Aaaaaaaand it's back :)
Sorry about the wait for the new chapter. It feels good to be writing this again.
This works around the events of 3x15: Big Brother
Thank you to rabbitxdrummer who beta'd this.
Enjoy.
Ch 23: Up, Up, Up
"Brittany, stick out your tongue."
Brittany looked up from the floor or the choir room where she had glue bottles, colored card, crayons and glitter scattered around her like a storm.
"What?" She asked, looking like she was trying to speak without opening her mouth. From above her, Mercedes frowned.
"Open your mouth, Brittany."
Brittany shot a pleading look at Santana, who was sitting on one of the choir room chairs, her feet resting on the piano stool. Santana rolled her eyes.
"Leave Brittany alone," She snapped at Mercedes and then turned back to her own creation in her lap. So far all she had done was fold the red card in half and write Quinn's name on the front of it in Sharpie- big and loopy.
Mercedes was persisting.
"Brittany, you can't scare me off with Santana. Now open your mouth."
Santana looked up again and watched Brittany give in, huffing a sigh so heavy her shoulders lifted up and down. She opened her mouth and lulled out her tongue. It was sparkling.
Mercedes gasped.
"Oh my gosh Brittany, that can be like so bad for you. You should wash it off! I thought you'd just been chewing on one of those pen lids again."
"Buth ma tung is sparkrey," Brittany said with her tongue still poking out. Santana brought her hand up to her mouth to hide the grin forming on her face as Mercedes threw up her own hands and turned away.
"Oh, lighten up wheezy," Santana scoffed. " It's not like Quinn's going to even give two shits about these cards." She plucked at her own in her lap. "She can't even walk for Christ's sake. I mean, her legs will go all chickeny and bent like Artie's and she'll have to have help everywhere and it just…"
She faltered, realizing that Mercedes' face had dropped and Brittany had pulled her tongue back in, looking glumly at the paper all around her. "...it fucking sucks," she finished.
"Yeah, well," Mercedes rose her voice bravely, "it's better to actually do something rather than just sit around blaming yourself like Rachel."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't even, no. Don't even talk to me about Rachel. Her blubbering is all about the fact that her Hollywood-esque wedding day became the Quinn Is Half Smeared All Over The Road Show rather than the Jurassic Park meets Bride Wars flop that she was lining up for."
Mercedes and Brittany both darted their eyes away again- Brittany back to the floor, where she absentmindedly ran a fingernail over her tongue, flicking away some of the glitter that had collected there. Mercedes had her hands on her hips, looking at the banner they'd managed to hang up above the whiteboard in the choir room.
The three of them had stayed late at school to get ready for Quinn's first day back and Mercedes had become weirdly fixated on the idea that banners and balloons would make up for the fact that no one knew whether Quinn could go to the bathroom alone.
Mercedes had managed to coax Brittany and Santana in to help her with the magic words- 'decorations'- which sent Brittany into trills of excitement so endearing that Santana couldn't say no. Yet, after Mercedes realized that Brittany's creative vision for Quinn's welcome back differed alarmingly from her own (Brittany had suggested that they make Quinn a wheelchair friendly obstacle course followed by a game of musical chairs where Quinn won because she always had a chair), she distracted Brittany with the task of making Quinn a get well card.
And, after she'd refused to take a trip down to the local florist for ridiculously expensive bunches of balloons, Mercedes had demoted Santana to card maker as well.
But Santana had no clue what to write. "Get well soon" didn't work, because Quinn was well. Freakishly so. Whenever Santana went around to her place to hang out Quinn had never been laid up in her bed like an invalid. She'd always had her wheelchair parked in the lounge- angled perfectly so that she could talk to whoever was on the couch and also see the TV if they decided to watch a movie.
It was always vibrant and bright in her place and oddly, it always smelt like home baking. Quinn's Mom would breeze in and out of the room, delivering drinks and snacks with a smile on her face that looked like she was about to go all American Beauty on their asses. Brittany had warned Santana not to look her in the eye, just in case Quinn's Mom started fantasizing about Santana covered in rose petals.
"Hey ladies!" Kurt walked into the choir room- all hip sway and gummy smile. "What's with the 5 year old art project?" He looked down politely at Brittany's card.
"Get… Zeddie…Quinn…" He read hesitantly. "Britt, that's not how you spell 'better'."
Brittany followed his gaze down to her card. "I'm not trying to spell better. I'm trying to spell Zeddie. Did I do it right?"
"What is Zeddie?" There was laughter in Kurt's voice.
"You know," Brittany tilted her head up, looking impatient. "Zeddie Little. The really photogenic guy that ran a marathon and looked like he was model. He's famous on like...Facebook and Twitter and stuff.
"Ohh," Kurt nodded, though to Santana it looked like he suspected Brittany was mildly insane. "And erm, how does that relate to Quinn?"
"Coz like, Zeddie makes running look hot and Quinn makes wheel-chairing look hot and I wanted her to know that anything can be easy if you have a perfectly symmetrical face. And," she gestured enthusiastically at her card, "lots of glitter."
Santana was doubled up with laughter at the look on Kurt's face. He took several steps away, muttering, "oh, that's pleasant."
Brittany caught Santana's eye and Santana winked at her. Brittany flushed and ducked her head, grinning into her glitter dusted lap.
"Does this look okay?" Mercedes asked as Kurt approached her. She gestured up at the banner.
"It's perfect." He nodded.
"Really?" Her voice was strained. "I don't know… I just don't know what exactly to say to her."
"Well, I think 'welcome back' is a pretty good start."
Mercedes nodded, but she seemed unconvinced. Then she walked over to the back of the piano and leant against it, looking at Santana. Kurt followed suit.
"What's she like, Santana?" Mercedes asked in a small, tentative voice. "Is she like...super depressed?"
Santana shook her head.
"No, she's not depressed at all. She's like bright and shiny and happy joy joy. Actually," Santana frowned. "I mean, sometimes she gets like those little kid TV presenters that speak with a permanent smile on their face and have LSD eyes, but I'm guessing that's just because of her meds."
"Sometimes she'd scary," Brittany said in a small voice.
Santana shook her head. "Not scary. She's just...well… dealing. But she's not like crying all the time and threatening to park up a hill with her wheelchair brakes off if that's what you're worried about."
Mercedes looked slightly comforted. "Alright," she nodded, pushing up off the piano. "Well, I better go and get the balloons. Wanna come?" She asked Kurt.
As soon as they left, Santana sat up in her chair.
"Urgh, okay. I'm done with this," she said, scrunching up her card and tossing it into the box on top of the piano that housed all Rachel's sheet music suggestions for her solos at nationals. "Come on Britt-Britt."
She approached Brittany and held out her hand. Brittany took it and stood up against her, threading her arms around Santana's waist and dropping her head onto her shoulder.
"I don't want Quinn to get racing gloves like Artie has," she said in a glum, muffled voice against Santana's neck.
"She won't, I promise," Santana soothed, rubbing a hand up and down her back
Brittany pulled back a little so they could look at one another.
"You promise?"
"Yes, silly!" Santana tucked an arm between them and tweaked Brittany lightly on the end of her nose. "Now get your phone and text Quinn and ask her what she feels like for dinner, we'll bring her take out."
"You text her," Brittany said, pouting slightly. "I'm scared I'll make her crash again."
The look in Brittany's eyes was so genuine that Santana felt a strong tug of emotion. She pulled Brittany back against her and pressed her lips to her temple.
"Fine. I'll do that while you get that glitter off your tongue so I can kiss you."
Quinn had texted Santana back telling her to choose what they had for dinner. So of course, Brittany and Santana approached Quinn's front door holding matching brown paper bags with the Breadstix logo on them.
"I got your favorite," Brittany said, kneeling down on the floor of Quinn's lounge and setting the bag on the coffee table. She drew out a plastic container full of salad and handed it to Quinn, not realizing that Quinn was several feet too far away to reach.
"Uh, babe." From her seat on the couch behind Brittany, Santana nudged her with her foot. Brittany looked up at her, looked where she was jerking her head, and realized her mistake.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Quinn," she bumbled. Santana could see the tips of her ears grow red. She started to get up off the floor to move closer to Quinn, but stopped when Quinn held up a hand.
"It's okay Brittany," she said. "I have wheels, remember?" She edged her chair forwards and awkwardly lent over the arm rest, extending her hand as far as it could go toward Brittany. It wasn't nearly far enough.
"Here," Brittany said, shuffling forwards further and leaning right across the table.
Quinn took a swipe at the container and managed to get it, dropping it onto her lap.
"Sorry," Brittany said.
"It's fine," Quinn in a clipped voice.
Santana stilled a forkful of her pasta halfway to her mouth, watching Quinn warily. But she was looking down, cracking the plastic lid of her salad open. Brittany took her own meal from the bag delicately, like she was scared to upset Quinn further. Then she sat back against Santana's knees and began to snap the lid off of her container like Quinn.
They all focused their attention on the TV, until it cut to the ads. Quinn picked up the remote from the side table that had been placed beside her chair and turned the volume down. Then she dropped it, picked up her fork and roughly stabbed some lettuce onto its prongs.
Santana slowed her chewing and watched as Quinn as she raised the fork to her mouth, thought better of it and then tossed it into her container. She placed it beside the remote on the side table and the swiped her palms against her knees.
"Sorry, I'm not really that hungry."
"Oh, no, no no," Santana shook her head and swallowed her mouthful. "Don't worry. It's okay."
Quinn nodded slowly and then tilted her head.
"Hey, I forgot to ask, how was Cheerleading regionals on Saturday?"
"Oh it was great, yeah," Santana ducked her head to swallow. "I mean, Coach showed up late and one of the freshmen actually pissed her track pants while we were waiting to go on. But, we won." Santana flashed a grin.
Brittany turned to look up at her, nodding.
"Santana was awesome. Like...so unicorn. She yelled at everyone just like Coach Sylvester would and everyone calmed down after that. She totally stepped up."
Santana rolled her eyes away from Brittany's adoring over the shoulder look, and caught Quinn's eye, intending to shake her head and dispute what Brittany had said but stopped when she caught Quinn's mechanic smile.
After a pause Quinn cleared her throat. "That's good. I'm glad it worked out. And hey, I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I wanted to but…" She trailed away.
"That's totally cool," Brittany said, attempting reassurance. "They didn't have any ramp entrances to the stadium anyway."
Anyone could tell by the tone of Brittany's voice that she'd meant it to be consoling, but as Santana registered the words, she stiffened, shifting her eyes carefully to Quinn.
She looked like she'd been slapped in the face.
"Wait, no. I mean… That's not…" Brittany, seeing this, began to stumbled over her words, and shot a look at Santana, pleadingly.
Santana opened her mouth, unsure of what exactly she was going to say, but she was saved as Quinn picked up the remote, switched off the TV and flashed them another winning smile. It reminded Santana of Brittany's "Get Zeddie" card and suddenly she could see the logic. Quinn really had her smiles down. But Santana was also beginning to realize that they were false bottomed- carrying a whole world of things that were as far away from 'happy' as a person could get.
"It's fine. But I'm really tired now. Do you guys mind if we call it a night?"
"But we just got here…" Brittany said in a small voice.
Santana could see Quinn's patience fraying.
"I know, but I'm tired and I'd just like to get an early night before school tomorrow."
"No, it's cool," Santana shoved her fork inside her pasta container and put the lid on. Then she rose from the couch, stepping out from behind Brittany. "We'll leave you to it."
"Thanks." Quinn barely even attempted a smile this time.
Brittany stood up too and clamped her own container lid on, hugging it to her chest, the fork protruding from her mouth. She was looking around like a kid lost on their first day of school. Santana took her hand and squeezed, tugging her lightly a few steps forward.
"Night Q," she said.
"Night guys." Quinn's voice was faint and she was sitting watching them with her hands folded carefully on her lap- her face giving nothing away.
The cool, still interior of Santana's car was a welcome reprieve from the tension that had permeated through Quinn's house. Once they were safely shut inside, Santana and Brittany both relaxed into their seats and turned their heads to look at one another.
"You were right I think," Santana said quietly.
"About what?"
"Quinn is kind of scary."
"She's sad," Brittany said, screwing up her lips in a grim pout.
"Yeah." Santana took a breath. "I wish there was some way we could get on her level. Like I wish there was a way…" She paused and searched the branches hanging over her windshield.
"What like… get wheel chairs too? Coz I lost mine the last time we did that."
Santana smiled slightly and turned her head on the headrest to look at Brittany.
"No like… I don't know. It's just hard. What do you say to her?" Santana put on a high, earnest voice that she associated with Rachel. "Oh, hey, Quinn, you're in a wheelchair that sucks. Question: Do you use one of those old people chairs in the shower?"
Brittany let out a breathy laugh. "I don't think they're just for old people. Artie had one too."
Santana was about to return her laughter but a thought struck her instead. She sat upright and banged her palm against the steering wheel, making Brittany jump.
"Oh sorry," Santana turned to her. "But that's it!"
"What's it?" Brittany blinked.
"Artie!"
"Artie's it?" Brittany frowned. "Since when were we playing tag?"
"No, no. He's the one that can relate to Quinn. He'd be freaking perfect to show her that just because she's in a wheel chair doesn't mean she's an Autobot with no emotions."
Brittany's mouth dropped open and gave an animated gasp.
"And they can bond over shower chairs!"
Santana leant across the center console and planted a kiss on Brittany's grin.
"Go on then," She gestured to Brittany's lap. "Text him."
"My head," Brittany shook it vigorously back and forth," I can't feel my feelings after that emotion tornado exercise."
She and Santana were heading down the dim corridor towards the car park after attending Cooper Anderson's Master Acting Class.
Santana laughed, pulling Brittany into a one armed hug. "Numb feelings aside, isn't Blaine's brother totally awesome? God," She vaulted her eyes to the ceiling . "We were totally given the wrong brother. Maybe he'd consider taking over taking over glee?Like wouldn't it be a nice change to have someone who actually knows what performing and succeeding is really like?"
Brittany wrinkled her nose, and opened her mouth to reply, but was drowned out by the sound of shrill voices and laughter rising up behind them. Brittany and Santana turned around to see Rachel, Tina, Finn and Mike coming towards them down the corridor.
"I think we should get Tacos!" Mike shouted, pointing forcefully at Finn.
"I agree," Finn said, jabbing his finger back at Mike.
Tina burst out laughing, pointing erratically around at no one in particular.
"That's dedication," Finn laughed.
"But an incorrect use of the dramatic point," Santana added.
They had drawn level and all looked around at her in surprise.
"You point during drama, not humor," she explained.
"Yes!" Rachel's face lit up, pointing severely at Santana. "She's right Tina. During humor you're supposed to raise your voice and nudge your scene partner whenever you make a joke."
"That's right," Tina nodded. "I've got that in my notes but I forgot."
"You have to have it up here," Rachel instructed, pressing her fingers to her temple.
"Exactly," Santana said, pointing.
As Rachel, Finn, Mike and Tina broke into laughter, Santana swung her grin around to Brittany, who was standing watching them all, tugging at her bottom lip with her fingers. Santana knew that look. Brittany did it when she was nervous, or trying to figure out how she wanted to explain something.
Rachel had noticed too. "Didn't you like the class, Brittany?" She asked as they all started down the corridor again.
Brittany twitched her eyebrows into a brief frown and then released her grasp on her lower lip.
"I liked it okay. It was funny but I dunno," she shrugged, "I was just saying to Santana that it made me feel like I couldn't feel my emotions."
Rachel nodded seriously. "Oh yes. Yes and that, Brittany," she pointed so close to Brittany's nose that Brittany went cross-eyed momentarily, "is exactly his point! Remember he said you're not supposed to know what your character is feeling?"
"Yeah, uh-huh, I guess," Brittany said, moving her head politely away from Rachel's finger.
Santana waited until they had reached the car park and had split off from the others towards her car to press Brittany further for her opinion.
"You really didn't like the class then?" She said, twisting her key to unlock the car and looking at Brittany over the roof. Brittany didn't answer and ducked her head inside. Santana followed suit.
"Come on, fess up," she persisted as they settled into their seats.
"I thought it was funny," Brittany said, shrugging. "You liked it though, right?"
Santana started the car and spoke while she twisted around, checking thatthe space behind it was clear.
"Well, at first I thought he was a complete freak. Like… Rachel Berry with even more testosterone than she has now…" She edged the car out of the park and curved it around to the entrance. "But then I thought about it, and he totally has the right to be up himself. He's successful, and people know his name. Hell, Kurt was practically jizzing his skirt over him. Right in front of Blaine too. You can't deny that the guy has something."
There was a moment's pause and Santana shot a look at Brittany.
"Don't you think?" She urged.
Brittany just shrugged, and looked down to pick at a finger nail. Santana huffed and turned her gaze back out at the road, deciding to drop it.
But it didn't take long for Cooper Anderson to burst his way back into their lives. They'd gotten back to Santana's place, showered, shared bites of the one left over piece of pizza that Santana's parents had been gracious enough to leave in the fridge for her, and then gone up stairs and curled together on Santana's bed. While Brittany attempted to read the book she'd been assigned in English, Santana got bored and turned on her small TV that sat on the desk. She hardly ever used it, but she knew how much Brittany wanted to finish that book and Santana had made her mission not to let the smell of her perfume, or the softness of Brittany's breasts pressing into her side, coax her into breaking Brittany's concentration.
The TV took a moment to fuzz to life, but when it did, a familiar face filled up the screen, and Cooper Anderson marched towards the camera. Santana recognized that hewas using what he'd called the 'smile like a robot with your eyes and Asian geisha with your mouth' technique that he'd taught them in class.
"Well, well, well, look who it is," she said smugly, nudging Brittany up from her book. Brittany blinked at the screen and gave an exasperated smile.
"That commercial is everywhere."
"And for good reason!" Santana replied, grinning at her cheekily. Brittany swatted her.
"Turn it down so I can read."
Santana pouted and shifted closer up against Brittany's side, trailing her fingers lightly across the skin on the back of her neck.
"I think you've done enough reading," she murmured, pressing her mouth against Brittany's ear.
"Not nearly enough," Brittany said, not looking up, but Santana felt her quiver slightly, and the breath stall in her throat. Grinning, and knowing she was winning, Santana shifted again, swinging one leg over Brittany's lap so that she sat straddling her. Brittany's book had been pushed up against her chest by Santana's stomach. Whisking her loose hair around one shoulder, Santana took Brittany's face in her hands and kissed her gently, open mouthed and enticing.
She felt Brittany's mouth give under hers, a moaned sigh passing from it onto Santana's tongue. She felt Brittany moving as they kissed, and out of the corner of her eye she could see her patting the blankets beside them, finally picking up the remote and jabbing a button, cutting Cooper Anderson's voice dead. Then she brought her hand in between them, pulled the book out and tossed it aside. Encouraged, Santana shunted her hips forwards, and bit down slightly against Brittany's lip.
"You think you've done enough of this?" Santana drew back and asked in a breathy whisper.
Brittany's hands were wrapped around her waist, tugging her insistently forwards. She shook her head, looking up at Santana through heavily lidded eyes.
"Not nearly enough."
Ever since she was a kid, Santana always had a feeling she would die on a roller coaster. She'd had an excuse to avoid them until she turned 11 and started being tall enough to reach above the height restriction bar. From then on, she'd had to make her excuses more creative.
Brittany wasn't buying anything she came up with. As soon as they passed through the ticket barriers at Six Flags, Santana had led Brittany in a half jog to the spinning teacup ride but Brittany had tugged them off course, following the others over to the most lethal looking ride in the whole park- the great hulking green roller coaster that Sam and Puck had spotted from the bus when they were waiting in traffic.
"I don't…no," Santana let Brittany bring her so far as the platform to get into the carts and then she dug her heels in.
"It'll be awesome San, I promise!" Brittany cried, already stepping into her seat.
"Grow some balls and get in, Lopez," Puck added, nudging her with his shoulder.
Santana pushed him along the platform and rolled her eyes, steeping as casually as she could into the cart.
But when everyone had seated themselves in and pulled the safety bars down over their chests, Santana's nerves demolished any sort of calmness she'd been bluffing.
"Really, this isn't my idea of awesome," she said to Brittany beside her, ducking her head under the awning covering the carts in order to see the track ahead of them. It inclined rapidly. "This is not going to be... Holy shit!" Her hands sprang around the bars hooked over her body as the carts all jerked forwards and then settled into a more even pace- heading steadily towards the incline.
Santana slammed her eyes closed and after a moment, felt Brittany tug at her hand, prising it off the bar to squeeze it in her own.
"You're missing the view!" Santana heard her call.
"I'm busy watching my life flash before my eyes!" she called back.
"No, come on, open them!" Brittany squeezed her hand. Santana could feel the wind wafting over them as they reached a snail's pace, their carts clacking higher and higher into the air. Santana held her breath and fluttered her eyes open and instantly regretted it. She felt her stomach swoop as she took in the green blobs that had been masquerading as trees not 2 minutes ago.
"We're so high," she said in a giddy voice, inching her head back and forth ever so slightly- she was scared her movements would unbalance the car. Brittany had no such reservations, and was leaning over the side of the car as far as the safety bars would allow. Santana squeezed her hand extra tightly, preparing herself to have to steady Brittany from falling to her death.
Taking a steadying breath, Santana fixed her eyes on the cart up ahead of them. She could see Sugar doing some kind if excited dance while Kurt twisted this way and that, ohhing and ahhing and tugging at Sugar's sleeve to point something out. They were nearing the top of the rise now, clacking excruciatingly slowly. Santana looked over at Brittany, jerking their hands to get her attention.
"Britt," she called when Brittany swiveled around to face her, "if we die I want you to know I luuuvve… oh my fucking god!"
They'd taken off without warning, and Santana's words were ripped away from her as the stomach swirling sensation of falling took her over. She let go of Brittany's hand and clutched the bars for dear life, crying out as her body was shunted back and forth against the bars.
Behind her she could hear Sam and Puck whooping hoarsely and a high pitched keening scream from up ahead which Santana guessed with either Sugar or Rachel. Or maybe Finn.
As they neared the two giant loops that would swoop them upside down, Santana squeezed her eyes closed once again and resigned herself to her fate. She could hear Brittany's voice calling to her over the whirring of the carts and the screaming.
"Saaan! Saan, look!"
Santana peeked her eyes open and swiveled them sideways without turning her head. Brittany had both hands lifted off the safety bars and her arms were extending above her head which was tipped sideways towards Santana.
"Wooooo!" She called, her eyes bright and exhilarated. "Look San, no hands!"
Going cold with panic, Santana shook her head furiously and snatched at one of Brittany's hands.
"Hold the goddamn bar," she shrieked, half hysterical.
Brittany just intertwined their fingers together and tipped her head back, letting out a trail of laughter as the roller coaster dipped them down and then turned the whole world on its head.
When Santana eased them into her driveway that evening, she could still feel the swooping motion of the ride. It had been the last one she'd consented to go on that was classified on the Six Flags map as a thrill ride. She'd restricted Brittany to the "Family Fun" section of the park- whose rides turned out to be just as life threatening- including a ten story high death trap that posed as a carousal. Luckily, Brittany had gone overboard with the candy floss early in the day- so that they had mostly just ventured around the arcades hand in hand.
The several rounds of bumper cars everyone played together presented a beautifully legitimate excuse to ram Rachel Berry at high speed. After being edged into a corner and hit a couple of times, Rachel threw up her hands, rolled her eyes and got out of the car. During the next round she refused to play and instead prowled around the edge, making loud carrying remarks about the insensitivity of playing bumper cars after what had happened to Quinn. That hit a nerve, and Mercedes was the first to stop her car and get out- leaving Santana thoroughly unsatisfied with her perfectly lined up hit of Mercedes car.
Brittany seemed to have also been influenced by Rachel's comments because the next thing Santana knew, she was being dragged over to an imposing looking caravan with its side up, revealing a line of targets and a wall of stuffed toys.
"We should win one for Quinn," Brittany whispered, traveling her wide eyes over the toys.
Santana glanced along the rows of stalls around them. "Yeah that would be all well and good if either of us had ever shot a gun in our lives. Why don't we try…" Santana looked back over her shoulder. She spotted Rachel and Finn nearby at another stall- which looked like it would just sell you the goddamned soft toys. "There," Santana said, pointing. When Brittany didn't respond Santana looked back around to see she'd already exchanged money for a plastic gun and had widenedher stance, cocking her head and closing one eye to aim.
"Don't...hit...the...toys…" Santana heard her mutter to herself.
Brittany had three shots, but she didn't need them. She hit the bull's eye on the first go and pulled her face back from the gun, looking at Santana with wide, bright eyes and her mouth half open in a gasp of excitement. Santana hadn't been able to stop her grin and pulled Brittany against her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and stepping forward still pressing them together as Brittany leaned over and choose her prize- A fluffy yellow duck.
That evening as they drove home, Santana managed to convince Brittany to wait until the next day to drop the duck off at Quinn's. But, excited as she was, Brittany decided on sending her a text as they neared Santana's place.
"Hope you had a unicorn ditch day with Artie, Q. We had a cool time, but wished you could have been there. We got you a surprise, see you tomorrow."
She read the text out and looked up at Santana for approval. Santana nodded and then twisted the keys out of the ignition.
"Come on," she said opening her car door, "bed."
Brittany nodded, a smile squirming onto her face, and got out of the car to follow Santana.
The house was dark and quiet, sleep hanging in the air as fragile as china. So when they stepped thought the front door, they stealthed their way up to Santana's room.
"Shower?" Santana asked when she eased her door closed and turned to look at Brittany.
She'd put Quinn's fluffy duck toy down on Santana's desk and had kicked off her sneakers and wiggled out of her Cheerios skirt so that she was standing in the top half of her uniform, her underwear and her socks. Santana grinned and stole lightly across the carpet towards her.
"That was fast," she murmured as she reached Brittany, circling her arms around her waist and tugging up the back of her shirt so she could stroke the skin there. Brittany shifted closer and hummed a happy noise in her throat.
"I'll take a shower in the morning. I'm too tired now."
Santana nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Bed then," she said, pulling away and beginning to undress herself.
She was down to her bra and underwear when she looked up and noticed Brittany hadn't moved to take off any more of her own clothes. Instead she was standing where Santana had left her, frowning down at her phone in her hands.
Santana walked back to her as she unzipped her uniform top and shrugged it off.
"What? Did Q text back?"
Brittany shook her head and pressed her lips together, looking guilty up at Santana.
Santana dropped her eyes quickly to the message on the screen, seeing it was from Artie. Immediately, a trill of panic shot through her as she connected Brittany's guilt to a text from her ex-boyfriend. Santana shot her hand out and took the phone off of Brittany, turning it the right way up and scowling at the screen.
"Back to the drawing board- Ditch-day with Quinn was a bit of a fail. She got upset at the end and left. She's pretty resolute on pretending that nothing has happened."
Santana read the message over twice, feeling her panic being replaced by a sinking disappointment. She looked up at Brittany and stuck out her lower lip.
"That's too bad."
Brittany nodded solemnly. "Poor Quinn."
Santana tossed the phone over on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. Brittany sunk into the hug, and tucked her head into the crook of Santana's neck.
"We'll figure something out," Santana murmured, passing her hand down the back of Brittany's head. "We'll start by giving her that fluffy duck and go from there. Okay?"
When Brittany didn't answer, Santana pulled back slightly and shook her.
"Okay?" She repeated. Brittany lifted her gaze to Santana and nodded slowly.
"Okay."
Santana tucked her close again and kissed her- soft enough to be reassuring, but deep enough to make Brittany's breath catch.
"Let's just not think about it right now," Santana whispered against Brittany's lips. Then she kissed her again.
With only a moments hesitation, Brittany opened her mouth to Santana and let the kiss become deeper. Santana sucked a harsh breath through her nose and squeezed her eyes closed harder, funneling all her senses into Brittany. It was almost too easy to block out everything else.
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