Note:
Hey guys. Here's part 2 of the 2 chapters dealing with the I Kissed A Girl.
It was a difficult chapter, and I hope you guys like it.
I say this every time but thank you all so, so much for reviewing and stuff. So many awesome and interesting things being said and I appreciate and consider every one of them.
I don't really have much to say about this chapter- like explaining wise... It's muddled my head because I've chopped and changed it more than any other chapter so far. I guess because there was so much left out of the actual episode and it was hard to pick out which themes I should explore further.
If you have any questions about how I did things please feel free to ask!
Ch 15: Family
Santana:
"Lopez!" Santana had been heading absently for her locker when she heard her name being called. Her thoughts were all spun out along the day she'd just had and she blinked herself back to the present, frowning around the empty corridor.
Then her name was called again and she spotted Coach Sue through the glass walls of her office.
"In here. I want a word."
Hesitantly, Santana doubled back down the hallway to stand in Coach Sue's office doorway.
"Coach?"
Not glancing up from the map on her desk, Coach Sue jerked her hand towards the chairs opposite.
"Have a seat."
Figuring she had no other option, Santana walked carefully across the office and sunk down into one of them. She wrinkled her nose, smelling gasoline.
Coach Sue had glanced up and caught her expression. "Oh, don't be alarmed by the smell. I'm just soaking Burt Hummel's flannel shirts."
"Oh, right." Santana nodded, trying to keep her discomfort in check.
"Look, Coach, if this is about the gravel I put in Becky's protein shake yesterday I feel that I have to point out that the bitch deserved it. She put mud in mine."
Coach waved a hand dismissively.
"Oh I don't really want to get into whatever twisted, food-based foreplay you girls engage in. Contrary to popular belief, the things you ingest really don't interest me. Unless of course it's complex-carbohydrates, in which case you shall receive a letter from my lawyer informing you of your pending deportation from this country, following a violation of paragraph 15, section 7 of your Cheerio's contract."
Coach Sue steepled her fingers and brought them up under her chin.
"I called you in here to ask you how you are," she said, looking steadily at Santana.
Santana blinked in amazement.
"You've never cared how I was before," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Why does it matter now? Do you know something I don't? Is this about the ad?"
Coach sighed, placing her pen down and removing her glasses.
"I still haven't been able to locate the film reels of said ad," she said bitterly. "That's what this map is for. I'm plotting the coordinates for possible locations of Salazar's advertising bunker."
"…that's a map of Liechtenstein…" Santana pointed out.
"Mmm, well toots, you never can be too careful." Coach swept her hand across the map, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Which leads me to my next point of order: what's your plan, S?"
"Plan for what?"
Coach Sue tilted her head.
"Your plan about how you are going to get through the fact that your thin veil of heterosexuality is about to be steamrolled by this ad, exposing you in all your glorious sexual deviance. Jesus's words, not mine," She added, holding up her hands.
Santana looked down in her lap.
"I guess I don't have one." She mumbled.
Coach Sue tossed her head to the side in disbelief.
"Oh come on, Sand-bags. You're a smart girl. You've learnt manipulation, tactical excellence and a tinge of sadism under my very own hand. And yet here you are, about to face challenges that people twice your age would struggle with, telling me you haven't got a plan?"
Santana stared at Coach Sue, her eyebrows twitching in a frown. She tears were building- hot in the back of her eyes.
"I-I don't...I haven't decided yet."
"Ah," Coach tilted her chin upwards, her eyes darting across Santana's face. "You're a bit lost."
"Uhuh. A bit," Santana admitted.
"Well, you can sing lady songs till your blue in the face and have three extra vaginas, but it won't change the way this is going to go down. So, do you mind if I add a dash of Sue flavoured genius to the cocktail of predictably useless advice sloshing around in your head?"
Santana shook her head wearily. "Be my guest."
Coach Sue nodded, placing her palms flat on her desk and leaning towards Santana.
"As I see it, you have two possible situations that you need to choose between. The first begins when your family see the ad, and believe me- they will see it- even the ones running drug cartels in Mexico. And when they ask you about it- you will lie. You will pretend you know nothing. You will lie for all you're worth- until you can't remember where the truth went, only that it left you a long time ago.
"And then," Coach twisted her lips to the side grimly, "the paranoia will set in. You'll avoid public bathrooms in case you succumb to your urges and take a peak under the stall dividers. You'll clear your browser history as regularly as Emma Pillsbury clips her stray tooth brush bristles. You'll turn into a shivering mess during the annual increase of rainbows in springtime Ohio."
Coach Sue leaned forward, her eyes boring into Santana's.
"And then," she said softly, "your parents will begin to question your relationship with Brittany. And you will lie and tell them she's just a friend. And by then, you may have become such a convincing liar that Brittany, bless her, starts to believe you too. And you only need to watch any angsty teen drama from the early 2000s to know where things will go from there."
Santana found it hard to swallow against the lump in her throat.
"Or," Coach Sue shrugged, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms behind her head, "you can choose door number two. You can go home today and sit your parents down, take a deep breath, and tell them who you are. You can let them know you. You can warn them about the ad. You can tell them that you've never been more scared in your life.
"Telling the truth is never easy. And it comes with its own unique kind of pain. But it's the only real thing. And, S, chances are your parents will get angry. But maybe not at you. Maybe at me. Maybe at themselves. Hopefully at Salazar. Your father's a doctor, right?"
"Uhuh," Santana nodded.
"Good," Coach Sue leant forwards and banged her fist on the table, making Santana jump. "He can sue him for everything he has until he ends up a broken man who puts pigeons on leashes and gets his nutrients from eating his own fingernails."
Coach got up off her chair and wandered around her desk, trailing her hand across the map. "If I could make this better for you Santana, I would." She propped herself up on the edge of the desk, looking down into Santana's face.
"No one deserves to have this happen to them. Apart from Will Schuster. Oh and that short, fat, orange person who does her hair like Amy Winehouse. But not you. Do I make myself clear?"
Santana nodded, sweeping the back of her hand across her cheeks to catch the tears.
"Good. Now get out of my office. The carpet in here was shipped from Peru and the natural salt in your tears will cause the color to weaken. Out."
She stood in the doorway for Brittany's room and watched her lay on her bed. She was turned onto her tummy, looking down at an exercise book. Her legs swayed aimlessly above the rest of her body. Her hair was flipped carelessly over to one side of her head, all tucked behind one ear. But it kept slipping across her face no matter how often she tucked it back.
Santana didn't get how Brittany could surprise her every day. Surely Santana thought, she'd be used to all these feelings by now- the feeling of being plunged into warm water when she saw Brittany. Or the feeling of being legitimately concerned about the muscles in her cheeks because, shit, she just couldn't help but grin all wide and stupid. And Britt doesn't even have to be looking at her to make it happen. She can be just laying on her bed, not even seeing Santana, humming to herself.
Santana recognised the tune- Finn's stripped down version of Girls Just Want to Have Fun.
"I'd have picked you to prefer the original," she said from the doorway. Brittany jumped, snapping her head around to look at Santana.
"What are you doing here?" Brittany grinned, backing up off the bed.
Santana held up the brown paper bag in her hand.
"I got Thai and," she held up a bottle of Rosé.
Brittany approached her with a quizzical smile. "Date night isn't till next week though."
"Oh, okay. Well, guess I'll just take this back then," Santana made a move towards the door but Brittany reached out to stop her.
"No, no. Are you crazy? Come back here," she said, tugging Santana forwards by the forearm and planting a kiss on her cheek. Santana smirked.
"That's more like it." She let Brittany tug her over to the bed and put the Thai and wine on the bedside table so she could stretch across to scratch Lord Tubbington.
"Hey, LT," she murmured. She noticed the exercise book that Brittany had been writing in near her leg.
"The Conspiracy around Conspiracy Theories- an opinion piece by Brittany S. Pierce," Santana read aloud.
"Oh, that's for English," Brittany explained. "I don't have much but can you proof read it while I get cups and forks?"
Santana settled back into Brittany's pillows and picked up the paper and pen, one hand absentmindedly stroking Lord Tubbington's head.
"So," Brittany started when she arrived back and had sat down cross legged at the end of her bed. "What's the special occasion?"
Santana looked up at her, the words swelling in her chest sort of felt like pride.
"Well, I told my parents today after school."
"No way," Brittany was looking at her in awe, her mouth half open and her eyes bright and wide. "Are you serious? For real?"
"Uhuh," Santana nodded and laughed as Brittany pumped her fist in the air.
"Yuss! Yuss, yuss, yuss!" She exclaimed, bobbing up and down on the bed enough to make Lord Tubbington flatten his ears and tense his claws against the blanket.
Then suddenly Brittany stilled, her grin faltering. "Wait...you're not here because they kicked you out, right?"
Santana shook her head.
"And- and you told them everything?"
"Everything," Santana nodded. "They were both home when I got back from school and they never usually are so I took it as a sign and...and well, yeah. They were...they accepted it all. Apart from the bit about the ad," Santana shook her head. "Phew, that was not pretty."
"I bet," Brittany said grimly. There was a pause and Santana watched as, despite herself, Brittany's face stretched into a slow, wide smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. Then, with a squeal that sent Lord Tubbington wobbling off the bed in panic, Brittany launched herself towards Santana, practically bowling her backwards against the headboard.
"Britt…" she managed, laughing as her face was jammed into Brittany's shoulder. Brittany's arms were around Santana's neck, and her boobs had rested themselves against Santana's collarbones. Santana knew that she was going to lose her appetite for anything but Brittany if they didn't disengage soon.
"Get off, get off," she laughed, pushing her hands against Brittany's hip bones. Brittany however, clung on tightly.
"I'm so, so, so, so, so, so proud of you. I'm prouder of you than I've ever been of anyone in my whole life."
Santana hooked her chin over Brittany's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her back, suddenly not ready to have Brittany pull away.
"My little unicorn is all grown up," Brittany murmured.
"Okay seriously, get off now," Santana laughed, pushing again against her hips.
Brittany reluctantly shifted off Santana and sat back up, her pony tail ridiculously askew. Fondly, Santana reached up and tugged it back into place.
"Shall we eat then?" she asked.
Brittany hesitated, looking over at the wine.
"How about some of that first?" Santana raised her eyebrow at the suggestiveness in Brittany's tone and reached for the bottle.
"Where are your parents?" She asked- trying to sound casual as she peeled the foil off the top of the bottle.
"At my grandparents place for a couple of nights. They both took time off work to go to some garden convention thing." Brittany shrugged.
"Hey, is that the one that tastes like alcoholic strawberries?" She asked, watching Santana ease the cork off. Once it had popped Santana held the bottle up to Brittany's nose.
"Smell and see for yourself."
Brittany's hand closed around the neck of the bottle and she pulled it away from Santana's grasp, tilting her head back to take a large gulp.
"Classy," Santana laughed as Brittany swallowed awkwardly, holding a hand up to her nose.
"The bubbles make me want to sneeze. But yep, as I suspected," she smacked her lips and held the bottle up to look at the label, "drunk strawberries."
"It'll be drunk Brittany if you're not careful," Santana pointed out, watching Brittany take her second swig.
"What's so bad about that? You like drunk Brittany."
Santana took the bottle off Brittany and tilted it to her own lips. It was good- top shelf shit from her parent's collection.
The mattress jostled as Brittany wiggled further up the bed. Santana looked at her over the raised bottle, still swallowing the wine down. When she was done she handed it back to Brittany, enjoying the light haze of alcohol that was bubbling up to her brain.
They passed the bottle back and forth until it was three quarters gone. By then, Santana had nestled herself further back against Brittany's pillows. Her thoughts had been comfortably dulled by the rapid intake of wine and it left room for her to just sit and take Brittany in.
Brittany, who was in the mood for dancing.
She'd gotten up off the bed and swayed over to where her iPod was docked in her speakers, bending over and purposefully wiggling her bum as she chose a song. Santana grinned, gladly letting herself look.
As an R'n'B beat swelled from the speakers, Brittany spun on her heel and beckoned to Santana.
"Come here and dance."
"Come get me," Santana teased.
Brittany raised her eyebrows. "Ohh, so that's how this is going to go down?"
"You tell me," Santana challenged, notching her chin up and smirking as Brittany gave in, sauntering over and kneeling upright at the end of the mattress. She beckoned Santana forwards.
Huffing a theatrical sigh, Santana shuffled over on her knees. When she was within arm's reach Brittany threaded hers around Santana's waist, pulling their hips flush up against one another. With one hand on Santana's lower back, guiding her, Brittany swung her hips from side to side, taking Santana's along with her.
Arousal parted Santana's lips and she closed her eyes to feel Brittany against her more fully. When she opened them again she saw Brittany's lips upturned in a small, satisfied smile.
"You're not hungry are you?" Santana asked.
Brittany shrugged, flicking her eyes to the Thai.
"I will be later."
"Mmm?" Santana watched smugly as Brittany's eyes drifted down to her lips.
"Mmm," Brittany echoed faintly.
Brittany's lips tasted like vanilla. But her tongue was all wine- hot and sweet with that alcoholic bite. Santana wanted to kiss her forever. She wanted all of her. She wanted it now. She just couldn't get close enough.
Frustrated, blind with arousal, Santana flipped Brittany onto her back, tugging roughly at her t-shirt. Once it was off she lowered her lips hungrily to Brittany's rolling stomach, to the dips on the insides of her hipbones and back up to the pink lace of her bra.
Brittany, breathing roughly, twisted her hands around her back and removed it so that Santana could get her lips against her bare breasts. Shivering as she felt the soft weight of them in her palms, Santana lowered her face to suck hotly at one nipple and then at another- spurred on by Brittany's stiffened fingers in her hair.
In a blur, Santana removed the rest of Brittany's clothing and then her own until they were naked against one another, moving their mouths and hands haphazardly.
"Santana...just…oh…" Brittany's voice faltered and morphed into a groan as Santana's fingers trailed across her folds. "I-I want…" She started, breathing hard.
Santana came up to look at Brittany's face.
"Decime lo que quieres baby?" she whispered.
Brittany kissed her then, forcefully- her tongue climbing against Santana's. When she broke away they were both out of breath and Santana could see an unusual intensity in Brittany's eyes.
She rolled out from underneath Santana, not breaking eye contact, and shifted so that she was kneeling in between Santana's legs. Still not looking away from Santana's face, Brittany placed her palms against Santana's knees and fanned her fingers out, sliding them slowly down her thighs.
Santana felt her chest constrict as they inched further in between her legs. She tilted her head back, and closed her eyes- the anticipation too much.
Then, the breath was snatched from her throat and she gasped, jerking her head upright to see back down her body. Brittany's hands remained spread out across Santana's thighs but her body was lowered to the mattress and her head was in between Santana's legs. It was Brittany's tongue, gentle and hot, that was exploring her.
Santana froze, not knowing what to do. The panic and the pleasure clashed inside of her. Her breathing staggered as she felt Brittany's tongue sweep and curl up around her sensitive nerve endings. Her hair was tickling softly at the inside of Santana's thighs, her palms pressing down- keeping them apart.
Santana gaped wordlessly at the ceiling. This had never happened before- Santana had never let it. The only times anyone had ever done this to her was when she'd been too drunk to protest- and it had been Puck which hardly counted because he'd treated her like a double-scoop waffle cone .
But this. Santana's mouth opened, but all that happened was her hips jarred harder against Brittany's face.
And then, when Santana thought it couldn't get any better, Brittany slipped her fingers inside of her.
Santana must have cried out- she must have, because when she opened her eyes again, panting through the pleasure, Brittany's face was above her own, furrowed with worry.
"Did I hurt you?" She whispered.
"No, no," Santana shook her head, her whole body tensed at the fact that Brittany's fingers were still inside her. Santana swept the stray bits of hair back that had stuck to Brittany's face and then snaked her arms around Brittany's body, shivering at the feel of her soft skin. She nuzzled her face into Brittany's neck and kissed it.
Hesitantly, Brittany began to move inside of her again, curling her fingers upwards. Hitting right there.
Santana felt her muscles go jelly and stone all at the same time. Every nerve was bound to Brittany's movements. She didn't know whether she was blacking out or seeing stars but Santana lost herself in the rhythm.
And then she wasn't in her body and everything was rushing around her and she thought of a Floo Powder ride on Harry Potter and how she must tell Brittany because she'd be proud of her for thinking that and, oh, oh god she must have drunk too much because…
Her arms were boa constrictors around Brittany's shoulders. Her nails scrambled for purchase against Brittany's skin. Brittany's hair was across her face, her lips were at her neck and Santana's insides were gripping her fingers with all the strength she never knew she had.
She drew back like a wave. Back, back, back until she became all rush and fury and force so that her body collided with Brittany's and for several, long, flexing seconds it was only them in the whole world.
They washed up amidst the wreckage of Brittany's sheets, hot and sweating and breathing jaggedly into one another's faces.
Brittany:
The first impression Brittany had of real life through her sleep was a heavy warmth on her chest. And then she thought she could feel someone kneading one of her boobs. Keeping her eyes closed, Brittany mumbling Santana a good morning, pouting her lips for a kiss.
Something warm and rough as sandpaper caught the bottom of her chin. Brittany smelt tuna and wrinkled her nose. Opening her eyes and blinking back the haziness she tried to see what Santana was doing.
Lord Tubbington blinked lazily back at her. Then, yawning, he shifted his bulk around to settle more comfortably on her chest. His paws where still kneading her boob and Brittany felt a tinge of pain as one of his claws dug through her t-shirt.
"Oh, hey Tubs," She murmured, scratching him behind his ears. The cat bumped his head up harder against her palm and began to purr as loudly as an idling 747.
Brittany glanced warily across the bed at Santana, checking that the noise hadn't disturbed her. Santana was lying on her tummy with her faced turned away from Brittany. Her limbs were sprawled carelessly around the bed and her breathing was deep and even. Brittany smiled fondly across at her.
"Isn't she cute Lord T?" Brittany whispered. H purred louder to answer and Brittany frowned, pushing a finger against his nose to shush him.
This seemed to irk him and he stretched away from her, digging claws into her ribs as he maneuvered himself up and off of her, heading across the bed towards Santana.
Brittany leant over and wrapped her arms around his belly, capturing him before he clawed his way onto Santana's back. She heaved him back across herself and deposited him down on the floor beside her bed, jostling the mattress as she struggled with his weight.
Beside her, Santana's sleepy breathing pattern broke and Brittany heard her inhale sharply into consciousness. Careful not to disturb the mattress anymore, Brittany rolled slowly on her side to face Santana's back, hoping she'd turn around for snuggles.
Sighing, Santana shifted to lie on her back, rubbing her eyes and blinking at the ceiling. Then she looked across and caught Brittany looking at her.
"Good morning," she mumbled, stretching out an arm and snaking it under Brittany's neck. Brittany rolled in closer to her, pressing her face into Santana's neck and inhaling the sleep musk of her skin.
"Sorry I woke you up, I was trying to save you from Lord Tubbington."
Santana's body went taunt as she stretched. "That's okay, probably time we get up anyway. You nervous?"
Brittany frowned. "To get up?"
"No, the elections are today, remember?"
With everything that had happened, Brittany hadn't remembered. She suddenly felt all funny- like that time she had too many turns on the teacup ride.
"Now that I've remembered, I am," she admitted.
"Don't be," Santana hugged her closer, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "You have this in the bag. Kurt's running against you- I mean, there's you're winning advantage right there."
"Kurt's a good guy though," Brittany reasoned.
"He's alright." Santana's shrug made Brittany's head bob up and down. "Bit of a stretch calling him a guy though."
Brittany aimlessly traced a finger across the lettering on the chest of Santana's Lebanese t-shirt, thinking about the election. She wondered if voting would be like on Survivor and if she and Kurt would get fire torches.
The tribe has spoken.
Brittany's bedroom was suddenly filled with a rumbling that was even louder than Lord Tubbington's purring. She and Santana both jumped.
"What the hell is that?" Santana asked, sitting up and looking around. Brittany twisted to her bedside table, picking up her spasming phone.
"It's Rachel calling," she frowned, holding up the phone so Santana could see the name flashing on the screen.
"Jesus don't answer it," Santana said, wrinkling her nose.
"She never calls though…" Brittany hesitated and then with an apologetic look at Santana, she hit the answer button.
"Hello, this is Brittany speaking," She said.
"Y-yes. Hello Brittany. How are you this morning?"
"Fine."
"Okay. I'm glad to hear that. I-I was wondering if perhaps Santana was with you."
Brittany glanced across at Santana, who was watching her with her eyebrows slung low over her eyes.
"I'm not sure I can disclose that information," Brittany answered.
"Oh okay. Well, speaking hypothetically…If she was would I be able to talk to her? I would have called her phone but she told me that if I ever did she would give my details to homeland security." Brittany glanced across at Santana again.
"She wants to talk to you," she mouthed.
"Good God," Santana muttered. She reached across and snatched the phone from Brittany's hand.
"Oh, okay, bye Rachel…" Brittany called as the phone passed her face.
"What," Santana snapped into the phone.
"Loudspeaker," Brittany mouthed.
Nodding, Santana drew the phone away and hit the loud speaker button. Rachel's voice, mid-sentence, erupted from the speaker- "So then she agreed and said…"
"Hold on, hold on. Start again."
"Well, I've been at school for two hours now, helping Kurt set up his pre-election final campaign push, and whilst I was in the girls' bathroom adding Kurt-themed paper towels to the dispenser I had one of my caffeine inspired brain waves. All us girls should do a number for lady week! Now, I've already contacted Mercedes and Tina and they got in touch with Quinn and Sugar and they are all on board. So all you and Brittany have to do is say yes."
Brittany exchanged a look with Santana, wondering if she should have put Brittany themed things around the school too. Like chalk. And cafeteria trays. She felt even worse about the elections now.
Santana squeezed her arm.
"Losers," she mouthed, rolling her eyes.
"Berry, as much as I hate you, the idea of the number does sound okay. Depending which song it is and if I get the solo."
There was a beep.
"It's Mercedes," Rachel said. "I'm going party line."
"Did you get hold of Santana?" Mercedes voice sounded. "I called her phone but it's off."
"We're on party line Wheezy. Britt and I."
"Oh, cool, hey guys!"
Mercedes made Brittany a little more cheerful. "Hey!" She called into the speaker.
"So, you guys like the I Kissed a Girl idea?" Mercedes asked.
"I Kissed a Girl?" Santana laughed down at Brittany. "That's subtle."
"That was my idea," Mercedes laughed. "Thought it would be funny."
"Are we going to kiss each other?" Brittany asked. "Because if that's the plan I dibs Santana."
She grinned as Santana flicked her eyes down at her, smirking.
"Uh-n-no Brittany. I have a boyfriend," Rachel reminded her.
"No, you have a Sea Cow." Santana corrected.
"So you like the song choice?" Mercedes prompted. Santana raised her eyebrows at Brittany who shrugged. It was really Santana's choice. It was old news that Brittany kissed girls and liked it. But she preferred the taste of the Berry Jelly Donut flavoured chapstick to the Cherry one.
"Britts and I are in. Are we soloing this shit Cedes?"
"A-actually," Rachel cut over Mercedes, "I thought seeing as it was my idea to do a number in first place that I would share the solo with you Santana."
"I'll just let Rachel have this one," Mercedes said. "Got to throw her a bone before she loses at Sectionals next week."
"Urgh. Alright. Just please, dear god don't make too much eye contact with me."
"Right, okay good." Rachel said briskly. "I guess I'll see you and Brittany soon when you two arrive to prep for the election. I've just finished wooing Lenny the groundskeeper with orange flavoured jelly so that he'd vote for Kurt."
Brittany's tummy felt like it was tied in one of those elaborate sailors knots. She glanced at Santana who was looking at the phone in disgust.
"We don't have a groundskeeper called Lenny," Mercedes pointed out.
"You probably just wasted all your efforts on Stiffy Steve- the resident lurker outside the girls changing room windows. Great campaign strategy Berry." Santana said. "And just by the way, we don't need to do any last minute campaigning," she continued, her eyes locked reassuringly on Brittany's. "Together Britts and I have probably slept with 75% of the people voting today."
"And sex beats orange jelly any day," Brittany pointed out.
Santana:
Santana felt drunk. All her senses had warped- she was aware of her head jerking as she walked- but not of the ground beneath her. That was until she hit the grassy verge that separated the pavement from the roadside. She stumbled as her heels sank into the soften earth.
Her body gave her two slow, curdling seconds of nausea as a pre-vomit warning. Then she was doubled over, retching and coughing it onto the grass.
She was making a lot of noise and imagined all her Abuela's neighbours crowded at their windows, watching her through the gaps in their curtains.
It would be their first inkling of the scandal.
Wiping her mouth with a shaking hand, Santana raised her eyes to the dark shape of her Abuela's house.
It was a house Santana had known all her life. She couldn't think about her childhood without the image of the place being dragged along in tow.
She remembered playing Blind Mans Bluff in the back yard with her cousins. Helping her Abuela pick up the pears that had fallen off the tree in case they burst under the lawn mower. And the special room- the third door down the hallway where Abuela kept all the special things- like her collection of stiff faced Spanish dolls and Abuelo's war magazines. And his piano- dormant since the year he'd died.
Santana stood there in the dark, glaring up at the room's black windows, amazed at how one incident could wipe the slate clean of good memories. When she looked at up at this house she no longer felt a tie there. Santana knew if she ever went back she'd only feel what she was feeling right now. She'd only hear again what her Abuela had said to her.
I never want to see you again.
She bent back towards the ground, taking slow steadying breaths to repel another rise of nausea.
A light switched on nearby and Santana jerked her head up, a hand clamped over her mouth. Something had triggered the security sensor light down the side of her Abuela's house. Santana could see moths darting around it, casting warping shadows across the illuminated concrete.
Santana squinted, her heart in her mouth, waiting to see if her Abuela would appear. But the concrete path stayed empty and after a moment, the light clicked off. Santana was plunged back into darkness.
In accordance with her Abuela's rules, Santana had left her phone in the car before she'd gone inside. It was buzzing in the cavity of her centre console when she slid back into the car.
Britt Britt: I know your phone is in your car but don't worry, I know to aim my good luck vibes through the back door because your Abuela always keeps the front one locked.
Santana closed her eyes and leant back against the head rest. She felt stilled by in an odd, icy calm.
After a while, she looked back down at her phone in her hand and clicked 'reply' to Brittany's last text.
Done here. On my way over now.
Brittany:
"Na-uh," Brittany swatted Finn's hand away from the bowl of Amped Apple & Lightning Lemon flavoured Nerds. "Those are Santana's remember? We're…"
"We're waiting for her to get here, yeah, yeah. You told me that when I tried to have a carrot stick."
"The nerds and the carrot sticks and the Diet Dr Pepper, the pita chips, the Ricotta dip and also the coffee flavoured wafer straws are Santana's favourite snacks and we can't eat them till she arrives."
Finn nodded, turning glumly away.
"Hey, but!" Brittany grabbed his arm, putting on her best enthusiastic voice. "There is still Kurt and Blaine's block of old cheese and Rachel's tofu sausage rolls to eat."
Finn didn't look enthused.
"The sausage rolls taste like feet. But there are ways to be okay with that," Brittany assured him.
"I'll see how that goes for me…Thanks Britt," He said, edging around the table looking pensively at the sausage rolls.
"Hey Britt," Rory and Tina sidled up to her. They had matching Cheshire cat grins.
"We both just wanted to congratulate you," Tina said in a low voice.
"Yeah, we got a sneak peak at tomorrow's daily notices and saw the Senior President Winner announcement," Rory smiled.
Brittany smiled gratefully back at them. "Thanks guys. But you guys have to make sure you don't tell anyone because I don't want to see Kurt being a sad unicorn for any longer than he has to."
Tina frowned. "He cheated Britt. It's not cool. I'm glad you won."
"Word." Rory said.
Tina shot him a look.
"What? Is that not the right way to say it?" He frowned.
"Don't say that again okay?" Brittany patted Rory's arm and moved past them, sneaking a finger against her lips as a reminder.
She approached the living room window where Sugar was perched on the windowsill, drinking juice with Brittany's curly Miss Piggy straw. Her face was so close to the window glass that her nose was smooshed against it.
"You can only see the second star to the right from the spare bedroom window," Brittany said helpfully.
"Huh?" Sugar jerked her head around, the straw stuck to her bottom lip. "I'm not star gazing. That's what mirrors are for. I'm on Santana Lookout Duty." She said, puffing her chest out importantly.
"Oh…"
"Yeah. Mercedes gave me the job. She said it was so important that I couldn't talk to anyone so ta-ta," Sugar flicked her fingers at Brittany and resumed drinking, pressing her face once more to the window.
"Britt, your phone!" Artie, Mercedes and Blaine chorused. Brittany turned to see them pointing to the coffee table, where Brittany's phone was receiving a text.
Brittany picked up her phone and saw it was from Santana. Her tummy went tight with nerves, even though she was 87.6 per cent sure that Santana's Abuela would be okay with what Santana had to tell her. Brittany had met her once and she'd liked the fact that she had Santana's laugh. And also that she'd shown Brittany how to roll her burrito so that she didn't lose half the filling out the bottom.
Mike turned the stereo down so that Brittany could read the text out loud.
"Done here. On my way over now." Brittany looked up from her phone frowning.
"Is that meant to be a happy text?" Rory asked.
"I don't know." Brittany glanced at Mercedes and was not comforted by what she saw on her face.
"I'm- I'm sure it's okay." Blaine said. But he looked like his words tasted funny.
"Britt, did you…" Finn paused, shooting Rachel a worried look. Brittany's heart was creeping into her mouth. She looked at Rachel too who was edging closer to her.
"Brittany did you...did you ever consider that maybe it might not go so well? And that if it didn't, Santana might not be… be comfortable with us all being here?"
Brittany went red, panic starting to tingle in her chest. It felt like pins and needles for her insides.
"No. Because it will have gone fine." She said, nodding so that everyone knew she was agreeing with herself.
She looked around at the others but they kept on dropping their eyes away from hers. Kurt turned to look out the window nervously.
Mercedes walked over and squeezed her shoulder.
"It's okay." But that was all she said and suddenly Brittany knew it wasn't okay.
"Should…should I call her?" She asked, her voice all high and funny. The tears were coming. "I don't know what to do…" She admitted.
Rachel stepped up to her and took one of her hands.
"Now, now, don't get upset. All you've got to do is meet Santana in the foyer and see how it went. If it was bad just come back and tell us and we'll leave."
Sugar suddenly drew back from the window, her face twitching with an odd mix of terror and excitement.
"Guys. Guys. I just saw a car pull up," she whispered theatrically. "I think she's coming."
Brittany felt the room tense. Or maybe her nerves just had their own gravity.
Rachel nodded her encouragingly towards the foyer.
Brittany walked out of the lounge, sliding its door closed behind her. She hovered near the shoe rack, listening to the faint tinkle of car keys and the muffled clop of Santana's heels on the concrete.
When opened the door and appear around it, Brittany blinked in confusion because she didn't look like Santana. And then Brittany's insides turned cold as she realised it was because Santana's make-up was in ruins down her face and her eyes were so swollen she could have been beaten up.
Automatically Brittany started towards her, her arms outstretched. Santana backed away from her and the coldness in her look made Brittany stop short.
"Got company?" She asked. Her voice was loaded with something that scared Brittany.
"Yeah because I invited…I invited everyone over to celebrate because I thought…"
"No," Santana lashed her voice over Brittany's. "No, you didn't think. That's the problem here."
Brittany opened and closed her mouth in panic- until she purchased on Rachel's earlier suggestion.
"I'll- I'll go tell them to go," she backed towards the lounge.
Santana waved her hand, "Oh please. Not on my account. They're obviously the ones you want to spend your time with. And honestly, I don't blame you. Having a girlfriend who has to come out to her family must be so boring. And you're all for fun aren't you, Britt? So please, go and entertain. And hey, this would be a great time to test the popularity of your upcoming Topless Tuesday policy."
Brittany stared at Santana, disbelief mounting. She had her Finn voice on- that sarcastic sneer that sometimes made Brittany laugh. But not now.
"What are you talking about? Can you just- can you just slow down and let me explain?"
Santana screwed her face up in disgust, looking Brittany up and down. "Honestly, I don't think I want to hear it. I've heard enough bullshit tonight."
Brittany reached out again, trying to get Santana close enough to calm her down. Santana jerked violently away from her.
"Don't touch me," she sneered.
"Santana!" Mercedes voice rang like a shot across the foyer. It was full of authority.
Rachel appeared in the lounge doorway beside her, looking pleadingly at Santana.
"Santana, just, just calm down okay?" She said, raising her hands. "It's not what you think…"
"Don't you frigging daretell me what to do," Santana shouted, her voice cracking. The sound made Brittany jump and the fright jerked tears into her eyes.
"Well someone has to before you do something infinitely stupid." Kurt had arrived in the doorway on the other side of Mercedes.
Santana rounded on him.
"What did you just say to me?" Her voice was tilted menacingly. She stepped right up into Kurt's face but it he didn't flinch away.
"That's right, I called you stupid. And with good reason. Sure, Brittany was a bit too eager to celebrate. But she did it all for you. If you didn't get that then you deserve to be called stupid."
Brittany held her breath, stealing a glance sideways to catch Santana's reaction. She had backed away from Kurt and closed her mouth. Brittany could see the ripple of tears beneath her stony face.
Rachel must have seen them too because she stepped away from the door way, approaching Santana with her eyes softening.
"I'm- I'm so sorry it went badly."
It took all Brittany's strength to watch Santana's features squeeze together in pain. Rachel stepped forwards and tucked Santana into a hug.
"We are all going to be here for you. That's why we're came here in the first place," she said.
"We hoped it would be to celebrate," Mercedes added, stepping forward as well. "But…either way we know you've been so brave."
Santana stood stiffly in Rachel's arms for a moment and then raised her hands to cover her face. Her shoulders began to shake.
Brittany hovered beside them- not knowing anything. Not knowing what to say or how to get Santana into her arms where Brittany needed her.
Santana dropped her hands and looked over Rachel's shoulder at her. Her expression said she was sorry. Brittany's own face began its fight against her tears.
Santana pulled out of Rachel's hug, giving her a grateful nod and stepped up to Brittany. Her mouth opened, quivered, but she didn't get any words out.
Brittany guessed she was just trying to apologise so she nodded her head and held out her arms.
It was a small gift when Brittany felt Santana curve into her embrace- leaning so heavily into her that after a beat, Brittany realised she was holding Santana up.
"Do you want to go upstairs?" She mumbled into Santana's hair.
"Lounge is okay," Santana said thickly.
Mercedes, Kurt and Rachel lead them back through the door. Brittany saw everyone turn to them- their faces all anxious.
No one said anything or asked any questions. Finn and Artie put down their food, Blaine turned the stereo off and Rory and Sugar got up off the window sill. Tina and Mike vacated the two-seater so that Brittany could sink her and Santana into it.
When they all crowded around her and Santana, Brittany felt like invisible strings had coiled their way from her chest to each one of them. They were all tethered here together by Santana's pain.
They let Santana cry until she was taking juddering breaths and wiping her face. And then she flicked her eyes around them all one by one.
"Thank you," she said.