They managed to get through the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, the bachelorette parties and celebratory parties with Santana's colleagues, without losing their minds, and Brittany woke up at six the morning of the day of her wedding feeling almost relieved. She listened to Santana clatter down their back steps as the brunette went out to run. She would be an organized fitness nut, she thought. Running at this time. Damn it, I have nothing in common with this woman. Brittany sighed and got out of bed to get ready for the so called happiest day of her life. But as much she hated to admit it, she was actually looking forward to being married to the grumpy latina. The movers called Brittany to let her know that they were able to deliver her furniture earlier than they thought and that it would be delivered later that day.
Santana returned from her run and they had breakfast together in silence. Sharing stolen glances at each other they were both lost in similar thoughts yet too proud to admit things out loud.
Santana left for the college at nine, and Brittany cleared up the breakfast dishes and began to move up to the second floor everything chrome that one person could carry. She filled the right front bedroom with Santana's lamps and chairs and bookcases from the living room. Since Santana's desk was already in there, the extra furniture made the room into a study for the latina. She'd already moved the living room end tables into the guest bedroom to act as bedside tables. The only things she couldn't move were the awful glass dining room table and the couch. When she was finished, half of the upstairs was done in black leather and metal. She shuddered and closed the doors.
Then the doorbell rang, and she went to meet the movers.
"The couch goes in here," she told them, sliding open the pocket door to the living room. They brought in her flowered couch and three mismatched worn brocade chairs. They carried in her collection of miscellaneous chipped and scratched end tables in all sizes and woods. They set her crated paintings behind the couch and rolled her worn bright yellow carpet on the floor. They moved Santana's couch and table upstairs to her office and rolled Brittany's big round oak table into the dining room, and the sun came in and highlighted the six unmatched pressed-wood chairs she grouped around it. There was just room enough for the little buffet with the cracked top by the door to the kitchen. They carried her brass bed upstairs to the master bedroom and put the mattress on it for her. Her unmatched end tables went into place beside it. They brought up her cheval mirror with the tiny crack, her cedar chest, her dented brass-bound trunk, and her bent-wood rocker. Charity checked it all out and then went to sleep in the middle of her bed, satisfied that things were getting back to normal. Annie hid underneath and bitched at the movers with a voice that sounded like breaking glass.
When the movers left, Brittany danced through the house, holding Annie and singing. All this room. All this sun. All her lovely furniture.
She put Annie down and went out to buy flowers for her lovely house.
When Brittany got back, the Nazimobile was parked in front. "San?" she called as she came through the front door. Santana yelled back from the living room. "What the hell is this Britt?"
"What?" She stepped back, startled.
"All this old"—the latina waved her hand around wildly—"crap!"
"What crap? These are antiques."
"This stuff has holes in it," santana said, incredulous. "The rug, the couch, the chairs. It's all crap B!"
Brittany felt the familiar tightness come over her; this was her father all over again, making her feel guilty for the things she loved. Well screw you Lopez, it wasn't going to work this time. "It's real furniture," she snapped back. "It has personality. It's not that five-and-dime science fiction junk you sit on."
"Five-and-dime?" Santana's eyebrows climbed so high, they almost disappeared into her hair. "That furniture cost me a fortune! It's designer furniture."
"Designed by whom?" Brittany crossed her arms and charged. "Darth Vader? The Hitler Youth? You said, the house is yours, Brittany. You said, you're the one spending the most time here, B. You said—"
Santana waved cut her off. "I know what I said Brittany. But I can't have people in here to see this… this…"
"I'd be careful with the next word if I was you," Brittany said through her teeth. "I love this, this—"
Santana sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. "This isn't going to work B," she said quietly. "Try to understand me please."
Brittany sat down beside the brunette, feeling slightly guilty for getting offended. She rubbed the latina's back softly."I understand you San but I cannot live in a soulless home. That furniture of yours was made by machines for machines," she told her softly. "I know you're not emotional, I know warmth isn't important to you, but I can't live without light and color and warmth. I can't live with that horrible, horrible, cold, dark furniture."
"All right B" Santana took a deep breath. "But I can't live in squalor." She turned to Brittany, calm but still upset. "Brittany, look at this stuff. It's so worn, you can't see the pattern in the upholstery. The carpet has holes in it. Britt, it isn't warm, it's worn out."The latina felt her heart sting at the sad look in the blonde's usually bright eyes. She wanted to take the girl in her arms and kiss all the sadness away. Before she could retract all her mean words about the old furniture, Brittany smiled at her.
Brittany wasn't stupid. She understood Santana's point of view and looked at the furniture through the latina's eyes, and for the first time it wasn't beautiful to her. She bit her lip as she saw the scratches and chips and holes. She's right. I didn't care when it was just mine coz Quinn was the only one who visited and she didn't care about the worn spots or the wholes. But now I'm not alone. And this is her world. Harper would be horrified and that little bitch Caroline would sneer. San would be embarrassed.
Brittany took a deep breath and smiled softly at the latina. "Ok. Maybe you're right. My stuff and your stuff are both wrong for each other. So maybe we can go get new stuff that we're both satisfied with. But I can't afford to throw this stuff out, because when I leave in June, I've got to take it with me. So maybe, we can put them put in storage for now? And go buy new furniture for our, for your house? Stuff that wouldn't look like Darth Vader made them?"
Santana stared at the blonde with a look in her eyes that made Brittany shiver. She stared at the blonde for a long minute before shaking her head and smiling back at the blonde. "Thank you B. You really are an amazing friend. Don't worry about your furniture. Let's go buy new ones to match both our tastes and maybe you can take them if you have to leave in June. We'll put mine in storage. I like the dark Darth Vader furniture."
"if?" Brittany looked at the latina with questioning eyes. Santana looked at her confused. "You said if I leave in June"
Shit Lopez. This is why you need to think before you talk and not stare at her eyes while you talk.
"I said when. You probably didn't hear me coz your furniture is too loud. Stop smiling like that at me and go get ready. Let's just go buy the damn furniture."
Brittany kept smiling at the latina teasingly, before Santana pushed her off the couch and rushed out of the room. Brittany laughed out loud at the retreating latina before getting off the floor to put the flowers she bought in water.
Santana came back to the living room and hugged the blonde from behind. Brittany was startled for a minute but she relaxed in to the latina's strong arms and put her hands above the tanned ones that were wrapped around her waist.
"I'm sorry Britt. You were really happy that your things came, weren't you?" Santana's voice was gentle. "And I spoiled it."
Brittany felt her heart pound at the care and concern in the latina's voice."No San. You didn't spoil it. I'm not used to living… like an adult, I guess. This stuff is great for me, but it's a disaster for you. I should have seen it." She turned around in her arms and looked down at the deep brown eyes. "I'm truly sorry."
Santana hugged her tighter and they stood in the middle of the room with their arms around each other, with the same thought in both their minds. It felt like home.
It took less time than they thought to pick up all their furniture. When they were almost done Santana got called back to the University for an Emergency Faculty meeting. She kissed the blonde on her cheek absentmindedly and they both blushed immediately at the act before Santana rushed out the furniture store with red cheeks and a hurried good bye. Brittany stared after her with a soft smile before shaking her head and going to the counter to pay for their furniture. The boy wrote up the bill and gave her the total and she wrote a check.
"When do you want this delivered ma'am?"
"Tomorrow would be good. I might not be home but my wife would be there" wife..that sounds weird. Brittany thought to herself while smiling at the boy.
"Could you give me your wife's name for the delivery ticket?" the boy asked.
"Santana Lopez."
He looked up. "Dr. Lopez? The history prof out at the college? She's great. I'm Andrew Madden, Mrs. Lopez. I'm one of the students she tutors."
"Hi, Andrew. I'm Brittany." Brittany held out her hand, and Andrew took it and shook it with enthusiasm. "I'll tell her you like his class. She'll be so pleased."
"Oh, don't tell her." Andrew flushed. "She doesn't even know who I am."
"Of course she does," Brittany said, not at all sure that she did.
On the way home she passed the vet's and thought again, absentmindedly, how nice it was that he was close. And then she thought about Andrew. She'd never heard Santana talk about him. She'd never heard Santana talk about any of her students. Of course, school had been in session only a week, but she'd talked about everybody she'd ever known. Maybe it was just because Santana wasn't a talker. But maybe it was because Santana still didn't get to know her students. She quickly squelched the thought. Santana was a wonderful teacher. Andrew said so. She—
She heard the squeal of brakes and a thump and saw a car go past out of the corner of her eye, and then she saw the dog. A little skinny black-and-white mutt was lying on its side, moving feebly against the concrete. Brittany dropped her wrapped bolt of fabric which she bought to make curtains to match the new furniture and ran to it. Its eyes were dull, and it had stopped moving.
"It's okay," she whispered. "You're okay." She pulled off her sweater and wrapped it around the dog and went to get the bolt. She put the bolt on the pavement and gently lifted the dog onto it as if it were a stretcher. Then she picked it up and carried it back down the block to the vet's.
She banged on the door, and a young man in a white T-shirt and jeans answered it.
"This dog's been hit," she said, out of breath. "Is the vet in?"
"That's me." He opened the screen door.
Brittany followed him into a lab room and put the bolt on a table. She watched the vet examine the dog carefully, concerned and gentle. What a lovely man, Brittany thought. His eyes are so gentle and green. Such warmth. You need warmth to be a vet. How lucky for this puppy to have this nice man to take care of him.
He looked up and caught her staring at him, and she blushed. He smiled at her.
She leaned forward, anxious about the dog. "Is he going to be all right?"
"When did he lose his eye?"
Brittany felt her heart break with sympathy. "He's only got one eye?"
"Didn't you know?"
"I just met him about a minute ago. Is he going to be all right? He's just a puppy."
"No, he's not," the vet said. "He's more than a year, maybe two."
"He's so little."
The vet nodded. "He's underfed. Probably a stray, since he doesn't have a tag. He'll be bigger when he stands up. He's got legs like stilts, and one of them's broken, so he'll limp for a while. I can splint the leg and keep him for free for a couple of days but…"
"I'll pay for him." Brittany nodded. "My name's Brittany Lopez, and he's my dog now. Just make him well again."
"Hello, Brittany," the vet said, and held out his hand. "I'm Sam Evans."
Brittany took it and shook it with pleasure. "Hello, Dr. Evans."
"No." His eyes were warm on her. "Sam."
"Sam." She was so happy about the dog that she smiled at him, her full megawatt smile, and he looked lost for a minute. Brittany stroked the dog's head. "I'll take him home with me when he's ready, but he'll have to make friends with my cats."
"The limp should slow him down and help him get acquainted." Sam watched her. "Come in and visit him." "I will." Brittany leaned close to the dog so he could see her with his good eye. "Every day. Poor little guy."
"Got a name for him? Or should I just write Dog Doe on his card?"
"He needs a powerful name," Brittany said. "Like Hercules." They both looked down at the dog doubtfully. "Or Jupiter. Jupiter is the good luck planet too. Maybe he's my good luck." Sam lifted an eyebrow at her. "A one-eyed crippled dog with a broken tail is good luck?"
Brittany blinked. "His tail's broken too?"
"See that bend in it?"
"Oh, Jupiter, you poor baby." Brittany stroked his head again.
"Jupiter is the perfect name for this dog," Sam said. "He just lucked out completely."
"Jupiter." Brittany looked at Sam and smiled again.
"Maybe he'll be good luck for me too," Sam said. "Come back soon, Brittany."
I should have told him I'm getting married, Brittany thought as she carried the fabric home. But you're not really, not permanently. Only for a year. Ten months. And then…Brittany couldn't understand why it saddened her to think about not being married to the latina.
Well that's what Santana wants. So maybe after our marriage If I married a vet, I'd have lots of animals. And he was so sweet. And so warm. And he didn't look at her as if she were a disaster in the making.
Next time, I'll tell him I'm married, she decided. It was only fair, but when she got home, she sat at the bottom of the stairs and shivered. She shouldn't have been smiling at a vet. She was getting married. In five hours. To a really beautiful and amazing but cold woman with chrome furniture who was constantly embarrassed by her instead of to someone warm who loved animals. It felt wrong.
Quinn found her there still shivering half an hour later.
"Brittany?"
"I'm scared," she told Quinn. "I'm really, really scared."
Quinn nodded. "I would be too. Come on, I have the solution."
Santana stood by the judge and endured a friend of Julie's who was singing "A Thousand Years" Julie must have picked out the music. Brittany would have chosen something a little more vivid, like "Heart Attack" The music changed and she looked out of the gazebo and down the white carpet that stretched across the Harpers' lawn.
Quinn was walking unsteadily down the carpet with a ring of daisies in her hair, dressed in some sort of gold floaty dress. She looked very cute but very wobbly. She's drunk, Santana thought. Which meant Brittany was too. Quinn must have had to get her loaded to get her through the day. Santana sighed heavily and looked past Quinn and saw Brittany.
She was wearing white again, and she had daisies in her hair, and a little piece of veil over her eyes. She met Santana's eyes and smiled at her, her megawatt smile loosened a little by alcohol. She looked unstable, and wild, and absolutely enchanting, and her smile made Santana's knees weak. She stumbled slightly when she got to the steps of the gazebo, and Santana moved forward and took her elbow to steady her.
"Easy, Cinderella," Santana whispered.
She looked into her eyes and smiled that smile again. "Hi, Baby" she said, and the latina closed her eyes because she was so warm.
"Dearly beloved," the judge began, and Santana concentrated on propping Brittany up through the ceremony. She did very well, but Santana held on to her tightly anyway in case she suddenly developed a lurch. The latina knew the people watching probably thought she couldn't keep her hands off the blonde. Good for them.
Brittany said her vows clearly, none of which involved lying in front of God, and they slid the rings on each other.
"You may kiss the bride," the judge said, and Santana looked into the beautiful blue eyes that she was slowly falling in love with. Eyes that were full of warmth and love and wine. Brittany bent and kissed her. She slipped her arms around Santana's waist pressed herself against her, and the latina wrapped her one of her arms around the taller girls neck and the other around her waist to keep her from falling backward and to hold her close. Her lips were so warm and soft that Santana felt herself drowning in the feel of her mouth on the blonde's, and her breath went away. There are people watching, she thought, and she let her go. Brittany's eyes were half closed and her mouth was full and open, and Santana wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, immediately, again and again.
Brittany opened her eyes and smiled brilliantly at the latina and said, "Wow," and Santana rolled her eyes and pulled the blonde's hand through her arm and walked her back down the aisle while the blonde clung to her..
"That was some kiss san," Brittany said breathlessly when they were alone by the rose arbor.
"You're some bride." Santana chuckled and kissed her forehead, not trusting herself with her mouth. "How much did the two of you have to drink?"
"A bottle of wine. I was a little nervous."
"About me?"
"No!" Brittany looked at her, her eyes wide. "I know all about you. I just don't know about marriage."
You don't know all about me, Santana thought. If she did, she wouldn't have married her. Because Brittany didn't know how much Santana wanted her, how her eyes made Santana's knees go weak, how her smile made her want to give Brittany the world and how her body_, no Lopez, don't go there. Make a note not to kiss Brittany again, she told herself.
"Congratulations!" Julie grabbed her and kissed her and then fell on Brittany with glad cries, and the reception started. Gertrude kissed Brittany's cheek and patted Santana on the back, an absolute outburst of emotion for her, and Santana was touched. Pansy wept on everybody.
Harper patted all the women. Quinn met Evan York and stayed with him for the whole afternoon, fascinated by his prophecies of doom.
Santana and Brittany just smiled and drank.
Later, the things Santana remembered most about her wedding were Brittany's kiss at the altar, her mother's look of grim approval, and the taste of the pumpkin cake.
It was really very good cake.
A/N
I couldn't think of another name so i used Sam. i don't know what his eye color is though.. sometimes it's blue and sometimes it looks green so i used green. enjoy guys.