Author's Note: So so sorry for the long delay in updates. I'm working on way too many stories right now, and I just don't have the time. Anyway, I hate this chapter, it's part of a two part Prom but it got too long so I decided to make you all wait for the prom, but mainly because I thought I should put something up for this story since it's been so long. Anyway, I'm sorry, I love all of your reviews, and I hope you enjoy!

"Guys, please settle down!" Mr. Schuester yelled over his class. "I understand that a lot of you have a severe case of Senioritis right now, but we still have Nationals to look forward to, and think of what a great cap it would be to you Senior year if we take it this year!"

"Mr. Schuester's right," Rachel said, clapping her hands together and standing up in front of the class, "and despite the fact that I would love to be out celebrating the two acceptance letters I received to NYU and Julliard today," Santana rolled her eyes, "we really should be preparing for Nationals." Rachel returned to her seat. "I will be attending NYU, in the event anyone was wondering." Rachel said to the club with a grin.

"Does NYU have a glee club?" Kurt asked, leaning down to Rachel. "Because if it does, I'm sure it could use our talent …"

"How about that, Santana?" Quinn asked over to Santana who was on the other side of the choir room. "Do you think USC has a glee club? We could be cheerleaders and glee clubbers together again," Quinn smirked.

"Like I'm spending more time than I have to with your stretch marked ass, Q," Santana snapped at her.

After attempting to ramble on about original songs and watching the kids mindlessly flip through their rhyming dictionaries as they bickered with each other, Mr. Schuester finally gave up and let them out of class early. Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and dragged her out of the classroom and into the nearest bathroom, immediately pinning her against the door in a searing kiss.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Santana asked, rubbing her hands up and down Brittany's sides.

"I want to go to GSA," Brittany said, her head thrown back as Santana kissed up her neck and collarbone. Santana grasped Brittany's hips, pulling them closer to her.

"Why do you want to talk about being gay when we can actually go home and, you know, be gay?" Santana asked between kisses. Before Brittany could reply, someone tried to open the door, followed by loud banging. "Occupied!" Santana yelled.

"Santana! Stop feeling Brittany up and let me in! I have to pee!" Quinn yelled.

"Jesus, Fabray! Go use another bathroom! There are, like, 40 at this school. I'd think you'd know that considering the amount of time you spend in them!" It took just one look at Brittany to know this was a losing fight, however, and Santana backed off the door to let Quinn in.

"You guys are gross," Quinn said, heading toward a stall."

"I was being serious, Fabray. Don't you, like, live in the bathroom? Because I swear the only place I've ever seen you at this school is in the glee room, the auditorium, the hallway, and the bathroom. Do you even go to classes?"

"We've seen her on the football field, too," Brittany added.

"I'm in Spanish. B would know that if she ever bothered to attend." Quinn yelled from behind the door of the bathroom. Santana shrugged.

"Britt knows all the Spanish she needs to know." Santana smirked. Brittany nodded.

"Te quiero," Brittany said, her voice husky. "Te quiero, te necesito. Me encanta besar sus muslos, las caderas, la…"

"STOP." Quinn yelled from inside the bathroom. Santana snickered.

"We're leaving, Fabray, don't worry." Quinn heard the door swing open and Santana say something quietly in Spanish to Brittany.

"Queiro hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos." Santana husked out. Brittany giggled. The door shut behind them. Quinn briefly wondered if she should ask Mr. Schuester what that meant, but decided that if Santana said it, it was probably better left a mystery.

It was only the glee clubbers at GSA when Brittany and Santana arrived, since everyone else was still in their classes.

"What took you guys so long?" Tina asked.

"Bathroom,"

"Making out," Santana and Brittany said simultaneously. Santana shot Brittany a quick glare.

"So," Blaine began, as the Glee Clubbers took their seats in the Spanish classroom, "with Prom right around the corner, we were thinking that we'd discuss what happened to Kurt at last year's prom." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"I was wondering if I could ask you guys about something before everyone else gets here?" Brittany asked, quietly. Santana looked at her girlfriend curiously. She hadn't mentioned anything about needing to talk about something earlier so it was odd she would do it now.

"Of course, Brittany, that's what this space is for," Blaine replied, sporting his signature grin.

"It's about my parents. You know, I told them about Santana and me. Well, not really told them, more like, they caught us making out on stage at Sectionals, which would have been really hot if they hadn't been there…" Santana placed her hand lightly on Brittany's forearm to remind her to stay on topic. "Oh yeah, well they know, and my dad was mad for awhile, and now he's not mad anymore, but I think he's pretending that we're not dating, and it's almost as bad as him being mad."

"Your in the 'we accept you for who you are as long as we don't have to acknowledge it' stage of coming out," Blaine said. Brittany nodded. "You see, Britt, that is the worst. It may be even worse than the homophobic parents, because with the homophobes you are at least forced to confront the issue at hand."

"No one is going to confront the issue other than you, Britt," Kurt added. Blaine nodded.

"As difficult and as unfair as it may seem, if you keep letting it go unspoken, it will just explode five years down the line when you and Santana are trying to decide whether carnations or daisies are more appropriate for your wedding."

"Woah, hold your horses, Warbler," Santana said.

"Yeah, it's obviously daisies," Brittany added. Santana just rolled her eyes and shot a glare to Mercedes and Tina who were obviously holding back laughter.

"It's something you unfortunately have to address now, before everyone gets to comfortable with you being the sister with the unspoken tendency toward lesbianism," Blaine said. Brittany nodded as the group broke into smiles and hellos as the rest of the GSA filed in.

"You going to be okay tonight, B?" Santana asked as she pulled up in front of the Pierce household. Brittany simply nodded and kissed Santana lightly on the lips.

"I'll be fine," she said softly, threading her fingers through Santana's long, dark hair. "I'll come over later," Brittany added, opening the door to the car.

"Good," Santana said, leaning over the passenger seat for one final kiss. "I love you, B," Santana said.

"I love you too, Tana."

Brittany smiled as she crossed the threshold of her house and finally heard Santana's car speed off. She always waited until Brittany was safely inside her house. Brittany frequently wondered what Santana thought could possibly happen between the curb and the walkway. Although, knowing her, quite a lot could happen. Her mother broke her from her trance.

"Are you okay, Brittany?" Her mother asked, concerned. Brittany replied with a big smile and a nod. "Well dinner is ready, and we have a lot to talk about." Brittany nodded again and let her mother lead her to the dining room.

Brittany nervously played around with her food. Neither of her parents had spoken so far, and Alexis and Grace were having dinner in the family room so that Brittany and her parents could talk about her post-High School plans.

"So, Brittany," her father began, "we want to talk to you about the financial logistics of next year." Brittany nodded, trying to focus on what her father said. She knew this conversation was important, but the minute she heard 'financial logistics' come out of his mouth, she knew this conversation was going to be difficult to focus on. "Assuming you went to Rhodes, we'd pay $1,500 in tuition a semester, that's $3,000 a year. You would live at home, so we wouldn't have to pay for room and board."

"So you're going to give me $3,000 to survive on next year?" Brittany asked, nervously. She didn't know that much about finances, but she did know that there was no way she could pay for rent in LA and dance classes, and car payments, and gas, and food on $3,000 a year.

"No, no, Britt," her mother interjected, noticing her daughter's anxiety. "We're going to give you $3,000, up front, to pay for whatever you need as a dancer. Classes, clothing, headshots, a reel, et cetera."

"We'll pay for your rent for a year, Brittany," her father added. "Consider it a graduation present. Our budget is $800 a month, including utilities." Brittany was unable to conceal the excitement on her face. She jumped out of her chair and pulled her father into a tight hug. "Now, wait, wait, Britt. This is for a year. If it doesn't work after a year, you're back home and in college, do you understand?" Brittany nodded excitedly. "Now, we just need to talk about where you're going to be."

"LA," Brittany said, simply.

"Brittany, you have to think carefully about this decision. LA, New York, and Chicago all have flourishing dance scenes. There's no reason to limit yourself."

Santana was hanging up clothes in her room when she saw the light on her phone go on again. It was Quinn, calling for the fourth time that night. Santana hit the ignore button and returned to her task. A few minutes later she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in!" Santana yelled.

"Mija, phone is for you," her mother said, walking into her room. Santana rolled her eyes. Goddamn landlines ruining her life. How did Quinn even get this number? "Thank god you're finally cleaning this room, mija," she said, eyeing Santana folding up a pair of Brittany's shorts. "Also, Santana, I'm not a laundry service. If you're going to have your and Brittany's dirty clothes all over this room, it's about time you start washing it yourself."

"Thanks, mom!" Santana yelled, sarcastically, snatching the phone from Maria. Maria rolled her eyes and shut the door.

"You still don't do your own laundry?" Quinn asked.

"How did you get this number?"

"The phonebook."

"They still make those?"

"Obviously, Santana."

"What do you want, Fabray?"

"I want to hang out."
"Why?"

"Because, like it or not, we're kind of friends, and we're going to college together next year, and I have it on good authority that Brittany is stuck in some family dinner-future life plans thing right now. And I know you're bored if you're actually cleaning your room."

"Whatever, Fabray. I'll see you in twenty." Santana hung up the phone.

Brittany's father hadn't stopped talking, and Brittany was getting frustrated. She had compiled a list reasons that LA would be better for her. A list of reasons that pointedly did not include Santana. However, she didn't have the list with her, and she was having trouble getting a word in edgewise. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that the room was silent, her parents looking expectantly at her.

"So, Brittany, what are your thoughts?" Her mother finally asked.

"Well…"Brittany began, begging for her list to magically appear in her hands. If only items could apparate. Although, if things or people could apparate, she hoped they would be doing far more interesting things than moving a piece of paper from her backpack to her hand. If she could apparate, she'd apparate herself to Santana right now. And every Friday night she's apparate them to that lesbian bar on Robertson Rita brought them to. Or maybe she would apparate them to that Ice Hotel in Sweden, because, really, she didn't need other girls, she just needed to be cozy with Santana. What better place to get nice and cozy than in an Ice Hotel?

"Brittany?" Her mother asked again, breaking Brittany's daydream of ice beds and warm blankets and Santana snuggled tightly into her.

"Sorry. I want to move to Los Angeles," Brittany said, simply. "I understand all your points, dad. I did some research, thought. Los Angeles is cheaper than New York, has a larger dancing scene than Chicago, and more Hip-Hop dancing than New York. Plus, I have a support system in place. Quinn and Santana will be there and Santana's family is there."

"Our friends all live in New York, Brittany," her father interjected.

"Your friends, dad, not mine. I don't know those people, but I know the Lopez's. If things get difficult, I have people I can go to." Her father rolled her eyes.

"I think you need to think this over carefully, Brittany. You're making a decision based on a person, based on a relationship, regardless of what is best for you."

"You are doing the same thing," Brittany said.

"What does that mean?"

"You want to make my decision so that you can keep me away from a person whom you have known for ten years, who you can no longer call by her name."

"That's not true, Brittany."

"It is true, dad. Look, I've made my decision. I want to move to LA. If it fails, then I'll be back in Lima and enroll at Rhodes in the fall of 2013."

"Fine." Her father said.

"Fine," Brittany replied. "I'm going over to Santana's," she added. "Do you have a problem with that? Do you even remember her name?" No one said anything as Brittany got up and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Pierce asked her husband, standing up from the table and exiting the room. "You're going to lose her, you know that? We're going to lose her." She whispered as she left the dining room.

"Have you looked over your admission packet yet?" Quinn asked Santana, throwing her pink cardigan on Santana's desk chair and her body on Santana's bed.

"Go ahead, Q, make yourself at home." Santana said, sarcastically, hanging Brittany's floppy red hat on a hook on the door.

"God, did you two get married already or something?" Quinn asked, eyeing Santana hanging a sweater with a squirrel on it in her closet.

"What?" Santana asked.

"I mean, I know you don't own any animal themed clothing and in the last five minutes you've hung up a squirrel sweater, a sweatshirt with little birds on it and that ridiculous hat."

"So?"

"So, it's like you two live together. I know those aren't your clothes. You're all overalls all the time."

"Fuck you, Fabray. I own one pair of overalls. One! I don't understand why everyone feels the need to comment on them all the time. I have like 35 mini skirts and no one ever says anything about them."

"Well, you look good in mini skirts," Quinn said. Santana raised her eyebrow and smirked. Quinn rolled her eyes. "And those overalls are heinous."

"Britt wears overalls too."

"Brittany also wears sandals with knee socks and shorts in the middle of winter. In Ohio."

"It's cute."

"Well, Brittany makes everything look cute. Including overalls. You, on the other hand, just look like a lesbian."

"Well, you, Fabray, sound like a lesbian. 'You look hot in mini skirts. Brittany looks cute in everything,'" Santana mocked.

"You're so annoying. I want to punch you pretty much every time you open your mouth."

"You're annoying every time I have to see your stupid face. I think I even like Berry more than you."

"Good one, Santana."

"Fuck you, Fabray. I'm tired, I want to be having sex with my hot girlfriend, and instead your fat ass is lounging in my sexy-times suite, probably infecting my awesome, satin sheets with your celibacy germs."

"Are you twelve? You still believe in cooties?"

"You know what, Fabray?'

"What, Santana?" Quinn asked, clearly mocking her. Santana rolled her eyes and let out a long huff in exasperation.

"Why are you here?"

"Well, if you'd answered my original question, I was asking if you read your admission packet yet?"

"Kind of. My mom keeps bugging me about reading it, but I don't really see the point. I mean we go there, we go to classes, what's the big deal?" Quinn rolled her eyes at Santana's nonchalance. "You know, your eyes are going to get stuck like that."

"You're one to talk. Look, there's a section in the packet about housing options and it asks if you have a person you'd like to request as your roommate and I was wondering, I don't know, if maybe, you know, you'd want to maybe be roommates, if you want?" Santana looked at her like she'd grown three heads.

"Wow, Q. It took you like ten minutes to get that out."

"Seriously, S, we'll be in a new city, we won't know anyone, it might be nice to live with someone from home."

"I know people in LA and B will be living there."

"Hopefully."

"Most likely."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"Look, Fabray, barring the likely possibility that if forced to spend more than thirty minutes together that one of us will lose a limb, I'm just not that sure that it's the best idea."

"Why not? This is just how we are. I thought you knew that…it's kind of like…like how we express…you know, that we like love one another, or something. As friends," Quinn quickly added.

"Oh my god, Q, you are so awkward right now. Don't ever talk about how we're friends, okay? I thought that was like, an unspoken rule or something."

"Okay, but then why don't you think it would be a good idea?"

"Well, I'm gay, Q." Quinn feigned shock.

"What? Oh my god!"

"Shut up. God, you're such a bitch sometimes. I'm gay, and like, you'd have to be around me being all gay and stuff all the time. And like change in front of me and shit."

"So?"

"So? Wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"What? Why would you think that it would make me uncomfortable? What have I ever done that would make you think that?"

"I don't know," Santana snapped at her. "You complain about me and Brittany and our PDA. You're Christian. You're one of the few glee clubbers who doesn't go to GSA. Because, I guess, well, because you've never told me that you were okay with it."

"That's because I thought you knew, Santana." Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Santana more seriously than she has ever looked at her in her life. It always scared her a little when Santana opened up like this and let her features soften, let anyone in to see that she really was still just a fragile little girl.

"Santana, I have always known that you were gay. You have been leering at Brittany since I met you and you used to suggest practice make out sessions in the locker room. In all seriousness, you own too much camo, and one too many pairs of overalls to be heterosexual. I complain about your PDA because you two won't fucking stop making out and it's gross to hear you moan in public. And probably because I'm a little jealous that you're in love and you get to show it all the time, and I'm still single. Yes, I'm Christian, but my mom and I go to a church that doesn't have a problem with homosexuality, and even before that I always figured that God made people a certain way for a reason. Why would he make you gay and then punish you for it? I don't go to GSA because I volunteer as a babysitter after school on Wednesday and Thursdays for teen moms who are working to get their GED's. But I can switch the days I go in, Santana. And I've changed in front of you a million times, why would I care now? Besides, you never hesitate to remind me how fat I am, so if you ever checked me out, I would just assume that I finally lost the baby-weight. I don't care that you're a lesbian; in fact, I like you a lot more now that you've come out. I hate you because you're a bitch, and I will always make fun of your fake boobs and your ridiculous outfits, but you have never made me uncomfortable." Quinn looked up at Santana, having finally finished her rant. She was smiling. It was one of those genuine, made only for Brittany, smiles.

"You know, you're not actually fat, Q."

"I know. You're outfits are actually totally ridiculous though."

"I'm telling everyone at school that you said you loved me."

"Whatever. Everyone knows that you're a lying bitch."

"Not true! Everyone knows that I'm the honest bitch. You're the lying bitch."

"Do you two ever stop fighting?" Brittany asked as she entered Santana's room without knocking.

"No." They said simultaneously.

"Well, I guess I should go, since your wife is here," Quinn said.

"Fuck you, Fabray." Santana said, trying to ignore that grin that crossed Brittany's face.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not that into that, Santana?" Quinn asked, smirking. "Will you think about it?" Quinn asked, more seriously now.

"Of course, roomie." Quinn smiled and started to walk out of Santana's door.

"Wait! Q!" Brittany yelled before Quinn could shut the door. "I'm coming to LA!" Quinn' eyes widened with excitement and she rushed back in, pulling Brittany into a tight hug.

"I can't believe your parents went for it!" Quinn exclaimed.

"More or less…" Brittany replied, causing Santana to raise an eyebrow at her.

"I'm so happy for you, B, we're going to take LA by storm," Quinn said, pulling Brittany tightly to her. "Okay, now I know you and the wife need to get some celebratory sex on, so I'll leave you two alone," Quinn said, winking at Santana and shutting the door.

"What happened, B?" Santana asked, taking Brittany's hand and pulling her toward the chair so that Brittany sat halfway on her lap.

"My dad's mean."

"No he's not, B."

"Yeah, he kind of is." There was a long pause as Santana rubbed Brittany's back. "He wants me to move to New York. I think he thinks that being away from you will knock the gay out of me."

"Maybe it will," Santana said sadly.

"Nothing could knock the Santana out of me, though." Santana smiled, slightly. "They're giving me the money regardless of where I go, and I'm going to LA. I'm going to LA, Tana." Brittany said, pulling her into a tight kiss. "We're going to LA." Santana adjusted herself in her seat so she could give Brittany a kiss. "We're going to LA." Brittany whispered into Santana's lips. "We're going to start our life in LA." Brittany said. Santana kept placing slow, loving, soft kisses on Brittany's lips.

"I love you, B," Santana said. "I love you. I love you. I love you." Santana felt her heart clench as she repeated the words into Brittany's mouth, smelling the floral scent of Brittany's shampoo and feeling their bodies melt together.

"OPEN DOOR POLICY!" Maria shouted, swinging the door open. "Is that so hard to understand?" She walked past the door, smirking to herself. Brittany and Santana broke out into fits of giggles and Santana pushed Brittany from the chair onto the bed. They curled up, facing one another until their noses grazed and their knees overlapped.

"I can't wait until we're in LA." Santana grinned, and pulled Brittany into another, open door, chaste, kiss.