Anonymous asked: 58. "I've made a mistake."

Eventually, they both get over the flu and Santana's flower shop is almost ready to be reopened. Brittany knows Santana's anxious to get back to work because she keeps zoning out and playing with her hands. There's tension in her shoulders and her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes all the time, so Brittany makes it her personal mission to help Santana relax. It doesn't work all the time, but whenever Santana's nose scrunches and her eyes sparkle with laughter, Brittany can't help the pride that flutters in her chest knowing she's the reason for her the tension melting out of her girlfriend's body.

She offers to go with Santana to the shop a couple days before its reopening and help with some last minute things. Santana fidgets with Brittany's fingers the entire way over, and Brittany lets her. The air's starting to turn sharp with the scent of coming rains and new growth; the mornings and evenings stay cool and the afternoon sun warms the spring puddles. Santana shivers and Brittany quickly shrugs out of her jacket and drapes it over Santana's shoulders before she can argue. Santana blushes, Brittany can tell because she gets that dopey, bashful smile and her eyes dart down as her chin dips towards her chest. Her fingers still in Brittany's and she curls closer to her in the spring breeze.

They make it to the shop in good time. The sign above the shop has been updated because of the smoke damage it suffered; the bells above the door jingle as the step through the door, and Santana starts playing with Brittany's fingers again. Brittany hasn't actually seen the shop for a while, she's gotten pretty busy with her cases and she has a feeling that Santana has been trying to keep Brittany away from the shop for some reason (Brittany's pretty sure it's Santana's growing fear and anxiety about the reopening, but she doesn't push Santana, just patiently waits for her to invite her in again).

The walls are now a soft cream colour with pale blue accents that look suspiciously like the exact same shade as Brittany's eyes (Brittany doesn't notice, but Santana remembers how easy it was to pick out that shade of blue out of the paint shop samples and she closely inspects the front display to hide her sudden flush of embarrassment). Santana had helped the architect design the new layout; the fire hadn't completely destroyed the shop, but Santana had decided, along with the insurance money and Brittany's urging support, she was successful enough to warrant a little bit of a renovation along with the repairs. The cash register and wrapping area is now in the middle of the shop in a small island with thick counters, and the coolers are where the cash register used to be along the back wall. Islands of flowers dot the shop in complimentary colours that Brittany knows Santana would have spent hours choosing and re-choosing what flowers and colours and vases to put where. The new layout is really cute and suits Santana far better than the space she made work because she didn't have another option; looking around the shop, Brittany can feel all the love and sweat and tears that went into making this place perfect.

At the front of the island, right where every single person who walks into the store will see before anything else, are sprinklings of daisies, and Brittany blushes and bites her lip to try and contain the butterflies fluttering around her stomach; the first time Brittany brought Santana flowers, she picked out daisies because they had always made her happy, and it wasn't until months later when Santana explained the meaning behind each flower did she realize what a big deal it was. Daisies, Santana had said, her voice softer and more delicate than Brittany had ever heard, generally symbolized innocence and purity, new beginnings, and true love. It was that last one that had sent a lightning arc of adoration and love shooting through Brittany's chest as she realized what that first bouquet of flowers really meant, especially to Santana.

Santana's walking along the back wall, inspecting the coolers and doing temperature checks while Brittany stares at the display of daisies, delicately tracing the petals of some with her fingertips, her head thudding in her ears and her chest blooming with love all over again. As she wanders the store, Brittany's eyes keep drifting to Santana's. She can only see the back of Santana's head and her shoulders from where she stands; she's not quite sure how she knows, but she somehow knows that Santana is filling with nerves every second that brings them closer to the opening day.

"Hey, Britt?" Santana calls, startlingly Brittany out of her musings with a small jump. Brittany clears her throat and makes a sound of acknowledgement. "Can you find the temperature check sheet," she asks, "I think it's somewhere in the middle island. Maybe underneath the cash register?"

Brittany quickly agrees and crosses the store to slip behind the hinged bar counter on the island, kneeling down and searching for the papers Santana needs. As she shifts through the things on the shelves under the cash register, something rustles near the back and Brittany crouches further under the counter to locate the elusive papers.

"Fuck!" Santana suddenly shouts from the other side of the shop.

Brittany jumps and hits her head on the underside of the counter, muttering a curse herself as she stands up. "What's wrong?" Brittany calls.

Santana stands stiffly, facing away from her, but Brittany can see the tension in her back even from across the store. "I've made a mistake," she hisses. "This is— It's all wrong. I don't—" Santana cuts herself off with a frustrated growl, and then her shoulders rolls in and she completely deflates. "I don't even know if I want to reopen the store," she admits in a broken whisper.

Brittany's curiosity shifts into worry so quickly it makes her stomach twist violently. "San?" she asks, but Santana doesn't answer her.

"I just want this place to go back to normal," she whispers.

Brittany can't see her face, but she can hear the tears in her voice, and her chest aches. She quickly ducks under the hinged counter and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Santana, moulding to her back and burying her face in the dark hair spread around her shoulders. "What's wrong?" she murmurs in Santana's ear.

Santana takes a shaky, watery breath and shakes her head. "These shelves— They're not— And there's still—"

Brittany nuzzles further into Santana, trapping her against her body and drawing soothing patterns across her stomach. Santana takes a deep breath and then melts back into Brittany, letting her girlfriend draw out the tension and anxiety in her body.

"Santana?" Brittany whispers. Santana doesn't make any sound of acknowledgement, but the way she threads her fingers through Brittany's tells Brittany all she needs to know. "I know how nervous you are about reopening the store," it's a testament to how anxious Santana is that she doesn't even try to argue with Brittany, "That it will never be the same as it was or whatever, but trust me, it will all work out again."

Santana breathes shakily and Brittany can feel how she chews on her lip by the way her jaw twitches against Brittany's temple. "I just— What if everything falls apart again?"

"Then I'll be right here with you to help pick up the pieces," Brittany promises easily. It's something she's known almost as long as she's known Santana, that she'll always do whatever she can to help her with anything. For as long as Santana lets her, she's never going to leave Santana alone because she's always going to be right beside her holding her hand and facing whatever life throws at them. "So sure, maybe it won't go right at the beginning. But people love this shop; Trevor, that beat cop who always brings you to my desk when you bring me lunch, has been raving about your shop for, like, years. Long before I met you, at least. Every time I see him he asks when the shop's going to reopen because you make the most beautiful bouquets and his boyfriend hasn't gotten him any flowers since the fire because he can't get them from you."

Brittany can feel Santana's pulse jump where her wrist is pressed to Brittany's arm. "Really?" she whispers, and she sounds so soft and open and hopeful that Brittany falls in love with her all over again right in that moment.

"Really, really," she promises. "His boyfriend gets him flowers from here, like, once a month at least."

"Wait, is his boyfriend that guy with the weirdly perfect hair—"

"And those fancy glasses—"

"And he's always wearing the floral dress shirts—"

"Yeah that's him."

Santana laughs, and despite how nervous and airy it is, it's still genuinely delighted. "I can't believe I never made the connection. I've been writing 'For Trevor' and delivering flowers to the precinct for almost as long as I've been open. I thought Trevor was just starstruck because he admired you so much."

Brittany inwardly cheers as some of the tension starts to melt away from Santana's muscles. "And," Brittany continues, pressing her lips to the hinge of Santana's jaw, "even if everything falls apart and the shop completely bombs, I'll still love you forever."

Santana laughs softly and her cheek heats up against Brittany's. "Thank you," she murmurs, and Brittany knows it's for more than just reassuring her today.

"Now," Brittany whispers, tightening her arms around Santana, "Let's get ready to make this opening on Sunday our bitch."

Santana opens and blooms in Brittany's arms, and she can almost feel the excitement overtake the nerves in Santana's veins as she brightens. She twists in Brittany's arms to lean up and kiss Brittany, soft and deep and appreciative. The kiss ends before Brittany wants it to (though she thinks that about all of their kisses), but her pout is quickly replaced by a grin when Santana starts to roll up the sleeves of Brittany's jacket. "Let's do this," she says, and the determined and adoring sparkle in her eyes as she looks at Brittany makes Brittany need to kiss her again, and considering the smile Brittany feels against her lips, Santana doesn't mind the delayed start to putting the finishing touches on the shop one bit.