Glee and all related characters and places are owned by Fox - I just make them dance for my own amusement.
~xxx~
On Saturday morning, Santana awoke in something of a daze. In her mind's eye, she replayed the last words Brittany had spoken to her on Friday evening. The same words she had said the night before.
"See you tomorrow."
All through dinner, and the hours following, sat on her computer, Santana didn't question the blonde's words. It wasn't until she was in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, that something curious occurred to her – tomorrow was the weekend. She had quite a hard time getting to sleep after the realisation hit her; did Brittany mean she was coming over on a Saturday? She wanted to text or call her, but it was nearly midnight – Brittany could be asleep for all she knew. And for a moment, Santana pondered just what the blonde was doing at that exact moment. It was a truly bizarre feeling – laying there in bed, realising that she had a girlfriend out there. Someone who – so she claimed – genuinely wanted to be with her. It made Santana feel both warm and terrified at the same time; part of her was demanding she stop questioning whether this was real or not and just seize the moment, but another was screaming that this whole thing had to be some sort of game; some sort of trick just to embarrass her for Brittany's amusement.
She fell into a restless sleep, and when her eyes opened to the morning sun, her mind was no less uneasy. Was she really thinking clearly? Or was she just distracted because this was Brittany Pierce of all people?
Santana never found an answer, as she was jolted into wakefulness by the shrill sound of her phone. It vibrated irritatingly against her desk, causing the brunette to curse not leaving it on her bedside table. Grimacing, she half slid, half rolled out of bed and staggered towards the desk, grabbing the phone and glaring at the screen.
Rachel.
She sighed and ran a hand through her tousled hair, finally answering the ringing phone.
"Good morning, Santana!" Rachel chirped, coming dangerously close to a sing-song voice.
"Hi," the Latina replied, inwardly groaning – she knew exactly what this was about.
"I just thought I'd let you know that I am leaving my house – heading through the door right now, actually – and I'll be there in ten minutes," Rachel said quickly; Santana could almost feel the bright smile the girl must have been wearing.
"…fine," Santana muttered, rubbing at her eyes with the palm of her free hand. Everything was most certainly not fine. "See you."
She ended the call without even waiting for Rachel's response, suddenly overtaken by blind panic. Did she really say ten minutes? She let out a groan and tossed her phone onto her bed, quickly followed by her pajamas. This wasn't the first time Rachel had done this, but it was no less irritating. They had been friends since long before high school, and Santana had to wonder whether that was really the only reason they still were – their interests were hardly similar. When they were younger, Santana had rolled her eyes at Rachel's Broadway ambitions, but after all this time, she had almost come to admire the other girl's conviction. It sometimes made her wish she had something to focus on in a such a way, but as things currently stood – just getting through school without ending up permanently smelling of slushie was her main priority.
Five minutes later, she was downstairs. Her parents were both in the kitchen, laughing at something her father had just said, when Santana skidded into the room.
"My god, you're up and dressed before lunchtime!" her father joked, raising his eyebrows. "Where's the fire?"
"Very funny," Santana replied waspishly. "Rachel just phoned – and woke me up in the process – saying she's on her way here."
"Well maybe if you didn't spend so long on your computer every night, you wouldn't have so much trouble waking up earlier," her mother commented, rolling her eyes as she passed on her way to the fridge. "You didn't mention Rachel was coming over."
"Oh, I…" Santana looked away, suddenly feeling rather guilty. "I've been really busy lately. Must have slipped my mind."
"Well, we're going to be out most of the day, so you'll have the house to yourself," Maribel said. Santana's father just chuckled.
"I think what your mother is trying to say is that you'll have to suffer through Rachel's 'afternoon vocal exercises' alone," he said, folding his newspaper and placing it on the table. "Which I am sure we both deeply regret."
"Speak for yourself," Maribel snapped. "Last time I swear that girl was trying to break every glass object in the house."
"I'm calling Social Services on you two," Santana said, shaking her head at her parents. "Abandoning me to suffer like that."
"She's your friend, not ours," her mother replied with a bright smile, placing a kiss on Santana's head as she passed back the other way. "Oh, and she's here."
Seconds later, the doorbell rang. Santana let out a sigh and began walking backwards into the hallway. "Social Services," she repeated, pointing at both her parents in turn.
~xxx~
A short while later, Santana and Rachel were up in the Latina's room. Santana at her desk, Rachel standing in the middle of the room.
"You can sit, you know," Santana remarked, glancing over her shoulder. The other girl just shook her head.
"I have to stay upright for as long as possible," she said, as though it were perfectly obvious. "My posture has to remain perfect."
"…right." Santana just rolled her eyes and turned back to her laptop. "How does this version look?"
The entire reason for Rachel's visit – and Santana's rude awakening – was currently displayed upon the screen. Given their existing friendship, as well as Santana's artistic skills, Rachel had enlisted her as the 'official' graphic designer for McKinley's Glee Club. Whenever they went to competitions, it was up to Santana to design whatever lighting schemes, special effects, and even banners for the side of the bus that they needed. There was nothing in it for Santana herself, but she didn't have to heart to say no to Rachel – and at the end of the day, it was nice to feel needed.
"Well it's definitely getting there," Rachel said, not sounding at all convinced. "But won't that blue clash with our outfits?"
"Rachel, I can't tailor the stage lighting to match the exact hue and saturation of your clothes," Santana said – not for the first time. "If you want to match, you're going to have to change the clothes." Rachel just stood there for a moment, looking as though she wanted to argue but couldn't find the right words for it. Santana couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle at her friend's almost pained expression. "For what it's worth, with the lights shining on you, your outfits will look the same shade of blue anyway," she said. That seemed to calm Rachel down somewhat. "Look, how about we just focus on the logo details today? There's still two weeks until Regionals, right?"
But unsurprisingly, that went just as well as the lighting scheme conversation.
"I'm still not sure it really speaks of who we are as a group," Rachel protested. "And what happened to the gold star being incorporated into it?"
"I had to remove it after Mr Schuester e-mailed me – yes your Glee Club teacher actually e-mailed me – and told me it wasn't appropriate," Santana explained. She had been meaning to pick a bone with Rachel about that.
"Well," Rachel began haughtily. "Mr Schue doesn't always know what's best for the choir."
"Can we just forget the gold stars and at least decide on the colors?" Santana said, beginning to sound rather exasperated. "Please?"
It went on like that for nearly two more hours, with Rachel picking apart every single little facet of Santana's work. Eventually, she seemed almost satisfied, and congratulated Santana on 'their' efforts. With that over, Rachel finally gave in and sat down. For Santana, it couldn't have come soon enough – pre-k friendship or not, she was getting ready to strangle the other girl.
"So…" Rachel began, looking around a little awkwardly. "Um, how are you?"
"I'm fine," Santana replied, somewhat amused by how unsure Rachel seemed of herself when she actually had to stop barking orders. "Well, better than fine, actually."
"Oh?" Rachel perked up. "Well, I always thought you looked better with a smile. Yours is nearly as pretty as mine, I think. What has you so happy?"
"Oh…you know…nothing that exciting," the Latina said, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything. She was just as close to Rachel as she was to her other friends, but the wannabe diva was the last person she would tell of her time with Brittany.
"Well either way, I'm glad you're happy," Rachel said with a nod. "Now hopefully you can channel all that happiness into making our staging as good as it can be."
"Yeah, I'll do that…" Santana replied, only half listening. She had made something of an interesting discovery while talking to Rachel.
Thinking about Brittany made the other girl's voice almost bearable.
After another hour or so making smalltalk, Rachel went on her way – apparently she needed to consult Kurt on precisely what jewellery to wear for their Sectionals performance. Now alone in the house, Santana flopped back onto her bed and closed her eyes. She was no longer tired and groggy, but part of her almost wanted to take an afternoon nap. It was mostly dark outside now, and all Santana really felt like doing was relaxing. She had very little homework; nothing that couldn't be done tomorrow afternoon. Instead, she moved back to her computer and spent a while checking for updates on the various websites and social streams she followed. Filming news for a sci-fi movie she had her eye on, leaked script files from a video game that wasn't yet released, and finally a release date for a limited edition action figure she had been after for a while – all in all, nothing out of the ordinary.
Although, the face that was staring at her from the other side of her window? That was something of a surprise.
She almost fell out of her chair in shock, clutching her chest as Brittany just laughed. Even through the glass, Santana could hear her. She glared at the blonde, not even questioning just how she had managed to scale the side of the house to get where she was. Part of her just wanted to leave the blonde out there as punishment for scaring her like that, but all it took was a few seconds of those bright blue eyes to completely melt any anger she had felt. Quickly, she unlatched the window and pulled it open.
Brittany quickly clambered in, dressed in her usual leather jacket and jeans. As Santana closed the window, the taller girl brushed a little brick dust from her clothes.
"I'm guessing it didn't occur to you that there's a perfectly good front door down there?" Santana asked, turning to face the other girl. Brittany just shrugged.
"Maybe, but I didn't know if your folks were home," she said, stepping closer. "And I wanted to do this as soon as I saw you…"
Swiftly, she pulled the shorter girl into a rather hungry kiss. Before she could stop herself, Santana let out something halfway between a groan and a sigh, melting completely into Brittany's embrace. If any part of her had ever felt reluctant in doing this, it was long since dead. She steadied herself against the desk behind her, rapidly losing focus of everything that wasn't Brittany.
As always, Brittany didn't release her as soon as they pulled away. She just rested her head against Santana's, her breathing just as laboured as the brunette's.
"Been wanting to do that all day…" she said, smiling toothily at the shorter girl.
"Could have done with it a little sooner," Santana replied shakily, breaking into a smile of her own. "I had Rachel Berry here all day."
"Fuck, you serious?" Brittany pulled away, an eyebrow raised. "What did the Hobbit want?"
"I make the Glee Club's stage stuff," Santana explained. "You know, logos, graphics, lighting routines." She chuckled to herself. "Sometimes Rachel's more of an Orc than a Hobbit, anyway."
"A what now?" the blonde asked. By this point, she had turned away and had taken to inspecting Santana's many shelves.
"Oh, they're…it's just you called her a Hobbit. Orcs are some of the….ah…" she trailed off, feeling her cheeks starting to burn. "…you know…bad guys…from Lord of the Rings?"
"Never seen it," Brittany replied with a shrug. Santana nearly pointed out that 'it' was three separate movies, derived from three separate books, but held her tongue as best she could. "Huh, this looks cool…"
She reached for a Star Trek model on the shelf nearest to her, but before she could touch it, Santana was at her side and stopping her.
"Don't!" the brunette snapped, her eyes wide. Brittany just shot her a look of confusion.
"Christ, calm down, Specs," she said. Her voice was bordering on annoyance. "I wasn't gonna break it." She took a step back away from the shelf and held her hands up. "See? Not touching anything."
"No, no, Brittany, it's not…" Santana trailed off, turning back to the model. She reached under it and lifted it from it's stand, turning back to Brittany. "You have to hold it like this." With this clarification, Brittany's expression softened. "They were never made very well, so you have to hold them from this bit, otherwise it'll just snap."
Brittany moved closer again, and gently placed her fingers alongside Santana's beneath the model ship. Santana could almost feel an electric tingle running across her skin as the blonde's fingers brushed against her own; her breath hitched briefly, before she managed to pull her hand away, leaving Brittany holding the model. She turned it slowly, bright eyes moving over it with interest.
"Pretty cool," she remarked. "You paint this yourself?"
"Some of it," Santana replied, feeling her cheeks burning again. "Just the details. It comes pre-painted, but I wanted it to be a bit more accurate, so…"
"Nice job," Brittany said, gently easing the model back onto it's stand. "I'd never have the patience for something like that."
"You rebuilt your car from a complete wreck," the Latina pointed out. "Right?" Brittany paused for a moment, before smiling.
"Guess I did," she said. She took a step back and turned on the spot, getting one last look at the room in general. She let out a whistle. "It's like Nerdvana in here."
"You should see Artie's room," Santana said, shaking her head with amusement. "It's easily ten times as bad."
"Never said yours was bad," Brittany replied, turning back to Santana. "Besides, I'd much rather be in your room that Artie's…" She glanced up a the Harry Potter poster on the nearest wall. "Can't quite believe I'm finally in here…"
Now just what did that mean?
The previous morning, Brittany had said she had had her eye on Santana for a while. At the time, the brunette had just brushed it off as a silly comment; but was the blonde being serious? She had seemed pretty shaken up while confessing her attraction to Santana, and suddenly the Latina felt somewhat guilty for assuming she was the only one slightly confused by what was going on between them.
"Brittany…" she murmured, diverting her eyes from the other girl and staring at the floor. "When you kissed me, you said it was 'about time.' You said you'd been attracted to me for a while…"
"Yeah, I did." Brittany definitely seemed unsure of herself now. "Crap, look, I…ughh." She ran a hand through her tangled hair. "Alright, you wanna know the truth?" Santana nodded. "I've wanted to date you pretty much the whole time I've been at McKinley."
Is there a more eloquent way of saying 'what the flying fuck?'
Santana couldn't believe the words she had just heard. She refused to listen to her nagging doubts and assume it was a lie, but still… Brittany had wanted her for that long? Without ever having spoken to her?
"You're serious?" she asked, her voice coming out as something of a croak.
"Yes." Brittany said with a nod, seemingly more to herself than the other girl. "Yes, I have." She finally cracked a smile. "What, you think I don't get crushes too?"
"But...me?" Santana asked. "Why me?"
"I could ask the same," the blonde countered. "Look, do I really need to justify it?" She let out a brief laugh. "Trust me to end up lusting after the one person who needs me to write an essay on why I like them…"
"No, no you don't need to, but…" Santana trailed off, forcing herself to meet Brittany's eyes. "This is just going to take a while to get used to. You and me. Us, I guess…"
"Well yeah, I get that," the taller girl replied, nodding again. "Not every day you end up dating the most awesome girl at school."
"And she's oh-so modest," Santana replied, before she could stop herself. But rather than seeming offended, Brittany's smile only widened.
"You know, you're pretty awesome when you poke your head out of that shell of yours," she commented, biting her bottom lip. "You make my lady parts go all tingly when you're pissed off."
Oh, the mental images.
"Well you're definitely the first person to say that to me," Santana replied shakily, forcing herself to remain calm. Hearing Brittany say that had just about sapped her ability to even stand properly.
"I should fucking hope so," the blonde said, sounding affronted. "No one hits on my girl."
Santana felt a rush of warmth running up and down her chest. It wasn't so much the words themselves, but more the fact that they were aimed at her. Brittany really, definitely, genuinely wanted to be with her. She had no doubt anymore.
"I'm guessing you planned the whole picking me up and driving me home thing, then?" Santana asked, trying her best to move the conversation away from Brittany's 'lady parts.'
"Hm?" Brittany looked over, having been momentarily distracted by a nearby action figure. "Oh, nah that was just chance." She bit her lip again, eyes focussing somewhat as she remembered. "I'd been wanting to talk to you for a long time, but I could hardly just walk up to you, you know? I'd thought about cornering you after class, or maybe dragging you off and making it look like I was gonna beat you up, but…" Her smiled faded slightly. "I didn't wanna force it. Didn't wanna scare you off…"
"Brittany, half the school is scared of you," Santana reminded her, and Brittany chuckled.
"Hey, just because I can smash someone's skull in without even trying – I could be a fluffy little bunny inside," she joked.
Santana just raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, totally not," Brittany said, laughing again. "But you know what I mean – I couldn't just talk to you there. But then that day, I was driving home, and there you were."
"Hmm, I dunno," Santana said, a small smile creeping onto her face. "I still think a weather machine was involved."
"Nah," the blonde replied with a shrug. "Now, if you could get me a time machine, that'd be great."
Santana was quiet for a moment, before reached towards the nearest shelve and handing something to Brittany. "Here." The blonde took it, frowning as she inspected it.
"…it's a blue box?" she asked, looking up with confusion. Santana just rolled her eyes.
"It's the TARDIS," she explained. "…from Doctor Who?"
"Sorry," Brittany replied, handing it back. "You know I don't speak nerd."
"So just what do you speak?" Santana asked, placing the model back on the shelf. Brittany was right; the more she talked, the more she felt as though she was emerging from a shell. It was becoming easier and easier to talk to her without becoming embarrassed.
"I speak…" Brittany trailed off, looking around the room for a moment. Her eyes landed on floor beside Santana's bed, and widened with glee. "…the language of how fucking sexy I think you'd look in that Batman underwear."
Okay, so the embarrassment was back.
"Oh my god," Santana gasped, diving for the undergarments in an attempt to hide them. But Brittany was way too fast, beating her to them and grabbing them with one hand, using the other to hold Santana back. "Brittany, drop the underwear,"
"Make me," the blonde growled, smiling that damn toothy grin again. Santana took a deep breath.
"Put them down or I'll make you leave," she said, not even sounding remotely intimidating.
"You're in between me and the door, genius," Brittany scoffed.
"I'll move."
"Fine, I'll just take them with me," the blonde said, faking a serious tone and straightening up. "Maybe I'll go home and sniff them."
"Brittany!"
Santana's face felt so hot it was almost painful. Had she heard that right? She knew Brittany had a foul mouth, but really?
"What's so bad about that?" the taller girl asked innocently, her eyes twinkling. "Wanting to bury my head between your legs is fine, but sniffing the underwear that goes over them is bad? I don't get it."
"Well I think- …wait…what?" Santana breathed. "You…I….what?"
"I told you," Brittany said, her smile widening again. "You're a total hottie. Who wouldn't want some of that?" She gestured up and down Santana's body, causing the brunette to suddenly feel rather self-conscious.
"Brittany…" she repeated, much quieter this time. Sensing she may have crossed some sort of line, the blonde dropped the underwear to the bed and pulled Santana into an embrace.
"Too far?" she asked. Santana just held on tighter.
"…no one has ever…" she murmured, voice muffled by the blonde's shoulder. "….never meant it…"
"I know it's only been a few days, but you're gonna have to get used to the fact that us dating isn't some kind of joke," Brittany said quietly, bringing a hand up to stroke Santana's hair.
"I know, it's just…" Santana sighed, pulling her head back a little to look into those blue eyes. "It still feels like a dream."
"Come on, Specs – like it or not, you're one of the hottest pieces of ass going in that crappy school of ours," she said, chuckling to herself. But again, her eyes softened. "…and one of the kindest. That's a rare combination."
"Says the girl always complimenting me," Santana replied, forcing a smile and sniffling a little; she hadn't even realised tears had been forming. "It's fine. Just…just give me some time…"
"Well, I could bend you over your desk and fuck you senseless if it'd take the edge off."
"…maybe not right now."
Brittany chuckled and gave Santana a tight squeeze, before pulling away and smiling down at her. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Santana murmured, rubbing at her eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. Sorry about that…"
"Hey, it's fine," Brittany replied. "But no more tears and freaking out that I want be with you, okay? Whenever I see you cry I wanna beat the shit out of whoever's caused it, and when it's me…well…I don't really want to punch myself in the face, you know?"
Santana laughed, and was just about to reply, when the sound of the front door opening interrupted her. She looked at Brittany, not sure whether she should be panicking or not.
"My parents are back," she hissed. Brittany looked nonplussed.
"Or someone's robbing you," she replied casually. Santana just gave her a look and moved past her, heading for the door. "Hey, wait, where you going?"
"…to say hi to my parents?" Santana tried, rather surprised at how nervous Brittany suddenly seemed. "Why?"
"Well at am I gonna do? Hide under the bed?" she asked, gesturing at it.
"Or you could maybe just come down with me?" the Latina asked, still baffled by the other girl's behaviour. "I'm just going to say you're a friend. What, did you think I was just going to suddenly say 'Hi mom and dad, this is my girlfriend, Brittany'?"
"As much as I love hearing you call me that, I get your point," Brittany replied with a nod. "…you sure they're not gonna freak when they see me? They probably know who I am."
"If they ask, I'm helping you with your homework," Santana said. Brittany's eyebrows shot up.
"Christ. Thanks, honey," she muttered, crossing her arms. "You want me to start flinging my crap at the walls or something? Maybe start drooling everywhere?"
"Brittany, that's not what I-"
But Santana was cut off when the door opened, and her mother stepped into the room.
"Rachel, is that a new ca- …oh, hello."
The brunette was pretty sure her mother recognised Brittany.
Maribel's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as she looked the blonde up and down. Brittany's expression was carefully neutral. If she was actually nervous about meeting Santana's parents, she didn't show it.
"Santana, aren't you going to introduce your friend?" she asked, and Santana inwardly groaned. She thought parents only ever asked that in movies – Maribel was definitely unimpressed.
"Mom, this is Brittany," she said, managing a smile. "I've been helping her with some homework."
Brittany's eye twitched.
"Really? Oh, well that's very generous of you," Maribel said, suddenly brightening up. Santana had to wonder what exactly her mother had thought was going on. "How long have you two known each other?"
"Oh, umm…" Santana trailed of, glancing over to the other girl.
"Quite a while," Brittany piped up, smiling through her teeth. "Santana just never had the time to help me before now."
"Are you staying for dinner?" Maribel asked kindly, but Brittany quickly shook her head.
"No, I…" She turned to Santana. "I should probably be going."
"I'll see you off," Santana replied quickly.
With the front door closed behind them, Brittany seemed to visibly relax. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.
"You okay?" the shorter girl asked, rather baffled that she was now the one asking that.
"Yeah, I'm fine," the blonde replied with a shrug. "Just kinda had a different mental image of how I'd meet your parents."
"Oh?" Santana smiled, folding her arms. "Did you have a speech prepared?"
"Ha, oh no nothing like that," the taller girl replied, finally smiling. "No, I always pictured them either finding us in the middle of doing the deed-" Santana's eyes widened. "-or you introducing me to them all formally and shit."
"Next time," Santana said, earning a nod from Brittany.
"Well, I guess I better be off," the blonde said, gesturing towards her car. Santana noticed that her parents had been forced to park on the curb. "I'll see you on Monday."
"Okay." Santana nodded, unfolding her arms as Brittany stepped closer. Given their proximity to the door, they were out of sight from the kitchen window – something Santana was hardly complaining about.
Despite Brittany's odd behaviour, the kiss was just as fervent as always, and left the Latina rather breathless and light-headed.
"If you need me, just text or something," Brittany said, stepping backwards towards her car.
"I will," Santana replied with another nod. "And…thanks for coming today." She smiled. "I had a really nice time."
"You just liked having me all to yourself in your room," Brittany smirked, waggling her eyebrows.
"Oh just go already."
~xxx~
If Santana had been worried that Brittany's strange mood would carry over to the next week, she was pleasantly surprised. The blonde was her usual self when she arrived on Monday morning, and even joked that she should keep her actual homework in the car at all times in case an excuse was ever needed. But the best part of the day came just before lunch; Santana was on her way to her locker, when she heard a rather angry voice call her name.
Quinn Fabray, positively seething, was walking towards her. Her hair still bore the results of Brittany's prank, and she was carrying a fresh slushie in one hand. Santana swallowed, bracing herself for what was surely to follow.
But at the last minute, they were interrupted.
"Hey, Fabray!" Brittany's cheerful voice called. "Been looking all over for you!" She approached from behind Quinn, not even pausing as she casually swiped the slushie from the other blonde's hand. She took a slurp from it, before licking her lips. "You know, I like these red ones," she commented thoughtfully. "But not as nice as the blue ones, don't you think?" Quinn looked murderous. "Nice roots by the way."
She took another slurp, and just as she passed Santana, held out the slushie for her to take.
"Hey there, Sexy," she greeted quietly so only Santana could hear, winking as she continued on her way.
It couldn't be denied: Brittany Pierce was a pretty awesome girlfriend.