What with Santana's mistrusting parents and schoolwork, which was growing more and more difficult, meeting with Santana became next to impossible.

For the first week or two after Mr Lopez had caught us, we barely spoke. Sometimes I would catch her eye during a Glee club meeting, and hastily look away. We'd decided we needed to keep ever our friendship under wraps, at least for a little while. And build it up gradually.

We were now preparing for Sectionals as it was only two weeks or so before we would be performing – Rachel and Quinn doing their duet, and a group number of which the song had yet to be chosen. I'd had my suggestions, but Mr Schue hadn't seen keen for a group rehearsal of My Headband, which was a shame.

It was that evening when I was hit by my first bout of Santana withdrawal symptoms. I wished I could see her, or at least phone her. I remembered every line on her face when she smiled, the way her hair fell, the way her hairs stood on end when our legs brushed under the desk in Spanish.

Accidentally, of course.

I was lying flat on my back, remembering those things, when my phone buzzed. I didn't check who was phoning immediately, because I wasn't really in the mood, but when I checked it I got a surprise.

It was Santana.

I pressed the phone to my ear hastily.

'San?'

'Brittany!'

I felt my heart leap.

'How did you...'

'Found my phone. My parents are out.'

'They just left you on your own when you're grounded?'

'Apparently they're really dumb,' she said smugly. Then she hesitated before adding, 'Come over.'

My turn to hesitate.

'When are they home?'

'Well, they said midnight,' she admitted. 'But knowing my parents and their work parties, they won't be home until like, two.'

'I don't know,' I said. 'I don't want to get you in any more trouble.'

'It's worth it,' she pressed. 'It's so worth it.'

'Come here then.'

There was a pause.

'But your mum...'

'She won't mind,' I said hastily. 'She likes you.'

'Well, alright, but let's sit in the garden or something, okay? I don't want to wake her.'

'It's not that late,' I said, grinning. 'Look, just hurry up. I need to see you.'

'Yeah, me too,' she murmured.

I whispered words I knew she caught, and hung up.

It only took Santana fifteen minutes to arrive. I suspected, from how out of breath she sounded on the phone, that she had ran.

'Look outside,' she said breathlessly.

I did, greeted by the sight of a radiant-looking Santana.

'Hi,' I murmured, opening the window.

'Come down,' she said, smiling. 'Like we did when we were kids.'

I frowned.

'Um, I was like ten,' I said worriedly. 'I don't think I could get out.'

'Try,' she pleaded. 'I'm here. I'll catch you, or something.'

I grinned, and began to climb out.'

'Jesus, it's higher than I remembered.'

'Careful,' she said, voice full of worry.

My foot reached the pipe and I reached for it desperately, luckily reaching it.

I exhaled in relief as I slid down it, bending my legs slightly as I made contact with the ground.

When I turned, Santana was standing there, and I marvelled at how lost I'd felt, being away from her for a mere week.

'God, I've missed you,' she whispered.

I pulled her to me frantically, my hands finding her cheeks as our lips met in a whirlwhind of passion, and pent-up love.

I whispered sweet, perfect words as we kissed, until she pulled away.

'Santana,' I groaned, trying to recapture her lips.

'Brittany, you're so greedy today,' she laughed.

'I've been resisting you all week,' I said, a little peeved.

She shook her head in exasperation, and grabbed my hand.

'Come on,' she said, pulling me along with her.

'Where are we going?' I said, bemused.

'Treehouse.'

My stomach lurched. The scene of our first kiss?

We had built it in the summer that we met – we were both seven and needed a lot of help from my Dad. But once it was done, we would spend hours at a time up there together, oblivious to the rest of the world.

So, on the day that Santana turned thirteen, we'd had enough practice of climbing the steep ladder.

She climbed up first, her dark hair billowing behind her in the breeze. I always struggled to find a handhold near the top and she had to reach out a hand to pull me up. I secretly quite enjoyed these times, though I never told her that.

Once we were up, panting slightly, we sat up against the back wall as always. We didn't speak at first – we didn't need to. We just sat there in the silence, listening to each other's breathing and stealing glances at each other.

'B, there's a spider in your hair,' said Santana, reaching over to brush it out, all smiles.

'Is it gone?' I said, when her hand lingered on my locks.

'Uh, yes.'

I frowned. Her hand now moved to stroke my cheek and I felt the heat rising in my face.

'W...What are you doing?'

She smiled sadly, moving closer so that her face was inches from mine.

'I've decided what I want for my birthday.'

I struggled to hear her over the sound of my pounding heart.

'Uh... What?'

'I... Want to try something.'

I looked into her dark eyes, and I couldn't hide my sudden fear.

'Don't freak out,' she murmured softly. She was drawing closer. I couldn't breath, I couldn't think of anything but the dark shade of her lips as they drew closer, obliterating all my senses. Her eyelids were closed and I hurriedly closed mine to match.

Her lips touched mine for the briefest of seconds, in which my mind became icily clear and I heard the tiniest whimper that left her, before she pulled away. She looked shocked with herself.

And then I was kissing her with more fervour than I thought I contained, and she was kissing me back.

And although in reality I was suffering from the hard schoolwork and Santana's parents were fighting, it seemed perfectly okay to sit in this old treehouse and kiss Santana, and forget the world.

I remembered how easy everything had felt when I kissed Santana for the first time, as she climbed up the rotting wooden ladder to our tree house.

I remembered how literally nothing had mattered except that I had a chance to kiss her again – and although I hadn't realised it at the time, I had been in love with her since the first moment our lips met. I was just too young to understand.

When she was up, she automatically reached out her hand to help me up, even though I probably could have found a hand hold somewhere.

I took her hand, blushing a little, and she pulled me up into her arms.

Her hands found my hips and she pulled me close, and I gasped slightly. I could feel our hearts beating extremely fast against one another.

She smiled, but it was a sad smile, like the one she had worn on that day so many years ago.

She sat down against the back wall and I followed suit, unable to take my eyes off her lips.

'I love you,' I said before I could stop myself. 'God, I love you.'

'I love you,' she repeated, almost like she was tasting the words on her tongue. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

And then we were kissing again, and once more I could forget about all the drama at school, Karofsky coming out, Glee club fights and make-ups, our preparation for Sectionals.

I realised that Santana had that affect on me, whatever the circumstance. I wondered if she could ever grow as attached to me, as I was to her.

And had always been.

A/N: Jeez, this took me ages. Sorry about that, was enjoying the sunshine. But it's back to work now, though. (Then again, I say that every time) Wow, so many reviews already, I never thought I'd get this far. Please keep it up, I adore hearing your feedback.