Note:
Hello! This is me filling in the (Brittana) blanks for season 3 episode 9- the Christmas ep!
Another chapter for you guys! Enjoy!
(Sorry if there are mistakes, its very early in the morning!)
Reviews are spectacular. Everyone who reads this is spectacular and have a lovely day!
Ch 17: Better Than the One Before
"She's trying to kill us," Santana muttered, blowing air into her cupped hands to try to bring the tip of her nose back from the dead. Brittany, snug in her mittens and snow hat with ear flaps, glanced over at her.
"You shouldn't have dressed like it's the middle of summer then," she said, gesturing to Santana's thin cardigan and short dress.
"Facebook said it was a cocktail party," Santana reminded her haughtily.
"Yeah but it doesn't mean you can't cover up beforehand. Coats can be taken off you know. I mean, I know sometimes its scary when you get your head stuck in it and it's all dark but most coats have buttons so there's no danger! I can get you one for Christmas if you'd like?"
"I have coats," Santana reminded her. "But I thought I'd just be in and out of the car. Not waiting at the door and getting our...faces….chewed...off...by...frostbite." She said the last 5 words through gritted teeth, punctuating each with a bang on Quinn's door.
On the sixth knock, the door opened beneath Santana's fist and Quinn stood before them in a green cocktail dress- looking like she was already ready for senior prom.
"Hey guys...oh…" Quinn stepped aside just in time as Santana bowled past her, rubbing her hands furiously up and down her arms.
"Took your freaking time."
Quinn frowned at her, closing the door behind Brittany.
"Santana are you nuts? Where's your coat?"
"She refused to wear a coat," Brittany said, pulling off her own coat and her hat and her mittens and laying them on Quinn's outstretched arms.
"Alright, alright, I didn't bring a coat. Sue me."
"You just know for next time," Brittany said, taking hold on one of Santana's hands with both of her own- still warm from the inside of her mittens. Santana scowled to keep the smile off her face and Brittany rolled her eyes, dropping a kiss on her cheek and tugging her down the hall after Quinn.
In the lounge they found Tina, Mercedes and Rachel sitting on Quinn's posh leather sofas, all nursing wine glasses.
"Ladies!" Rachel swept of the couch over to them, clutching Brittany into a hug and planting her lips hard on her cheek. As she did so, Brittany turned her eyes towards Santana, alarmed.
"How many of those has she had?" Santana asked Quinn pointing to the wine wobbling in Rachel's hand.
"Oh, I'm not drunk Santana. I'm just happy that we're all together again," Rachel said, stepping up and holding her arms out to Santana who stiffly let herself be hugged.
"Take a seat," Quinn said, motioning to the loveseat around the other side of the snack laden coffee table.
"Looking fab as usual," Tina grinned at them as they sat down.
"Ohmygosh T, I love your necklace!" Brittany leant over the arm of the loveseat to catch the pendent on her fingers. Santana leant around Brittany to see the thing in question and drew back with pursed lips.
It was Hello Kitty with eyeliner and emo fringe.
"Can I borrow it?" Brittany was asking, her eyes alight.
"Here you are," Quinn said, approaching them with their wines glasses.
"Well ladies," Rachel said, beaming around at them. "I think this the opportune moment for a toast."
She held up her wine glass. "To reconnecting and making this Christmas the best on yet for the New Directions! Cheers!"
"Cheers," they echoed her, leaning over the table to clink their glasses together. As she swallowed, Santana leant back into the sofa- enjoying the warm wash of the heater over her skin and the tingle of bubbles down her throat. Beside her, Brittany glanced around and caught her contentment. Smiling, she squirmed back into the sofa as well, pressing her whole side up against Santana and put her hand on Santana's knee, rubbing her thumb in circles across the skin there.
"So. So. So, so, so," Rachel clapped her hands and wiggled in her seat beside Mercedes. Santana was alarmed to see that she was smiling around at them like some deranged presenter of a preschool tv show. Like Steve from Blues Clues who'd given Santana nightmares till she was seven. "Who is completely buzzing about filming the Special on Friday?"
"It's going to be epic," Mercedes agreed.
"Way better than the Wizards of Waverly place," Brittany nodded over the rim of her wine glass. "I'm not sure I trust Selena Gomez after she stole Justin Bieber's nice voice and gave him her manly one."
"I like his new voice," Tina admitted. "Ever since the guys did that Justin Bieber Experience thing I always get all flustered whenever I hear the Biebster."
"Mmm, yeah. That was super hot," Brittany agreed, leaning forwards to the bowl of grapes on the coffee table and pulling a couple off their stem. "And I remember," she chuckled through a mouthful as she settled back against Santana, "Artie wore that orange JB jumper for like two weeks afterwards. I had to tell him I wasn't going to have sex with him till he'd washed it and stopped texting me to come and fix his Justin fringe in between classes."
Everyone laughed. Santana tried her best to, but it came out more like a cough.
"Santana?" Rachel was leaning forwards to see her around Brittany. "Are you alright?"
"Uhh- yeah?" Santana frowned at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Brittany had turned to look up at her, her mouth open and her tongue curling around a grape. Santana shot her a reassuring smile.
"Hmm," Rachel settled back into her seat. "Alright. It's just that I wouldn't blame you for feeling awkward. I mean, wasn't that right around the time you persuaded Sam to break up with Quinn?" There was laughter in Rachel's voice as she said it but it faltered once she realised her miscalculation.
Stiffening, Santana followed the others in looking warily over to Quinn who, to their surprise, was engaged in covering her cracker with some cheese.
"Well we all know I had that one coming, " she said, shrugging and taking a generous bite of the cracker.
"Have you ever thought about getting back together with him?" Tina asked.
"Oooh, yes!" Rachel agreed. "I mean, now that Santana has Brittany and Mercedes has Shane there really would be nothing stopping you two from getting together."
Quinn swallowed her cracker and washed it down with a sip of wine before she answered.
"Nope, he and I aren't anything but friends. I did consider it briefly but, well, it was for the wrong reasons." She shot Santana a small, knowing smile. "It's good to have him back around though and I'm really looking forward to volunteering at the shelter with him on Friday."
"Say what now?" Mercedes snapped her head up from the snack table.
"Not this coming Friday?" Tina frowned. "That's the date of the TV Special. Remember, Artie told Coach Sue we couldn't help out with that."
"Uh-huh," Quinn nodded, chewing the rest of her cracker. "And Sam and I told Artie that our priority for this Christmas was helping people in need, not putting our ambition first."
"But...but…we'll be on live television…" Rachel stuttered, staring at Quinn like she'd never seen something more horrific.
"Well, actually...part of why I invited you guys here was to see if maybe I could persuade you to change your minds and come with us instead." Quinn looked pleadingly around at all of them. "Yeah sure, the TV Special is something that we'll remember for ages, but do you know how long the families we help will remember the fact that they got to eat a hot meal and be warm and happy on an evening where everyone else just takes those things as a given?"
"Quinn," Mercedes said gently, looking grim. "We already gave our word to the studio. And it's not like we haven't helped the poor before."
"Yeah, we raised money for them last year by carolling," Brittany pointed out.
"We raised $7 and some expired vouchers for body hair removal," Quinn snapped.
"Last I checked $7 still counted as money," Santana snapped back at her.
"Now, now girls. Lets just.. Quinn's obviously made up her mind and we have to respect that," Rachel said.
"Thanks Rachel," Quinn said, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I mean," Rachel continued, "obviously the real reason behind it is to spend more time with Sam so how about we all stop badgering her for it!"
Quinn rolled her eyes. "I can actually do things for others without expecting something in return," she said.
"Rachel's brain doesn't compute statements like that Q, watch yourself," Santana warned.
Rachel shot Santana a scowl while Quinn drained her glass of wine. "Anyone need more as much as I do?" She asked, once she'd swallowed. Everyone except Rachel held out their glasses.
"So guys, plans for Christmas?" Tina asked them after Quinn had popped a new bottle of wine and passed it around.
"Family feast and midnight mass for me," Mercedes said.
"Same," Quinn nodded.
"My Dads and I will get together for our annual Christmas eve showing of Love Actually and then on Christmas night we'll have the rest of the family over and be anxiously waiting for the announcement of the winner of the Christmas House Decoration competition that our street holds every year. My Dad actually wanted us to get a live baby for our life size recreation of the manger scene but luckily we convinced him that giving it 'a lot of blankets' wouldn't keep the child protection services away."
"That's so scary," Brittany whispered, cuddling closer into Santana.
"Guys?" Tina turned to Santana and Brittany.
"I'm going to Santa Fe! Wooo!" Brittany pumped her fists in the air.
"Ommygosh I'm so jealous," Tina exclaimed. "You're so lucky! My family isn't going anywhere since my Mom refuses to leave her new washing machine alone with the cat. What about you Santana?"
Santana started, coming away from her thoughts and back to the conversation. Brittany's excitement over her family trip had caught Santana like a jab in the ribs. It felt like some sort of betrayal- the excitement- when it meant she had to leave Santana. And Santana knew that if she admitted that to anyone but herself she'd sound like a stage five clinger.
"Uh...I...I'm not really sure yet," she mumbled.
"Are you not sure because of your abuela?" Mercedes asked in a small voice.
"Mmm." Santana took a fortifying gulp of wine and squeezed a smile onto her face, pushing away all the worry that was pressing upon her. She'd never really cared about Christmas before and she didn't see why that should change just because her abuela couldn't stomach the sight of her.
There was a pause and Santana looked into her lap, deciding to let the others exchange glances in peace.
The rest of the night was tinged with a gnawing feeling that worked it's way into the middle of Santana's chest. It hollowed out her laughter. It miss-tailored her smiles so that they didn't fit her face. It dulled the smell of Brittany's perfume, and satisfaction Santana got from all her casual touches.
When it was time to go, she felt relieved and even the cold on the way to the car was okay because it cleared her head. As they walked down Quinn's dark driveway Brittany threaded her fingers through Santana's.
"Will you stay tonight?"
"If you want."
"Course I do!"
"Okay."
They dropped hands so that Brittany could head around the passenger side of the car and Santana unlocked the doors.
Their drive home was quiet, Brittany spent her time humming to low tune of the radio and looking at all the decorated houses all lit up on the streets they passed. Santana gripped the wheel with both hands, trying not to wonder why Brittany hadn't tried at all to make her feel better. Hadn't tried to fix things.
Deep down Santana knew it wasn't Brittany's job and she was okay with it until she remembered the year before- and how hard Brittany had tried to fix Artie- how she'd wished so hard on Santa to make his legs work.
Just because Santana could walk didn't mean she didn't need fixing too.
Santana was sleeping and then suddenly she wasn't and her bedroom was filled with Usher singing OMG. She sat up, blinking away the sleepy blur from her eyes and looking for the source of the music. She looked past Brittany who was only a ball under the blankets beside her with her blond hair covering one of Santana's pillows like an explosion. On the bedside table beside her, her phone was lit up, flashing and ringing and vibrating- the whole works.
"Britt," Santana shook her. "Britt, your alarms going or something. Get it."
"Whuuu?" Brittany lifted her head and looked at Santana through squinted eyes. "Is that my…" She looked at the table and saw her phone, unfurling her arm out from the blankets and reaching for it.
Already anticipating the noise stopping, Santana flopped back onto her pillows and closed her eyes. Who forgot to turn off their alarm on a Saturday morning? After the late night she and Britt had had, Santana was far from done sleeping.
The noise cut off but Brittany's voice sounded in its absence.
"Hey babe!"
Santana's eyes flew open and she looked over to see Brittany curled back on the bed on her back, smiling at the ceiling with her phone pressed to her ear. Santana could hear the miniscule tones of a voice on the end. She narrowed her eyes as Brittany laughed at something it said.
"Aw I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you'd be over. I'm at Santana's place."
Santana felt her chest constrict as she realised who it was.
"What did we do? Um well last night we helped her Mom write her Christmas cards and then had a Sweet Valley High marathon ," Brittany lied smoothly.
Artie must have bought it because Brittany laughed again at his reply.
"Yes babe, I missed you. Are we going...Ye-...We are? "
Santana squeezed her eyes closed harder as the mattress bounced from Brittany's excitement.
"Yes. Yes you are the best. The best, the best. And everyone said they'd come...oh, yay!"
There was a pause.
"Okay! I'll see you there then. I-yes you too. Byeeee!"
Santana kept her eyes squeezed closed, pressed her face into her pillow and hunched her shoulders over her ears. She tried to even out her breathing so that Brittany would think she'd fallen back to sleep. But mattress rocked and then Brittany was pressing her front up against Santana's back. Neither of them had put pyjamas on throughout the night so Brittany's bare breasts were soft up against the bottom of Santana's shoulder blades.
"Sorry for waking you up." Brittany's breath made Santana's hair flutter across her ear. She shrugged her shoulder to stop it tickling.
"It's okay."
Tentatively, Brittany snaked a hand around Santana's middle.
"Well, good morning then."
"Mmm."
Brittany didn't say anything else for a moment. She just lay there- all soft and warm and up against her. Santana hated herself for enjoying it more than she should. For wanting to turn around and taste the night before on Brittany's lips.
"You still sleepy?" Brittany's voice was small, hesitant.
"Yep."
"Are you still going to be sleepy when we have to get up and go to the mall?"
Santana glanced back over her shoulder, frowning.
"Why do we have to go to the mall?"
"Because…" Brittany pulled her face back and beamed at Santana. "Artie is taking me to see Santa and everyone from glee club is coming too! We can get milkshakes and pet the elves and sit on his knee! And also it'll be super handy seeing as I won't have to post my wish list anymore because I can just tell him in person what I want most for Christmas."
"What do you want most for Christmas?"
Brittany bit her lip and then glanced around the room as though checking to see if someone was listening.
"You know I can't tell you otherwise it won't come true," she whispered.
Santana shifted around to look at her, frowning. "You can tell people, otherwise you wouldn't be able to tell Santa would you?"
Brittany's face lit up again. Screw you, Artie, Santana thought. She'd been keeping up this Santa ruse for way longer than he had.
"Okay, but...just in case…" Brittany wiggled closer so that she was draped across Santana, putting her chin on her shoulder. "This year, I'm gonna ask Santa for…" She paused dramatically, grinning. Santana raised her eyebrows.
"Artie to walk again!"
Santana blinked and looked away.
"Oh…"
"Yeah. I figured since he's always so nice to me and he helped me with his magic comb and stuff that I'd repay the favour. And I haven't done anything bad this year so Santa is bound to let me get what I want, right?"
"That's how it's supposed to work." Santana shifted out from underneath Brittany and leant over to check her own phone. No messages. Figures. She couldn't believe that Puck was still digging being pinned and smothered by Zizes. She flopped back on the bed and sighed.
Brittany reached for her again.
"What are you doing?" Santana snapped, looking at her.
Brittany looked hurt and she leant away. "Sorry I was just hoping for some sweet lady kisses before we get up."
"Not now. I'm tired. You go get ready."
Brittany's cheeks flushed.
"Are you not coming to see Santa? Don't you have your Christmas list sorted to tell him yet?"
"I dunno. I can't really be bothered."
"Please San. Please come." Brittany made a sad face. "It won't be as magic without you there."
Santana's eyes drifted up to Brittany's, feeling too many things all at once.
"Alright. Fine."
"Yay!" Brittany bounced up on the bed and reached for her phone again. "I'll call Artie and tell him that we'll be ready soon."
Santana vaulted off her bed and hooked a towel off her chair. She wrapped it quickly around herself and headed for the door- getting away from the sound of Brittany calling him.
But it carried.
"Hey babe! Just calling to say you're wonderful aaandd Santana and I will…"
Santana slammed the bathroom door closed to block out the rest of the sentence.
Someone knew her name and was shaking her- jerking her shoulder back and forth so that her thoughts scattered and she couldn't get a proper purchase on the situation that had just gone by. Wasn't she in the bathroom? Why was she still in bed….Brittany was on the phone with Artie.
"San. San...Pssst...Santana…" It was a sing-song voice- Brittany's- turning her name into a tune.
Santana wanted the shaking to stop so she mumbled, "Yeah. Yep. What?"
"You awake?"
Santana drew a hand over her face and opened her eyes. Her sight wavered around the room.
"Yeah."
She and Brittany were intertwined- their legs all caught up with one another. One of Brittany's legs was hooked up over Santana's hips. She was wiggling the toes of her foot against the back of Santana's own foot.
And then Brittany's face- still fuzzy from sleep- was peering over at her.
"You were muttering and it woke me up and I thought you were saying stuff to me so I asked you what you meant but you ignored me."
"I was asleep till just now, sorry." Santana's chest shuddered in a yawn.
"Were you dreaming?" Brittany was looking at her inquisitively, tucking her sleep tangled hair behind her ears.
It had been less dreaming and more remembering in HD but Santana nodded. Brittany laid her hands flat on Santana's chest and rested her chin on them, looking expectantly up at her.
"What happened?"
"Just dreamt about this time last year."
Brittany frowned. "Anything different happen?"
Santana shook her head. "Nope, you were still dating Artie and obsessing over Santa getting him to walk."
Brittany pouted at the memory.
"All that hard work and they only worked for a day."
"Mmm. Waste of time." Santana wiggled out from underneath Brittany's leg. The loss of contact made Brittany pout and she squirmed closer- putting her head beside Santana's on the empty space of her pillow.
"You sound mad," she said, her eyes flitting all over Santana's face.
"Well it's never pleasant being reminded of how loved up you were with him this time last year." Santana hadn't meant for her voice to be so stiffened by resentment- but it was and it made Brittany jerk her head back in surprise.
"Are you mad about that?"
Santana was, but like most things she felt these days, it would have made her sound crazy if she admitted it.
"Just bummed." She shrugged.
Brittany's face pulled into a frown.
"But how come? So much has changed since then."
Santana frowned back.
"Has it?"
"Uh-yeah. Santana are you serious?" Brittany's frown had turned into a look of incredulity.
Like always, Santana's anger ignited with little warning and flared through her until she felt her face harden and it was using speaking for her.
"Go on, tell me how it's so different."
Brittany blinked, noticing the change in her ton. "Um...um well...For starters…" Santana's abruptness had made her flustered. "Well, there's the fact that Osama Bin Laden is dead. And...and I'm your girlfriend now, not Artie's. And this year I know that Santa isn't real. And I'm going to Santa Fe instead of staying here."
Everything Brittany had said was true- but Santana didn't let herself be swayed. She huffed a sigh and rolled onto her back- staring at the ceiling.
"Don't tell me you're not mad because you'll be lying if you do," Brittany said.
Annoyance was pounding in Santana's head- drowning out any what little self-censoring ability she had. She spoke to the ceiling, because it was easier and she did nothing to take the bitterness from her voice.
"I just think it's a little hilarious that you say so much has changed when you still act with as little regard to how I feel as you did last year."
"What? Where did...Why would you say that?" Brittany's voice broke like a teenage boy's in her panic.
Santana's eyes were boring into the ceiling.
"Because that's what I feel."
Brittany's body was tense beside her- taunt with confusion and hurt.
"How could you say I don't care about how you feel though? How many times will I have to keep on proving to you that I do?"
"It's just funny how last year you went nuts over Artie not being able to walk which has sort've been the deal for most of his life but this year, when you're with me, your main concern is your playlist for the drive to Santa Fe."
"What's wrong with that?"
Santana gritted her teeth trying to bear the brunt of her anger. But her next words flew out of her mouth- as violently as if she had just physically lashed out.
"I may have the full use of my limbs but that doesn't mean my life is all fucking fine and dandy. Is it too much to ask for some consideration about how completely shit this Christmas is going to be for me?"
"But...you don't tell me how you feel…" Santana heard Brittany's voice quaking with tears.
"I shouldn't have to."
"Santana!" Brittany's voice broke in a plea but Santana ignored it and notched her chin higher as the mattress jostled from movements she wasn't able to see. "Santana," Brittany repeated, "can you look at me please?"
Santana turned her head to Brittany- her jaw clenched in her effort to ignore the pink of Brittany's cheeks and her lips- bunched and quaking against the sweep of tears. She was kneeling on the bed, looking at Santana.
"Yes, you should have to tell me. It's not fair to get mad at me for not knowing how you feel when you don't tell me."
"Oh, so, I can't expect you to take the fact that you're going away and the fact that my family's plans for Christmas revolve around going to a place where I'm less welcome than Lucifer and then maybe join the two together to come up with even a vague estimation about how freaking pumped I am for this Christmas? "
They were both sitting up now. Brittany didn't say anything in reply. She just looked at Santana, her features wavering in tears.
"Guess I am asking too much," Santana spat.
"I did- I mean- I do know that it's going to be hard for you. But I was just trying... I was just trying to distract you," Brittany had to pause halfway through as she began to cry.
Santana rolled her eyes ruthlessly. "Honestly? Distracting me? How? By wanking on and on and on about how great Santa Fe is going to be? How much fucking fun it's going to be without me? Oh well done, Britt. You have frigging out done yourself this year."
As Brittany began to cry harder, Santana shot up off the bed, and strode across the room, her whole body tingling in fury. She wanted to punch something. She settled for slamming the bedroom door so hard that the pictures in the hallway swung on their hooks.
Santana ran the water in the shower so hot that the bathroom was filled with steam within the time it took her to get undressed. When she stepped under the stream the heat of the water took her breath away. It crawled over her skin- blotching it in angry red patches. Like most mild forms of pain it was thrilling and unpleasant all at the same time. She leant her head against the shower wall and took several shaky breaths- wondering if Brittany was still crying in her bed.
Alone in the shower, with the water pounding in her ear drums, Santana could admit that she'd been wrong. When Brittany cried it seriously felt like Santana had screamed "I don't believe in fairies" right in her face. A little bit of magic left the world.
With a sudden rise of anger, Santana slammed the bottom of her fist against the shower wall and began to cry, her face screwing up and her chest heaving in ugly sobs.
With the overwhelming heat and her uneven breathing Santana began to feel light-headed. She swayed, hovering halfway between standing and falling.
Then several things happened in quick succession.
The sound of the shower changed and became less concentrated in a single space as though the noise had been let out into the rest of the bathroom. Then Santana noticed the water cooling on her skin- soothing it's irritation. And then, someone was pressed up against her from behind- all warm and wet with their arms anchoring around her middle- holding her up.
The fullness of Brittany against her, the way that she took Santana's weight gently but firmly- it all only made Santana cry harder- mess and tears and water running down her face which she kept turned away from Brittany.
"Come here. Turn around. San…"
Santana wiped her face and took a shuddering breath through the steam, letting Brittany's coaxing hands turn her around. Brittany's hair was already matted around her face from the water- and drops were cascading down her face- running down the rivets of the sides of her nose- curving down her neck and jaw.
"Do you know what the worst thing in the world is for me?" She called over the shower- spitting water out as she spoke, her eyes fluttering open and closed as drops shot at them.
"What?" Santana called back.
Brittany swept a palm down her face and pulled her head back to that the water fell in an unhindered gush between them.
"When I find out something has hurt you. See, you have a face for me and a face for everyone else. But neither one is easy to understand and sometimes I slip up. Sometimes I only realise that you're hurting when it's too late. I'm like… I'm like a cell phone with bad reception."
Santana gave a weak laugh.
"Things arrive late to me sometimes- or with bits of the message missing. So yeah, sometimes I don't do the right thing, or say them either. And when you tell me you're okay I believe you more often than I should just because otherwise I'd go crazy wondering and being confused- Like I was before we sung Landslide- when thinking about you would give me a headache because I didn't know why I felt like you loved me but had no proof. And I can't...I just can't keep wondering so I just take your word. It's not-" Brittany stopped her rushed words and took a gasp of the steam.
"It's not that I don't care about you. Because Santana, I do. I care every second of every day. Even when I'm asleep. And I know that we don't believe in Santa anymore- but this is different so please, please believe me."
Santana nodded- scattering water droplets everywhere and then when Brittany saw she smiled so wide Santana swore the sun had broken through the ceiling.
With more force than she ought to, Brittany sprung through the stream of water and threw her arms around Santana's neck. The force made Santana lose her footing slightly on the slippery tiles and as she swayed backwards they both squealed. Luckily her back connected with the shower wall because by then Santana had Brittany's whole weight against her and her urgent, hot kiss prising open Santana's lips.
They kissed as the water beat against their faces and pooled in the cavity between their squished together chests.
When they both were in danger of choking on the water that had gathered in their mouths during the kiss, Brittany stepped back and all the collected water from their chests crashed to their feet.
They giggled into one another's faces, and then Brittany stepped forward again, hugging Santana against her more gently. Santana hooked her chin over Brittany's shoulder and enjoyed all the curves of their bodies pressed up against one another.
"I love you," Brittany called into her ear.
"I love you back," Santana replied.
"I promise that I'm going to try harder to make this Christmas better than it was last year."
Santana pressed her face into the side of Brittany's neck. Somehow, she could still smell Brittany's scent- the nuances of her perfume. It was faint, and damp, but it was there and it made Santana's chest tight with tenderness.
"It already is better."
"Kurt. If you squeal in my ear one more time while I'm driving I swear to god I will run this car off the road just to shut you up."
"I-I was just suggesting you cut down West Elm then you'll miss the crappy lights at...oh alright, alright." Refusing to continue with Santana's palm inches from his nose, Kurt's face disappeared from Santana's peripheral vision and she watched in the mirror as he settled back in his middle seat- exchanging disgruntled glances with Blaine.
Santana gripped the steering wheel more tightly .
"You already went and pissed me off with that little squee and dance you did when you realised that all the gays were riding in one car."
"I've already admitted that the dance was a mistake," Kurt declared with dignity.
"Uh, and also I'm not gay," Rory piped up from his seat behind Santana.
Britt twisted around in the passenger seat to grin at him.
"If you were this would be a great time to say so. It's like…" she passed her eyes around Santana, Blaine and Kurt, " a gay prayer circle. Or a big, big gay confession booth and we're all your priests."
"Your gay priests," Kurt added, nodding enthusiastically.
Santana rolled her eyes and then eyed Rory in the rear-vision mirror. "I promise we're not all this ...gay…" She assured him.
He smiled politely back at her.
"No-no, I know. Me cousin is gay an back 'ome he's the captn' of my town's rugby team."
Brittany turned around at him, her eyes round. "Oh, no. Okay, none of us are that gay."
It was lucky that they were so close the Shelter- because Santana was laughing so hard she could barely keep the car on the road.
She, Rory, Kurt and Blaine were all still breaking up into random bouts of laughter as they walked to meet the rest of the glee clubbers who had already arrived and were standing waiting under the light of a street-lamp outside the Shelter. Brittany was swinging on Santana's left hand, humming to herself.
"You guys got the gravy? We think we forgot the gravy!" Finn called as they approached.
"Don't worry, us gays got the gravy covered!" Kurt called back. It was enough to send them all into fits of laughter again. The others just stood their frowning at them until Puck's face lit up.
"Rory's gay!" He asked excitedly, whirling around to face Mike. "Cough up bud, I win!"
"He's not gay," Brittany said. "But his cousin is."
It was the best Santana had felt in a long time- she was so surprised at how, even though Brittany was leaving in the morning and Christmas Lopez family show down was only a couple of days away, Santana's spirits had lifted.
She knew it had to do with the fact that the glee club had been spending all their free time together rehearsing in the lead up to the Christmas Special. And for some reason it meant that Santana was always either focusing entirely on her performance or laughing so hard she strained her stomach muscles. She wasn't sure whether Brittany's way of making this Christmas better than the last had meant sneaking sedatives into Santana's lip-gloss tube- but Santana was enjoying her time with everyone in the glee club far, far more than what was normal for her.
It probably also had something to do with the fact that she and Brittany had spent their nights making up for all the time they'd lose while Britt was in Santa Fe. Their escapades left Santana so elated and spent that sleep came easily and heavily.
And even if the nerves and the fear did occasionally creep up on her in the middle of the night, Brittany always seem to shift closer before Santana could even open her eyes. And there would be soft lips on her cheeks and nose and eyelashes, and silky blond hair draped across her neck and shoulders and Brittany nuzzled her face into Santana and whispered a sleepy jumble of words that soothed her back to sleep.
"Come on babe," Brittany jerked her hand and Santana started out of her day-dreaming. She was alarmed to see that the others were already three quarters of the way filed through the doors of the homeless shelter.
They jogged to catch up and join the line.
The three things that got Santana most about the evening was how crowded the Shelter was and then how all the faces looked so...normal. These kids and their parents...or whoever adult cared enough to stick around them… looked just like normal people- ones you'd pass in the street and not even notice. And the third thing? Mikey.
Santana had never been a kid person. She tolerated her little cousins on family gatherings but only the ones old enough to be able to hold a semi-intelligent conversation.
Babies made her nervous and she prided herself on the fact that she'd never changed a diaper in her life.
Mikey was six- so he ticked the semi-intelligent conversation box. He'd beckoned her over to his little plastic table and chairs and asked if she'd cut up his turkey. He said his Mom had told him he couldn't eat with his hands in front of people. When she asked where his Mom was he'd just shrugged and handed her his knife and fork.
Figuring the little plastic chairs wouldn't hold her weight, Santana sat against the wall beside Mikey and debated with him about which fairy tale the picture on the back of the spare plastic chair was from. Mikey was convinced that it was Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle but Santana was sure that the little boy in the picture looked too much like Mikey to be Peter Pan and so it must be Prince Mikey and his pretty Princess that had wings and magic fairy dust.
"Prince Mikey?" He'd asked, his mouth- full of half chewed carrot and turkey- falling open in awe. "There isn't a fairy tale with a Prince Mikey in it."
"Uh-huh, there is," Santana insisted. Mikey looked sceptically at her.
"I've never heard of it."
"Well, I have," she tweaked his nose. "And I'm a lot older than you which means I've heard all the fairy tales that are around and there is definitely one about Prince Mikey and his fairy princess. It's a freaking good one too," Santana said knowingly.
"What's his Princesses name?" Mikey asked, the awe creeping back onto his face. He kept on forgetting to chew.
"Uh-Prince...Princess…" Santana studied the picture of Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle. It wasn't the Disney illustrations- but you could tell who they were. The artist had given Tinkerbelle her trademark blonde hair and her bright blue eyes.
"Brittany," She said. "Princess Brittany."
"Brittany…" Mikey said, chewing thoughtfully. "And, she's pretty right?" He looked over at Santana to double check.
"Oh, hell yea- I mean, yeah. Yeah, she's the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom."
"Good." Mikey said, seeming satisfied. He awkwardly collected another mouthful of his dinner onto his fork and Santana took the opportunity to glance around the room at the others. Mike and Rachel had kids swarming all around them as they performed a dramatic rendition of a story that Kurt was reading aloud. Finn, Rory, Mercedes and Tina were mooching around the tables, refilling glasses and removing empty plates. Blaine, Artie and Puck were over with Sue, Quinn and Sam, helping in the serving line. And...Santana paused, drawing her eyes back across the room looking for Brittany.
She finally spotted her in the serving line too- but not near the other glee clubbers where Santana had first looked. She was further up the table- right near the edge closest to Santana.
And she wasn't serving- her arm holding the big serving spoon was hanging limply in the air as she gazed over at Santana and Mikey. Santana had never seen the look on her face before, but it reminded her a bit of the look Mikey got when Santana told him about Prince Mikey. Awe.
Santana stared back at Brittany, not wanting to lose the moment. Then she leant over and nudged Mikey.
"See that girl standing up there at the table? With the white hat and the blond hair?"
Mikey looked and nodded. "Yeah."
"Her name's Brittany too."
Mikey turned back to Santana, his eyes wide. "Is she a Princess too?" He whispered.
Santana's eyes were on Brittany over his head, watching the smile grow on her face as she listened to them.
"Uh-huh. She is."
Mikey turned back to stare at Brittany and when she caught his eye and smiled he went bright red and turned away.
Santana laughed. "Don't worry. Pretty Princesses make the best of us shy," She assured him. "Do you want to meet her?"
Chancing another glance at Brittany and seeing that she was still smiling at him, he looked away and shook his head.
"She's too pretty," he mumbled.
"Mm, but, do you know what else she is?"
"What?"
"The nicest Princess I know."
"How many do you know?"
"Oh," Santana waved a hand. "Once you get to my age you've met them all. Here's a word of wisdom- Stay away from Snow White. She's secretly mean."
Mikey gapped at her until she directed his gaze down to his plate which was empty.
"You want more Turkey? Go ask Princess Brittany. Go on." She nudged him up with her elbow.
Slowly, Mikey got to his feet and took his plate in both hands- edging up to Brittany cautiously- as though she might fly away at too sudden a movement.
Santana sat back and watched their interaction- beaming stupidly. Her chest constricted when Mikey turned and pointed to Santana and Brittany smiled up at her, nodding as she replied to him.
Santana decided in the car on the way home that she'd probably learnt more in the few hours they'd spent in the homeless shelter than she had in the whole year of school so far. It had been a perfect night- and no one had really felt like a stranger. It had been one of the best nights she'd had in a long time.
But once they'd dropped Blaine and Kurt and Rory off at Kurt and Finn's place and were driving through the dark streets to Brittany's- Santana felt the reality of tomorrow hit her.
Brittany gripped her hand the whole way home- like she felt it too. So when they pulled up at the end of Britt's driveway and Santana had cut the engine, she turned, expecting to see a grim mirror of her own expression on Brittany's face.
Britt's features was golden the light of the street lamp that hovered somewhere above them. She was beaming.
Confused, Santana smiled reluctantly back. "Only one more sleep till Santa Fe," she said the obvious.
Still beaming, Brittany nodded.
"Will you wait in the car while I run and get something?" She asked.
The fake smile dropped off Santana's face.
A present.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why for the love of God had she assumed that they'd exchange gifts after Brittany got back? She hadn't even started looking for one yet- she'd been planning to distract herself with the task while Britt was gone.
Shit.
Santana sat stewing in guilt as Brittany disappeared inside her house. Wildly, she looked around her car- in her glove box, the coin compartment, the back seat- trying to find something that would pass as a plausible gift. She found her car manual, a half used tube of sunblock left over from their summer lake trips. An old, stiff gummy bear which had fallen under the front seat. Aaaand. Her car phone charger.
She did consider that last option but then Brittany was opening the car door again and sliding back into the passenger seat, clutching a piece of paper and a lumpy present wrapped in cartoon reindeer wrapping paper.
"Britt," Santana looked at it guiltily. "I didn't...I haven't had the chance to…"
Brittany handed her the lumpy package.
"Open it."
Santana looked at it in her lap then back up at Brittany.
"I feel so bad-"
"Just. Open it."
Santana looked back down at her lamp grimly. She hated opening presents in front of people. She tugged at the sticky tape on one end, edging it up carefully so that she didn't wreck the paper.
"Just rip it off!" Brittany said eagerly, squirming in her seat.
Santana huffed a sigh and did what she was told. The paper came away to reveal a soft, woollen blanket- predominantly brown, but patterned with intricate red, yellow and grey lines. Santana picked up the material and rubbed it between her fingers.
It was sort of scratchy- but she'd always liked blankets like that- the ones which would best induldge her habit of half picking her finger nail and running it across the surface of the blanket so it would catch satisfyingly on threads.
"A new throw? Oh Britt, this is super cool did you make it?" She unfolded it awkwardly, trying to spread it out over the steering wheel. Brittany laughed.
"You are officially the worst present person I've ever met. It's not a throw. It's a poncho!"
"A poncho...oh!" Santana had discovered the head hole. She felt relieved. It would have made a terrible blanket. But the patterns worked really well as a poncho.
"This is great. Now I can blob on the couch and eat anything I want and just wear this to hide the 10 pounds I'll have gained when you get back. You won't notice a thing!"
Brittany laughed. "You're going to look so cute in it. But it's not for blobbing on the couch."
Santana frowned.
"Alright, is it….bed time wear? Wait a minute, is this your idea of sexy lingerie?"
Brittany pressed her lips together in a smile and shook her head. She unfolded the paper from her lap.
"This is sent into a travel website by Paula from Santa Fe, New Mexico." Brittany cleared her throat, angling the paper into the light of the street lamp and read: "Winter in Santa Fe can be cold...The "layered look" is recommended. Always bring a jacket or a sweater, even in mid summer. And an umbrella or a poncho is also highly recommended."
Brittany looked up and caught Santana staring at her.
"It's what came up when I googled 'what to wear in Santa Fe in the winter,'" She explained. "And I thought seeing as you would already have a jacket and a sweater and an umbrella I'd complete the list with a poncho. We have matching ones," she added happily.
Santana opened her mouth, closed it and tilted her head to the side, sure she'd misunderstood. Sure that Brittany had tried a bit too hard to make her feel included when she went away.
Brittany smiled even wider and turned back to the paper.
"Here's a list of things we are going to do while wearing our ponchos. Number one:Go to the Santa Fe Plaza on Christmas Eve and see it all lit up with farolitos. And then, number two: Follow the procession of the Las Pasadas outdoor play on Christmas Eve. Number three: Eat pasole. Number four: Visit the Winter Spanish Market. Aaaannnd my personal favourite, number five: visit the Kakawa Chocolate House."
Santana could tell that Brittany had practised the Spanish words- her voice acquired that usual robotic tone that she got when she spoke something rehearsed. Brittany folded the paper up neatly and then looked sheepishly up at Santana.
"We'll do a lot more things too," she assured her when she caught Santana still staring at her. "But just not in our ponchos. You also have sturdy walking shoes right? Coz," she pointed to the folded paper in her hands, "Paula goes on to say that the pavements tend to be uneven there."
A slow, rising grin spread goofily across Santana's face as she realised fully what Brittany was suggesting.
"I-I talked to my parents," Brittany was saying. "And I talked to yours and I made it so that all you have to do is say yes or no. You have until seven a.m tomorrow morning which is when Dad wants to leave. And if its yes then you should go home and pack tonight and remember the layering thing…"
Santana leant across and kissed the rest of the sentence away.
Santana put so much into the kiss- using it to try and communicate the fact that she loved Brittany in a way that she'd never been warned you could love another person.
It was like those words that foreign languages had for moments that English didn't have the term for. Santana could only ever remember one example: l'esprit de escalier- the French word for the feeling you get after leaving a conversation when you think of all the things you should have said .
Santana wanted her kiss to be like one of those foreign words- finding a way to explain the things that normal communication just couldn't.
When she pulled away and opened her eyes, Brittany was still half engrossed in the kiss- her eyes still shut and her lips still angling for Santana's. After a pause she opened her eyes, realised it was over, and blushed.
"Yes. Yes I'll come with you and wear my poncho and...yes!" Santana laughed as delight covered Brittany's face and she launched herself across the car and wrapped her arms around Santana, whopping: "Best. Christmas. Ever!"