Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Four]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9.9k

Notes: So I know Brittana's kind of died out, but seeing as Heather and Naya have been spotted together on set filming some Brittana scenes, I felt like writing again. This chapter kind of explains a few things that are yet to be explained, so I hope you enjoy.

/

The weeks drift by and Santana's managed to get a lot of the major parts of the wedding fully organized or sorted. She's finalized the seating plan, she's written down a few ideas for the honeymoon—which makes her want to barf—she's booked the transportation for Brittany's mom and dad from the hotel and even found a perfect shop for Brittany to pick her dress from, as well as the shoes and all the other accessories.

The only thing left in this section is for the rest of the Pierce family to get their outfits for the big day, which isn't that bad considering she doesn't have to worry about Jason's side of things. He's already said he doesn't need any help so she's leaving him to it.

That should be interesting.

But anyway, she's just finishing up a shift at the bar when her phone vibrates in her back pocket. She slips out to the back room to have a peek at it, and damn near falls over when she reads on-screen.

Ms Corcoran wants to meet with you ASAP. I'm sending over her number so call her soon, Santana. I believe in you, so start believing in yourself – Emma.

It's from her tutor, and she receives the number only moments later, making sure to save it under CALL SOON in her contact list just so she remembers. She tucks her phone back in and tidies up the bar as quickly as possible, making sure to turn off all the soda machines and ensuring the glasses are all in their correct order before she skips out the door with her coat over her shoulder, shooting Holly, the bar manager, a quick smile as she leaves.

She barely even gets to the corner store to buy a pack of cigarettes before she's taking her phone out and scanning through her contacts, figuring out to ring. Of course, there is a certain somebody that pops into mind immediately, but then Santana really thinks it over and as much as it sucks, she figures that it's past eleven, it's a Friday which is date night, so either Brittany's sleeping and next to Jason, or they're doing... something else.

So instead she forgoes the early letters the alphabet and skips toward the end, clicking on Quinn's name and lifting the phone to her ear as she awaits to tell her about the text and the opportunity. And of course, because it's Quinn, at first Santana gets the congratulations she was hoping for, but then she starts getting scared shitless because her friend just goes on and on about how this interview could quite literally change her life. Like shit, she could've at least waited a few days before scaring the crap out of Santana.

"...So you can't show how nervous you are. The key to interviews is confidence, and boy do I know you have a lot of that."

Santana rolls her eyes, taking a cigarette from the packet and sticking it between her lips. "Yeah, in the bedroom," she replies and Quinn just laughs. "I'm awful at interviews. I either say too much or just come across rude."

"That's because you are rude, S."

She shakes her head, fishing her lighter out her pocket and inhaling deeply at the first drag of the white stick when she puts it to use. Damn, how she's missed that taste. "And you're an asshole," she mumbles, blowing the smoke out in a smooth stream. "I really should've talked to Britt before you. At least she wouldn't have scared me out of it before I've even talked to them."

"Oh stop being such a baby," Quinn draws out. "But seriously, why didn't you call Britt first? You know she's gonna be pissed if she finds out you told me first."

That's a good point, but she knows that her reasons from before still stand. It's Friday, a date night, and she has no intention or interest of ringing Brittany and knowing Jason the Jackass is sitting there beside her, wishing she'd get off the phone. God only knows if she heard an inkling of Jason trying to 'distract' her or Brittany saying some shit about, "oh Jason, stop it, Santana's on the phone", she'd just fucking explode.

So it's better of she just call Quinn, and let Brittany find out another time.

"Whatever," she waves her friend off verbally. "I'm sure she has more pressing issues," she says, taking another deep drag as she crosses the road to her apartment.

"You sound like a bitter bitch, Lopez."

She scowls and scoffs. "Well, I'm not", she defends and flicks her cigarette to the ground. "But I'm home and I'm done with your abusive shit so I'm going."

"You're the one that called me," Quinn points and shit, yeah she did. Although she didn't call her to talk about Brittany or to be called unnecessary things. No matter how true they are.

"Whatever," she says, sliding her key into the door when she gets there. "I'm inside so I'm hanging up."

"Asshole."

Santana laughs. "Bitch," she replies and hangs up, chuckling to herself.

/

The keys make a loud clanging sound when she drops them to the side table, but she doesn't care. The apartment smells like vanilla and sweetness and she takes a deep breath in, imagining Brittany baking this morning and finding herself smiling. It's really quite annoying when she does that because she knows if Brittany was baking, it was probably for the douchebag of a fiancée and God, it just makes her want to be sick.

But anyway she brushes off the thought and heads into the apartment, peeling off her jacket and throwing it over the back of the sofa. There's a little red light coming from the phone on the coffee table so she presses the voicemail button and wanders into the kitchen to grab a beer. Today's really been a pretty shitty day due to drunken, lecherous assholes thinking it's okay to grab her ass when she walks past and the worst part of that is she's got an official warning because she throttled one of them until he left a fifty dollar tip and ran off with his tail between his legs.

Personally, she didn't see a problem with it but there we go. Apparently defending herself and telling alcohol dickheads they'll either remove their hand from her body or lose the ability to have children, is frowned upon by the owner of the bar. At least Holly defended her and Puck wasn't there because that would've definitely meant a loss of jobs.

"Hello, this is a message for Santana Lopez," the message on the phone starts. "It's Shelby Corcoran's office calling to arrange an interview—

She damn near falls over as she rushes out the kitchen, eyes wide and hair frazzled. The leap toward the sofa is a near miss, but luckily she lands face down on the cushions and only winds herself a little bit as she listens to the message.

"We did leave a message for your tutor, Emma Pilsbury, earlier, but as we're eager to meet you, we thought we'd get in contact with you ourselves. If you wouldn't mind calling us back on..."

Her mind blanks and she rolls on to her back, kicking and punching in the air in celebration as she thinks about what this means. She can't believe that Shelby Corcoran—one of the biggest wedding event organizers in the world—is actually fucking eager to meet her. Holy shit. She's just so fucking excited!

"Our opening hours are nine til 5 on weekdays and Saturday, and we're closed Sunday. Please get in contact as soon as possible."

The second the message shuts off, she jumps up and off the sofa and starts dancing around the living room, looking like someone who's escaped an asylum. The excitement takes over so much her stomach starts jigging about crazily, and she's so wrapped up in everything that she doesn't even notice the front door's opened, and that someone's stepped in until she's out of breath and turns around to find amused, blue eyes gazing at her.

But then she realizes how much of an idiot she looks like and the blood rushes to her face because wow, no wonder she's single.

"Good day?" Brittany chimes in with a wide grin, closing the door and setting the brown grocery bag to the floor beside her purse.

Santana just shrugs and rubs her neck awkwardly. "It was alright," she replies and gingerly perches on the sofa once more. "I just got a message from Shelby Corcoran saying she wants to meet me for an interview as soon as."

There's a few beats of silence and a strange heaviness in the air before Brittany makes her way over and sits on the opposite end of the sofa. It's not like she's expecting her to know who Shelby is and what she means to her job, but Santana was at least expecting a congratulatory hug or something like that. Even a fist bump would've been enough and yet Brittany's just sitting there, head bobbing with pride and a smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I heard," the blonde tells her and Santana's brows immediately come together in a deep, confused frown. "Quinn text me."

Her throat immediately thickens and inside her head she makes a mental note to kick Quinn in the shins next time she sees her. Although she is wondering how Quinn told her so quickly. She's literally been in the apartment ten minutes so that girl must work quickly. She also assuming that Brittany means she knows about the whole interview in general, not the message that she got like, two minutes ago, but it's still pretty fucking irritating that Quinn's told her.

"When?" Is the only thing Santana can think of asking.

Brittany just smiles down at herself, almost like Santana's not getting something but answers anyway, "About thirty seconds before I walked through the door."

Well, that would explain the slightly cold reception she got. Brittany didn't even have time to process it and where okay, Santana doesn't actually owe an explanation as to why she didn't tell Brittany first, it's not like she could've even told her second and by herself because Quinn already broke the damn news to her.

Still, she can't be mad at Santana because in some ways, due to this interview, Santana has to be more professional than ever and that means separating her personal life from her professional one. Starting with Brittany considering she's her first ever big job. She's got to part herself away from all of it and okay, maybe Santana didn't tell her about the Shelby thing, but Brittany's going to get married soon, and she's not going to have all this time for Santana.

Soon enough, Brittany will want to live with Jason and want to move to the Suburbs or something, and they'll start having kids and adopt a Labrador. Maybe they'll even get a damn Volvo and build a white picket fence around their house. Brittany will want to move on with her life at some point so maybe it's better if Santana starts early. Maybe it's better if Santana starts holding back all the news because soon enough, there won't be a Brittany to talk to.

Maybe, yeah, it's a little early.

But maybe it's for the best.

So with that thought in mind, Santana just offers a half-smile, one she knows Brittany's going to see straight through anyway, and lifts her shoulders as she gets up from the sofa and turns to look at her. "I didn't think it'd mean that much to you," she says honestly, even though there's a part of her that knows that's not true. "I know you're caught up in all the wedding stuff, so."

She lets her sentence trail off and finishes with another shrug, and the worst part about it is Brittany says nothing at all. She just sits there, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched like she wants to deny it. Like she wants to say how she isn't caught up in all the wedding stuff, but she's literally just come back from spending a day with her and Jason's family, finalizing a few of the little parts like the flower arrangement colors and where they're going to go for the honeymoon and really, Brittany doesn't have a leg to stand on.

So Santana just smiles down at herself, but it's not really a smile and they both know that, and shakes her head a little bit, trying not to feel the disappointment trickle through her system. But it's strong, clear and sharp, and without another word, she turns away and heads through the apartment back to her bedroom to be alone.

Naturally.

/

She walks out of her bedroom to find the apartment dark.

Brittany's probably gone over to Jason's for the night, and Santana breathes a deep sigh because she's got to get used to this, but she doesn't think she ever will. The tiles are cold beneath her feet and she rubs at her tired eyes, trying to get the ache out from behind them but she knows it's not tired from lack of sleep, it's tired from living her life.

Anyway, she gets into the kitchen and manages to stub her toe on the edge of the counter before she reaches the light switch. There's a few curse words and a lot of scowling at herself, but she gets herself a drink and ignores the chill that thrums through her bones. Somehow it always feels a little colder when Brittany's not around.

The trip back to the bedroom isn't as bad, and she's halfway down the hallway before she notices a little package sitting just to the left of her door. She's not entirely sure how she didn't notice it before, and she tilts her head to the side as she gets closer and closer, wondering what the hell it is.

But then she sees a tag on the side and all-too familiar writing on the inner section, and her heart skips a beat. It leaps against her chest at least three times and she fucking hates that Brittany doesn't even have to be here, just has to leave a bag and a stupid little note and it still makes her feel more than anyone's ever made her feel before. Yet she still picks it up and heads inside her bedroom, setting down her glass of water on the side table and lifting the bag on to the bed, reaching inside to find a bottle of champagne and an envelope.

It's the first time in hours that she's smiled, and the dull ache in her cheeks is a reminder of that. But she ignores it and instead slides the pad of her finger underneath the fold on the envelope, flipping it open and pointedly ignoring the scent that wafts up that's just so Brittany. It's kind of a punch to the chest what she reads when her eyes scan over it, but she just falls to the bed with tears in her eyes and ends up hating herself for the smile that pulls at her lips.

Wedding or not, you and anything you do will always be the most important thing to me. Congratulations Santana, I've always believed in you. You deserve the best – Brittany x

Because it seems no matter what she does, something always brings her back to Brittany.

This whole wedding planner thing is going to be so much harder than she thought.

/

Shelby Corcoran.

The biggest name in the wedding event management history, and one of the wealthiest women in New York City who didn't marry for money, but made it herself. Everything about her is fierce, including her walk, her talk and the way her office runs, and honestly, when Santana's lead to her office and made to sit outside for half an hour, she's convinced she's going to meet the devil herself. Or at least like, the devil's cousin or something.

Yet, much to her surprise, Shelby Corcoran is quite possibly one of the nicest women alive. She's got the fearsome rep, the cocked eyebrow, power suit and rectangular glasses perched on the end of her nose, but she's the complete opposite. Like shit, she actually could be one of those mothers in the suburbs or something. It's very strange, but Santana guesses to make a reputation like hers, to climb her way to the top over everyone that said she couldn't do it, Shelby had to put on a front, had to fuck a few people over and flip a middle finger to anyone who told her she would fail.

Still, it's quite shocking when she meets Shelby, they click almost instantly and start discussing Santana's degree. Shelby's nothing but polite to her, to be honest, and in fact, Santana's almost a little suspicious and does debate whether to look into the corners of the rooms, or closely at the plants to see if there's any cameras or Ashton Kutcher hiding in the corner about to jump out and tell her she's been Punk'd.

But luckily, it all goes smoothly, Santana manages to relax ten minutes in and she really begins thinking she has a shot at this. A shot at making it at one of the biggest companies on the east coast.

Well, that's until Shelby starts talking about her current status.

"So, as you may know, Santana," the older woman starts, leaning forward in her large, leather chair. It's all for the image, but Santana can't help but see Shelby looking a little out-of-place. "You have to have some prior experience to work here."

Having read over this at least thirteen times last night on Shelby's website, Santana nods strongly and holds her head high. "I am aware," she replies and nods, reaching down to her bag on the floor and drawing out her portfolio for Brittany's wedding. "I'm actually planning a wedding for my best friend as we speak."

A perfectly shaped eyebrow shoots up and Shelby eyes Santana, almost surprised. "Really," she says and holds out her hand. "May I?"

"Of course."

The white folder slides into aged hands, and dark eyes scan over it, page by page. Santana just sits still and waits, knowing she's confident and impressed herself by her own work and planning, but also knowing that she's never done this before, only having looked for inspiration on freaking Google Images. To someone who's the biggest thing in the industry in this day and age, this portfolio could be a piece of shit.

After five minutes though, Shelby purses her lips and narrows her eyes slightly, letting them dart between the crisp white pages filed with scribbled notes and pictures of a variety of centrepieces, before she's had enough of the folder and closes it, sliding it into the middle of her desk once more. It doesn't go far enough that Santana can reach, so she doesn't even try to take it back, instead tips her chin up strongly, crosses one leg over the other and lets her hands fall back to her lap, ignoring the layer of sweat sticking at her palms.

"You said you're planning this wedding for your best friend," the older brunette states and tilts her head to the side. "Is that not a little..." She waves a manicured hand around, trying to find the word. "Difficult?"

It poses more question than it answers for Santana, but she knows she's trying to be professional and kicks those thoughts out her mind before they even get there. "It's challenging," she admits because yeah, that's the understatement of the fucking century. "But I like challenging."

A smirk pulls at Shelby's lips. "That's good," she nods and yes, Santana said something right. "But you must know as a wedding planner, there are certain rules, just like every other job."

"There are?"

"Yes. One of the most important ones is that you shouldn't get emotionally attached to your clients, or even the job," Shelby elaborates and Santana fights the urge to suck in a deep shaky breath.

"But she's my best friend," she tries to defend herself, and she knows she shouldn't really because this is an interview and being lippy isn't really the best idea. Still, it's like a natural instinct when someone starts talking about Brittany in a bad light, even if it's an indirect bad light. "And it's my wedding present for her and her... her fiancée."

Okay, maybe the slight hiccup on the fiancée part wasn't the best idea because Shelby cocks her head instantly and squints like she's just noticed she hasn't seen before and fuck, Santana really needs to play this cool. She got through the entire interview with strength, confidence and has somehow—fuck knows how—she made a good impression, but now she's revealing a little too much and considering the topic they're on, she needs to not show emotional attachment.

"That's understandable, Miss Lopez," Shelby wets her lips and leans forwards, arms resting on the desk and hands clasping together gently. "But when you work here you won't be able to do that."

There's no point in trying to argue her point and God only knows Santana can get a little carried away and end up insulting someone when all they were trying to do was be nice. Plus she actually really fucking wants this job, Shelby's done nothing to insult her just told her the rules and so she needs to shut the hell up and think before she speaks.

"You see," Shelby rises from her chair and pushes back, coming around the desk to sit by Santana's side. It's a strange gesture, but it's almost comforting and Santana just looks up at her but bites her tongue. "If emotions get in the way of wedding planning, it can affect not only the day itself, but the relationship of the soon-to-be wedded couple in the future." She looks her straight in the eye, almost conveying something. "Do you get what I mean?"

It's scary how accurate the older woman's being, but Santana nods anyway, trying not to give too much away. "I do."

"Good," Shelby continues and gets up again, making her way to the table of drinks in the corner to pour herself a small glass of scotch. It's only one in the afternoon, but Santana guesses it's all part of the image. Power suit, power walk, power drink. This woman doesn't play a single game without giving it her all and damn, could Santana look up to that. Even if she does decline Shelby's offer for a drink. She needs to make a good first impression and downing a glass of scotch probably wouldn't be the way to do that.

"So now that's sorted out, I want to tell you that I'm more than happy to take you on here at my company—" Brown eyes widen and Santana's breath catches in her throat, but Shelby just lifts her eyebrow like she doesn't want her to speak yet and continues. "Granted you get through this wedding and the day goes successfully."

Just like that, all the color drains out Santana's face and her body goes still. She doesn't quite know why she's having this reaction because there's pretty much no chance that the wedding is going to go ahead and not going to be successful—not to blow her own horn or anything, but she's definitely got what it takes to make it one hell of a day—but there's still this itching at the back of her head that's telling her... something.

Or maybe it's just the pressure of it all. Yeah, it's probably that. Just the pressure of having her career depend on this one day.

"I'm okay with that," she says, even though Shelby's eying her like she knows what's running through her mind.

"That means that if for any reason you decide to drop out of the program or feel like you can't go through with the event, we can take over but you'll lose your chance at a career with us and it'll work against you on your graduation," the older woman continues to explain and shit, Santana already suspected that but hearing it confirmed is like, a million times worse. Now she's got to play it cool and make sure not to make a bad impression. If Shelby thinks Santana's not serious about this wedding, and is hesitant about whether the show will actually go on, she could take away the opportunity and Santana could fuck it up before it's even begun.

Crap. Being an adult is seriously fucking hard.

So she keeps a straight face, keeps her nerves calm and pretends like she knows it's all going to be okay. It will be, but there's a slight hesitation because this is a pretty big fucking deal and it all rests on one thing. One thing that's causing her to go into panic stations already and it's a good few months away.

Still, she offers a light smile and lifts her chin. "I get that," she confirms. "I can do that, Ms Corcoran, and I promise I won't disappoint you."

There must be something in her face, or something in her tone that switches Shelby's mindset because Santana swears she sees a little surprise flash across her eyes. But then the older woman's nodding almost proudly and rounding her desk again, perching down and grabbing a few papers out one of the desk drawers.

"Great," she says and Santana holds back the frown threatening her brow as she breathes through pursed lips. "So let's talk paperwork."

She just smiles and nods along to the older woman talk about the contract and how the next few months will go. But there's a part of her mind, a tiny part that she knows is going to grow with time, that's focused on the tugging in her stomach. The tugging that's worrying about her future. The tugging that's worrying about how this is going to affect Brittany and the same damn tugging that's reminding her that this whole thing that's causing her professional and personal life to collide could potential be disastrous. Not only for her.

So she's just got to get through this wedding. She's got to get through this one little wedding with a smile and she can grab that once in a lifetime chance, work for the firm of her dreams and keep everyone happy while keeping her personal life in tact. Keeping everyone happy. Especially Brittany.

Yeah, she can do this.

She hopes.

/

When she gets back to the apartment she finds Brittany sitting on the sofa chatting away on the phone. She's smiling widely, her eyes are large and bright and despite wearing gray sweatpants and a big baggy hoodie, she's quite possibly the most beautiful thing Santana's ever seen. Her hair's up in a high pony, there are reading glasses on her face despite there being no book in front of her and there's a cup of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of her that Santana just knows is for her.

At first Brittany doesn't notice her, just tucks her legs further beneath her and chats animatedly to whoever is on the end of the line. She twists the end of her pony between her fingers, and Santana moves through the apartment, smiling like a total idiot to herself at the view of her best friend. It makes her heart happy, her chest warm and she knows considering the conversation with Shelby, this probably isn't what she should be doing but she just can't help it. Brittany's just got this... thing about her.

"Ouch," she yelps as she walks into the side table. How embarrassing.

Brittany jumps from her spot, takes the phone away from her ear and whips her head around to stare wide-eyed at Santana, but just ends up sucking in her lips and muffling a chuckled laughter when she notices what just happened. As if it wasn't already humiliating enough, Santana actually curls over at the hip and grasps the top of her thigh as she hobbles, telling herself to take deep breaths because fuck, that really fucking hurt. She slumps down on the sofa next to Brittany and listens to her best friend say goodbye to whoever is on the phone before sliding it on to the coffee table and picking up the tea.

"Here," she offers and Santana smiles a little but groans in pain, not quite believing tea is all she gets considering she's wounded.

"I just walked into a table and you're offering me tea?" She says and rolls into the back of the sofa, pushing her face into it, muffling her words. "I need a shot of something for this."

Brittany shakes her head, laughs and puts the tea back down. "I'm surprised you didn't have one to calm your nerves," she comments and Santana's brows furrow but then she thinks of the interview and rolls on to her back again, looking up at her friend. Bright blue eyes gaze down at her and seconds later she feels long fingers slide into her hair and comb it, just the way she likes. It's soothing, and she can feel warmth pool in her chest as she closes her eyes. If only she could always come home to this. "How did it go anyway? Did you get the job?"

The question throws her off a little because all of a sudden Shelby's offer of how the wedding has to go smoothly before she can get an official offer comes rushing back to her. She knows this is pretty much the complete opposite of what Shelby told her and for some reason, it makes her sit up straight and inch away from her best friend. Her entire future relies on her not screwing up this wedding and she knows the further she gets emotionally away from Brittany, the more chance there'll be that the day will go smoothly.

And if she needs to get away from Brittany emotionally, she needs to start soon. It's going to be hard enough as it is.

"Are you okay?"

Santana clears her throat and gets up from the sofa. She doesn't want to act suspicious but she knows she's doing a pretty crappy job of it and hell, even if she was doing a good job of it Brittany would be able to see straight through it because it's Brittany. Not a damn stranger.

"Yeah, it was good," she says and does kind of mean it. The first ten minutes was good, it was just the last part that sort of fucked her over. "I've pretty much got the job."

"Oh my God!" Brittany half-yells and claps her hands together. Her eyes are wide and bright, her smile matching and Santana knows how happy she is for her. She knows she's resisting the urge to jump up, make a big deal because she knows Santana pretty much hates that, and she's grateful. But still, a pang of guilt strikes her chest because it's not that simple. "That's incredible, San!"

She smiles down at the floor but it feels like there's more to say and she just can't stop it. "But on a few conditions," her tone lowers noticeably.

Brittany cocks her head to the side intrigued, but there's something else in her eyes. Something almost knowing. "What are they?" She asks, carefully, crossing her legs on the sofa and turning her full attention to the other girl. "Are they bad?"

"No," Santana fires back immediately. She doesn't want Brittany to have any pressure even if it's all on her. Better her to suffer than Brittany. "But they're just... dependent."

"On?"

"You," she replies and takes in a deep breath, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. Brittany looks shocked and stares down at her nails, picking at them nervously. "Well, your wedding but still."

"Oh," the blonde breathes out and chews her bottom lip. That's a universal sign of hers that she's nervous, that she doesn't like what's being said and Santana has to agree. She doesn't like that this whole thing is dependent on the wedding day going successfully, not only because it tests her skills as a wedding planner but because it tests Brittany and Jason's relationship. Hell, it tests her and Brittany's relationship.

So she just shrugs. "Yeah. As long as it all goes well on the day, Shelby says I've got it," she elaborates and her words seem heavier than they're meant to be.

Brittany just stays silent, probably feeling the weight of this conversation too, and Santana can't stand that this is how it has to be. She can't stand that now she's told her because she wasn't going to, but the truth just spills out when she's around her. And if she's honest, there's a tiny part of her that likes that she's told her because Brittany's sitting there, her vision flickering between her nails and dark brown eyes and Santana can't help but feel like there's something more that needs to be said. That there's something that might cause her this job, but for the best reason.

But no words are spoken about it. Nothing more is said and Santana just glances at the ground, eying a spot on the wooden floor and focusing hard for a good minute or two before turning on her heels and walking away silently. She walks away from it all, feeling like there's more than just words being left behind and she holds back the heat stinging at her eyelids as she makes her way to her bedroom.

And Brittany's just left staring at the retreating form of her best friend, next to the cup of tea that goes cold.

/

The day of the wedding dress comes and Santana tries to distract herself with everything possible. The journey to the store isn't great because she sits awkwardly next to Brittany's sister, Jenna, in the cab whilst listening to Brittany and Brittany's mom, Mary, discuss the desired pattern and color of the dress, and pointedly tries to ignore the sneer Brittany's younger sister's giving her.

They've never really got along, and Santana doesn't really know why but she thinks it could be because she once walked in on Jenna going at it with the boy next door, who happened to be seven years older than her when she was eighteen, and she told Brittany and well, long story short, Brittany's mom found out and Jenna's grounded until she's twenty-three. She's only twenty now.

But anyway, Santana just sits there in the journey and when they get to the store, they all get out the cab and pile into the store. There's a packet of cigarettes in her pocket she knows she's going to need later and that's only confirmed when a woman with a too-sweet smile greets them with a glass of champagne each and Mary begins screaming over how exciting this day is. Santana just ignores it all, the champagne too, as she heads to the cream and white section. The rest of the Pierce's follow and she just takes a seat on one of the sofas after she hands one of the assistants the few dresses Brittany picked out a few weeks back because now it's pretty much just up to Brittany.

Of course, Mary decides to make a huge fuss about all the dresses, pointing out every tiny little thing wrong about them when Brittany tries them on like "too much skin showing" or "the hem is too fluffy" and Santana rolls her eyes when the last dress is dismissed. Seriously, it's like trying to impress the devil, and she just ends up grunting under her breath and giving Brittany that, "what the fuck" look which cracks a smile out the girl.

(That alone almost makes it better.)

"None of these are even remotely flattering for you, Brittany," Mary comments and for what feels like the millionth time, Santana gives her a dead look. Brittany could make fucking garbage bag look flattering and she swears in a second she's going to take that seventh glass of champagne Mary's taking and throw it over her head if another remark comes out her mouth.

So to distract herself, she just types away at her Blackberry and listens to Brittany's mom busying about trying to find the perfect dress, even though Brittany's capable of making any dress look perfect, until there's excited, hushed whispers and Brittany's rushed back into the dressing room with Mary behind her. Even then she's not that focused on what's going on, and continues scanning through the calendar for the next few months, taking notes of what she needs to do and how she can do it without getting too close to Brittany, she finds herself a little more tuned to the current situation when Mary steps out the dressing room and speaks to the entire room.

"We found it," she says and her voice is so full of pride and excitement that it causes Santana to glance up. "We found the one."

And it's lucky she did, because the second Brittany steps out the dressing room, the entire room joins in with a collective gasp because she's so damn beautiful. Santana feels the breath ripped straight from her chest and everything just disappears around them because yeah, she has to agree with Mary on this one – she's definitely found the one.

Because Brittany's standing there in a straight sleeveless floor length white dress, her hair golden and wild around her shoulders and Santana's seen her in pretty much everything and thought she was beautiful, yet this has beaten the entire lot. Brittany's never been more gorgeous than she has now and Santana finds herself shifting forward on the sofa to get a closer look, to make sure this is actually real because she looks so perfect Santana's afraid if she reached out to touch her, she might just disappear.

It brings all these emotions flooding to her chest and there's a voice in the back of her mind telling her that this is wrong, that Shelby wouldn't approve of this, of the way she's gazing at the blonde like she's the best thing she's ever seen because she's supposed to be being professional. Yet Santana just can't bring herself to care. It's almost wrong to think that this isn't right, that Brittany wearing that dress and gazing back at her with this deep blue meaningful eyes isn't right, and even though it's not for her, she knows that in another world, it could've been. That it should've been.

Because she's not in this alone.

She knows she's not because Brittany's staring at her and twirling around slowly and telling her things she could never say out loud with her eyes and it's killing her but it just feels so damn good. There are many reasons, so many reasons, why she shouldn't be locked into this stare with damning blue eyes, why she shouldn't just want to pick Brittany up and run away with her and forget everything behind them and start a life together, but they're just so hard to focus on right now because Brittany's gazing back like she wants the same thing.

But who is she kidding. She's just fooling herself into making something more than it is, and despite it being one of the hardest things she's ever had to do, she manages to tear her eyes away and look off to the right. Because even if in another world, Santana should be seeing Brittany on the way down the aisle wearing this dress and looking forward to spending the rest of their lives together, that world isn't this one.

This is the real world, the reality, and that's something she's just got to face.

So she takes a deep breath, picks her Blackberry back up and pretends like someone's ringing her as she excuses herself out the store, ignoring the disappointed and sad look thrown her way through shining blue eyes.

/

Fifteen minutes later and she's still standing outside, debating whether to just spark up a cigarette despite the snarl she'll receive from Jenna and Mary. She's flicking the lighter back and forth in her other hand and staring up at the sky, wondering when the hell it got so dark when she realizes it's already six thirty in the evening when she decides to fuck the world and just spark one up because she doesn't give a crap.

But two drags into the cigarette, a chill crawls up her spine and she folds her arm over her chest, holding back the bitter laughter because she always has those chills when a certain somebody is around her. Yet she doesn't turn around to look at Brittany, only silently questions why the girl is out here because it's her wedding dress that needs to be chosen.

"Smoking's a bad habit," she comments and Santana smiles down at the ground, slowly turning around.

"I can think of worse," she responds and sucks her lips in, flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette. "Why are you out here?"

Brittany takes a step forward, crossing her arms over her chest when the cold wind blows. "Why are you ignoring me?"

"Why are you answering a question with a question?" Santana fires back and takes another drag, but blue eyes just stare her down, a fair eyebrow cocking quizzically and she just chuckles mirthlessly. "I'm not," she finally answers. "I'm just trying to do my job."

"Is your job to push me away?" The blonde asks and Santana ignores the squeezing in her chest. "Because you're doing pretty well."

There's no part of her that wants to admit that, that wants to tell Brittany that because a few days ago she told her that as long as everything goes well on the big day that she'll get the job of her dreams, and she doesn't want to put anymore pressure on her. But if she were honest, if she were going to tell her the truth then yes, part of her job currently is to push Brittany away. She can't have personal connections when it comes to wedding planning and she knows she's using that as an excuse but she's got to do that for her personal life, too. She can't keep being this close to Brittany when Brittany's going to get married and start a whole new life.

Santana can't be left behind.

Still she doesn't say that. She wouldn't say that and instead shrugs. "Your mom was kind of pissing me off," she says through laughter and it's not entirely untrue.

Brittany chuckles and bites her lip. "She's pissing me off, too, so I escaped to come and find you."

"To find me?" Santana furrows her brow but she's smiling. "Did you think I ran off?"

"Yeah," the blonde sighs and comes even closer. "I wouldn't have blamed you."

Santana lowers her head because she thinks Brittany's words have a lot more meaning to them, and that she meant for them to come across like that but she has nothing to say back. Nothing that won't get her in trouble and cause a bigger mess. Though it seems the blonde does because seconds later there's a hand on her forearm and she's glancing up into blue eyes that are flashing with a softness she's only ever seen when they look at her. It causes her chest to swell in a way she's missed but then Brittany's speaking and she's entirely tuned into the blonde.

"Let's go somewhere."

So simple, but so complicated. Yet she still finds herself saying, "Where?"

Brittany stares at her for a long moment, taking turns to look back to the store as if someone's about to come out and Santana gets these images of riding off into the sunset with Brittany on her arm but she knows it's not meant like that. She knows Brittany means just get out of here, away from Jenna and Mary, and the memory of the first night they met floods back to her in an instant. If only she could go back to that night and change everything.

"I've got an idea," Brittany suddenly says and Santana's hesitant but she knows she never had a chance so she just finds herself nodding and getting into the cab that pulls up by the sidewalk.

So much for separating herself.

/

"I still don't know how to skate, Britt."

Brittany giggles, rolls her eyes and sets a foot down on the ice, gliding straight across it like she's flying. About ten minutes ago they pulled up outside the Wollman Ice Rink at Central Park, and Santana gasped because she didn't even think that Brittany would remember this place, that Brittany would remember the significance of this place. But alas, Brittany did, and Santana's trying to figure out how not to fall on her ass like she did the night they met. Boy that must have made a good first impression.

The blonde flies back to Santana's side, offering out her hands and she looks at Santana so innocently it actually hurts. "Then I'll show you," she breathes and well, Santana's always been powerless to this girl. "Just take my hands."

With nothing but complete trust, she lets her palms fall into Brittany's and then the wind is blowing through her hair as the blonde pulls her back and across the rink. The lights hanging around the place are beautiful, reflecting against the dark canvas of the night sky and there's barely anyone around which makes this entire scenario nothing but amazing because it's just her and Brittany, but she's not focusing on that. She can't focus on that when Brittany's holding her eyes and moving her legs in and out as she skates backwards, guiding her. She can't focus on that when those blue eyes are telling her a million things and causing her chest to swoon.

She just can't focus on anything that isn't Brittany.

"How come you haven't learned to skate?"

Santana takes in a deep breath. "Because we've only ever been once," she admits.

Blue eyes squint slightly, but affection blooms within them and Santana hates the way she can see it. "You've only ever been once?" Brittany asks and twists her legs slightly, aiding the brunette to turn with her. "How come?"

There are so many responses Santana could say to this question. She could go with how she's never had time, or never wanted to, but there's only one honest answer and it's lame and cheesy and she knows she's going to kick herself in the morning for it because saying it is doing the complete opposite of what she needs to be doing, but it still comes out.

"It's not the same without you."

It comes out with as much meaning as emotionally possible and she hates herself for it the moment Brittany hears it because the blonde no longer winds her legs in and out, instead slowing them to a stop and cocking her head to the side. Her chest rises as she takes in a deepest of breaths and she lets out a long sigh, swallowing thickly and choosing to look down, but quickly back up through her lashes. It's one of those looks that makes Santana want to run away and hide because it was one of those looks that got her hooked on the girl in the first place.

"You don't make it easy, you know," she whispers, pulling Santana close.

Her breath hitches in her throat. "I don't make what easy?"

Brittany's eyes flash to her like she's said too much, and instead of words she just offers a weak smile and throws her arms around Santana's neck. Powerless to resist, Santana manages to shift forward without falling over and holds the girl as physically possible, breathing in the scent wafting up from the girls skin and she shuts her eyes, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed by being back here with Brittany. So much so that she has to swallow the lump in her throat, hold back the urge to let the tears fall from her eyes and bite down on the I love you that threatens to leave her tongue.

Because this isn't about them. Their whole history, from meeting at that club and coming to skate at the dead of night to skating here tonight, alone once again, has never really been about them because there's always been another piece to the puzzle. There's always been that factor that both wish in some capacity wasn't there, but it's something they can't change. It's hard to accept, to acknowledge that the person she loves, the person she craves for to fall asleep with and kiss because she can, isn't hers and never will be, but it's just one of those things that makes her want to throw her hands up in the air and curse at the skies because she doesn't know what she did to deserve it.

But still, that doesn't stop her thinking about how it could've been about them, how it should've been about them, and how that first night would've been the start of something epic, something beautiful.

If it wasn't for one little thing.

/

"I'm so glad I met you," Brittany whispered into her lips and Santana took a deep breath in, her heart palpitating within her chest as the words sunk in through her skin.

"You have no idea," she breathed back through a chuckle and that something was back in Brittany's eyes, making Santana spill nothing but honesty. "Meeting you has been the best thing that's ever happened to me."

They spoke no more, just gazed into each others eyes, reading each other in ways other people had never been able to until the cock struck two, and then the spell broke. It was always too good to be true, and as she was lying there, her hand on Brittany's cheek and her eyes locked into this never-ending stare, she wondered when it would come about. And it was only when the lights surrounding the ice rink flickered and finally turned off, that it came out.

"I'm seeing someone."

Santana jerked back immediately, her breath hitching in her throat. "What?" She asked, hoping she'd made it up in her head.

Brittany's eyes flicked down, her face flashing with guilt and Santana could feel her heart speeding up. "I..." The blonde started but caught her breath, shook her head and moved her hand away from a tanned face. "I'm seeing someone."

Yep, it was just what she thought. Santana moved her hand away from the blondes face, knowing how inappropriate it was to be lying there, just after kissing her, still holding her face and looking into her eyes because she'd found out Brittany wasn't entirely single. So she slowly backed away, deciding it was probably better to just get up and get going because she may have totally read the entire situation wrong. God. That was so embarrassing. Maybe Brittany was only being friendly and didn't want to kiss her, but felt like she had to because Santana asked her.

Fuck!

"Oh, shit," she breathed and sat up slowly, edging away. Blood rushed to her face and she pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her palms. "I didn't.. Im sorry," she blurted out and shook her head, glancing up at the blonde. She just felt so damn embarrassed. How could she have been so wrong? "I didn't... I didn't realize. I shouldn't have... Shit, I'm sorry, Brittany."

Brittany looked confused for a few moments, her eyebrows pulling together in the middle of her forehead, but then a light bulb flicked on in her head and she began frantically moving her head around from left to right, her hands reaching out to grab at Santana.

"No, no, Santana," she spluttered out, her blue eyes glossing over. She shifted forward until they were touching again, but when Santana didn't look up, she grabbed her cheeks, palms cradling her face and their eyes met. "I don't mean it like that, I just meant that..." She began to explain but it was like she couldn't find the right words. She blew out a long stream of air and her shoulders dropped, and Santana had never seen someone let down their walls so easily. She'd never seen someone let her in and be so vulnerable within hours of meeting her. This girl was different... and it was amazing. "I've just never met someone like you," she finally came out with.

And just like that all the embarrassment disappeared. Everything she'd just felt in the past minute of finding out Brittany wasn't single just vanished because that one little sentence was more than she needed. She could've been mad that Brittany had let her kiss her despite seeing someone. She could've been hurt that Brittany would do that to her and she could've stormed out the ice rink and never seen the girl again, but she knew it was worth it. And it seemed Brittany knew it was worth it too because even despite all that, despite the object in their path, Brittany still wanted to kiss her and felt like she could trust Santana enough to tell her afterward, without making her want to run away.

But the most significant and most important part of that sentence, is that Santana knew Brittany felt it too. She knew despite how wrong it was for them to kiss, she felt this connection, this spark between them and it was undeniable.

"Me neither," she breathed because she couldn't be mad at Brittany if she tried.

The blonde just sighed heavily, her hands dropping from Santana's face and landing on tanned ones instead, fingers threading together. "God, we have such bad timing. I wish it wasn't like this."

It was said with a slight chuckle in her tone and Santana mirrored it, lifting her shoulders and dropping them heavily in large shrug. "Well, it's not like you're gonna marry the guy, is it?" She joked, the corners of her lips turning up.

Brittany just looked up through her lashes, slight shock flashing behind her eyes because she knew that was Santana's way of saying she'd wait for her. She knew it was and Santana meant it that way which is why she wasn't getting up and sprinting away, telling Brittany what she did was totally unfair because it kind of was, and instead was sitting here. All she had to do was wait for this girl, and if that night was anything to go by, it was going to be worth it when the time came.

So all she had to do was give it time.

And she did just that.

/

In hindsight, Santana could've avoided all this pain and confusion if she'd just walked away that night. If she'd just got up, never looked back and left Brittany behind. But there's a part of her that knows she couldn't have done that really. She knows she couldn't because the second she locked eyes with those damning blue eyes all those years ago in that club, she was hooked. There was no way of getting out, even if she'd tried, and in some ways she believes fate brought them together.

Though if fate did do that, fate's kind of shitty.

"We should be going," she breathes into the cold air, pulling herself away from Brittany. "I'm sure Jason's wondering where you are."

The blonde gives her the same look she's been giving her for a while now. It's the one that's questioning why Santana's being weird, why Santana's trying to push her away but Santana can't do anything but do the same thing she's been doing for a while in response; just shrug and offer a weak smile. It's all she can bring herself to do without letting the truth spill from her lips, including those three words that she just can't say, and so she bites her tongue, turns around and carefully makes her way back to the edge of the ice rink, stepping out and heading off to get her shoes again.

/

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