goddamn beautiful that even Santana can imagine getting married here and she doesn't really want to get married.

(Not anymore.)

"This is usually where we have couples wed," the woman continues and stops beside a few old cart wheels. Santana guesses it's supposed to at a vintage feel to the place but personally, she thinks it looks a little out of place. "But we do have a little archway that is optional if you'd prefer to have something a little more traditional."

Brittany nods along, enamored with the place, and clearly she doesn't notice the sudden pause in Santana's movement. Does the woman think they're getting married?

No. Maybe Santana heard wrong.

"You can get changed in one of our suites upstairs, it comes with the booking charge," the woman says and begins to walk down the center where Santana guesses the aisle would be. "Then both of you may walk out of this entrance here," she gestures to a big glass pane with two large doors carved into the middle. "If that's okay with both of you?"

This time, Brittany does notice. She stops in her spot, cocks her head to the side like a confused puppy and stares at the woman who just bounces in her step and smiles warily back, clearly unsure as to what she's said wrong. Santana swallows and bites her bottom lip, glancing toward her best friend and then to the woman and realizes that Brittany's not actually saying or correcting her, so she'll just take it into her own hands.

"No, actually," Santana pipes up, clearing her throat. "We're not getting married. I'm just... here."

The woman's eyebrows pinch together. "But someone is getting married, right?"

"Yes." It's Brittany and her voice is too high. "I am, just not to my best friend. My fiancee is at work," she throws in a chuckle to end her words and then nudges Santana with her shoulder. "Isn't that right, San?"

First of all, that bit about 'my fiancee being at work.' It's a lie.

Jason isn't at work. He's lying around on the sofa at home, whining about how he couldn't get tickets to the Knicks vs. Sixers game in Philadelphia, whilst watching the exact same game on their TV. Because since Santana's now the wedding planner, that's a free ticket for the douche to spend all the time he isn't at work just lounging around on the sofa, eating their food, watching absolute crap on their TV and telling Santana what she can and can't do despite him having zero input to this wedding whatsoever.

Frankly, she doesn't think that's exactly fair but Brittany's not complaining just yet so Santana will bite it back for now.

Oh, and secondly, yes, they may not be getting married, but Santana can't not hear the way Brittany's voice dipped when she said something along the lines"I'm not marrying my best friend" because seriously, what's wrong with that? Sure, they're not actually getting married but is the thought really so preposterous? What's wrong with Santana?

Also, she and Brittany even made a damn deal about getting married in a few years if they were single and now Santana has to look away, grind her teeth together and desperately try not to dwell in that weird pressure that's back in her chest again because Brittany's making it sound like a bad thing. What's wrong with marrying your best friend? Wouldn't that just mean you get the best of both worlds? The best friend and the lover? What could be better than that?

But whatever. It's not like she gives a damn. She's just saying.

"Nope," she says, popping the 'p'. "We're not getting married. Her fiancee is back at our apartment, lounging around eating Cheetos with his hand down his pants whilst he watches a game he bitched about not being able to get tickets to, whilst we're out busting our ass to find a wedding location."

She finishes her little rant with a too-sweet smile at the woman who shifts awkwardly, nodding and offering a light-tipped smile before spinning away and telling them that she's just got to go and grab a booking form, just in case either one of them wants to book. Santana just stares as the woman disappears and suddenly stills, realizing that yeah, actually she totally did just say all her thoughts out loud and made Jason look like a complete jackass.

"Santana," Brittany hisses through clenched teeth. Santana lifts an eyebrow in her direction but says nothing. "What the hell was that?"

"I told the woman what Jay-bag is really doing," she shrugs. "What's the problem?"

Blue eyes narrow dangerously so. "You just made him look like a complete asshole, that's the problem."

Santana twists her body and scrunches her brows together. "Well that is what he's doing, isn't it?" She challenges, now lifting her eyebrow. "He is lying about at home watching a game he bitched about not getting tickets for, right?"

She stares hard, watching the way Brittany tries to find a way to deny that, but knows ultimately that Jason is actually doing that because Jason is actually an asshole. He had literally no reason for not coming today but that's just another road Santana knows will lead to an argument and she just doesn't have the fight in her to do that anymore. Not with Brittany. She just feels drained.

"Look, Britt, just forget I said that," she continues through a long exhale and waves her hand into the air before turning away. "Let's just leave this place and go to the next. We've got like another four to visit today."

She walks away without another word and doesn't feel bad for what she said. It was the truth.

It just doesn't make her feel good for pointing it out because she doesn't want Brittany to realize she deserves better.

Not if that means ruining her happiness.

That's the last thing Santana wants.

/

She's standing behind the bar at work, making a Long Island Ice Tea when Puck walks in.

He smiles at her from the doorway, giving a quick wave and she only offers him a short nod in reply before going back to the task at hand. Her hands do their thing, her mind somewhere completely different and she pours the spirits and sour mix together before tipping it into a glass and giving it a quick stir. The gentleman with the suit way too nice for a place like this smiles at her as she hands it over and slides over a ten dollar bill, telling her to keep the change before he heads back through the bar, setting the drink down for a woman with headphones in.

It's not really that interesting, but Santana likes to people watch when she's at work. It actually gives her the ability to get to know people faster and that skill comes in pretty handy when you're a wedding planner. She can get to know the client faster, know their likes and dislikes and also, on a non-professional level, she can tell whether the client is going to be a total asshole.

(It's one of the reasons she doesn't like Jason. She could tell from the second she met him he was a sly, smarmy dick.)

"You creepin' on people again?"

Her eyes flicker to the left to find Puck sliding through the gap in bar to join her behind it. "Shut up, Puckerman," she defends, a little too sharp. "I'm just... observing."

"Checking out some ass more like," he retorts, grabbing a rag and swiping it over the bar top. "Or are you still all hung up over Blondie?"

It's a sensitive subject, one that he only knows about because apparently Quinn has a big mouth, but that still doesn't make it any better. Puck and Quinn have been dating since they met that fateful night two years ago, and okay, Santana's grown to really like Puck, he's totally like a brother to her, but it doesn't mean she likes to share every aspect of her personal life with him. Especially because even though he's not actually that bad in comparison to the rest of Quinn's previous boyfriends, he's still a guy and still gets an erection over the mention of lesbian action, especially when it comes in the form of a 'Puerto Rican Princess' and a 'Leggy Blonde' as he so kindly put it.

He really can be a douche sometimes, and Santana's been so close to telling him that actually, she has a bigger dick than he does so his imagination isn't as accurate as he thinks, but she knows what that would lead to and just... no thank you.

"Screw you," she spits, putting the bottles of spirits back in place, eyes following the movement. "I'm not hung up on her." She pauses, twisting around a bottle and then shrugs. "We're... friends."

Puck lifts an eyebrow at her, reading her bullshit. "Sure babe," he says and winks at her. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Go fuck yours—"

"Children, please," a voice cuts in and Santana rolls her eyes at the way Puck's face lights up as he glances toward the source of the voice.

It's Quinn, obviously, and she slides onto a stool, throwing Puck a wink and propping her elbow up on it. She looks like a damn school teacher with that floral dress on but Santana's so passed making a remark about it because Quinn always comes back with something and sometimes it's freaking better than her comment. And right now, she's already pissed off and so she doesn't really need her friend owning her ass to add on to the list of things that went wrong today.

"You have customers around."

Santana shoots a glare at Quinn. "Shut it, Fabray. You're the only one at the bar."

A smirk plays upon pink lips. "Am I not a customer?" Quinn quirks, a challenging dip in her tone.

"No, you're a pain my ass," Santana spits back, crossing her arms over her chest covered in a tight, black t-shirt. "Now what d'you want? Aren't you supposed to be ruining people's lives or something right now?"

Quinn narrows her eyes in disbelief and okay, Santana has to admit that was pretty lame. "I'm a divorce lawyer, S, and most of the time I'm just giving people what they want," she reasons and yep, good point there. "And anyway, you're the one who's giving people expectations in an institution that fails as often as it succeeds."

Santana raises her brows, slightly impressed by the sheer knowledge her friend has. "Well aren't we a raincloud of fucking doom today," she says, leaning forward onto the bar and toward her friend. "And I never said I believe in marriage, I just plan the ceremony and do everything and they're the ones that say 'I do' at the end of it. It's their choice, not mine."

"Then why the hell are you a wedding planner if you don't believe in marriage?" Quinn says, her face contorting with confusion. Santana just looks at her though, pulling down the corners of her mouth as if to say I don't know. "You make no sense, Lopez."

"Actually I believe it makes me mysterious," Santana fires back, squinting at her friend with a grin. "And that quality's rather attractive to women," she says, teasing her friend and waggling her eyebrows.

"I'm mysterious."

Both girls whip their head around to look at the person who spoke and then glance back at each other, almost as if they're looking for confirmation that Puck actually said that. When they meet each others eye though, seeing that yeah, he totally did just say he's mysterious, Santana bursts into laughter and so does Quinn.

"Shit, you tripping, Puckerman," Santana manages to get out, slapping her palm down against the bar top as her eyes begin to water. She wipes the back of her finger at the corner of her eye to remove a tear and then looks to him. "You couldn't be mysterious if I gave you a flashlight and a map and told you where to fucking find the quality."

Quinn laughs even more at this but Puck seems terribly offended by it as a crease forms between his brows, his face drops into an expression halfway between being pissed off and halfway between looking genuinely hurt by the comment. Santana continues laughing at him though because really? Puck pretty much lays his life out on the line to anyone. Apparently it used to be a method of bedding chicks.

"Honey," the blonde girl coos when she sees the expression on her boyfriend's face. "Don't be offended," she says and sticks out her bottom lip into a pout. Puck's face relaxes a little at that, but clearly not enough to satisfy Quinn and so she leans over the bar, batting her eyelashes as she says, "It's why I'm in love with you."

Feeling the need to test her upchuck reflex, Santana purposely gags at the sweetness in her friends tone and at the hearts practically fucking glowing in Puck's eyes and sticks two fingers down her throat to show it. But Quinn just flashes her a glare before leaning over the bar top, puckering her lips until Puck smirks, pointedly showing Santana and leans down, closing the distance to kiss her. It makes bile rise in Santana's throat, although that's probably because she's basically a bitter old hag now and can't stand seeing any couple together, but still, she rolls her eyes, scoffing louder than necessary and leans over, flicking Puck in the ear to stop the public display of affection.

"Stop trying to make me hurl," she butts in, smirking when Puck reels back and claps a hand over his ear. "And get back to work."

He does as he's told, but not before flipping her the bird and Santana just gives it straight back as she and Quinn both watch him head to the other end of the bar to serve an old guy waiting there. But then he's gone and Santana rolls her eyes again—they're going to get stuck up there one day—and turns her attention back to her blonde friend, seeing a glint in her hazel eyes that Santana just knows means we need to talk.

Fucking woop-de-doo.

"So word has it that you're Brittany's wedding planner."

Santana lifts a brow in her direction as if to ask how she knows that, but she can see this conversation is going to drag on for longer than wanted and so she just goes about making her friend a vodka lemonade. It also manages to hide the way her face drops at the mention of Brittany and the wedding, but that's neither here nor there.

"It's a wedding present," she replies, nonchalantly, eyes focused on holding a glass. "And who told you, anyway?"

"Brittany had to," Quinn deadpans and Santana looks up, narrowing her eyes at her friends words.

"Had to?"

"Yes," the blonde says and her voice lowers into a slightly angered tone. "She had to tell me because my freaking best friend decidedly did not."

Santana scoffs as she loads the glass in hand with a few ice cubes. "Well you're the one that's all buddy-buddy with Britt, now," she retorts and pours in a shot of vodka, following it with the soda gun before sliding the drink over. "So it's not really a surprise that she told you before I did."

Quinn smirks at her. "Do I detect some jealousy over there, Lopez?" She asks, waving a finger over in Santana's direction before dropping it and wrapping her hand around the glass. "And you're the one who became all 'buddy-buddy' with my boyfriend so I had to find my own 'buddy,.'"

"Aw, sweetie," Santana starts, converting her voice with a Texan accent. "I'm sorr' I've been neglectin' ya'll. I'll try be better in the future, honey, just please don' leave me," she drones out sarcastically but Quinn doesn't find it as amusing as she does and shoots her a glare.

"No, come on," the blonde says, sipping on her drink. "What's up with the Puck thing?"

Seeing as the man in the sky is deciding to really piss on Santana's fries today, as soon as the question leaves Quinn's lips, Puck slides over with a perked interest and a quirked eyebrow, his elbow resting on top of the bar. Seriously, thank you God. This is so not what she needs right now.

"Heard my name," Puck chimes in, pulling what Santana can only describe as a 'James Bond' expression with pursed lips and arched eyebrow. "Go for Puckerman."

She just lets out a frustrated groan. She really doesn't want to talk about this anymore but it seems Quinn has other ideas because she just goes ahead and tells him exactly what they were talking about. Jeeze. Fucking couples always tell each other everything. Santana makes a mental note to never tell Quinn anything ever again.

"I'm just saying Santana over here's buddying up to you—"

"I am not buddying up to him out of choice."

This catches Quinn's attention and she snaps her head around, expression rendered quizzical. "Out of choice? What, so you're being forced to be friends with him?"

"Ouch, babe," Puck slips in, clutching his chest right where his heart is. "You know how to kick a guy in the balls."

Santana shakes her head. "That's not what I meant," she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I meant that it's not exactly a great idea if I get close to Brittany if she's going to marry Jay-bag," she explains and suddenly feels incredibly stupid. "She'll fuck off with him and I'll lose one of my best friends."

Quinn's face softens and she reaches over, setting a hand over Santana's resting on the bar. "S, you're not going to lose Brittany. You two have been through two much to let her getting married get in between you."

In some ways, she has a point but Santana thinks they both know there's something else going on here. Though it's something that Santana doesn't want to acknowledge, nor talk about and so she just nods, agreeing to her friends words anyway.

"I guess so," she sighs and takes her hand away from beneath Quinn's. "I just... I know when two people get married it effects their friendships." She throws in a shrug but then realizes how bad that sounds. It's making her sound like she's abandoning Brittany. "I mean, she has you, and you understand her like I do, and I mean, Puck's not that bad so I guess I'm just getting a little closer to him now. Plus I'm her wedding planner and this is my professional and personal tying together"

"I'm right here," Puck slips in, almost like he's hurt and both girls look to him, but quickly disregard his words and go back to their conversation.

"Santana," Quinn starts. "No-one understands Brittany like you do," she says and Santana's heart clenches. That's what she was scared of.

"Yeah, but Q, I don't wanna stay as close to her if I'm just going to have it ripped away from me at the end."

Quinn stares at her with creased eyebrows, clearly wanting to say more but Santana just stares back and then the silence drags on because there's nothing that Quinn can say. She can't reassure Santana and tell her that it's not going to change because it is. It will and it's something that she can't stop or fight. And it's not like she doesn't want to be best friends with Brittany because she does. She loves Brittany to bits but she's always been protective of her heart. If she can't have Brittany as her best friend forever then why should she have her as her best friend for the next nine months or whatever?

"Exactly," she says, a knowing glint in her eye. "Now if you'll excuse me I've got to go sort out some stock."

She walks away without another word, her heart clenching inside her chest and she ignores the way she feels Quinn and Puck's eyes on her the entire way.

Sometimes she hates it when she's right.

/

"Okay, so we've got to do at least four things today if we want to keep to the schedule I've drawn out."

Brittany nods slowly, tugging her leg up and tucking it beneath her as she points all her focus onto Santana. Santana just breathes out, ignoring the way blue eyes are pointedly not looking at her laptop and are rather staring at her profile because if she starts thinking about that, it's going to bring up a whole batch of other questions that she just doesn't know how to deal with. Not anymore anyway.

"So we've got this checklist to complete in the next three months," she says, trying to change the subject as she brings up a huge check list onto the computer screen. There's at least fifteen pages of it but Santana does her job well. Or rather, she's doing as she was trained and this will just add toward her resume when she completes her degree.

"That's a lot," Brittany comments and she just nods.

"I know, but a wedding is a big thing, Britt."

The blonde doesn't reply for a minute, just sits there and fidgets with the leg of her sweatpants and Santana doesn't notice for a few seconds, but when she does she tries to ignore it because she's trying to keep her professional face on at the moment and even though she can tell there's something swimming around in Brittany's head, this is about work. This about doing a job.

But she never had a chance, and she almost smacks herself for thinking she could because she ends up sitting back against the couch and looking toward the other girl with an expression showing she's ready to listen. Dammit.

"What's up, Britt?"

Blue eyes flicker to her as Brittany clamps down on her bottom lip and chews nervously. And it's something Santana's seen a million times before and that's why she knows that Brittany's contemplating something serious now. If it weren't for the biting of her lip, the way she's staring at Santana with wide eyes and a slightly scrunched brow would totally give it away.

"Are you sure you want to be my wedding planner?"

The second Santana hears it, she stills, and seriously wishes she hadn't asked Brittany what was up because now she's wondering whether Quinn said something to Brittany about their conversation the other night. Though she does take into consideration that if she hasn't, then she's pretty much just freaking out for nothing and Brittany will totally pick up on that and bug her until she spills, and she just can't say to Brittany that she can't be best friends with her because at the end, she's just going to lose her. Even thinking that makes her feel like a total bitch.

"Um, why... why are you asking?" She asks instead, looking back to her computer and scrolling down the checklist as if she's glancing over it.

"I just..." Brittany sighs and sucks in her lips. "I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Brown eyes widen at the words because Santana's pretty damn sure that's exactly what Quinn said yesterday, but surely Quinn wouldn't go and tell Brittany about their conversation? Would she?

"Have you talked to Quinn by any chance?" She blurts out, meeting blue eyes but Brittany just scrunches her brow in a confused fashion.

"No," she replies, curiosity peeking through her expression. "Why? Should I have done?"

Santana's eyes widen with panic but she makes a point to keep it subtle, scratching her hairline to try and cover it. "Uh, no," she says, clearing her throat. Okay, maybe subtlety isn't her strong suit. "I was just wondering if you had."

Brittany's brows furrow like she's not quite buying it but she says nothing more and instead jumps up, grinning widely. "Okay, so what's on the checklist for today?"

With that, Santana goes back to reading over the checklist but as Brittany talks about where she's thinking about having their honeymoon and who she's going to put on the save-the-date guest list, Santana slowly realizes that she still doesn't know why the blonde asked her if she wanted to be her wedding planner. Like, Brittany already asked the night she found out about the engagement and Santana said yes, so what's brought around this sudden doubt? There must have been something. A trigger, almost, and she finds herself completely disengaging from the conversation as her mind runs wild.

She knows Quinn could have said something after their conversation at the bar a few nights back, but Santana trusts Quinn. She trusts her not to say anything and okay, she didn't specifically say not to say anything about their talk to Brittany, but it was kind of one of those unspoken things between friends. Brittany and Quinn are close, yeah, but Santana would still say that she and Quinn are closer; and because of that, she's nearly one hundred percent sure that Quinn wouldn't have said anything.

Although she should probably ask her. You know, just in case.

"Earth to Santana?"

Santana blinks, bringing herself back to reality. "What?" She asks, looking back to Brittany. "Sorry, I blanked out."

Brittany giggles, her nose scrunching up in the most adorable way. "You did, but it doesn't matter," she says but then something in her expression changes and narrowed eyes roam over Santana's face, attempting to read her. "Are you okay? You seem a little... off, today."

"Off?" Santana echoes. "I'm not off. Just... I didn't have a lot of sleep last night."

"Oh, well if you wanna do this another time then—"

"No, no," she cuts in, waving a hand. "I'm a professional and right now we're not friends," she announces and Brittany cocks her head to the side like a confused puppy. "We're client," she points to Brittany. "And business woman," she continues, pointing to herself with a smile. "So enough of this personal talk and lets get down to business."

She offers the girl a smile and Brittany grins back, but it's a little... well, off, to use Brittany's phrasing, but still, she repeats her own words over inside her head and gets back to the current situation, knowing she needs to get back on track. Although that is the plan until the blonde girl shuffles over, looping her arm through Santana's and resting her head on her shoulder as they both peer down at the computer screen, ready to start going off the checklist.

(And Santana can't fight the feeling that this is how they're supposed to be, cuddled on the sofa, marveling in their togetherness.)

"Sure, San," Brittany sighs and tilts her head up, glancing up through her lashes. "But just so you know, you'll never just be a business woman to me. You'll always be my friend," she says, snuggling even closer.

But Santana doesn't reply, instead inhales deeply and lets her eyes flutter shut as she thinks that this is the best she's going to get.

Because she is always going to be Brittany's friend.

That's the problem.

/

It was like any other morning, and Santana climbed out of bed, arranged her bunched up boxers and slipped on a zip up hoodie before heading out into her apartment. She grabbed a slice of toast, picked up the newspaper from the front door, flicked on the coffee maker and waited for it to brew as she read over that days news.

So yeah, it was like any other day because this was her morning routine, but she'd completely forgotten that last night, she'd had an... unexpected visitor.

And that explained why the moment she heard soft footsteps pad down the hallway, she lurched for the closet thing she could use as a weapon and stuck up her guards, ready to beat up the intruder with a

"Why are you holding a whisk?" Brittany asked, cocking her head to the side with an amused expression pasted on her face as she walked into the kitchen.

Santana paused, the night before rushing back and she lowered it with a sheepish smile. "Forgot you were here," she answered and set the whisk down on the kitchen island. "Though you were an intruder or a murderer something."

Brittany headed over to the coffee maker and inspected it for a long moment before shrugging and grabbing two cups. "So you thought you could defend yourself with a whisk?" She quirked and poured two mugs full of coffee, spinning around and sliding one over the island to Santana before leaning back against the counter, cupping her own.

"Guess so," Santana muttered and rubbed the back of her neck, eying the coffee in front of her. "Thank you, by the way."

Her words sparked something inside of Brittany because the blonde put down her cup of coffee and skipped around the kitchen island, grabbing Santana's hands and twisting her on the stool until they were facing each other. It was only then that Santana noticed what the blonde was wearing, or rather what she wasn't wearing because that skimpy tank top and those miniature shorts left barely anything to the imagination, and she suddenly felt heat spread across her skin because she was so close to her.

And she really wished Brittany wasn't so damn attractive because when the blonde stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, their bodies flush against one another as they hugged, it would've kept her from feeling all the blood rush to her groin and her head swim with Brittany, Brittany, Brittany. It would've meant that her senses wouldn't have spiked and she wouldn't have become hyper-aware that all those feelings inside of her were bubbling to the surface as well as becoming hyper-aware that in that moment, she was holding everything she couldn't have.

It felt like the weirdest type of fucked up, emotional torture and she wondered why the hell she thought inviting Brittany to live with her was a good idea. If this was what it'd feel like to constantly be around a girl she couldn't have, then why did she make it so she'd have to feel like that all the time?

Shit. She really was fucking dumb.

"What's this for?" She asked, the words muffled against Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany turned her head, her nose nudging the shell of Santana's ear and lips brushing over the lobe. It felt so good but so fucking bad and Santana was so conflicted she wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or smile. "Just for being here for me when you didn't have to be," the blonde whispered. "You're amazing."

Santana gulped because she knew Brittany wasn't calling her amazing in the way she wanted to, but still she put on a smile and pulled out the hug, meeting blue eyes. "That's okay," she reassured and didn't even stop herself when her hands drifted down and resided on her hips, like they belonged there. "It's what friends do, right?"

The slight smile playing on Brittany's lips dropped and her eyes went with it too. She swallowed, wet her lips and there was a slight clenching of the jaw that Santana instantly wanted to question, but then the blonde was pulling her back into a hug, one tighter than before and burying her face into Santana's neck. It completely caught her off guard, but her body picked up the action before she did and she wrapped her arms around the blonde girls back, urging her closer against her by the small of her back until there was no space between them as Brittany stood between Santana's thighs.

"You're just an amazing friend," was said, muffled into Santana's skin.

She stroked a hand over Brittany's back and smiled weakly against her, because there was a deeper meaning behind the words and they both knew it. They may have been friends but there was a time when both of them wanted more. When they both wanted each other and even though they never got there, got to the place where they could move out of the friends zone, they wanted it at some point and they both know that.

But friends is all they could be at then because there were too many outstanding factors, one in particular, and right then, in each others arms, Santana was sure that they both felt the sense of regret in the atmosphere around them because the time may not have been right, but that never affected how they felt. That was one thing that didn't change, and Santana was sure wouldn't. And in that moment, with Brittany nestled in her embrace, she was sure that it was exactly the same for Brittany.

Which is why she whispered, "I know, Britt," through a thickened throat, tears welling in her eyes. "I know."

Because even though the time may not have been right then, it might be at some point and that's what she had to cling on to.

/

Becoming a wedding planner was never Santana's plan.

She never dreamed of becoming one as a little kid, nor did she choose to study her way to it. It actually happened out of luck, or chance or whatever. She was sitting at home one night, waiting for Brittany to come home from the gym, flicking through the television channels when she came across a show. It was called Don't Tell The Bride and it was all about couples who were given a certain amount of money to spend on their wedding, but must spend three weeks apart without contact. The groom had to organize everything—and by everything, she means every aspect of the wedding including the dress and the hen and stag parties—and the bride had absolutely no say in it whatsoever. Just had to sit back and have the surprise of a lifetime on her wedding day.

Anyway, Santana was watching it and she remembers how interesting she'd found it. She remembers a specific wedding, one where the groom was a little loopy and wanted a wedding based on Alice In Wonderland. He'd set everything in the woods and really, she'd just found it fascinating. In fact, she found it so amazing that a wedding could make someones life or break it, that she decided to get into it herself.

So the day after, she was ringing around colleges and eventually found a place to study wedding planning, and it's what she's been doing ever since.

Although apparently, in New York, the business is rather hard. It takes a lot to be a wedding planner because either you're good or you're not — there's no in between; and so after a year of studying, her college mentor took her to the side and told her that even though she had three more years of studying, she'd better get searching around for a company to work for straight after getting her degree because her mentor just knew she was going to be an amazing wedding planner.

And so that's what she's did. She searched around but she found a company and set her heart on it. It was like love at first sight.

Which is why when she's sitting at home, typing up the 9-6 month portion of the wedding checklist, and she gets a call from her college mentor telling her about getting an interview at Corcoran Weddings & Events, she damn near falls off her bed.

"What!?" She screeches into the phone, choking on a breathe.

"You have an interview with Mrs. Corcoran tomorrow morning," her college mentor says. "Honestly, Santana, you're acting like this is a shock."

Santana's eyes widen and she gasps, "This is a surprise, Emma!" She stops and rubs a hand over her face. She must be dreaming. "Are you for real? Like, I actually got an interview?"

Down the line, Emma laughs. "Yes, Santana. A rep came in and asked for the top of my class and I suggested you. They looked at your file and I told them you were a very promising student."

The amount of love that Santana feels for her mentor is overwhelming. Like shit, she actually got a fucking interview with one of the biggest wedding planner companies in New York. Shit. This is where her life freaking begins.

"That's amazing. I can't thank you enough," she says with the utmost sincerity. "So what do I have to do?"

"Well, I'll email over the details to you and you take it from there."

"Awesome. Thanks, Emma."

"That's okay. Good luck."

"Thanks. Bye!" Santana chirps down the line and swiftly hangs up; and she knows Emma must think it's weird because whenever Santana turns up to lectures or turns in a paper, she's never freaking happy, but so fucking what. She can't give a crap right now when she's got a chance at joining one of the most renound wedding companies in fucking New York! If she gets her foot in the door with this company, that pretty much means she can work anywhere. It's like that film, The Devil Wears Prada. If she works there for a year, she's good for the rest of her life, employment wise.

This opportunity really is amazing.

So she quickly logs onto her email and eagerly sits there for the email to come.

And when it arrives, she actually falls off the damn bed with excitement.

/

Okay, maybe she got a little excited after reading over the email for the fiftieth time.

Maybe she decided to turn on her iPod and hum along to whatever came on shuffle whilst she finished the checklist.

But maybe a certain song came on and she just couldn't resist dancing to it because she's in such a fucking amazing mood it's unreal.

So maybe, just maybe, that could explain why Santana's up on the bed, dressed in sweatpants that are hanging low around her hips and a tank top with her hair in a loose bun on her head and her glasses perched on her nose, and she's dancing away to the song booming from the docking station and singing loudly into the hairbrush, tightly clutched in her left hand.

But that's just a maybe. She might not actually be doing that.

"I'm so excited and I just can't hide it! I'm about to lose control and I think I like it!"

Except she totally is.

She may look like a total fool, but she couldn't care. There's excitement buzzing through her body and happiness creating a warmth in her stomach and maybe she doesn't have an amazing life, maybe she doesn't have a girlfriend and she isn't wealthy, but she has a chance to work with Shelby Corcoran! She's like the Beyonce of the wedding planning world!

Except she's so caught up, she doesn't realize that she's being watched until the song dies down and she's panting, bending half over and clutching at her thighs. But then her eyes flicker up and she notices the blonde standing in the doorway of her room, an amused expression on her face and her eyes a bright blue. She's wearing jeans and a loose fitting shirt, but honestly, Santana catches her breath at the sight. Though she forces herself not to think about that and clears her throat, suddenly feeling the heat flood to her face because shit, how long was Brittany standing there for?

"The Pointer Sisters?" Brittany muses and moves forward, pushing off the doorway with her shoulder as she makes her way to the bed.

Santana flushes a little more and scrunches her nose up in embarrassment. "How long were you standing there?" She asks, completely humiliated.

Brittany just stands at the end, looking up at her with the most adoring eyes and shit, Santana sometimes hates the way Brittany looks at her because it's just so damn confusing. Like right now, the blonde's staring at her like she's the most adorably silly creature on the entire world and really, it's making her stomach flutter.

"Only about two minutes," the blonde replies with a wink and holds her hand out. Well, that was pretty much half the song. Great. "Not that I don't love seeing you like this, but what's the reason for it?"

Santana takes the offered out hand, ignoring the way her skin flares at the girls touch and hops down from the bed with the blondes aid. God. It's such a simple gesture and yet when her feet are firmly planted on the floor, she looks up to the other girl and wants nothing more than to thank her in the only way how.

Though she totally acknowledges the flaws of doing that.

"San?" Brittany calls her and Santana blinks, the embarrassment doubling within because damn, she was just caught staring.

"Uh, yeah," she says, shaking herself out of it and throwing her hairbrush on to the bed, suddenly switching her facade from playful to stoic. "I got an interview with Shelby Corcoran."

Now they've been living together for almost three years now, and so it's not really that surprising that Brittany's face lights up and she bursts with so much excitement that it almost puts Santana's celebration to shame. Because Brittany's been with Santana throughout her degree and through her years of taking three hour exams and knows the ins and outs of the wedding planning words exactly like Santana does, and she would've had to be blind and completely deaf not to pick up on some stuff all of these years; but it still manages to astonish Santana because it's like they're in this together.

But they aren't. They're just friends.

Although it's really fucking hard to remember that when Brittany's squealing, clapping her hands and looping her arms around Santana's waist, spinning her around in circles and chanting, "I'm so happy for you! I'm so happy for you!" over and over again. Though as it happens, Santana sort of completely forgets all those thoughts running through her head because Brittany's touching her and that always has the mind-blanking effect.

But then Brittany's setting her down and loosening the grip on her waist, keeping her hands pressed to the small of Santana's back; a Santana becomes remotely aware that the blondes panting and smiling down at her, a gleam to her eyes because shit, they're really fucking close. So close in fact that Santana can count every freckle dusting over the bridge of her nose and see the various blues surrounding her pupils.

Though it's at that moment that she hears a pair of heavy footsteps coming up from the hallway and her entire body tenses because she knows exactly who that is. She can always tell, and the strangest thing is that whenever she and Brittany are caught in a position like this, holding hands and standing in front of each other, Brittany always gets this guilty, regretful look in her eye. Santana's seen it many times, because Jason always seems to walk in when they're hugging, or talking rather intimately, but she still has no idea what it means.

Because why would Brittany feel guilty for being caught like this? It's not like she feels anything for Santana. It's not like they're going to do anything. Right?

And just as those thoughts process, Brittany drops her hands away from Santana, takes a step back and Jason simultaneously slides into the room, folding his arms over his chest and lifting and eyebrow at the situation he's just walked in on. It's like he's watching over them, like Santana and Brittany are being observed and Santana really fucking hates it because she doesn't know why she and Brittany can't just be left alone. It's like Jason's always fucking there and honestly, Santana just wants him to go away. Or play on the highway in rush hour or something.

Okay, maybe that was a little far.

"What's the big news?" Jason asks, eying them both suspiciously and Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes.

Brittany sees the tension though, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before she hops on over to Jason and loops her arm through his, tugging him toward Santana with a grin. Probably to get him to congratulate him or something, but Santana just really wants this douche bag out her fucking room. No-one comes in without an invitation; well, except Brittany, but that goes without saying.

"Santana got a job interview with one of the biggest wedding planning companies in New York!" The blonde announces and Jason's face doesn't even twitch. He doesn't even give a crap and doesn't try to hide the fact that he thinks that.

Although it seems Brittany doesn't notice because she just stares at Santana with a large grin, eyes shining with pride and happiness. God, Santana hates that. It just makes everything so much... harder to accept.

"That's great," Jason monotones and slips his arm out of Brittany's to wrap around her shoulder, almost possessively.

Santana narrows her eyes. Pissing on the bottom of Brittany's pants to mark his territory would be less obvious. "It is, actually," she retorts and folds her arms over her chest.

The guy just glares at her and Brittany frowns, clearly not getting what's going on and Santana wishes that sometimes Brittany wasn't so... oblivious to things. She's not stupid, but sometimes she just doesn't get things and this is definitely one of them. Yet in spite of the tension in the room, a tension you could cut with freaking scissors, Brittany grins and bounces on the balls of her feet, an invisible light bulb popping up above her head.

"Let's go out for drinks, San!" She suggests with excitement, ducking out from beneath her fiancee's arm to skip over to Santana and grab at her hand. "It can be like old times!" She continues, tugging on Santana's hand like an impatient child and batting her lashes with puppy eyes. "Come on," she whispers. "We can dress up, go to a club and drink the night away. Like we used to."

It's not like the idea of going to a club dressed in short dresses and getting all up close and personal with Brittany on the dance floor doesn't sound like a good idea, it's just that Santana knows it's not going to be like that anymore. She knows that someone else is going to tag along and ruin the whole damn night. Well, maybe it won't ruin it for Brittany because duh, she's marrying him and obviously likes him, loves him in fact—ouch—but Santana sure as hell isn't the biggest fan and yet she's going to have to put on a brave face and dance on her own whilst she watches Brittany and fucking Jason kiss and dance together.

Now this may just be her, but that doesn't sound like such a great night.

"I don't know, Britt," she replies, lifting her free hand to scratch at her eyebrow to hide the wince at the flurry of images rushing through her brain of Jason and Brittany. "I mean, I've got work tomorrow lunch time."

"Then we'll come home a little early," Brittany compromises and Santana looks at her, suddenly hating herself for never being able to say no to this girl. It's those damn eyes, she swears. Or maybe that pout. Or maybe the way Brittany just seems so damn excited by the suggestion and the way her entire face is lit up.

But whatever it is, it fucking has Santana hooked and she rolls her eyes, letting out a loud exhale because shit, Brittany's got her. Again.

"Fine," she finally says and ignores the excited squeal that comes from the girl before her. Though it kind of makes her roll her eyes again (playfully) because damn, Brittany's adorable. "We'll go out, but we have to be back before midnight."

Brittany squeals again and jumps in excitement, wrapping her arms around Santana's waist and lifting her from the floor, shaking her from side to side with happiness. It makes Santana laugh so much, the excitement and feel of Brittany hugging her merging into one explosion of happiness and she pretends to bat her hands against the blondes shoulders to put her down but Brittany doesn't relent, just squeezes her tighter and buries her face into Santana's chest further.

Although it seems like both of them have completely forgotten someone else is in the room because Jason suddenly coughs, or conveniently clears his throat and Brittany tenses, slowly lowering Santana to the floor and taking a step back with a sheepish smile. It makes something in Santana's stomach drop, almost like disappointment and she just shrugs before she lets her eyes drift to the guy glaring at them from the other side of the room.

Bet he and Brittany never do that. Ha.

"Should I call a cab?" He asks and Brittany frowns for a split second before her entire face relaxes in surprise. Or maybe shock.

"Oh, are you coming?" She says and Santana sucks in her lips to keep herself from smirking. Brittany wasn't intending to invite Jason. Ha fucking ha.

Jason lifts an eyebrow and his eyes dart between the two women. "I was planning on it. Why, am I not invited?"

There's nothing more that Santana wants than in this moment for Brittany to tell him that no, he wasn't invited but this is Brittany, and Brittany would never do that. She doesn't like to hurt anyone, or leave anyone out and so Santana isn't that disappointed or surprised when the blonde skips back to her fiancée and kisses him on the cheek, almost reassuringly.

"Of course you are, babe," she says and pulls back with a sweet smile. "As long as that's okay with Santana."

Now it's all eyes on her and she bites her tongue for a long moment just knowing that God must be freaking testing her right now. She can't say no, not whilst Jason's eying her like it's a challenge and while Brittany's pleading for her to say yes with her eyes. And God, she doesn't really have a freaking choice, so she just puts on a smile that doesn't reach her eyes and shrugs her shoulders.

"It just wouldn't be the same without you."

She says it to try and get one up on him, and it kind of works, too. Jason's face drops, Brittany glances away awkwardly, and Santana smirks at both reactions, but then he grabs Brittany's hand and pulls her out the room without another word, and Santana's left standing in the middle of her room, alone, realizing it's still him that she chose and it's still him that gets to kiss her whenever he wants.

And well, no amount of sarcasm can change that.

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