Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called The Brittany and Santana Show, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).
A/N: Well, this week has been quite shitty... but I do feel slightly better delivering the new chapter this week as promised. And an epic long one at that. Longer thus far, yet again. Plus it took first rank in my "favourite chapters" list. It turned out better in writing than in my head, and it usually is the other way around. So, hope everyone enjoys as well!
*** This one goes out to: Tita, I wanted to deliver the chapter on your birthday as you requested, but I failed. Sorry, I really did try. Either way, happy belated birthday and hope you dig the new addition! lalala671, welcome to this crazy ride and thanks for the kind words. And pacific firebrand, dude, you make me laugh! Hope you enjoy the fact that some of your wishes were granted. Well, I did not-so-subtly planted those seeds on several past chapters. It was only natural to see them grow now *lol* And rushing, really? I feel like I move everything so slow... Oh, well; I just don't want the story to turn redundant and repetitive. So, a time jump is necessary in my opinion every once in a while. As for Santana's music taste, yeah... as you'll see on this chapter as well, everyone in this story will have to partake on my taste in music *lol* So, expect lots of indie songs (especially extremely depressing ones) and vintage/classic artists in the future. Although Santana does dig Stevie Nicks and The Zutons, which makes me think she has potential for greatness ;)
Enjoy chapter 12, folks! Thanks for all the reviews and PMs, you rock :)
Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances
||Chapter Twelve||
Santana entered Charlie's that late afternoon and perched herself on a stool by the bar. The place wasn't crowded but it had a good amount of people inside. Blame the goddamned 'happy hour', Puck would say.
"You turned up early today," Puck greeted the brunette who wore a work appropriate dress underneath her white doctor's coat from behind the bar. Eyeing Santana's attire he added with his usual smirk in place, "Did you come so we can finally play doctor together?"
Rolling her eyes the brown-eyed woman replied sarcastically, "Are you always this gross? Actually, don't answer that… We both already know the answer." After a beat she added offhandedly, "I just got off work, really needed a drink and didn't think the blood stain on my left side would be appealing to passer-bys; hence the coat. We had a real squirter today. Why morons are allowed to handle sharp objects I really don't have any idea."
"Why didn't you just change into one of those scrubs?" Puck asked absentmindedly, serving a beer to some guy.
"They are so unflattering…" Santana whined, slightly swinging her stool from side to side.
"I think they're sexy," the bartender countered with a grin, receiving an instant scowl. But the brunette's mind couldn't help but think of a certain blonde who once upon a time shared the same opinion. She squashed the thought before it could germinate, though.
"You'd think a potato sack was sexy if a hot woman was wearing it," Santana replied with a tinge of misplaced annoyance as she came out of her own thoughts.
"Can't say I disagree." After a beat Puck came closer to the brown-eyed woman from behind the bar and asked, "So, what can I get you, sexy doc?"
"First, call me that again and you'll be missing some teeth," Santana quipped with a small smile, and then she added with less bite, "I'll be having an appletini, thanks." She grinned to gain a bit of his sympathy.
"How many times do I have –"
She cut him off, "Come on, Puck… Work was so boring today, I need this. You'll finally have the chance to crack open that book I selflessly gave you after you helped with Zoey's room," the brunette said in a pleading – and yet not destitute of pride – tone.
"Selflessly… yeah, right," the barkeep quipped and went on to grab something behind the bar. "You mean this book?" He threw the item on the bar, a book with a huge number of cocktail recipes.
"You haven't even taken it out of the plastic wrap?"
"Nope, and I'm not planning on it." And then he added in a halfheartedly huff, "You already got me to order those chardonnays and merlots, when will it be enough for you woman?"
"I'd say when you make me that appletini. Come on, let's not waste time. I still have to go home and change before walking Poppy with Zoey in a little while."
"Not happening, Santana. Just choose between your merlot and chardonnay."
"I'll stick with the appletini," she said resolutely and then to distract him the brunette added, "Speaking of Zoey, thanks for the present. Britt said there was one from you in the present pile. I didn't even see you drop by that day."
"I didn't. I bumped into Danes when I was buying it and I asked him to deliver for me," Puck said dismissively in a well rehearsed blasé tone.
"Well, either way, it was very uncharacteristically sweet of you," Santana quipped with a smug grin on her face.
"Wow, even when you're paying me a compliment you manage to insult me. How do you do that?" Puck quipped back, matching her grin as the brown-eyed woman simply shrugged in response.
"You should have dropped by," Santana added in earnest.
"Kids' birthdays aren't exactly my scene."
Santana nodded, understanding the bartender. Before Zoey got in the picture those scenes weren't exactly hers as well.
A few minutes later Santana was taking small sips of her well-fought-for appletini as Puck returned to her immediate location after serving a few more people on the other side of the bar.
"So, how are things with you and Riley?" Puck asked nonchalantly, unable to hide a smirk from his smug face.
"How did you –"
He cut her off, "Small –"
She cut him off with a warning, "Don't even dare to give me that small town bullshit."
"I was at the strip club that day you two were eye-fucking each other. And I saw it when later she gave you her number," the bartender offered offhandedly, wiping the bar's counter with a cloth. Receiving Santana's suspicious stare, he added with annoyance, "What? I'm a regular there. I frequent the place a lot."
"Why that doesn't surprise me?" Santana said in question whilst shaking her head and taking a sip of her green drink.
"So…" Puck trailed on with a smirk.
"It's none of your business, Puck," Santana replied with a bite in her tone and a scowl in her face.
"Come on, Santana… Give me a little something to work with here. Just the thought of the two of you together does wonders to Puck Jr.," Puck stated with a dreamy look on his eyes as he stopped wiping the counter to daydream.
Shaking her head at the man for the umpteenth time that day, Santana mused, "And when I call you 'pig' to your face you still get outraged…"
Puck dismissed her comment and replied evenly, "Well, you did seem like a mess in the club's parking lot. Still can't control the weeping when the alcohol really kicks in, huh? Yeah, some things never change."
"I didn't weep in the parking lot," Santana countered with a bark and a glare, defending herself. The details of that night were still quite hazy, but Jimmy had filled her in... Not that Puck needed to know that.
"Yeah, right…"
"I drank too much and I don't recall any weeping."
"A likely story, Lopez... From where I was sitting they even could have run a story on the Lima's Gazette about your meltdown. It sure beats the rummage sale article they printed on the first page that day. I can even picture the headline: 'Meltdown In The Strip Club's Parking Lot'," the bartender teased the brunette with a smug grin on his face.
"Well… screw you," the brown-eyed woman shot back sardonically, not having any more points to that argument.
Puck laughed out loud and said, "Good thing your boyfriend was there to drag your ass home."
"Jimmy's not my boyfriend. He's my best guy friend."
"Whatever," Puck dismissed with a tinge of jealousy but managing to hide it behind his blasé tone. "So, you and Riley?" He added with a suggestive tone, raising both eyebrows.
"I'm not going to share intimate details of my life with you, Puck," she stated lightheartedly, finishing one of the last two gulps of her drink. "We're not friends, you know?" She finished, but her bitchy face was far from in place.
"The feeling is entirely mutual my non-friend," Puck replied in the same tone as Santana as the brunette downed the last of the drink.
"Good, glad we're in agreement," Santana said whilst standing up, grabbing her bag that sat on the next stool in the process.
"Oh, I'll bring you that movie you wanted to borrow next time I swing around," the brown-eyed doctor added as an afterthought as she grabbed some money from her bag and dropped it on the bar.
"Cool," Puck replied absentmindedly before Santana turned around and left Charlie's.
Not friends. Not friends at all.
Santana walked over to Brittany's house with Poppy strolling calmly in front of her, securely tied up by a red leash. As she approached the blonde's yellow abode Santana spotted Zoey outside by the front gate, looking from side to side probably trying to see her coming. Jenna was also outside, washing her Nissan Versa on the small driveway while Brittany watched. Santana felt like gagging at the domestic sight in front of her. They always made her want to gag. Her jealous thoughts were interrupted, though, when Zoey saw her and came running in her direction.
"Mama!" Zoey exclaimed, knelling down instantly to pat Poppy who was bigger by then and very enthusiastic towards the girl. "Pops!" She added with adoration while the dog wagged her tail.
"Hey, baby," Santana replied with love and a smile, handing her daughter the leash but the kid didn't take hold of it.
"Can you hold it so I can ride in my bike beside you?" Zoey asked, looking up at her with those big blue eyes that were impossible to say 'no' to. Santana had given her a pink bike for her birthday, which the little girl loved. She still needed training wheels but the brunette woman promised to teach her to ride without them after the kid got used to riding better.
"Sure," Santana replied promptly with a smile, and the kid's face lit up as she grinned broadly. The brown-eyed woman couldn't help but kiss the top of her daughter's head, which was adorned with a headband.
"I'll go get it," the little girl informed and dashed towards the house.
Brittany, who had been watching the whole scene play out from afar with untamed satisfaction, waved at Santana with a smile on her face as their eyes met for the first time. The brunette raised her head a bit in silent acknowledgement and walked over towards the white picket fence with Poppy. The dancer couldn't help but notice that Santana wore an orange cashmere sweater from their time together. Lately she had only been wearing new articles of clothing and Brittany was sort of thankful for the change because being hit with memories of them together was both amazing and painful. But the former totally made up for the latter. And so the blonde let herself be washed over with thoughts of hugs and cuddles and the feel of the soft orange fabric against her cheek. When Santana approached she shoved them to the backburner.
"Hey, San!" Brittany greeted cheerfully in a proper way as she walked closer to the fence herself.
"Hi," Santana replied less enthusiastically as the only thing separating them was the white fence.
Jenna looked sideways and raised her head to acknowledge Santana, who did the same in return. Every day it was harder for them to tolerate each other.
Feeling the tension Brittany stated matter-of-factly, "She's getting bigger," and then she looked down at Poppy with the same adoration as Zoey. She would pat her, or hug her, or cuddle her, but the fence wouldn't allow her. Mommy and daughter did share a strong love for all animals, and it made Santana smile a bit wider.
"Tell me about it…" Santana trailed on, looking down at the dog and then back at the dancer. "The little pain in the ass already destroyed three of my favourite pairs of shoes, and she has refined taste the little bitch. She saw a pair of flats beside my Manolos in the closet. Guess which ones she tore apart?" The brown-eyed woman added with exasperation and Brittany only had a chance to giggle before Zoey came back pushing the pink bike.
"Put on your helmet, sweetie," Brittany said in her motherly tone, looking to her side at their daughter who did what she was told.
"I think she needs a coat, too, Britts. It's getting chilly outside," Santana stated with concern, considering the time of the year while looking at the blue-eyed woman. Winter was just around the corner.
"Ok, I'll go grab one real quick."
They fell in silence. Jenna washing her car with an un-friendly look on her face, and Santana watching Zoey play with Poppy absentmindedly. Both women not really bothering to come up with conversation topics.
Brittany came back in a flash with a red coat in her hands. She handed it to Santana over the fence with a smile. The brunette proceeded to help their daughter get into the piece of clothing with enough gentleness to melt any bystander's heart, let alone Brittany's soft one. The blonde watched the scene with a broader smile on her face and Jenna subtly watched her watching them.
"Nice and cozy," Santana said with a grin whilst buttoning her kid up before kissing Zoey's pink cheek with unabashed love.
After getting settled on the bike with Santana's help, Zoey said while looking to her side "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Aunt Jenna!"
"Bye, munchkin," Brittany replied while watching the two objects of her affection – well, three; she already loved Poppy – move along down the sidewalk.
"Bye, Zoey," Jenna replied at the same time as Brittany.
They fell in comfortable silence.
Out of the blue Jenna said without stopping the task of wiping the car dry, "Brittany?"
"Hmm," the dancer hummed in acknowledgement, present in body but absent in mind.
Jenna stopped with drying the car with a cloth to look sideways at the taller blonde, and asked softly, "Do you want to get back with Santana?"
That did the trick to snap the blue-eyed woman out of her trance. "What?" She asked with surprise, turning on her heels to face her wife completely. "Where did that come from?"
"I'm not stupid, you know, nor blind," the green-eyed woman stated calmly, without raising her tone of voice. It wasn't the premise of any accusations. "I can see the looks and how you are when the two of you spend time together…" The petite blonde sort of trailed on, dropping the cloth to the ground. It was past time to air this all out.
"Jenna…" Brittany trailed on as well with a loaded tone, not making any attempts to come closer to her wife. This topic was touchy enough as it was. "I'm with you, aren't I? Santana is my best friend and Zoey's mother. Of course we'll spend time together… I feel we had this conversation before; more times than one, and –" the dancer added with misplaced exasperation. She consciously knew that she was somehow evading, but she could not do anything to stop herself.
Jenna cut her off, not abruptly just eagerly and kind of desperately, "Yeah, we've had. But nothing got really settled. I still… I still feel all these things that I honestly don't enjoy one bit feeling, and I still don't know exactly where we stand or who we are anymore in the midst of all of this." She took a few steps towards the blue-eyed woman.
Brittany wasn't following her and that last part didn't fall well in her ears. It sounded ominous, somehow. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked defensively but softly, crossing her arms across her chest.
Jenna hung her head against her chest with mild frustration. She loved Brittany, but sometimes her wife could be so dense. She needed to cut to the chase. "It means that I'm feeling insecure, Brittany," she said dejectedly.
"You're feeling jealous," Brittany corrected softly, feeling for her wife. Empathy was a funny thing, not that the taller blonde would ever associate it.
"That, too," Jenna conceded gently, locking her green eyes on sympathetic blue ones.
The blue-eyed woman cupped her wife's cheek. "You shouldn't. Like I said, I'm with you," she reiterated her previous remark for there was nothing else she could say. She wanted to make Jenna feel better, but turned out it was hard convincing people when you needed convincing yourself. "I wouldn't do anything that wasn't right, you know that," Brittany added softly, and by that time she felt like she was on a script.
Leaning into the dancer's touch with neediness, Jenna replied just as softly, "I know, honey. I know... But I can't help but feel that maybe you're trying to push me into doing something you want to do but can't."
The green-eyed woman saw confusion in her wife's face. Even though Brittany understood quite well what the smaller blonde meant. So, Jenna clarified, "I want you to know that I'm all in here. I won't go anywhere. If, perhaps, uh…" this was so hard to say, to put it out there out loud when she had been doing her best to keep it down, "…you want out, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come up with the courage to dump me yourself, 'cause –"
"I won't," Brittany stopped her with reassurance, before this all got to be too much and too out of control. Perhaps, too truthful… or dishonest? Depending on where you were sitting. At that moment Brittany was glad that Jenna wasn't Santana. That she couldn't quite read her like an open book, that she didn't feel the need to keep drilling until she stroke oil, otherwise… But was she really? Was she really glad? No, those thoughts had to be chased away from her mind. The comparisons needed to stop. When she and Jenna first got together comparisons were all she could think about. It took a lot of time and energy to drown them out. She couldn't go back to that now. Brittany knew she wouldn't be strong enough if she did. And so, she leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against Jenna's.
Jenna felt more at ease as she moved her lips against the dancer's, deepening the kiss. Her wife had dodged some questions and something she couldn't pin-point about this whole situation still bothered her, but right at that moment she felt some reassurance and for the time being it was enough for her.
At the same time that Jenna and Brittany were having their conversation, Santana and Zoey were sharing their own.
"So, how was school today?" Santana asked offhandedly, walking Poppy whilst looking at Zoey who rode her pink bike by her side.
"Boring," Zoey replied promptly, not knowing if she looked ahead at where she was going or at Poppy, whom she was beguiled by.
Santana laughed out loud at her daughter and they fell in a comfortable silence while enjoying the walk/ride around the block. After a while, out of the blue, Zoey broke the silence.
"Mama, are you and Mommy 'divoiced'?" The little girl asked with innocence without stopping the ride.
"What?" Santana asked in confusion, not sure about what her daughter meant.
"Russ said yesterday in school that his mom and dad are 'divoiced' because they don't live in the same house anymore and he 'have' two bedrooms," the blue-eyed girl stated with a pensive tone, looking sideways at the brunette woman. "You and Mommy don't live together and I have two bedrooms now," she concluded flatly, partially pleased by her own logical deduction.
Fuck, Santana thought. Of course she had to come to me with this loaded question. She knew honesty was the way to go. "Yes, baby. We are divorced," Santana said softly, locking eyes with her child to convey her sympathy. Both had come to a halt by then.
Zoey processed the information and replied sadly, holding her Mama's searching gaze, "But you can't be."
It broke Santana's heart to see her daughter sad. This certainly wasn't supposed to go down like this.
"We are, Z," the brown-eyed woman confirmed the hard truth. There was no point lying to the kid. "Why we can't be, sweetie?" She added with curiosity. Things weren't adding up in her head for the conversation to take this turn.
"Russ said that 'divoiced' parents don't love each other. And I said that my mommies weren't 'divoiced' then, because they did love each other," Zoey said in a bit of a huff. The boy really did push her wrong buttons. "You love Mommy, don't you?" She added more calmly, almost pleadingly as she held Santana's stare with so much vulnerability and strength that made the doctor's heart clench.
Fuck, shit, fuck; Santana thought. Her kid was really putting her on the spot. This conversation was taking even worse turns than she had firstly expected. However, she couldn't leave her little girl hanging, and she couldn't lie; but she also couldn't spill the whole harsh truth.
Clearing her throat and taking some time to formulate the better answer, Santana said barely above a whisper, feeling like she might drown in her kid's piercing stare anytime, "Yes. I do, Zoey." It wasn't a lie. It was the absolute truth, and right then she knew she had to add something to contain the impact of those heavy, naked words. It was who she was… it was in Santana's nature to be guarded and secure about those sorts of things: feelings. She always had to cover every angle. "I'll always love her because she gave me you," she added resolutely with a wide smile.
Zoey matched it instantly, happy that she was right and not Russ. "Does she love you, too?" The blue-eyed girl asked hopefully, still not done with the many questions that have been gradually forming in her mind throughout this whole time.
"Well, that is something you might want to ask her… but I suppose she does, too," Santana replied honestly, and the brunette herself couldn't help but be washed over with a desperate, silent and – on her adult end – slightly empty hope. And then she felt the need to add, "For the same reason I love her. I gave her you as well," her smile broadened and she finished with, "It's all about you, mi hija. We love you very much! Don't doubt that any second."
The little girl broadened her smile as well and said with self-righteousness, "I told stupid Russ about the way you looked at each other," Santana couldn't help but blush a bit at her kid's perceptiveness and remark. Were they… was she being that obvious? "And how happy we are when we're together, but he wouldn't believe me," Zoey added with a small pout. "That's why I had to kick his shin," Santana's eyes widened and the kid realized she had spilled the beans in the heat of the moment. She wasn't used to hiding things… yet. Not at that age anyhow. Seeing the look on her Mama's face she added rapidly in her defense, "He shoved me first. Please don't tell Mommy."
"I'm not mad, Zoey," Santana reassured Zoey with a smile. "If some kid pushes you first you have every right to push – or kick – back. It's only fair," she added with her trademark bitchy tone. "I'm sure your Mommy won't mind either."
"But she always says I have to be the stronger person," Zoey whined a bit, feeling like she let Brittany down or something.
"The bigger person," the brown-eyed woman corrected softly. "And, yeah, of course she would say that... She had me to do her dirty work when we were little," Santana added with a scoff, thinking back to those playground days when she would drop anyone who dared to mess with the little blonde. "But, trust me, if someone messes with you it's ok to fight back. What isn't ok is to start fights yourself. That's not cool, Z," the doctor finished, trying to be a good, responsible parent.
Zoey nodded and they resumed their walk/ride. Poppy was already getting restless. But even after all those questions, Zoey still had queries unanswered.
So, without wavering any longer, the little kid went straight to the heart of the matter after they moved a mere couple of feet ahead, "Mama?"
Fuck, shit, fuck, crap, double crap; Santana thought. Why did their kid have to be so damn inquisitive and perceptive? Why couldn't she grill Brittany instead of her? To hell with Brittany S. Pierce's damn luck!
"Yeah?" The brunette woman replied calmly and subtly sighed, hoping to God her daughter wouldn't dig up that conversation again.
"If you love Mommy," as soon as Zoey started Santana's hope came crashing down, "and Mommy loves you… then why Aunt Jenna is Mommy's wife and not you? Why can't we live together?" Zoey asked with untamed interest, peddling her bike slowly. She had been maturing these questions for a long time now, and was really eager to finally let them all out and receive some answers. She really liked Aunt Jenna, but no matter how she would spin it, the green-eyed blonde wasn't one of her mothers. The little girl didn't know exactly why, but the thought of having her two mommies together made her heart fill with uncontrollable joy. They were her family.
Santana gulped hard and tightened her hold on Poppy's leash until her tanned knuckles turned uncharacteristically white. "Well, baby, do you remember when I was sick and sleeping in the hospital for a really long time?" The brown-eyed woman asked softly, trying to ease her kid into the sad tale.
Zoey nodded her confirmation, watching her Mama with undivided attention. Not even Poppy could steal the spotlight at those pivotal instants.
"Yeah, so the doctors didn't think I was going to wake up again and your Mommy, of course, felt really sad after she heard that. Years later she met someone else and she didn't want to be so sad and alone anymore, or make you feel sad with her," she was becoming emotional by that point, telling the story from Brittany's point of view made her heart somehow ache for the dancer, "So, she got married again to try to be happy and not lonely once more," Santana concluded, trying to sound chipper for Zoey's sakes.
Zoey seemed to be taking everything in and processing all the information again. They had stopped walking/riding once more. "But what about now that you're awake?" The kid asked with utter innocence.
Part of Santana wanted to say a big 'thank you' to her daughter for thinking like her, even though her train of thought was equivalent to one of a four-year old. But the other part didn't know exactly what to reply. She still didn't fully understand it herself. Right at that crucial moment Santana realized how easy it would be to make Brittany – and even Jenna herself – the flagitious characters in this story to Zoey… but she would never be able to do so. To tarnish the image of Zoey's other mother in her little head. To create conflict and transform their lives in a living hell with that 'she said, she said' business. In her mind she couldn't believe, she didn't know how some divorced parents could put their children through such an ugly thing. And, yet again, she did know: love clearly wasn't there anymore… unlike her case.
So, Santana went with what Brittany had told her herself, and something she actually could grasp because of who her ex-wife was, "Well, now everything is different, honey. Your Mommy isn't free anymore. She has another wife and it wouldn't be right to just dismiss that." Those words tasted extremely sour coming from her own mouth but, in this case, it was the right thing to do and say.
"What about you?" Zoey asked without missing a beat, furrowing her delicate little brows with adorable confusion.
"What about me?" Santana replied with confusion herself.
"I don't want you to feel sad and lonely by yourself," the little girl stated with concern like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The brown-eyed doctor's heart was yet again filled with extreme love for her daughter. This innocent, sweet, delicate, good-natured angel who never ceased to amazed her Mama.
Opening up the widest, sweetest of grins, Santana tried her hardest to prevent tears from welling up in her eyes and said to Zoey, "You don't have to worry about me, cariño…" The woman ran a hand through the portion of Zoey's long hair that transcended the pink and white helmet. "I have my number one girl: you. And that makes me the happiest person on Earth," she added with emotion laced in her tone of voice. It was the truth. It might as well be a partial one, but it didn't feel like a lie at all to Santana as the words left her lips.
Zoey seemed to be at least satisfied by the answer because she flashed the brunette woman a sweet smile as they began riding/walking yet again.
Santana undid the fists she had no idea her hands were forming alongside her body throughout her conversation with her daughter, and they finally made it around the couple of blocks.
Later that night Brittany tucked Zoey in and proceeded to pick up some toys that her daughter had left across the floor.
"Do you think that Mama is pretty?" Came Zoey's question from out of the blue.
Brittany, who was bending over to pick the last toy, continued with the pick-up but turned around in surprise with arms full of toys to face the little girl who lied in bed. Where did that come from? The blonde thought to herself.
Placing the toys in a colourful toy-trunk, the dancer replied honestly, "Yes, I do." It was the pure truth and there was no reason to lie to her kid. And then, inching closer to Zoey's bed and taking a seat on her bedside, Brittany added with a smile on her face, "She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever met."
Zoey seemed to be studying her and the blonde didn't know why but her daughter's searching gaze was sort of disconcerting.
"Why do you ask, sweetie?" Brittany asked softly, bringing the kid's covers closer to her little chin.
Zoey merely shrugged and flashed her Mommy a sweet – and somewhat disturbingly knowing to the blue-eyed woman – smile.
After a moment of silent staring, Zoey stated matter-of-factly with sheer innocence, "She said she'll always love you, and you'll always love her." She didn't include Santana's addendum to her phrase because that was all that the little girl had heard when her Mama had spoken earlier.
Brittany was taken aback, but mostly she felt overwhelmed by this sense of happiness and something else. Something extremely pleasant that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Zoey unceremoniously turned a bit and closed her eyes. Happy with this interaction… but still not completely satisfied with everything.
The blonde broadened her smile and took a few more seconds to bask on the feelings that washed over her whilst looking adoringly at their daughter. After a while she stood up and went towards the door.
Before she could reach it, Zoey asked in a low tone without opening her eyes, "Is it true?"
Brittany replied without missing a beat, morphing her smile into a bittersweet one, "Absolutely." After a beat she added softly, "Sweet dreams, baby." And then she turned the light off and left the night-light on.
Days later Brittany and Jenna were in line for snacks at the movie theater.
"And then I saw him stuffing a few cell phones into his bag before he left his shift," Jenna informed Brittany as a couple of teenagers in front of them ordered.
"What did you do?" Brittany asked offhandedly, looking sideways at her wife.
"Well, I had to report him. He left me no other choice."
"Maybe you could have talked to him first."
"It's not the first time that he's done this, Brittany," the green-eyed woman replied as it was their turn to order. Changing the subject the shorter blonde asked the dancer, "Sweet or salt?"
"Either," Brittany answered casually without missing a beat, looking around at nothing in particular.
"One large popcorn and two sodas, please," Jenna said to the young teen boy behind the snacks counter.
The two women picked up their treats and headed inside the theater, which was already quite full of people. They proceeded to grab a couple of seats on the right side of the two sets of chairs near the back of the room. Yes, the Lima Theater was rather small. As they were adjusting themselves and getting comfortable Brittany heard a sound she was quite familiar with. A sound that she could recognize anywhere. A sound that felt like music to her ears and if she had to listen to it every day she would die a happy woman: Santana's laughter. That contagious, sexy, husky, deep throaty sound that always had managed to bring a smile to Brittany's own lips. She instantly started to look around to find the source of said sound and spotted the well-known cascade of dark, luscious hair as the woman in question sat on the left side of the two sets of chairs near the middle of the room. The blonde unconsciously smiled, but it was quickly dropped when she also spotted a head full of flawless red hair next to Santana's. Riley, she bitterly thought.
"Hey, I'll go pee before the movie starts. You know how tiny my bladder is," Jenna said to the blue-eyed woman with a tender smile on her lips as she rose to her feet.
Brittany nodded absentmindedly because her full attention was otherwise engaged.
"Wanna come with?" The petite blonde added as she rose to her feet and looked down at her wife.
"Nah, I'll stay and watch our stuff," Brittany said while looking up, finally landing her eyes and full attention on Jenna.
"Ok, be right back," Jenna replied, turning around and walking away.
Brittany took the new-found liberty to watch Santana and Riley with untamed curiosity. It had pained her to hear her ex laughing with another woman. But now the blonde was having more time to dwell, and it was also further paining the dancer the fact that Santana was in a date with someone else… that she would probably give Riley a goodnight kiss after… or worse. God, the mere thought made her nauseous! Should she go say hi? No, that would be awkward and extremely painful; she thought. But would it be weird to just sit there without saying anything? Before she could muse further whilst staring at the back of the women's heads, Santana got up and made her way to the center aisle. As the brunette walked up said aisle she spotted Brittany on the back of the theater, who had swiftly averted her gaze to not seem like a weirdo stalker or something.
Walking towards the dancer with a surprised, peculiar smile on her face, Santana quickly reached Brittany's seat. "Ok, are you stalking me now or something?" Santana asked with a newly-formed amused smile, looking down at the blonde.
Brittany rolled her eyes and replied evenly, looking at the brunette in the eye, "Don't you ever get tired of flattering yourself?"
"Not really," Santana answered with confidence and without missing a beat as she flashed Brittany one of her cocky smirks. Looking down at a purse on top of the seat next to the dancer's Santana added with a sharp bite, "So, where's Betty White?" Shaking her head vigorously she amended, "No, actually I take that back. Betty is way too awesome. Where's Zsa Zsa Gabor?"
It was Brittany's turn to shake her head, and then she replied dismissively not taking the bait, "She went to the bathroom."
"Yeah, old age really takes its toll on one's bladder," the brown-eyed woman quipped in a mock serious tone as she wore a tight-lipped smile and nodded her head repeatedly for emphasis.
Even though Brittany felt like smiling, she wouldn't take this lying down. So, she asked with an edge on her tone and a smirk of her own, "And how's Anne of Green Gables?" The blonde pointed towards Riley with her head. Of course she was exaggerating; the ginger was twenty-five years old already.
"Excellent, thanks for asking," Santana replied evenly, unwillingly matching Brittany's smile. "So, is Zoey with you?" She asked, changing the subject with ease.
"Allison," was all that Brittany needed to say.
"Aww, using Ally's services to have a date night... How nice," Santana said with plenty of sarcasm to go around as she locked brown eyes on blue ones.
Brittany held the brunette's stare and replied without backing down while dismissing Santana's remark, "You and Riley…" both could hear the disdain in her tone, "First date?"
"Second actually," came the brown-eyed woman's quick response.
"Aww, movie and dinner... How nice," Brittany said in the same fashion as Santana did seconds ago. The tension was growing exponentially as they relentlessly held each other's stare, not backing down.
"Movie and drinks," Santana corrected absentmindedly. "Let's just say I owe a certain barkeep a favour, and it works out for me as well since drinks it's faster than a whole meal. What if she is a bore or something? Gotta protect yourself." It was a partial truth. Their first date – only drinks at Charlie's – went quite well. That is why it was bumped to drinks and a movie.
"You're a piece of work Santana Pi… Lopez," Brittany said with a glitch and blushed slightly at her Freudian slip. She was just so used to the character that was once her wife…
"Anyways, speaking of dates I should go. Don't wanna leave mine waiting for too long. Still gotta buy us another soda. You know, too many things to carry at once," Santana said unceremoniously.
"What? You two don't share? We always did," the blue-eyed woman deadpanned unwillingly bitterly, fidgeting nervously with the armrest of her seat.
Looking down at two sodas at their respective cup holders – and also noticing the presence of a single popcorn bucket on Brittany's lap – Santana shot back promptly in the same tone as the blonde, "Well, you don't seem to share anymore either." After an uncomfortable beat she added, "I really have to go now." But the brunette noticed that Brittany's eyes weren't exactly on hers anymore.
"Eyes up here, Britts," Santana finished with an amused tone, gesturing from her chest to her eyes.
Damn, Brittany thought. She had been caught leering. But what was Santana expecting wearing that red top with major cleavage? It tore the dancer apart the fact that the brunette had obviously put effort into this date. Brittany had also noticed throughout their conversation that Santana had taken the time to do her hair perfectly; it was all sexy and freshly, flawlessly blown-dried straight. Her nails were immaculately done and her outfit would make any jaw drop. Without mentioning her fuck-me, ridiculously hot stilettos… Yes, it stung.
Looking up with a slight blush, Brittany – not one to have any filter – replied with bite, "Well, what do you expect wearing something like that, Santana?" And she pointed at the red top which she didn't recognize for effect.
Uuu, full name… She must be riled up; Santana thought with partial amusement and partial anger. Who was Brittany to dictate her attire? Looking beneath her fierce cropped jacket at the debated item, Santana smirked and shot back smugly, "I expect just that. Who said I was complaining?"
Brittany bit her bottom lip. Santana could be so unnerving.
Before she could say anything though, the brunette added, "See you around, B." And she turned around smoothly and walked away. Leaving Brittany to dwell on her misery and glare at the back of Riley's head.
A little over a minute later Santana showed up in front of Brittany again. The blonde looked up at brown eyes with confusion splashed across her blue ones.
"She hasn't figured out yet, has she?" Santana asked softly, locking eyes with the dancer as she cocked her head slightly. Before Brittany could enquire further, the brunette tossed the blonde a box of milk duds and added, "Between salt and sweet… When you say 'whatever' or 'either one'… you actually mean both."
Catching the yellow box on reflex, Brittany was taken aback by the gesture. Santana really did know her well. Too well. And right then the comparisons started to show their ugly heads again. It was getting worse within each day, within each hour, and minute and second… Looking up adoringly at Santana and wearing one of her sweetest smiles, the dancer held that chocolate stare. And she felt the moment. Both felt it.
Once again, before Brittany could say a word, Santana turned around with her soda in hand and sauntered towards her date. Before she reached the aisle, though; the brown-eyed woman stated seriously from over her shoulder, without turning around, "You should learn how to say what you really want, Brittany." And she meant it in more ways than one. The message was not at all lost on Brittany as she watched Santana join Riley with a heavy heart. Santana had wanted to add a 'Before it's too late', but refrained from doing so for some reason.
Moments later Jenna returned from the bathroom, forcing Brittany to stop her blatantly staring at Santana and Riley. The lights had been turned off and the trailers had started showing on the silver screen.
"Jesus, the line for the bathroom was ridiculously long. I almost went to the men's room. There were only, like, three guys standing there," Jenna mused barely above a whisper, taking her seat next to her wife.
Brittany offered her a half-smile before taking a sip of her soda and returning her eyes to the screen.
"I think I saw Santana on the snacks line a few minutes ago," the green-eyed woman added casually.
"Yeah, I talked to her," Brittany said also barely above a whisper and Jenna felt slightly alarmed, and then the dancer added dejectedly after a beat, "She's on a date with Riley." And she gestured with her head towards the two women in question.
Jenna couldn't help the smile that took over her features as she saw the brunette and redhead sitting together on the other side of the theater. That was definitely good news to her.
"That's nice. Isn't it?"
Brittany nodded half-heartedly without taking her eyes from the big screen, and said in a strangled tone to avoid the topic, "The movie is starting."
The green-eyed blonde didn't notice the tone. She was too happy with this new piece of information. So, she grabbed Brittany's hand on the armrest and gladly dove into the flick in front of her… unaware of her wife's inner struggle.
Throughout the movie Brittany was definitely more engaged in The Santana & Riley Picture Show than on the flick displayed on the big screen. So, it came as a shock to the dancer when she watched the two women ditching the movie with smiles plastered across their faces. And it nearly shattered her heart to watch in the dark as Riley's pale hand made its way to Santana's tanned one to guide the brunette through the chairs and aisle. What would they do next? Where were they going? Why were they rudely walking out of the theater in the middle of the movie? Laughing nonetheless... How much more of this would she be able to handle?
Staring at the milk duds box on her lap after Santana and Riley had left the theater, Brittany rarely felt more lost than at that very moment in time.
On a Saturday morning Brittany crossed through the hospital's automatic double doors with a panicked look on her face as she practically dragged Zoey by the hand behind her. The dancer strode rapidly with large steps, making it impossible for her daughter to properly accompany her. Brittany quickly made her way towards the nurses' station; her hair was disheveled, her eyes were wide and she had her coat on backwards as little snowflakes melted on top of it. Ohio winter was finally upon them, after all. The nurse behind the station was talking to a woman who was accompanied by her eight year-old son who wore a blue cast on his arm.
"Excuse me? Hello?" Brittany said frantically, interrupting their talk as Zoey stood by her side. "I got a call –" the blonde added but was cut by the nurse.
"One minute, ma'am… I'll be with you in a sec," the elderly nurse in pink scrubs replied, looking sideways at the blonde for a minute before turning her attention back to the other woman and her son.
"No!" Brittany stated a bit too loudly, causing the nurse to stare back at her with her eyes a bit wide. "Listen, I don't have a sec, ok? I got a call saying that my wife, uh… no… my ex-wife was admitted here, but they wouldn't give me any details on the phone. Is she ok? Is she conscious?" The dancer mumbled rapidly, talking profusely with her hands and sounding like a deranged woman. "Oh, my God, please tell me it's not her brain again," she finished alarmed, nearly breaking into tears.
"I'll be right with you –" the nurse tried to say but Brittany interjected again.
"Didn't you listen?" The blue-eyed woman said even louder, almost pleading as Zoey looked up at her Mommy with wide eyes. She had never seen the woman raise her voice before. "This is important! She could be…" Brittany trailed off. "Please," she finished, looking the nurse in the eye and sounding desperate.
"Is that your mom?" The raven haired boy asked Zoey in a low tone as they stood next to each other.
Zoey merely nodded with a tight-lipped smile, feeling a bit embarrassed by her Mommy's strange behavior.
The boy's mother had tacitly let the nurse look into Brittany's "situation" given the odd state of the blonde. So, the nurse was on her way to take a seat on the computer to try to work things out.
"Her name is Santana. Santana Pi… Santana Lopez," Brittany blurted out erroneously in the same desperate tone, unconsciously holding Zoey's hand extra tightly.
The nurse stopped before she had reached the computer, "Dr. Lopez?" She asked, looking at Brittany's blue eyes.
"Yes!" Brittany replied eagerly, feeling she was finally getting somewhere.
"Well, she came in not long ago and they took her to curtain 3…" the nurse in pink scrubs ceremoniously started to say, but before she could finish Brittany was already dragging Zoey further into the hospital to find Santana.
"Ma'am, you can't go in there before…" the nurse said watching Brittany take long strides towards another double door. "Ma'am…" her words were muffled as the dancer crossed the doors and they swung closed.
Brittany went ahead opening every blue curtain that passed her and Zoey by as she dragged the little girl through the hospital. If she was looking like a mad woman before now she had turned into someone completely certifiable. She didn't even hear the protests some patients made after having their privacy invaded by an apparent lunatic blonde woman.
Before Brittany could pull the sixth curtain though; a different, younger nurse in pink scrubs walked from behind it and the dancer was able to finally spot Santana sitting on a gurney. And the blue-eyed woman could suddenly breathe again.
"Doctor Edwards, not Weber, Garcia," Santana's voice was heard as she addressed the departing nurse, Laura Garcia. She hadn't seen Brittany yet because Laura was blocking her line of vision.
As Laura walked away Santana didn't even have the chance to properly register Brittany's presence before the blue-eyed woman wrapped the brunette doctor in a bone-crushing hug whilst sighing heavily.
"Brittany, what are you doing here?" Santana barely managed to ask as the dancer nearly cut the brunette's air supply with the hug.
For long seconds Brittany didn't even bother to answer. She was simply too busy cherishing the feel of an awaken Santana. Relief coursed through her veins like wild fire spreading through a dry forest. Santana could spot Zoey from above Brittany's shoulder and both shared a greeting smile.
The elderly nurse who was behind the nurses' station a few moments ago finally was able to catch up with Brittany. "Ma'am, I said you couldn't come here without –" The nurse began but Santana cut her off still in the middle of Brittany's tight grip on her neck.
"It's fine, Simpson. She's with me," Santana interjected in defeat and the baffled older woman started to walk back towards the station.
Pulling back after a while, Brittany locked crystal blue eyes on dark chocolate ones with intensity. Santana wasn't sure what was all of that about and before she could ask again she felt Brittany punching her lightly, but not so lightly, on the arm.
"Ouch! What the hell, Britt?" Santana said, wincing as she touched her hit upper arm. Not cleaning up her language in front of Zoey due to pain.
"That's for scaring the life out of me," Brittany said seriously, holding the brunette's confused and pissed-off gaze.
Zoey walked closer to her mommies and proceeded to take a seat beside Santana on the gurney. Brittany helped her up absentmindedly.
Santana took a real gander at Brittany for the first time and saying that her appearance was a mess was an understatement. "What's up with all…" the brunette motioned towards Brittany's whole disheveled state as the blonde hoisted Zoey onto the gurney, "…this?" She amended with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your coat on backwards?" Santana finished with disbelief in her tone as she stared at the dancer without reservations.
Brittany looked down on herself and noticed that it was in fact backwards. Taking it off and fixing it, she replied in a bit of a huff, "Well, sorry but I left home in a hurry." And she proceeded to run a hand through her hair to fix it, too. She didn't even bother to brush it before leaving home.
They fell in comfortable silence as Santana watched Brittany straighten her appearance a bit more.
"What happened?" The blonde added in a more serene way after she was quickly done.
Santana replied dismissively, "It was nothing really. Zoey found my old playhouse in the cellar – I didn't even know my parents had kept the thing for so long – and I promised her…" she looked sideways at her smiling daughter, "…I would put it together. So, this morning I started on it, I mean, how hard could it be, right? The damn manual said the glass from the little window would slide right in, but well, it didn't. It got stuck and I tried to use force… long story short: this gash happened," the brunette finished, holding up her arm to expose a nasty gash on the inside of her forearm.
Brittany winced while looking closely at the gash. "It looks awful. You should be more careful, San," the dancer stated softly.
"It looks worse than it is," Santana downplayed it, feeling the need to soothe the blue-eyed woman still. "Eight stitches and I'll be good as new. I'd do it myself. God knows I'd barely leave a scar," she gloated, "but I can't with one hand. I tried. Anyways, I asked for Edwards; he's decent enough. Not as awesome as me, but you know…" Santana trailed on, smiling for effect.
"Did you finish the playhouse?" Zoey asked her Mama, too enthused about that piece of information to worry about anything else.
"Almost done, bug. Next time you come around you can already play in it, though."
The kid beamed.
"How did you even know I was here?" Santana asked curiously, shifting her gaze towards the blonde.
"I'm your emergency contact," Brittany deadpanned, still not completely over the shock of the whole situation.
"Right…" The brunette trailed on with a pensive look on her face. "I'll change it later," she added casually and yet resolutely.
"Why?" Brittany asked quickly, suddenly being fully aware again. "Don't," was all she could add.
Santana looked around, trying to spot someone she could trust. This conversation was taking a turn and she thought it better for their daughter not to be around to presence it.
"Hey, Matthews!" The brown-eyed woman called out, spotting a young resident she was familiar with (i.e. someone she knew was quite scared of her; yeah right, like all of them weren't). "Get over here," she added and the blond guy came rushing without second guessing.
"Yes, Doctor Lopez," Ted Matthews said meekly as he reached the three ladies and flashed them all an awkward smile.
"My daughter here would love some candy." Zoey's eyes lit up. "Why don't you be a doll and take her to the vending machines?" Santana said with faux sweetness. "She can have whatever she wants. I'll pay you back later," she finished with a peculiar smile.
"Sure," Matthews replied promptly, smiling at a smiling Zoey.
"After you can also take her to see the new fishes in the waiting area's tank," Santana said and the brown-eyed resident nodded as Zoey's smile broadened.
Brittany helped Zoey get down from the gurney with a curious look on her face. She knew Santana was up to something, especially considering she was clearing Zoey from the scene.
As the resident in blue scrubs took hold of the little girl's hand with gentleness, Santana added with a glare directed to him, "Don't forget, Teddy… Lima Heights Adjacent Pottery Barn rule: you break her, I'll break you, ok?" And she smiled that eerie smile again, which made Matthews gulp hard as he took Zoey towards their first destination with intensive care. He kept thinking he was too young to die.
After Santana and Brittany watched their daughter go, the brunette stated coolly, "I'll put Richard as my emergency contact."
In this brief amount of time she had been thinking of possibilities: Maggie had her hands full already with three kids, Danes was a single carefree man who didn't need (or want) the extra responsibility, her New York friends were too distant… So, Richard was the best choice. Besides, he already spent most of his time in the hospital already… making decisions such as these, and he didn't have kids of his own. Plus, she liked him. As for Brittany, well… She needed to finally start pushing the woman away. For real. Her arm's-length resolve should not be forgotten. She had relapses. She forgot at times. But Santana knew the steps were necessary. Riley had been an excellent step in the right direction. She needed to keep taking them. No matter what.
"Santana…"
"Brittany, please, we've been through this. Just don't…"
"But what if you need me?" Brittany asked with her pout. She hated this. She hated to be pushed away by Santana. And she was starting to hate herself too. This wasn't good.
"I'll be just fine," Santana shot back without missing a beat, not enjoying the dancer's patronizing.
They fell in silence for few seconds. Uncomfortable silence.
"I – I thought it was your brain again," Brittany said barely above a whisper as her heart clenched in her chest. Her eyes fell to the sterile hospital floor, unable to hold the brunette's stare. Every day that passed their situation was harder to handle.
Santana felt bad for Brittany. She couldn't help it… still. The blonde had looked so lost when she first spotted Santana on that gurney... "I'm sorry I scared you," she said softly and in earnest, trying to catch Brittany's fleeting gaze. After a few seconds she succeeded engaging those smoldering blue eyes. "It's –" Santana began to add but was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Edwards, a raven-haired short man in his mid-forties.
"Lopez, I heard you got yourself cut," Edwards said playfully, approaching her gurney.
"So it seems…" Santana quipped in a blasé tone.
"Nice Garcia said she cleaned the wound already. I'll give you some anesthesia and then we can stitch that up nice and good," he stated with a smile and then looking sideways at Brittany the man added, "It's good you brought someone with you. You'll need a ride."
"Nonsense," Santana dismissed it quickly. "I drove myself here and I can drive myself back," she added with a mild scowl on her face.
"I'd like to see you do that with a numb arm," Edwards countered evenly.
"I'll take her," Brittany said a bit too gladly as she looked at Doctor Edwards.
"No, thank you. I'll call someone else," Santana said in a bit of a huff. Hasn't Brittany been listening to anything she said in the previous minutes?
"Who? Who will you call?" The blue-eyed woman asked with frustration, placing Santana under her heavy stare.
Before Santana could answer, though, Doctor Edwards said as he felt the tension rising, "I'll go find a nurse to bring in a suture kit so we can start, ok?" And the man happily fled the awkward scene.
Santana's wheels were turning: Maggie was at her in-laws for lunch, Danes was working, so was Richard, Riley had gone to her dad's for the rapidly approaching Christmas holiday… That only left –
Before the thought finished in Santana's head, Brittany asked sort of unable to contain a bitter tone, "Will you call Riley?" One hand instinctively found solace on her own waist.
Santana answered casually, "No, she went to Alaska for Christmas." At the blonde's surprised face she added, "Her dad lives there." After a beat and a waiting glance from Brittany, the brunette finished, "I'll ask Puck." After two drink dates with Riley at Charlie's, he owed her.
"Puck?" Brittany asked with surprise. She looked a bit livid as well after Santana merely nodded her confirmation. "You're kidding right?"
"Not at all," Santana chimed in with her head held high in defiance.
"What? Are you two friends now?" The dancer scornfully asked, crossing both arms across her chest. Puck was definitely a sore spot for the dancer.
"No, but turns out we do have a couple of things in common."
"You and Puck? Things in common? I seriously doubt it."
"We do."
"Things such as…" Brittany prompted with defiance and petulance of her own, without mentioning disbelief.
"I don't know, Brittany. Misery… hopelessness… to name a couple of main ones," Santana offered promptly before really thinking. Blue eyes held dark chocolate ones and the heaviness was beyond palpable; so, they averted their gaze to quell the feeling.
Taken aback Brittany felt like stepping forward to place a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder, but when she took the first step towards her Doctor Edwards came back with nurse Garcia in tow and broke their moment.
"Ready for me, Lopez?" Edwards asked as Laura placed the suture kit that sat on a silver tray on top of a stand by the gurney's side.
"Do I have a choice?" Santana rhetorically quipped as her legs swung back and forth with anticipation as they hang from the gurney.
As Doctor Edwards put his rubber gloves on Brittany took the time to secure a place near Santana, you know, to see the procedure and aid the "patient".
"Here," Brittany said with a smile, offering her hand to the brunette to take, "let me hold your hand."
"No, thanks," the brown-eyed woman rebuffed the offer with little ceremony and after witnessing the fall of Brittany's smile Santana added less dryly, "I can handle it."
Edwards went ahead after taking a syringe from Laura, who was assisting him, and said to Santana, "I'll numb the area now."
Santana looked the other way when the doctor started to stick the needle inside her gash to do the ministration of anesthesia. Brittany winced and decided to look away as well.
"So, Zoey found the old playhouse?" The dancer asked softly, trying to take Santana's mind away from the unpleasant procedure.
"I know what you're doing," Santana replied mid-wincing, holding the blonde's stare but unable to keep a small smile from taking over her pained features. Brittany simply furrowed her brows and feigned ignorance. "You're trying to distract me."
"You didn't answer my question," Brittany stated with a sly smile.
"Yes, she found it," the brunette replied, conceding as Doctor Edwards discarded the syringe and asked Laura to hand him some instruments.
"We had nice times playing in that house," the blue-eyed woman said tenderly, locking her eyes on warm dark chocolate ones. It still amazed Brittany how Santana's eyes could go from cold to warm in a matter of seconds.
"Yeah, we did," Santana conceded without hesitation.
Both women probably had little recollection of the event. Perhaps just haze images lost in a sea of old, childhood memories. But deep down… both had an idea it had happened. Way more than one time only.
"What should we play?" A seven-year old Santana asked a same aged Brittany as they stood inside a pink playhouse on the green grass of the Lopez's vast backyard.
"We should play house, Sanny," the blonde little girl replied matter-of-factly with an easy grin.
Little Santana, who wore a simple French braid that matched her best friend's – they were in the "matching" phase – couldn't help but grin back at the blue-eyed girl's answer. To Santana Brittany had the most interesting, simple, uncomplicated way of thinking.
"I know that, Britt-Britt," Santana said with the tenderest voice. She could never be snappy with the blonde, unlike with her other little friends from school. "But what should we make believe?" The little brunette added, moving to open the small white window of the house.
"We should make believe we're a family," little Brittany offered, broadening her smile as she took a seat on a tiny chair near a tiny table. "And this should be our daughter," she added gladly, catching a doll that sat on a corner.
"You would be my wife?" The brunette girl asked with a hopeful tone and a sparkle in her warm brown eyes. She was definitely keen on the idea.
"Only if you'd be mine, Sanny," the blonde girl replied just as hopeful without missing a beat. She loved her friend more than she loved any other person in the world, that's for sure.
Santana considered this for a mere second and nothing made more sense to her in the world before. Back then little Santana's train of thought and ideas weren't tainted by what society told her head what her heart was supposed to feel or not. It was only much later that it, unfortunately, happened.
"Sure!" The brown-eyed girl stated with conviction as she took a seat opposite from her best friend. "You're my favourite person, Britt-Britt," she added with a wide grin that only Brittany was privileged enough to know.
"And you're mine," Brittany said while holding out her pinky, which Santana quickly and familiarly held with her own.
"Here goes the first stitch, Lopez," Edwards proclaimed.
"You better not leave me a scar, Edwards," Santana shot back, averting her eyes from the gash. "I wouldn't," she added smugly and the doctor simply shook his head with amusement.
Without thinking Brittany laced her pinky through Santana's, who felt surprised by the action and searched for blue eyes, which looked extremely soft. But after the initial shock and receptiveness, Santana pulled her finger back and she didn't even dare to continue looking at Brittany's eyes because she knew she'd find hurt there.
After a few more stitches Santana looked again at Brittany and said dejectedly, "You should go home, B." The situation was becoming unsustainable. Too awkward, too painful, too… much. "Go home to your wife," the brunette added stubbornly with a defeated tone, unable to pin-point where this was coming from. She just felt so tired…
Brittany sighed and ran a hand through her long blonde locks. "Jenna works on Saturday mornings," the dancer stated softly, but both women knew Santana's remark wasn't intended to mean that. It was meant to signify far more.
Santana shot her a pointed, frustrated look whilst doctor Edwards – and nurse Laura – tried not to listen to their hushed conversation.
This is so hard, the blonde thought. She knew what Santana wanted… and why she wanted it. However, the blonde was having trouble to bring herself around to it. Brittany casted her yes down and said somberly, "I'll go after the last stitch, San." After a beat the dancer pleaded, "Please…" to which Santana reluctantly nodded just as somberly.
Santana entered Brittany's dance studio that Monday afternoon with her red wool overcoat peppered by little snowflakes. God, Ohio winter is so annoying; the brown-eyed woman thought. Her thoughts were quickly erased as Ally came into view from behind the small reception desk. Seeing the brunette woman the teenager smiled whilst the former matched it.
"I see you're on duty," Santana stated playfully, coming to a stop in front of the desk with a large brown envelope on hand.
"You know how devoted a sister I am," Ally shot back, widening her smile. Both Brittany's sister and mother helped her out taking the role of receptionist when they had the chance. The blonde dancer certainly couldn't afford one employee full time.
"Oh, that I know," the brown-eyed woman said in the least convincing tone.
"You doubt me, Santana Lopez?" The blue-eyed teen asked with an exaggerated gasp as she placed one hand on her chest for dramatic effect.
"Completely," Santana replied before laughing out loud. Allison soon joined her.
"Britt in?" The brunette added after their laughter died down, removing her gloves and stuffing them in her coat's pocket whilst juggling the envelope. It was much warmer inside the studio – thank God for heating – and she was beginning to feel it.
"Yeah."
"Is she teaching?"
"No, actually she just finished a class. She has a thirty minute break now. I went in there five minutes ago and, apparently, she was warming up to work on some choreography during her break."
Santana nodded her comprehension and said, "Ok, I'll go back there to talk to her."
"Cool," Allison said evenly. "Let her know that I'll be off for a snack at home, ok?" After a beat, she added with a smile, "Wanna join me? Mom baked cupcakes…"
"Very tempting, but I have to pick up Zoey in a few," Santana replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I had coffee and homemade scones with you guys last week. I'd hate to abuse Annie's hospitality."
Leaning further on the high-leveled reception desk, Ally quipped with a playful smile, "Ah, you've never had a problem with that before... Why start now?" The remark earned her a light, playful punch on the arm by Santana.
"Watch it, kid…" Santana trailed on, unable to keep a smile off her face as the teen busied herself with putting her winter coat on. The brown-eyed woman's gash throbbed a bit and she unconsciously touched her forearm on top of the coat's soft sleeve.
"By the way, you're going to my graduation, right?" The blue-eyed girl asked absentmindedly whilst putting her gloves on behind the desk.
"For the fifth time: yes," the brown-eyed doctor replied with a mock eye-roll. Santana hadn't been feeling all that comfortable attending Pierce related events lately, that's why she knew the teen was making sure to check, double-check, triple-check…
"Good," Ally said offhandedly while buttoning her coat. After a beat she added in a somewhat teasing tone, "Will you be bringing your new girlfriend, Riley?"
Santana's eyes widened, but she shot back with no hesitation as she lifted an eyebrow, "A) This is none of your business; B) Riley is out of town; and C) She is not my girlfriend." Santana then glared at Ally.
Allison smiled and said, "Just so you know, your glares don't work on me since I was, uh… well, they never really did. As for 'c', she might as well be considering how Britt talks about her." And she shot the brunette a mischievous grin.
"Well, she isn't; and Brittany shouldn't be talking about her at all," Santana said with exasperation. "We shouldn't be talking about her at all. This conversation is officially too weird," she added awkwardly.
Ally shook her head and replied candidly, "You know what? You and my sister are the ones that are weird." The teen may joke to lighten things, but she felt a great deal for this mess of a situation her sister and ex-sister-in-law found themselves in. She didn't understand it at all. And people still wondered why she liked being a single gal.
The brunette desperately needed a subject change. "Still very excited with Columbia?" Santana asked with interest and a genuine happy smile. "How are the moving plans coming along?"
"'Yes' and 'fine', respectively," Allison stated briefly, matching the brunette's smile. "If you want to know more you'll have to follow through on your lunch offer," she added with a smirk as she finished with her coat and grabbed her scarf nearby.
"Please…" the brunette scoffed with uncanny ability. "We had several lunches after that. I know a ploy to taste Rosa's food again when I see one."
Flashing the brown-eyed woman a coy, tight-lipped smile, Allison said with several nods, "Busted! Well played..." Santana smiled smugly and then the teen proceeded to wrap the scarf around her neck as she added in a serious tone, "As for Columbia –"
Santana cut her off whilst unbuttoning her coat before the teenager had the chance to finish her sentence, "If you thank me one more time I'll scream." The brunette grinned playfully and Ally matched it. "Like I said, the merit is all yours."
"Th –" Allison stopped before she could finish and amended with a smile, "See you around, San."
"See ya, Ally," Santana replied as she waved the blue-eyed teen goodbye.
Santana made her way towards the back of the room, undoing her white scarf and letting it just hang around the back of her neck. When she reached the wide window the brunette could see Brittany stretching her body in front of the mirrored wall inside the classroom. It always amazed her how flexible the dancer was. As she watched the blonde beauty, purposely without being noticed, the brown-eyed woman couldn't help the wistful smile that took over her features without as much as a request. After a few seconds Santana saw the dancer move gracefully towards a small stereo and put some music on. The first few piano notes could be heard faintly by the brunette through the classroom's wall as Brittany began to move in sync with it, and Santana stealthily made her way inside the room to watch and hear better. She stood by the door completely unnoticed as the first beautifully melancholic lines started to reverberate in the room.
Who is to say who wins or who loses?
I sing to myself at the end of the day when I know what the blues is,
And all my mistakes have become masterpieces,
I was born in the goodness of grace,
And because of faith, because of courage, because of forgiveness,
All my mistakes have become masterpieces…
Santana leaned against the wall near the door with the envelope in hand and watched with utmost interest and attention as the blonde worked the room with grace, moving with emotion and ability as her body seemed to encapsulate the melody with remarkable ease. The dancer made it look like everything was effortless and natural and, no matter how many times Santana had watched the woman dancing before, it never ceased to render her awestruck.
And there comes a time,
You must stay in the moment while your heart's still bleeding,
And there comes a time,
When you must walk away though your heart's still beating…
The brown-eyed woman kept watching as Brittany flung her body around like she was a ragdoll, throwing herself down to the floor, hugging her own body and standing straight up again with perfect posture and poise… She had never seen Brittany put so much emotion in her movements before, and she had seen the dancer perform a lot. Santana couldn't help but notice the lyrics and, perhaps she was being presumptuous, but she couldn't help but think it was about her, about… them. It briefly amused Santana their latest situations involving songs but, come to think of it, if she found solace in music it was only natural that Brittany would do the same. They always had been passionate about it.
And there comes a time,
You must stay in the moment while your heart's still bleeding,
And there comes a time,
When you must walk away though your heart's still beating…
The intensity of the words and the rawness of the voice singing them kept touching Santana most deeply. The vision of that dancing goddess in front of her wasn't doing much to alleviate those feelings as she felt hypnotized by those movements and couldn't help but take care to see which way the dancer's golden blonde locks went whilst thrown in the air with no hesitation. She always avoided trying to see things through Brittany's point of view when their messy predicament was concerned. Santana Lopez was never the selfless, empathetic sort; but, at that instant, she let herself be taken down that bitter lane. However, still didn't matter. They were where they were, and there was nothing she could do to change that regardless of some stroke of full awareness.
Who is to say who wins or who loses?
I sing to myself at the end of the day when I know what the blues is,
And all my mistakes have become masterpieces,
All my mistakes have become masterpieces.
As the lines of the song came to a finish and Brittany executed her last set of driven, rapid twirls around herself, her blue eyes caught sight of Santana's figure leaning against the wall by the door. Said unexpected sight caught the dancer by extreme surprise and she wound up losing her balance mid-twirl and falling to the floor with a thud. Brittany was shocked. Had Santana been standing there the whole time? Watching her in her most vulnerable state? Hearing the honest words that matched her disposition so well, but words that she would never be able to utter out loud considering where they currently stood in their lives? She felt flustered and embarrassed as she watched the brunette woman coming her way with a poker face in place, and heard with uncanny vividness the sounds made by the heels of her knee-high boots that echoed through the ample, bare classroom space as they collided against the hardwood floor.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you," Santana offered genuinely as she towered over the blonde. A tiny smile seemed to be playing at the corners of her lips.
"It was nothing," Brittany replied promptly as she looked up at the brunette, not wanting to stay on that topic for long. "What are you doing here?" She added a bit out of breath from the routine, trying hard to change the subject as she forgot the fact that she was still sitting on the floor.
Santana decided to ignore the question as she kneeled down in front of Brittany, placing the brown envelope on the floor beside her. Seeing the brown-eyed woman's action Brittany felt uncomfortable and decided to stand up, but Santana placed one hand on her shoulder to prevent her from doing that. She looked into dark brown eyes with curiosity.
"You'll get a cramp," Santana stated simply, removing both of Brittany's tennis shoes one by one with gentleness. The dancer let Santana do her thing after nodding her understanding. The action was very familiar to both of them. The brunette had been more than used to help the blonde with dance-related injuries as well as preventing them throughout their careers as dancer and doctor.
As Santana removed the last shoe she couldn't help but notice how Brittany was able to work dance clothes and freakin' legwarmers like no other individual she ever came across with. The brunette grabbed one of Brittany's ankles and held it a bit up in the air. The contact of cold hand with warm ankle sent electricity through both women's bodies.
Keeping the tight hold on the ankle with one hand whilst pressing on the top half of the plant of Brittany's foot with the other, Santana said with a sheepishly smile, "Sorry about the hand. It's cold outside."
"Your hands are always cold," Brittany replied with a knowing smirk as she rested her upper-body's weight on her hands that were palm down to the floor by each side of her body.
It was true. Santana's hands – and feet, for that matter – had always been freakishly cold. No matter if it was winter or summer. Brittany always used to joke that even in that aspect they complemented each other. She warmed the brunette up on winters and Santana cooled the blonde down on summers. Brittany's first few months with Jenna were particularly unsettling. She felt like she would sweat out her whole body's liquid under the covers. Eventually she got used to it… but the distinction always plagued her head at bed time.
Santana merely matched the dancer's knowing smirk as she proceeded working her magic. "Working on some choreography, huh? I didn't think you'd have such requests around here," the brunette said with interest, holding those blue orbs.
"I don't," Brittany answered flatly, not enjoying the subject being brought back into play. "I do it for myself, you know, to challenge me," she added briefly, hoping Santana would sense her being uncomfortable with the topic.
"Choreography always was your favourite part of the job," the brown-eyed woman stated softly with confidence, not looking up from the task at hand: the dancer's feet. If there ever was a subject she mastered, that subject was Brittany. "You must miss it," she added, looking up to find those piercing blue oceans paired with a tender pearly-white smile.
Again, Santana knew her too well. "I do," Brittany confirmed with a morose nod, happy that Santana had let her off the hook.
"For what is worth, I thought your dance was… gorgeous," Santana said genuinely, locking eyes with Brittany as she smiled sweetly at her.
Even though her face was already flushed from dancing, Brittany couldn't hide a blush from Santana's trained eyes. The brunette's opinion still took precedent over anyone else's in the world for the dancer. So, Brittany coyly returned the smile and tried to change the subject to cut the building tension that spread through the air around them.
"How is your arm?" She asked with concern, averting her gaze to the work Santana was doing on her feet.
Santana shrugged and replied offhandedly while rotating one of Brittany's foot 360º, "It throbs every once in a while, but it is fine." After a silent beat she added, "Oh, almost forgot, Ally asked me to tell you she went home for a snack."
"Ok," Brittany said absentmindedly, more interested in watching Santana and feeling her hands on her legs. It felt undeniably nice. As an afterthought the dancer said, "You never did answer my question."
"Which one?"
"What are you doing here?" Without missing a beat, Brittany trailed on with a smile, "Not that I mind a visit from you..."
Was that flirting? Santana thought, but quickly swatted the thought away. It did her no good whatsoever.
Santana gently placed Brittany's pale leg on the floor and stood up again with the envelope in hand. The blonde missed the contact instantly. So did the brunette.
"Right," Santana trailed on after shaking her head. Looking down at Brittany who stayed sitting down the brown-eyed woman added evenly, "You can stand up now." And then she outstretched her hand to Brittany, who grabbed onto it without second thought.
They came face to face with one another and it felt so good to hold on to each other that they simply stayed like that for a while, blue eyes on brown ones as the skin on skin contact made their palms tingle and burn, despite the coldness of Santana's hand.
Coming to her senses, Santana dropped the pale hand gently and, after clearing her throat, she added while handing Brittany the envelope, "I came to bring you these."
"What is it?" The blonde asked curiously while opening the brown envelope.
"The papers for the duplex," the brown-eyed woman volunteered before Brittany even had the chance to pull them out. "Gates – Jimmy's friend – managed to sell it," she added softly, noticing the mood shift in those blue eyes. Why did she have to notice these things?
"Oh," Brittany nearly sighed, looking from the papers in hand to Santana's eyes in front of her. That had definitely been a surprise. She didn't know what she was expecting, but that was definitely not it. "So soon?" She added in a low tone.
Santana took the question as rhetorical and said instead as she tried to keep any emotion from her voice, "All that's left is for you to sign them. I already did. When I get home I'll fax it over and he'll wire us the money." And then she took a pen out of her coat's pocket and handed it over to a distraught Brittany.
The blonde took the pen and kept staring blankly at the papers, after a silent while she looked up at Santana and asked, "Who bought it? You know?"
"I have no idea," the brunette replied honestly with a shrug as she held the dancer's gaze. After a moment she added bitterly, "Probably a couple of young schmucks in love who think they'll live happily ever after." She sneered. "Like that even exists," the brown-eyed woman scoffed.
"You don't mean that," the blue-eyed woman countered without missing a beat, not dropping the brunette's cold stare. Santana had always been a cynical but she was never this… this jaded. It broke the dancer to think she had done that.
"To some extent I do," Santana shot back in earnest, unwilling to back down.
Awkward silence took them over as their thoughts turned an introspective corner.
"That place…" Brittany began with emotion laced on her tone of voice as she fussed with the pen's cap. "That place was perfect," she concluded after a sigh.
Both knew she wasn't referring to the place alone. Frankly, that duplex might as well had been a shack that the blonde would have found it perfect. Because they were together. Because they spend their days inside it, creating and sharing happy memories that now only seemed to be that: memories.
Santana nodded her agreement several times, and then she let out wistfully and bluntly, "Yes, it was. It was perfect…" Short pause as she looked at the floor, unable to hold Brittany's gaze anymore, "…while it lasted."
The dancer felt the sting of the words. Truthful as they may be. Blue eyes searched for brown ones and when they met it felt heavy and raw. But both held it. Feeling something was better than feeling nothing at all, right? Better than to feel numb.
Santana broke the silence as she said softly, "You have to sign them."
"Right," Brittany replied evenly, trying to keep her voice from cracking.
"Here," Santana said, turning around so the blonde could use her back to sign the papers properly.
Brittany signed beside all of Santana's signatures and stuffed the papers back into the envelope. Then she handed it along with the pen back to Santana.
A mourning sensation took over both women as they stood in front of each other not exactly sure on what to say next.
"I have to go now," Santana mustered up enough willpower to say. "Gotta pick up Zoey in a few…"
"Right…"
The brunette smiled a half smile, which was returned by the dancer, and turned around to walk away. As she did so, Brittany called out to her, "Hey, San!"
Turning around instantly, Santana replied, "Yeah?"
Brittany wanted to say something. She wanted to get something out of her chest, something that was suffocating her, even if she didn't know exactly what. Instead she asked softly, "You're going to Allison's graduation, right?" That dance was becoming very familiar to her.
"Sure, Britts," the brown-eyed woman replied without hesitation.
"Great," Brittany said with a wider smile. "I'll save you a seat," she added and Santana simply nodded before leaving the classroom.
Brittany looked on… still feeling the weight on her chest. Something was certainly not right.
Brittany sat on her living room sofa with Jenna by her side as they watched television in comfortable silence. Zoey had gone home with Santana earlier. The dancer's day had been eventful. Ally's graduation was the theme of the day and everything ran smoothly and joyfully. Santana went, which made her happier than it ought to, even though the brunette arrived later than everybody else and wound up not taking the seat Brittany had reserved for her, which made her sadder than it ought to, even though she knew Santana would avoid seating near Jenna like the plague. The brown-eyed doctor decided to stay in the back of McKinley's auditorium instead, the blonde couldn't help but notice since Zoey spotted her Mama instantly and went running to join her. The sight of Santana wolf whistling when Allison's name was called on stage to get her diploma, and Zoey trying to mimic the brunette's action was one of those images she knew would never be erased from her brain, and it brought a broad grin to her face at the moment. Throughout and after the ceremony Brittany couldn't help but think back to her high school graduation day. To their high school graduation day. In fact, even as she sat on that sofa those memories would not let her be.
Brittany sat in her cap and gown, leaning against one of the walls of McKinley's auditorium with Santana's yearbook open in her lap and a sharpie in her hand as graduates and family members walked up and down around her. Her girlfriend had written something unbelievably sweet for her and she was having a hard time trying to come up with something that could convey everything she felt. She had always been terrible with words. All her essays turned out worse than something written by a fifth grader… if she was on a good day.
Anxiously the blonde teenager tapped the sharpie against the yearbook. Santana was taking pictures with her folks and would be coming back in no time. Her own parents would come looking for her in no time. It was too much pressure. Thinking hard all that came to her head were Santana's words… Nobody had ever said sweeter words to her before. Especially the ending ones.
I just… I just like to see you happy.
I just want you to be happy, B. Always.
I can't wait for New York with you!
– S
Brittany sighed for the umpteenth time and decided she should just keep it simple. Santana always said she liked that about her. How she always said what she felt without any "bullshit", unlike most people the brunette knew. Pulling the sharpie's cap with her teeth Brittany started writing her message. A few seconds later she was done. An unsure smile graced her lips as she hoisted herself up and went looking for her girlfriend.
Santana, who was talking to her parents, spotted her girlfriend from afar. The sight instantly brought a smile to her lips. God, she loved Brittany!
Approaching the three people, Brittany asked politely looking at Martin and Nina Lopez, "Can I steal San for a bit?"
They nodded just as politely whilst the blue-eyed teenager took Santana by the hand and walked with her cap-and-gown-clad girlfriend through a sea of people to stop near a corner.
Still holding one of Santana's hands Brittany handed her the yearbook that was securely gripped by her spare hand. The brunette teen grabbed it with a smile. God, she loved Santana! And that dimple on her left cheek would certainly be the death of her one of these days.
"You're done?" Santana asked with a smile that clearly translated her adoration for the blonde.
Brittany nodded, matching that smile. "Read it. It is next to Tina's," the blue-eyed teen said, feeling a bit anxious all over again.
Santana eagerly opened the yearbook and went to the page she knew her girlfriend was referring to: one in the back. Brittany began to unconsciously bit her bottom lip as she watched the brown-eyed girl read what she had written. All she could think was: please, God, let her like it. Let her understand everything I meant by that.
She watched Santana closely and as her girlfriend mouthed every word with no sound, Brittany could register the shift in those dark chocolate eyes she knew so well, those eyes she loved so much. When Santana looked up with the sweetest smile on her face and a look in her eyes that could only be described as bewitching and intoxicating, the blonde knew she had liked it.
Santana stepped forward slowly and laid a feather kiss on Brittany's cheek. After full lips severed contact with her skin, the blue-eyed girl couldn't help but bring her hand up to touch the patch that had been just kissed. A wide, foolish smile took over her lips right then.
"I loved it, Britts," Santana said in that husky tone of voice of hers that managed to make the blonde's legs weak ten out of ten times. "It's perfect," she added with a foolish grin of her own spread across her face.
Brittany blinked back the memories as Jenna laughed of something that was showing on the television. Brittany laughed as well just to keep up with her wife, she had no idea what show was even playing on the device. Somehow those few simple words she had written all those years back still rang true, oh-so-true… And they haunted her. Now more than ever.
YOU make me happy, S.
The happiest I've ever been. The happiest I'll ever be.
That's all there is to it, really.
Love you more than you'll ever know…
– B
She still remembers how she underlined the first "you" twice and how she dotted every single "i" with a heart. In fact, up until this day, she always dots them with hearts. Santana mocked her constantly about it, even though the brunette always smiled while reading them. Brittany felt awful seating on that sofa. How did they come to this? Why her? Why them? The blue-eyed woman still also remembers that day… That one day filled with the two of them professing to each other their endless happiness, and then their love, and then it was all ambulance sirens and broken hearts. Brittany thought bitterly about how their future was lost that day… as easily and irretrievably as a tennis ball at twilight. She looked sideways at Jenna and midst all those thoughts she knew for sure that she would have to work harder on that. Much harder.
Phew... that was a long, eventful one! Hope you appreciated and review if you will :D
Next stop: Christmas, because nothing brings out repressed emotions and stuff like a major holiday lol