Sorry I had to upload again because I didn't proofread! (There may still be mistakes and man I really do need a beta).
Note:
Hello everyone, here's another one!
But first things first! Thank you for the reviews- as always you guys have out done yourselves with the encouragement and the advice- all of which I really appreciate.
A few people have pointed out that my accent is showing and aaahh I'm really sorry! I wish I could help it but I try my bestest. Perhaps I should get and American beta to help stop any slip ups. Any takers? (I have no idea how having beta works but if you're interested then PM me and enlighten me haha.) But really, I'm sorry if its been annoying.
This chapter was a bitch to write, imma be honest. Coming off the groundswell of emotion of the last episode it was hard to figure where to go, seeing as the actual episode this chapter is based on, Hold On To Sixteen, gave us soooo much continuity with Santana's emotional state (I mean srsly wtfff).
So I decided to experiment a bit. I though about how the episode was based on growing up but also embracing your youth etc- so I thought it'd be cool to visit a few Brittana memories that then connect into the scenes set in present day (hopefully).
It could be awful. It could be okay. I'm not sure and haven't really had time to decide seeing as this is just hot off the press.
Oh, and the random lyrics that head up each flash back?- My sad, misguided attempt to fit the flashbacks somehow to the Mellencamp song that the episode is titled after.
Woo okay, I'll leave you to it!
Ch 16: Hold On To Sixteen
"let me do what I please"
Brittany's goal for the summer was to become the first cheerleader to swim across the Atlantic ocean. Santana had to keep pointing out that she'd probably be the first person to attempt it, let alone cheerleader and how was Brittany expecting to survive when even the Titanic didn't make it?
"That's because the Titanic's watertight compartments weren't built high enough so the water overflowed into the other ones," Brittany pointed out. "And I plan on wearing my wetsuit to avoid that happening to me."
It was this genius reasoning that had landed Santana on the bank of Lake Winona for the fourth sunny day in a row. She lay, tanning, while Brittany swam back and forth in training.
It was, Santana thought, the perfect day today. The warmth of the sun was spread smoothly across Santana's exposed skin- it's bite counteracted by the wafting breeze. That, coupled with the the lapping of the water nearby made Santana's limbs heavy and her eyelids creep over her eyes. Up until then she had made a point of sitting up once in a while and looking over the rim of her glasses to make sure she could still see Brittany swimming fluidly in the distance- but she was losing the battle with drowsiness now and sleep was beginning to unfurl it's sails around her.
Santana gave in, letting her heavy eyelids go.
It was one of those times where you close your eyes for what feels like a split second and when you open them everything has changed.
When she came back to consciousness, the first thing Santana noticed was that she was wet. And not in a good way. There was also a heavy pressure on her hips- someone was sitting on her.
Brushing drips of water off her neck and cheeks, she blinked open her eyes.
Blearily, she recognised Brittany's face above her own, angled so she could peer past the shadows of Santana's glasses. Her hair had been turned dark blond and ropy from the water. Droplets were blooming at the ends of the strands and scattered across Santana's cheeks, forehead, the lenses of her glasses and her towel.
"Get off me, you're soaking Britt. Where's your towel? What are you doing?"
Brittany ignored her, bending closer.
"I have a secret to tell you."
Santana placed her hands on Brittany's upper legs and used them as leverage to sit up so that her face was level with Brittany's water flecked chest- and the pink cups of her bikini. She smelt like reeds and lake water and sunblock. Fighting the urge to press her lips against the angles of Brittany's collar bone, Santana looked up at her face.
"What is it?"
"I just saw Sam and Mercedes," She said, grinning happily.
"What? Where?"
"Around the lake a bit- under some trees." Alarmed, Santana wriggled out from beneath Brittany.
"Where abouts? Did they see you?" She stood up and walked to the edge of the water, trying to get a better look around the trees to the other cove of the lake.
"They were making out so I don't think they noticed me. I just swam past them." Brittany was still kneeling in the grass where Santana had left her.
Santana spun back to her in disbelief. "It can't be them then. There's no way."
"No, it totally was them."
"I think you have sunstroke," Santana said, picking her way back up the bank towards Brittany and bending to toss her the big floppy hat she'd discarded before she went into the water.
Brittany took it and jammed it on her head.
"I'm serious though,' she added, lifting up the flap of the hat to see Santana."It was definitely them." Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany's insistence and sat back down on her towel.
"Britts, I'll bet you anything you like that it isn't them. There is no way in hell that either of them would be attracted to one another. I mean, come on. Mercedes has jungle fever and Sam...I mean...he dated Quinn and I…"
"He dumped you both too," Brittany pointed out, looking down at the picture she was tracing in the dirt.
"No, no he didn't dump me. We just...we never really talked again after Trouty Mouth." Santana said, frowning as she tried to remember what actually had ended her and Sam. But it cleared when she looked over and realised that the answer was sitting in front of her, wiggling her toes deep into the loose dirt.
"So, technically you guys are still dating?"
Santana snorted. "It would be stretching the term to say we were dating." She shrugged, "mostly we just made out and once he brought me a lightsaber key ring."
"Cool," Brittany grinned. "So what are you willing to bet that it isn't him and Mercedes?"
Santana folded her arms and smirked. "I'm so confident that it isn't that you can choose what I bet you."
Brittany paused, pulling her lips to the side as she considered her options.
"I'd like to bet a kiss," she said finally.
"A kiss?" Santana raised her eyebrows. "That's not raising the stakes very high but alright."
Brittany swatted her. "Hey, shush you. I wasn't done! I want an exciting kiss."
Santana raised her eyebrows. "An exciting kiss?"
"Uh-huh. One that surprises me. One that I wouldn't expect."
Santana eyed her. "Fiine, I'll agree. But only because I know that you'll lose anyway. I mean, how are you going to prove it? And just FYI, I am not swimming around the cove to perve."
Brittany shrugged, looking back down to add the finishing touches to her drawing.
"I'll get proof eventually. Everyone always finds out whose been kissing who."
Santana felt her nerves tinge at that but she laughed it off, nudging Brittany's knee with her foot.
"You are so going to lose this bet."
"Well, I won. So cough up that kiss."
Santana flicked her eyes up from the reflection of her lips to see that Brittany had appeared in the school bathroom mirror behind her. She removed the lip gloss stick from her mouth and turned around, thanking every God she could think of that there was no one in the stalls.
"Hello to you too and what did you win?"
"The bet," Brittany said, bouncing on the balls of her feet and grinning like a kid in front of their Christmas stocking.
"Bet…" Santana narrowed her eyes in confusion
"The Sam and Mercedes bet that we made in the summer. At the lake? And you said that if I proved they were the ones kissing you'd…"
"Kiss you," Santana nodded, remembering. "Yeah, okay. But how did you find out?"
Brittany backed up against the sink and propped her butt up against it.
"Rory told me that Finn and Rachel went to get Sam from a strip club so that he could be in the New Directions for Sectionals. And then I saw him in the hallway just now asking Mercedes if they could start dating again."
"Really?" Santana said, staring absent mindedly at the reflection of the back of Brittany's head. "Interesting." She couldn't picture them together.
"Uhuh, so now that I've proved you wrong I get a kiss. "
Santana laughed and reached up to tug Brittany's ponytail. "I guess you do. Come on then," She jerked her head to one of the toilet stalls.
Brittany looked over at them and Santana could see her considering. Then she shook her head, vaulting off the sink and tweaking Santana's nose as she sauntered past her.
"It's not going to be that easy," she said over the noise from the hallway that had rushed in as she pulled open the bathroom door.
Santana tilted her head.
"Oh?"
"You promised an exciting kiss! See you at lunch!"
The door swung Brittany out of sight and Santana was left alone, wondering what exactly she could do to make a kiss exciting for her girlfriend.
Deciding that it would vaguely have something to do with a blindfold and some melted chocolate, Santana traced Brittany's steps to the door and opened it just as the bell rang for second period.
Aiming in the direction of her General Business class, her mind still unpacking a plan for the kiss, Santana fitted into the flow of the students.
She'd only taken about ten steps when she was jabbed sharply in the ribs from behind. Flinching and clutching her side, Santana spun around, expecting to see a stupid jock wearing a perverted grin.
"Hey Santana." Quinn was smiling demurely at her.
"Don't do that to me again," Santana snapped, rubbing her ribs gingerly.
"I hate Business," Quinn sighed in reply, falling into step beside Santana and drifting her eyes lazily across the corridor.
"It hates you too. Hey so, what's it like to have Trouty Mouth back?"
Quinn wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. Annoying coz he didn't want to date me. He told me I have 'rich white girl problems'."
"Oh-okay," Santana faltered, raising her eyebrows. "Have you decided you like him again?"
Quinn considered. "No, no not really. I just think he'd be useful. He'd be a great Dad to Beth."
At this, Santana's eyebrows shot higher and she stopped walking, touching Quinn on the shoulder to stop her as well.
"Wait, wait, wait. You," she broke into a laugh. "You're not serious are you?"
Quinn's eyebrows twitched into a frown. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, for the love of…" Santana tossed her head back in disbelief. "What kind of a pick up line is: 'Hey Sam, I know I cheated on you and stuff but lets get back together so we can steal my adopted baby back and live happily ever after with your parents under the bridge you guys rent'. Come on Q, lets have more game and less crazy, okay?"
"All I want," Quinn said through gritted teeth, "is to get my baby away from that woman."
Santana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Look, I get that you may have like...a problem with Shelby because she gets to raise the fruit of your womb or whatever, but you did make the right choice with her. She's a nice lady- once you get over the hideous fact that she's responsible for Rachel Berry."
"She's disgusting," Quinn spat, her features twisting in revulsion.
"Alright, alright. Go another stop along on the insane train Q," Santana said, throwing up her hands. "But honestly, I think you're deluding yourself about Sam, and Shelby and the whole baby situation. You need to find another similarly disturbing albeit less life-ruining thing to focus your fetishism around."
The look Quinn gave her was one Santana had seen often- the arrogance, the condescension. Santana had stood beside Quinn and watch people's self esteem shit itself and head south for the winter under this same look. But Santana had faced worse. After her abuela, Quinn's stare could have been a smile. Santana notched her chin back up and glared back.
"You know," Quinn said softly, "it's pretty rich of you to give people advice and accuse them of scheming and ruining lives. I mean, your cruel, conceitedness is something I've always liked about you. But running around behind everyone's backs screwing up their lives so that yours isn't ruined- well, I guess it isn't the first time the pot has called the kettle black, is it?."
Santana bristled in shock. "Um, excuse me? What the hell do you-"
"I don't think I'm going to go to class," Quinn interrupted in a faint, airy voice. Then she turned and walked stiffly down the corridor.
Santana stood, a stone in the stream of students, watching her go.
"scratches his head and does his best James Dean"
Santana had Brittany by the hand and her eyes set on one of the two doors at the end of the hallway. She'd only been to Finn Hudson's house once before- but that didn't really count because she'd only loitered drunkenly on the lawn at one of his parties before Puck had taken her back to his place- so she had no idea where either of the doors led. She picked the right one and tried the handle.
The door, as it turned out, led to a laundry.
Santana and Brittany stumbled inside, their drunkenness suddenly amplified in the small space. Santana surveyed the slightly swaying room noting that there was a sliding door open across one wall. She walked forwards and stuck her head through the opening, spotting a toilet and the destination of the other door in the hallway. Both of the hallway doors, it seemed, led to the same place. She pulled her head back and closed the sliding door then turned around to face Brittany.
By now, Brittany knew the drill- it was her job to lock the doors. It was Santana's job to check the room.
Brittany had done her job and was leaning her back against the door, her head tipped drunkenly to the ceiling. Santana's body was humming with anticipation that had been building all night so she didn't pause to look at her for too long. She was strictly business- and crossed the room to Brittany in two quick strides, crashing her mouth against Brittany's.
Brittany was caught by surprise- Santana could tell because her slackened lips took a beat to respond. But after a moment she was kissing Santana back just as hard- curling her fingers through Santana's hair, moulding her body to accommodate the press of Santana's up against it.
Santana didn't think she'd ever get used to the taste of Brittany's mouth and she darted her tongue deeper and deeper- feeling the drunken haze descend on her- blurring out anything that wasn't Brittany.
As their kiss became deeper, Santana felt herself beating heavy and wet between her legs and she reached a hand beneath the hem of Brittany's dress. The brush of Santana's fingers made Brittany's thighs jerk open like she'd been shocked. That made Santana crazy and she moaned into their kiss, climbing her hands higher until it bumped against the outside of Brittany's underwear.
Brittany backed her lips out of their kiss and tilted her head up, closing her eyes as Santana's fingers began to press harder up against the damp, warm material. Santana put her open mouth on Brittany's neck and sucked at the skin under her lips, edging two fingers up and down so that the material dragged across Brittany's folds. Somewhere above her head, Santana heard Brittany moan softly. Santana took another patch of Brittany's soft skin into her mouth.
Giving Brittany hickys had turned into a mild obsession for Santana. Days afterwards she'd ride high on some unfathomable satisfaction whenever she caught sight of them . It was like proof that what they'd done had left some sort of mark- Santana was sometimes so drunk when she did them that Brittany had to remind her who they'd come from the next day.
"You," she'd say. As though it was the only possibility. Santana liked that thought more than she let herself realise.
And plus, it was always funny when Brittany was questioned about them at school. She hooked up with so many people that no one ever thought twice when Brittany just shrugged off their questions.
"Oh, just some guy," She'd say, casting a loaded smile in Santana's general direction.
Santana was so engrossed in the taste of Brittany that it took her a beat to register the fact that Brittany had gone oddly stiff against her. At first, Santana thought that Brittany had accidentally gone over the edge like she sometimes did when she was this drunk. Santana pulled away from Brittany's neck, a smug smile already twisting her lips, and looked up into her face.
"Uh...I was just...I'm sorry I was just looking for a basin…"
Santana stiffened in shock the moment she heard the voice come from over her shoulder. Brittany's face before her was stone.
Clumsily, Santana stumbled back from Brittany and turned around.
She blinked at the face before her, wondering if she was drunk enough to hallucinated They couldn't have looked at one another for longer than 3 seconds, but the moment seemed to elongate in Santana's panic.
Then the sliding door was edging shut and Santana and Brittany were left alone, listening to the sound of Rachel Berry closing the other toilet door and her foot steps trail down the hall way.
Santana couldn't look at Brittany- she didn't want to see how swollen her lips were, or the fresh bloom of the hickys on her neck. She didn't want to see how obvious it had been to Rachel.
She left Brittany behind and shoved the sliding door open, then that other door- until she was alone in the hallway, breathing hard. Using her hand against the wall to keep her steady, Santana made her way down stairs and headed towards the one person that could fix this all for her.
She found Quinn sitting on one of the windowsills, nursing a coke and looking disinterestedly at a bunch of football guys playing beer pong. Santana stopped in front of her and Quinn looked up.
"Where'd you go?" She asked flatly.
"Huh? Oh, bathroom. Listen, do you realise that that chick that's in glee club with Finn is here?"
Signs of life flickered across Quinn's face- her aloofness creaking under the weight of her annoyance.
"Rachel Berry?" She said the name slowly, stewing it in her mouth. Her face twisted in disgust. "Who the hell invited her?"
"I don't know but I saw her on my way to the bathrooms," Santana lied. "Finn maybe?"
Quinn shot her a withering look.
"Don't be so stupid," she snapped, putting her cup down and standing up.
Santana followed her as they wound their way through Finn's house, searching all the crowded areas for signs of Rachel Berry.
They found her in the place they checked last- the living room- standing against a wall behind a couch with her hands behind her back. A sheepish, mesmerised smile lit her face as she watched the group of people in front of her dancing stupidly to the song that was playing. Santana followed the direction of Rachel's gaze and saw Finn, tall and gangly, sticking up out of the middle of the group. He was laughing as he took a long gulp from his drink and Puck slapped his back, urging him to swallow it all.
Santana flicked her eyes to Quinn. The look on her face told Santana she'd seen it all too.
They approached Rachel in unison and then Quinn stepped forward- right into Rachel's face.
"Are you lost?" She called, raising her voice over the music.
Rachel blinked into Quinn's face. "No. No I was invited...I…"
"You must be lost," Quinn said, stepping back to point towards the door. "Leave."
With Quinn no longer blocking her vision, Rachel spotted Santana. Their eyes met in a look that echoed with everything that had just happened. And Santana could see what Rachel had seen- the rolling press of Santana's body against Brittany's, Brittany's hands mingled with Santana's hair, her head back. Moaning. And then Santana's face- turning, dishevelled and still half tinged with arousal, to stare at Rachel.
Santana pushed the feeling of guilt to the back of her throat.
"You heard Quinn," she snarled. "Leave."
Rachel, her eyes still on Santana, opened her mouth to speak. Santana felt the room warp momentarily as the choice hanging heavily over Rachel's features.
And then, Santana didn't know what had happened except that Rachel pressed her lips together and bowed her head, edging past them and walking out of the living room towards where Finn's front door was.
"One...two...three...twist and… No! Hold on. No, no. "
Shelby pushed herself off the piano she was leaning against and strode over to where Mercedes and Sugar had just untangled themselves from one another.
"Girls, the tango is…" She wrung her hands and shook her head at the ceiling as she searched for the words. "There- there should be a whole undercurrent of things said in the way you and your partners bodies move together. It's one of the most sexually charged dances that exists."
"Apart from popping and locking," Sugar pointed out.
"Any-anyway," Shelby faltered. "Anyway Mercedes, you need to put a bit more attitude into it. And really," She turned and began to stroll through the paired up Cheerios. "Take me seriously here- I want you all to look at your partners, and picture someone who really gets under your skin. Who really," She rolled her eyes to the ceiling again and twirled her hands around her temples, "who really undoes your thoughts and sticks themselves smack bang in the middle. I want you to do the same thing to your audience with this move- I want them to be excited and wary at the same time. You're showing them your sexual appeal, but also show them your control over it. How you can cast it under their noses and whip it back just as quickly."
"Awesome," Sugar breathed, her eyes alight. Shelby turned on her heel and approached the front of the choir room, flicking her fingers over to where Brittany and Santana stood.
"Demonstration," she called, using the remote she'd left on the top of the piano to restart the music.
It took a beat for Santana to realise what Shelby had just asked of her. When she caught on she darted a look at Brittany.
She was already facing her, holding out her arms, and expectant smile on her lips. Swallowing her hesitance, Santana stepped up and positioned her body close to Brittany's. She could feel everyone's eyes on them. She could feel Brittany's eyes on her.
Carefully, Santana placed her hand on Brittany's waist and the other in Brittany's waiting palm. As soon as she had a hold of it, Brittany threaded her arm around Santana's lower back and tugged her efficiently closer.
Santana fixed her eyes on Brittany's lips which were mouthing them a count down. "Three….two…"
At the 'one', Brittany stepped back and plunged them both into the beat of the music.
Britt was the kind of dancer that made anyone dancing beside her look like they were wandering around roofied up to their eyeballs. But if you were her partner, if you had her palm guiding your hips and her thigh sliding between yours - the flex of her body keeping you in time- you looked like you were at your best.
Sure, Santana could move and follow a rhythm and not look like she was constipated like Finn. But it wasn't in the same realm as what Brittany led her into.
They strutted backwards, and Brittany lashed herself back across Santana's arm- dipping down then curving back up against Santana's body. They pivoted around and then the room tipped as Brittany maneuvered Santana's body expertly across her own arm so that she dipped and curved too. They swept once more together and Brittany was all sway and heat against Santana's body. They were both breathing hard. Their eyes locked to one another.
Brittany steered Santana back around, and they strutted through the movements again- the swelter, the curl, the dip and the pull back up until the music faded out and they were left up against one another, panting into one another's faces.
Clapping sounded- the rest of the world breaking through- and Santana dropped away from Brittany, trying a casual laugh and a roll of her eyes. She tried to ignore Brittany's expression- which was wide open with want. Shelby stepped forwards, still clapping.
"That was a tango. Take note."
"That was lesbian foreplay," someone shot back.
Santana blanched and wheeled around to the direction of the voice. Everyone else had turned as well to face a Cheerio behind Sugar who stood with her arms folded and her lips pursed uncomfortably.
"I don't mean to be rude, but no amount of imagination will get me to do that," she nodded towards Santana and Brittany, "with another chick. Even Bradley Cooper isn't hot enough to beat away the homo in that dance."
Sugar tossed her hair and turned away from the girl.
"Right? People mag totally should have picked Jason Momoa."
Mercedes put a hand on Sugar's arm and rounded on the girl who'd spoken first.
"Did those words seriously just leave your mouth?"
The girl narrowed her eyes. "You heard them didn't you? Saw my lips move?"
Santana took a step forwards in anger, gauging how hard to punch the girl in the face when someone moved past her, sending her slightly off balance.
"Do you know how much trouble you could get in for saying what you just said?" The girl had to look up, Brittany was a head taller than her. She shrunk away, frowning.
"It's my personal opinion so I won't get in-"
"Yes, you have the right to say how you feel- but that is not something that can override everyone else's right to feel comfortable and safe in their learning environment." Brittany shrugged, her tone even. "It's bullying and it's not cool."
The girl stared at Brittany for a beat and then rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
"Alright," Brittany nodded and turned to walk back to Santana. Her lips were pressed together- efficient, business-like. Santana twitched the corner of her mouth a in smile as Brittany came to stand beside her.
"President Pierce everybody," Mercedes laughed, flicking her hand at the Cheerio and facing Shelby again. "Shall we go again?"
Shelby started, drawing her eyes away from the open space they'd been focused on.
"Y-yes. From the top girls."
After practice, Brittany had to head to the library to print off stuff for her first meeting with Principal Figgins as Senior Class President. Santana wandering down the hallway on her own towards her car, her thoughts secured firmly on a shower and food. Any food so long as she could eat it while laying half comatose on her couch watching Friends. She'd TiVo-ed enough of it to hold a marathon and even the thought of relaxing made her limbs floppy and useless.
She decided to completely win at life and leave all her homework in her locker over night- which meant she could take the quick route to her car. Which meant walking past the New Directions choir room. As she approached the door she saw that it was open but she couldn't hear any signs of rehearsing. She peaked her head around the door frame. The room was empty except for Mr Schue and Rachel standing together beside the piano. Mr Schue was flicking through a thick pile of papers.
"Uh. Thanks for all this Rachel, we'll definitely think about a-a…"
"Medley from the 1988 season of Broadway."
"...yeah."
"Right, thanks Mr Schue." Rachel swung her bag higher on her shoulder and headed towards the door. Santana stepped back into the hallway as she approached. When Rachel rounded the corner and caught sight of her, she smiled briskly.
"Hi Santana. You're in no luck if you want to spy, practise finished half an hour ago."
"I thought you weren't allowed in glee club till after Sectionals?" Santana narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Oh, heavens no. I just sit outside in the corridor everyday."
"Right…" Santana raised her eyebrows.
"Are you walking to the car park?"
Too tired to think up a lie, Santana nodded.
"Good," Rachel said,"we can walk together."
"Uh…" Rachel turned briskly and began off down the hall. Santana rolled her eyes and after a pause she lengthened her step for a stride or two to catch up with her.
"Where's Brittany?" Rachel asked as they passed one of her old campaign posters.
"Doing President stuff."
"You know, I never could imagine Brittany being...erm… well… organised enoughto be a successful leader," Rachel cocked her head. "But the more I think about it the more I see that while the vote was determined by such things as the desire to see Brittany topless and the sugar euphoria created by all that fizzing candy she was giving away- I can actually see why she will do well. She won't get corrupted by all that power, you know? I mean, with Kurt and I...we…"
"Became mildly unhinged? Yep, everyone already got that, good to know you've caught up though."
Santana glanced sideways at Rachel, expecting her to bristle. Instead, Rachel chuckled.
"Well, yes. Yes you could phrase it like that."
They reached the double doors that lead out into the car park. Around them the afternoon was bleak and cold. Santana hunched over herself as the breeze bit her bare arms. She noticed Rachel pause at the top step leading down into the car park.
"Hey, how…" she faltered, "how's everything been? With your...grandmother?"
"Shit," Santana said frankly. Rachel pulled her mouth sideways in concern.
"That's unfortunate. I'm sorry it's not going well. Do you, do you need to talk about it?"
Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I don't know… I'm scared you'll spontaneously combust if you pay attention to anything but yourself for too longer period of time."
Rachel raised her eyes upward in mock contemplation, "Hmmm, I think I can manage one conversation."
Santana fought off laughter and wondered when exactly Rachel had become bearable.
"Well, thanks for the offer but surprisingly that topic is right up there on my list of things I don't want to discuss."
"Mmm," Rachel nodded solemnly. "Very understandable."
There was a pause and Rachel hugged her cardigan closer around herself as another chill swept around them.
Santana ran her tongue over her lips and took a breath.
"Hey, Rachel."
"Mhmm?"
Santana trailed her eyes across the stair below them, looking for the words.
"I just… I guess I wanted to thank you for being good about this whole mess."
Rachel blinked rapidly, frowning.
"Yes, don't worry," Santana assured her, seeing her confusion. "I can't quite believe those words came out of my mouth either. And yes, they did taste mildly like dirt. But I haven't forgotten...Well, I know you've had the opportunity for a long time to mess things up and you haven't. So...thanks."
Rachel opened her mouth in surprise. "Your-your welcome Santana. Hey, you know, I've been to several gay pride events with my Dads- the most memorable being the 1996 one where I got to sit on a float dressed as a rainbow. I consider it my first experience as a performer and so obviously I included it in my NYADA application. But, anyway, my point is that I think it'd be useful for you to attend one of them. You could, you know, meet people who can give you great advice about your grand..."
Santana held up her hand. "And that," she interrupted, "that right there is why I've instated a restriction on the amount of sentences we're allowed to say to one another." She started off down the stairs, leaving Rachel behind at the top.
"I'll see you round!" Rachel called. "Good luck tomorrow at Sectionals!"
"Hope you've got a good seat!" Santana called back, waving a hand back over her shoulder.
"Hold on to sixteen as long as you can"
Brittany had just turned sixteen when she decided to bloom.
Santana knew that it was a stupid way to describe it- and it sort of made her cringe when she thought of it- but that didn't stop it from being somehow appropriate.
She shaded her eyes from the sun to watch Brittany pick her way across her back yard to the trampoline where Santana lay. She was frowning down in concentration to prevent spillage from either glass of juice she was carrying. She wore thigh-high jean shorts and a loose t-shirt that had been knotted against her lower back so it hitched up near her bellybutton- attempting, like Santana was, to coax some form of breeze from the hot, still day.
Ever since they'd known one another, Brittany had had curved hips and long legs. But today Santana caught a change- one she couldn't place properly. There was something about the sway of Brittany's hips. Something about the long patch of inner thigh that showed each time she brought a leg forward.
Maybe it was just the tilt of the sun across Santana's face, making everything look more beautiful, but Brittany did look like she was in bloom.
Handing the drinks to Santana, Brittany vaulted easily onto the tramp and lay back down on her towel, accepting the glass that Santana passed back to her.
"Thanks for these," Santana said, taking a sip, watching Brittany's freckled cheeks stretch as she grinned.
"No promblemo Jose."
"Jose? Is that the same Jose from 'No Way Jose'?"
Brittany nodded knowingly. "Ya-huh." Santana shook her head and looked away, chuckling.
"Alrighty...Where was I?" Brittany picked up the exersize book beside her and angled it above her face to block out the sun.
"Umm, I think number 32," Santana said, catching her straw in her mouth.
"Thirty two...thirty two...ah yep, you're right. Okay. Question thirty two: Would you rather be the sticky side of the Velcro or the fluffy side?"
Santana considered. She was getting used to the weirder questions on Brittany's list. It had been composed the night before at 1 a.m. because Brittany couldn't sleep.
'50 questions for Santana Lopez'- she'd showed her the title page proudly when Santana had arrived at her place to hang out for the day. Santana had scoffed at it, but when she found herself in the sun on the trampoline with Brittany reading the questions, she felt special. She felt special because Brittany was the most special person that Santana knew and yet here she was, wanting to know all Santana's ins and out. Caring whether Santana knelt to tie her laces or just bent down.
"Sticky," she decided with a nod. "You?"
"Fluffy," Brittany said, dropping her head sideways to smile sweetly at Santana. "We fit."
Santana took a large pull on her straw. "Mmmhmm. Next," she gurgled. Brittany turned her face back up to the book.
"Thirty three: What was the first thing you ever brought with your own money?"
"My red lava lamp," Santana said, smiling at the memory.
"Thirty four: Why are Softballs hard?"
Santana frowned across at Brittany. "I don't know? Because sports is stupid?"
"I think it's so people don't get scared to play it," Brittany said, pursing her lips to consider.
"Okay, next."
"Alright. Thirty five: Do you push elevator buttons more than once if it's taking ages?"
Santana laughed. "Yes."
"Thirty six: What's your favourite smell?"
The patch of skin just behind Brittany's ear- it was soft, and smelt like her perfume, faded into the scent of her skin.
"Fresh bread," she answered. Brittany laughed.
"What? What's yours then?" Santana asked, affronted.
"Steak," Brittany said instantly.
"Just as bad," Santana pointed out. "Next."
Brittany flicked the page.
"Thirty...seven. Narnia or Never Land?"
Santana pursed her lips and looked over at Brittany's profile. "N-never Never Land?" She guessed, holding her breath for Brittany's reaction. Brittany blinked and turned to look a her, excitement lighting her face.
"Really? Me too!" Santana smiled in relief.
"Might see you there then," she said.
"We'll both need to learn to fly though," Brittany warned her.
"I'm sure you're the right girl to figure that one out," Santana replied, turning her head back up to the sky so she wouldn't smile that soft smile straight at Brittany's face. "Next."
"Thirty eight: Daisy chains or fairy bread?"
"Fairy bread."
"Thirty nine: Ever get stuck up a tree?"
Santana laughed, shaking her head. "Nope. I was never stupid enough to climb a tree in the first place. How about you?"
"A few," Brittany said, attempting nonchalance. Santana grinned sideways at her, even though she wasn't looking.
"Number forty: Who is the best kiss you've ever had?"
Santana's grin stalled off her face. She swept her eyes away from Brittany's face before Brittany could look at her.
"I don't know," she mumbled, her eyes on the perspiration beads clinging to Brittany's juice glass that had been set beside hers on the rail of the tramp. "Probably with Puck."
"Puck? Huh. Okay. Question Forty One-"
"Who was yours?" Santana's eyes pulled themselves of their own accord back up to Brittany's face. She had lowered the exercise book and turned her head towards Santana- but her eyes were fixed on the space between their towels.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I've kissed heaps of people."
"You have," Santana agreed, waiting.
"I don't know but our kisses are pretty good."
There it was. Brittany's eyes were still fixed on the bottom of the trampoline. She reached out and traced a thumb over the black material.
"They're okay," was all Santana could answer. She watched the fan of Brittany's eyelashes until they flicked up and suddenly Santana was looking into Brittany's eyes. They were creased underneath a frown.
"Only okay?"
Santana scrambled from the truth.
"W-well, I mean. Kissing boys and kissing girls means different things so I can't really compare you and Puck or anything like that because…"
Santana's body was jerked back and forth as movement altered the tension of the springs. Santana paused her sentence to see what Brittany was doing.
She was closer now, so close that their weight caused the tramp to dip so that they rolled against one another.
"What're you…"
As Brittany reached for Santana's face, Santana caught the colour of her nails- pink and glittery. How had she not noticed before? She would have smiled at how 'Brittany' they were if Brittany's lips weren't so close to her own and if the soft sounds of her breathing hadn't captured all of Santana's attention.
Santana suspected it wasn't healthy to feel winded by a kiss. And it wasn't healthy to feel close to passing out as Brittany slipped her tongue into Santana's mouth- curling deeply inside it.
It was the sun, Santana tried to reason. She must have gotten too much sun.
Yet that didn't explain the way her thighs seemed to part automatically as Brittany's weight shifted harder against her. It didn't explain why her heart had entered the 100 meter sprint and hurdle.
Brittany pulled out of the hot middle of their kiss- right when Santana's whole body was bent upwards off the tramp against her own. Santana's eyes flew open and caught Brittany's smile. Knowing. Smug.
"Was that your final answer?" She asked.
There was silence when Quinn left the bathroom. Brittany was squeezing Santana's hand still, looking down at the tiles between her feet. Santana took in the side of her face- the furrowed eyebrows, the pout of her lips- the soft blond wisps of hair that weren't long enough to be pulled back by her ponytail- so they curled around her ears.
"I miss Quinn," Britt said softly, to no one in particular. "I miss how she smiles when she sings and it's not like her other smiles. And I miss Puck's shoulder shimmy and Rachel's bedazzled pen with the light up star that she sometimes uses to write out the lyrics on my hand before shows."
Santana lent her face closer to Brittany's, checking in alarm to see if she was crying.
"Huh, yeah," Mercedes chuckled. Santana looked up from Brittany towards her. "I miss those things too. And Kurt's ability to find an appropriate Anna Wintour quote for any situation."
"Or how when Rory talks he sounds like he's speaking underwater," Brittany added, her lips twitching in a smile.
"And Artie's serial killer jerseys," Santana added, feeling a smile squirm onto her face.
Brittany looked up at her, beaming.
"Yeah," she said softly, her eyes darting around Santana's face. "Those too."
Mercedes huffed a sigh and pushed away from the basin, turning back to face Brittany, Santana and Sugar.
"Quinn had a point," she said. "And frankly, I'm over all the fighting and fussing. I want my family back. I want to stop being all Rihanna and Chris and be more…"
"Ice-T and Coco?" Sugar suggested. Mercedes and Brittany chuckled while Santana, fighting her own laughter, rolled her eyes.
"What I mean to say," Mercedes continued, "is that I don't mind the sound of their offer. I think I want to go back. But… I won't join without you guys."
"I want to go back too," Brittany admitted, looking at Santana.
"I'm in as well," said Sugar.
"Santana?" Mercedes was looking at her hesitantly. Brittany was squeezing her hand.
Santana rolled her eyes in feigned annoyance.
"Alright, alright." She let go of Brittany's hand and spun to the mirror, checking her lip gloss.
"Let's go bring sexy back."
Brittany was on the other side of the New Directions huddle to Santana, but her laughing face stood out the most. Her smile was the brightest and it was aimed at Santana.
"I haven't been this moved since I watched part one of the Oprah! A Farewell Spectacular online," Kurt was gushing, fanning his hands theatrically under his eyes.
"If we can perform like we just did now, we're going to kick-ass at Regionals!" Tina exclaimed.
"Woo! Yeah! Kick ass!" Finn whooped, pumping a fist in the air which only just missed Rachel's face.
From beside Santana, Mercedes clapped her hands.
"This," she announced, "feels like home."
Santana grinned and watched Mercedes pass her head-light smile over all of their faces. She saw it fall and falter on Sam.
And that was when Santana remembered.
Unthreading her arms from around Finn and Mercedes, Santana pushed her way across the fragmenting huddle. She stopped in front of Brittany.
"You were right." She said. Brittany stopped what she was saying to Mike and turned to her.
"Right about what?" She asked, her confusion crinkling her forehead.
Santana was moved. It could have been the reunion and the song and the fact that all her feelings were crazy and treating the inside of her chest like the walls of a padded cell. But she had to stop for a moment and take in Brittany's face. Brittany waited, trying several different expressions to see which one would match Santana's mood. She settled for a small smile.
"The bet," Santana said finally, shrugging. She stepped closer and took both Brittany's hands in her own. "And, well, just everything really," she added.
And then, in front of everyone, Santana paid her debt- closing her eyes and sinking into the feel of Brittany's lips against her own.
Home.