Author's Note: Well, I'd like to start by apologizing for the long time between updates. I really struggled writing this chapter, but finally got it done. I hope you enjoy and thank you all for you great reviews!
"Tell me you love me lots of times," Santana said, curling herself into Brittany.
"I love you lots of times," Brittany said, giggling into Santana's dark hair.
"Ladies!" A shout came from outside the door. "Quick reminder, these walls are not, despite your unyielding belief, soundproof, we follow and open door policy in this house, and Brittany, you are to sleep in the guest room when you're over!"
"Ugh, mami! Just give up all ready."
"Never, Santana. Get up and go to your own room." Santana begrudgingly got up and opened the door.
"You know, we're going to be in college in like 6 months, and then there's nothing you can do about us sharing a room."
"Is this college, Santana?" Santana simply scowled at her mother. "I didn't think so. Now, you know we have a big day today, I suggest you two get up, I'm going to need all the help I can get." Her mother proceeded down the hall and Santana shut her door.
"MIJA!" Maria yelled down the hall. "I will be sending your brothers up every ten minutes, so you had better just get up!"
"Ugh," Santana groaned, crawling back in bed with Brittany.
"Brothers?" Brittany said.
"Plural. I guess they've started to arrive." Santana said, burying herself in her pillow.
Maria never lied, and sure enough, every ten minutes a different brother was bellowing at the door. Santana was mad. She was mad because it was her winter vacation, mad because her super hot girlfriend was naked in her bed, and made because anyone who knew Santana Lopez should know that she loved her some morning sex. Except maybe her brothers. Who, unfortunately, were interrupting her favorite morning pastime every ten minutes.
"SANTANA!" Daniel yelled at the door. "Christian says that if you don't show up downstairs in ten minutes that he's going to send Laura and Sarah up here and have them just open the door because he doesn't want to see your gross ass naked."
"Ugh," Santana groaned again, rolling off Brittany. "We really have to get up." Brittany pouted. "Don't do that to me, Britt! I don't want them walking in on us…"
"San…" Brittany began. "San! Santana! It's snowing!" Brittany jumped over to the window and stared at the snowfall. Santana rose to join her girlfriend at the window, standing on her tiptoes so she could rest her head on Brittany's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist. "Can we go out in it?"
"Anything you want, Britt Britt," Santana said, kissing Brittany's shoulder.
"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I'm scarred." Santana's head whipped around to see Laura and Sarah standing in the doorway. Laura had her hand over her face and Sarah was turned around.
"I'm going to kill Christian."
"Your boyfriend's an asshole."
Santana had jumped back under the covers, but Brittany was still just staring out at the snow in awe.
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Santana snapped at them.
"Your brother told us to just come on up, you needed advice on an outfit." Sarah said.
"And you believed him? When have I ever asked you for clothing advice, Sarah? Ever since you went to college you started dressing like a lesbian circa 1993. And I would know."
"I didn't even know they made flannel in so many colors." Brittany deadpanned.
"And don't get me started on you, Laura, you dress like…"
"I like Laura's style. It's like Hilary Clinton. And Rachel. All mixed together." Santana merely gestured at Brittany who had proven her point.
"Are you just going to stand there ogling us? Cause I know Britts and I are probably the hottest thing you've seen in years, judging on your poor taste in men, but I don't think my brothers would appreciate you wanting to get all up on this." Sarah rolled her eyes into the empty hallway.
"Yeah, that'd be like, impetuous or something."
"Incestuous, Britt."
"We're leaving, Santana, don't worry," Sarah said. "I have to go wash my eyes out with bleach."
"Don't do that!" Brittany yelled as Sarah shut the door behind them. "I washed a blue shirt with bleach once and got pink splotches all over it! And your eyes are such a pretty color, I don't want them to get all splotchy!"
"And here we were thinking that she'd stop being such a bitch after she came out," Laura said to Sarah as they walked downstairs to beat Carlos and Christian up.
"Also, what the hell was Brittany talking about?" Laura asked.
"That's just Brittany," Sarah said, "you'll get used to her."
"What's for breakfast, mami?" Santana asked, opening the fridge once she and Brittany finally made it downstairs.
"You missed breakfast, mija."
"What do you mean, I missed breakfast?"
"I mean, had you come down here when you were supposed to, you could have had a delicious meal with everyone else. But you missed your chance. Now you have to help me get ready for our guests."
"I don't get what the big deal is."
"The big deal, Santana, is that we're having a lot of people over for the game this afternoon, and I can't prepare everything myself." Maria glanced over at Brittany, who was busy messily making herself a bowl of cereal on the other counter. "Santana," she hissed out, under her breath, "I understand that you are generally an unhelpful and disagreeable child if you can find anyway to be," Maria began, ignoring her daughter's scowl, "however, I don't think I should have to remind you of the importance of today. Brittany's family will be here, and I don't want to think about how unhappy Brittany will be if things don't go well." Santana tried to conceal the worry on her face. "I mean, what if Brittany is sad, mija? What if she cries?"
"Oh, cut it out, mami," Santana said. "You can't trick me into being helpful."
"Think about it, Santana." Maria returned to shredding the chicken for the enchiladas. Santana walked into the hall, leaving a disappointed Maria in the kitchen. She had been sure that a sad Brittany would trick her daughter into being at least a little bit helpful.
"Kurt?" Maria looked up as she heard Santana's voice coming from the hall. "Kurt, wake the fuck up…oh god, I don't care what you and Frodo did last night. Not my problem. I need you to get over here…" Maria smirked. "Porcelain? Way. Too. Much. Information. Look, B's family is coming over to watch the game and everything has to be perfect and my douchebag brothers are here and my mom and I can't do it on our own. And I know you never say no to planning a party." Maria struggled to stifle a chuckle as she heard her only daughter pace up and down the hall. "Great, I'll see you in twenty."
"You're tricky, Maria," Brittany said from the kitchen table, eating her Fruit Loops. Maria had forgotten she was in the room and simply nodded at the girl. "I understand where Santana gets it from, now."
"Please, Brittany, I love you, but don't compare me to that child. I've made it Pro and she barely has a hope at the Minor Leagues."
"You know it," Brittany said, grinning and taking another bite of her cereal. A few seconds later, Santana showed up in the kitchen.
"I guess I can help you mami," Santana said, coming back into the kitchen, "but only because I'm not even that hungry, and I don't have anything better to do." Maria smiled.
"Whatever you say dear. Can you chop those onions?" Santana pulled out a chopping board and set to work on a bushel of green onions. "Since we have this precious time together, I figured we could discuss your apparent inability to follow my open door policy." Santana rolled her eyes. She wished she had stayed in bed.
Everyone knew Brittany couldn't follow a recipe to save her life. As it stood, Maria had spent far more time than appropriate cleaning up the remnants of Brittany's cereal from the morning. Brittany had, however, grown up around the cooking of Santana, Maria, and Santana's abuela. She could make enchiladas, huevos rancheros, and her sweet potato tacos were pretty much to die for. Brittany's real secret, though, was her five layer dip.
"Abulelita taught me and said I couldn't tell anyone until I was married," Brittany would say anytime she was questioned. She stood in the corner of the kitchen working hard on her dip, making sure that no one learned abuelita's secret. She jumped when Santana snuck up behind her, kissing her shoulder.
"Baby," Santana cooed in her ear, "can I have a bite? I'm hungry…I still haven't had breakfast…"
"Santana! You know the rules! No one can have the dip until it's done, and I'm not allowed to tell anyone how to make it themselves." Santana did her best attempt at a pout. "I can't let abuelita down," Brittany said, sincerely. Santana smiled—Brittany was the only one in her family to call her grandmother abuelita, and Santana was pretty sure her grandmother had appreciated that.
"But, Britt, what if you tragically die and no one is around to carry on our family recipe."
"I thought of that already, Santana. I wrote everything abuelita told me in my diary, so you don't have to worry. I figured the only one who could read it now is Charity, and I'm pretty sure she can't reach the counter to make it herself." Santana scowled and Brittany kissed her cheek, giggling. "I can only tell once I get married, so if you play your cards right, maybe I can let you know one day. Or if I die. You know what my diary looks like."
"Let's hope it's the former, Britt," Santana replied, not wanting to think about what life would be like without Brittany. She then remembered what the former was, with the dreaded 'm' word. "You know what? I'm going to go give Kurt a hand." Santana hurriedly went to find her well-coiffed friend. Maria looked over at Brittany.
"You're pretty tricky yourself, you know that, Ms. Brittany?"
"Obviously. How could I have made her stick around so long if I wasn't?" Maria laughed and returned to the empanada shells she was struggling to create.
In just an hour the Lopez household had really started to fill up, and Santana tried to pretend to not be annoyed by it. She just didn't understand why her house was such the go-to location for the family reunions, holidays, et cetera, and had decided years ago that it had to be related to some ridiculous obsession with spending the holidays in a place where it actually snowed as opposed to sunny Los Angeles where most of her family lived. Where she would rather be at the moment. Combine the incoming relatives with the fact that the Lopez household had always been the hangout for the friends' of their four children and an afternoon of simply watching a football game inevitably became a ful on party. Santana chose to spend the time until the Pierce's arrived hiding in her dungeon of a bedroom flipping through a copy of Rolling Stone.
"Peep?" Came a knock at the door. "You in there?"
"Yeah," Santana yelled. "Come in!"
"I knew you'd be up here, kiddo," Rita said, entering the room and taking a seat next to Santana's dresser. "You ever consider bringing some color into this room?" Santana merely scowled at her aunt. "I tried to get some of that dip from your girlfriend, but she's not letting anyone near it. So unfortunate. I still can't believe that Brittany is the only person my mother entrusted that mouthgasm of a recipe to."
"Hey!" Santana finally responded, looking up from her magazine. "That's my girlfriend!"
"Yeah, but my mother didn't know that at the time."
"I'm pretty sure abuela knew."
"Yeah?" Rita asked, raising her eyebrows. Santana simply nodded. "Why are you hiding up here, Peep?"
"Too many people," Santana said simply. Rita waited for her to elaborate, but Santana continued reading the magazine. "What?" She asked, finally tired of Rita's gaze boring into her.
"I just so was not expecting to see the return of angry, mopey, insecure Santana Lopez on this trip. Get it together, Peep. Wanna sneak outside and bum a cigarette?"
"You're like the worst aunt ever. I don't know why my mom lets me spend time with you."
"Because I'm the baby, and therefore all of my bad behavior is, in fact, adorable. Daniel really ruined that for you, didn't he?"
"Obviously. Let's go to the porch."
Unfortunately, the porch was already taken over by some of her brothers' old friends from High School, so Rita and Santana snuck out for a full on walk.
"What's going on with you, Peep? I know that Britt is having a hard time with her parents, but you seemed to be doing so well?"
"Everything is fine."
"Santana. Do not give me that bullshit now. A year ago, maybe I could have handled it. After the summer, however, you no longer have any right to put up your bullshit Lopez aloof and brooding persona anymore. So tell me, is it Britt, is it your parents, is it school? What's going on with you?"
"I don't know, Rita!" Santana finally burst out. "I don't know what's wrong anymore!" Santana turned to face her aunt, taking a long puff of her cigarette. "I mean, everything is so fucking perfect right now. Britt is perfect, school is perfect, my family couldn't give a shit about me being…gay…the only person with the problem is Mr. Pierce…and I guess... I'm pissed! I'm pissed the fuck off because I get Mr. Pierce! I'm pissed off because I hate him, and I hate what he's doing to Britt right now, but I also understand him, and I wish I didn't. I wish I didn't fucking understand." Rita was taken aback. She certainly hadn't expected that.
"What do you mean, Santana?"
"I mean that ever since the summer everyone has been pushing me. Pushing me to come out to the Glee Club, pushing me to come out to my family, pushing me into joining the GSA…and I'm supposed to like, explain why being okay is gay, or whatever, but half the time I don't even know if I believe it myself."
"Peep—" Rita began.
"No, let me finish. You dragged me out here in sub-zero degree weather so you are going to hear the rest of what I have to say. It took me five years of being...intimate...with Brittany to even acknowledge to myself that I was gay, and even then I only did it because you hang out with fucking lesbians all the time. No one ever considers that maybe I'm not miraculously cool with all of this all of a sudden. I still don't like labels. I don't want to run around extolling the joys of being out and proud. I just want to love Brittany and have it be something normal and not something I have to fucking talk to everyone about all the time!"
"Honey, this is something you're going to have to learn how to deal with."
"Why? I've accepted who I am, Rita. I know that I am gay, but I don't want to run around shouting it from the rooftops and forcing other people to like it."
"Why not, Santana?" Santana paused, throwing her cigarette into the snow. She just shrugged her shoulders. "You'll get there, kid, it just takes time."
"I don't want to get there."
"You're not going to be happy until you do."
One thing Maria would never question was her ability to throw a party. Well, that and her ability to read the minds, and thus control, any Lopez that crossed her path, from her husband, right down through all 4 of her children. Things had been a little awkward when the Pierce's first arrive, but by the second quarter everyone had fallen into their pretty much expected roles. Santana and Rita were fighting with Christian and his friends about some play that had just occurred. Carlos was glued to the game, sitting on the couch next to some of his cousins, while Laura and Sarah awkwardly made small talk. Kurt was doing Brittany's makeup in the corner and Alexis was texting someone furiously on her phone.
"This turned out well, don't you think, Maria?" Caroline Pierce asked, approaching her in the kitchen. Maria nodded. "I was wondering if you all were free to come for dinner, perhaps the day after Christmas this year? I'd love to have you. I think everyone together like this is really helping her father come along. And what's good for Brittany is good for Santana, right?"
"I'd love to, Caroline." Maria said.
"So, are all you boys on the football team?" Mr. Pierce asked as the commercials came on.
"Everyone but me," Blaine said, "although I am a football fan. Mainly college football, but you know, a fan nonetheless."
"I played football in high school. QB."
"Me too," Finn grinned. Sam looked down at his shoes.
"Well, it's nice to meet you boys. Brittany hardly ever brings any of her friends home from school."
"I'm surprised Santana even let me in the house," Finn said. Mr. Lopez let out a huge chuckle at this. "I wasn't going to come, but Kurt dragged me along. Speaking of…" Kurt approached the group.
"How's your little game going?" Kurt asked, flitting his hand at the television.
"We're losing," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt.
"Well, I just gave Brittany some of my homemade facial lotion—it's milk, olive oil, and ground coffee beans—it really does wonders for your complexion. You might want to think about it, Finn." Finn and Sam's faces were scrunched up at the thought.
"But…like won't your face start to smell while the ingredients rot?" Sam asked.
Mr. Pierce chuckled to himself, returning his attention to the commercials on the TV while the boys discussed Kurt's skincare regime. He didn't have a problem with gay people, he really didn't, but what he had just witnessed was the perfect example of why he couldn't imagine his little blond dancer being gay. He had just had a perfectly normal conversation with a group of teenage boys who reminded him of himself as a teenager. They talked about sports, Finn's girlfriend, he even snuck them some beer—just the normal behavior for a red-blooded American man. Kurt, however came in and changed the conversation with his obsession with skincare. He didn't particularly care if Kurt was gay, or if Kurt loved skincare, but he had to acknowledge that Kurt was different from straight men. Just like Santana, who was currently wrestling with her brother over a play. While the rest of the women chatted quietly by themselves or let Kurt do their makeup and helped Maria in the kitchen (even in his inner-monologue he wished he hadn't had the last thought), Santana watched sports with the guys. Santana was different. Kurt was different. Brittany, however, was not different. She was just…confused. Maybe if he could get her to spend a little less time with Santana, she would come to realize that.
"Well," Kurt said, "if you ever feel the need to actually take care of your looks, you know I live just down the hall. Now, Blaine, will you give me a hand with a couple trays in the kitchen? I promise I'll have you back before the commercials are over." Mr. Pierce struggled to not roll his eyes.
"Fine, baby, but only because you are giving me that adorable face right now, and you know I can't say no."
"That's what I thought," Kurt said, leaning in to give Blaine a chaste kiss on the lips. Kurt led him to the kitchen hand in hand. Mr. Pierce tried to contain his shock. Well, that was the boy who didn't actually play football, just claimed to watch it.
"Blaine is such a pushover," Karofsky laughed. "Are all Dalton boys that easy to manipulate, Sam?"
"How should I know?" Sam asked, blushing.
"Okay, we all know you went on a date with Wes," Finn said. "I got killed at level one in Halo because of all of Kurt's squealing about it."
"Even I knew about it," Mr. Lopez said.
"You're just jealous, Karofsky." Sam said, shrugging.
Okay, Mr. Pierce thought to himself, trying to focus on the game that had come back on. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe, for the first time in his life, it wasn't Brittany who was confused. It was him.
"Fuck Rita," Santana thought to herself as she ate her fiftieth chip of the day, smothered in Brittany's dip. With Rita came drinking, and with drinking came Santana really, really, struggling to maintain some kind of decorum amongst the many strangers in her home, and her girlfriend's parents'.
"Get it together, Peep," Rita said, laughing at the positively predatory expression on Santana's face as she eyed Brittany. "I think you're drooling."
"This is your fault for making me drink! Again!"
"Listen, I had an idea. Maybe you should invite that girl you met at that picnic thing you had to the New Years Eve party?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because support is good. Because you have no lesbian friends your own age and maybe this will help you deal with whatever it is you are silently coping with?"
"I'll think about it."
"And tell her to bring her friends."
"I said I'll think about it, Ri."
"Good. Now where has Kurt run off to?"
"Why?"
"I need to see if his aunt is going to be in town for the holidays." Santana was really surprised she didn't vomit.
Pretty much all the guests had left, with the exception of the relatives who were staying at the Lopez's for the duration of the holidays. There were too many houseguests, so Brittany was going back with her parents.
"Mom?" Brittany asked, shyly. "Do you think Santana can spend the night?"
"You know you have to ask your father."
"Ask your father what?" Mr. Pierce asked, sneaking up behind them.
"Nothing. Nevermind."
"What did you need to ask, Brittany?"
"I just was wondering if maybe, if it's okay with you, if you know, because were not going to see each other for awhile, if maybe Santana could sleepover?"
"You sleep in separate rooms. And your grandparents will be arriving early in the morning."
"Is that a yes?" Brittany asked excitedly. Her father just nodded. Brittany ran, squealing over to Santana who was standing on the other side of the room and jumped into her arms. "You can stay over!" Santana smiled at the huge grin on Brittany's face, and gave her a quick peck on the lips. She briefly locked eyes with Mr. Pierce who had been staring at them. His eyes weren't angry this time, just sad and empty. Before she could think about it too much, he had turned and walked out of the door.
Santana gently shut the door to the Pierce's guest room and tiptoed across the hall. She came face to face with Brittany's littlest sister, Gracie, looking up at her.
"Hey, Gracie," she whispered.
"Hey, Sany. Whatcha doin in the guest room."
"Sleeping,"
"You and Britt fighting?"
"No, why?"
"Well, when mom and dad fight, dad has to sleep in the guest room."
"Oh, no, Britt and I aren't fighting. You know how we talked a little while ago about how I'm Britt's girlfriend?" Gracie nodded. "Well that's why I'm sleeping in the guest room. You can't sleep in the same bed with someone until you get married."
"Oh," Gracie said, nodding. "But weren't you Britt's girlfriend before?" Gracie asked.
"Why don't we talk about this in the morning. Let me help you get tucked in." Santana led Grace by the hand and tucked her into her bed before tiptoeing back down the hall to Brittany's room. Brittany was asleep. Of course. Santana climbed in after her and wrapped her arms around her waist.
"I love you lots of times, B." She whispered as she drifted off to sleep.