Chapter Six

It was definitely starting to get colder in Seattle. Brittany had spent most of the day freezing. She should be used to it by now. She'd been here most of her life, but something about this particular year and this particular season was chilling her to the bone. When she arrived home from work, she even made herself a cup of hot chocolate and put on her deerstalker hat. Nothing was warming her up. Sam had even asked her if she had painted herself blue again. For most, that's a strange question to be asked, but not for her.

"You sure you don't want to hit the town with me and the boys?" Sam offered while he was primping in front of the mirror. "You can dance circles around us while we drink ourselves into oblivion."

"As much as I love getting the twin discount at Doubles Dive, I don't think I'm in a dancing mood."

"Hey, if Doubles Debby offers us free drinks to do a Twinsie Striptease, we take them," the guy said seriously. "You promised you wouldn't sell us out."

"And I won't, Sammy," the woman smiled. "I love Doubles as much as the next fake twin set, but just not tonight."

"Okay," he relented. "How's the girl?"

She did everything she could not to smile. She really did, but the mention of Santana made the blush blaze across her face every time.

"That good?" Sam asked with a playful punch to the shoulder. "Go Britt!"

"I don't want to jinx anything."

"That's just superstition, Brittany, you can tell me."

She shook her head, but still didn't shake the smile threatening to take over her face.

"I'm glad." He pulled her into a hug and tugged the flaps of her deerstalker. "Tell her I said hi."

"Okay."

She ate a quick dinner, she wasn't really that hungry. She pulled out her computer to look at some new designs Artie had emailed her, but she was distracted by thoughts of New York. She checked the clock what seemed like every 30 seconds. Santana's indefinite hours made it tough to predict when she would call. Actually, it made it difficult to predict whether she'd call at all. Brittany got the impression that Santana was completely at Rachel's disposal, no ifs, ands, or buts.

The call she had been anticipating all day finally came after she had sunk into her bed for the night. She had just pulled her blanket up around her neck and burrowed in. The fatigue she felt from the day lifted as soon as those notes from her ringtone hit the air. And now, Brittany's head rested against her phone, which was lying on her pillow. It was just the right angle to not only hear Santana's deliciously smoky voice, but also to see the picture of the same woman on her nightstand.

So, maybe she printed it off. And it's possible that she bought a frame to put it in. And so what if she drew a little heart on it with a purple marker. It's not weird. Sam learned that the hard way, like with a kick to his shin hard.

She stared at the woman on the phone just like she'd been doing for a week now. Brittany just wanted to touch her. That's all. Just once..possibly twice. She had almost booked an $800 dollar plane ticket to New York last night. It seemed like a great idea. She could fly in, meet Santana, hold her hand, memorize the texture of her hair, maybe find out if those lips were as kissable as she imagined, and then hop back on a plane and be back in time for work. She probably would have, too, if Sam hadn't reminded her that the 800 bucks was her rent money...and that it was certifiably insane. So, she had to settle for a long-distance phone call and a rousing game of twenty questions.

"My turn," Brittany declared. "Question number six: Do you believe in fate?"

"Not really," Santana answered. "Doesn't that make free will null and void?"

"So, you think things just happen all willy nilly like?"

"Willy nilly?" Santana laughed. "What in the hell is willy nilly?"

"I don't know, it's just willy nilly," Brittany said. "Crazy-like, wonky, rollercoastery. Pishposhery."

"Now, you're just making up words."

"So, sue me." Brittany adjusted her sheets again. "Answer."

"I think we're all in charge of our own destinies, Britt," Santana replied. "Why do you?"

"I think I like the idea of fate more than willy nilly-ness," the blonde said.

"I would hate to leave it all to pishposhery," Santana teased.

"I'm not sure you used my word correctly there."

"Prove that I didn't and we'll talk," the brunette egged her on.

"Fine..."

"So you believe in meant-to-be's?" Santana asked.

"Is that your question?"

"Nooo, that was fate-adjacent. This is still part of the discussion from your question. I'll announce my question."

"Geez, okay, bossy pants."

"So do you?" Santana repeated.

"Definitely," Brittany confirmed. "I think I was meant to switch 719 to 917."

"I'm so glad that you mixed up those two numbers, I really am," Santana said. "But honestly, you decided to text me the next day. If you wouldn't have done that, I would have just forgotten about it. Free will."

"Nah," Brittany argued with bravado. "You would have never forgotten the silky smooth tones of the chick that called you at 2 am and deemed you Bitchy McBitcherson."

"Probably not," Santana breathed. She cleared her throat and continued, "But you switched the numbers because your parents had just moved to Colorado. An act of their own free will."

"I switched the numbers because I was busy at work when my mom gave it to me and I wasn't listening. You're reaching, San," Brittany stated. "And you honestly think it's a coincidence that you and my parents have the exact same phone number with two numbers switched?"

"Yes, it's the definition of coincidence."

"Why can't you just admit it?"

Santana laughed lightly. "Because it's serendipitous nonsense."

"Are you making John Cusack references?" Brittany asked. "Wait, is that you standing outside my building with a boom box?"

"Is it playing a remixed version of Baby Got Back? If not, then it's another one of your many admirers."

"Hm, probably wasting their time then."

"Oh?" Santana choked a little on the word.

"I told you, I believe in meant-to-be's," the Seattle woman claimed happily.

"You mean to tell me if somebody was outside your window serenading you right now, you wouldn't give them a shot."

"Well," Brittany said slowly, making a show of thinking it over. "I'm pretty comfortable right now. I just got warm, finally, and I've got you keeping me company, so I think I'd pass."

Santana groaned, "You're too cute, Brittany S. Pierce. It's killing me, how cute you are."

"I know," the blonde shrugged. "Your question!"

"First time you got your heart broken?" the New Yorker asked.

"First or worst?"

"Make it a two-parter."

"Oh, easy," Brittany said without even thinking. "First was junior year of high school, I asked a girl to the prom and she turned me down. I was a sad panda for weeks afterward."

"What a bitch!" Santana hissed.

"Isn't that the coffeemaker calling the coffee black?" Brittany called her out.

Santana was getting really good at deciphering Brittany's unusual mix-ups. "I didn't say I wasn't a bitch. I'm saying that was bitchy of her."

"I agree."

"Okay, that was first, what's worst?" the other woman prompted.

"Same girl a couple years later."

"What happened?" Santana asked curiously.

"Uh, she dumped me," Brittany stumbled.

"Why?"

"I'm not sure I want to say."

"I win!" Santana yelled victoriously. "You didn't answer."

"No, no," Brittany stopped her before the New Yorker broke into another chorus of We Are the Champions. "Dammit, I suck for making up that rule. It was the distance. We went to two separate colleges, she couldn't handle the distance."

"That's too bad," the other woman said softly.

"She was super hot, though."

"But not as hot as me, right?" the publicist asked.

"Not even close."

"Alright, Charmer, your question."

"Hm," Brittany's nose crinkled in thought, "Oh, oh, what's your moment?"

"What moment are we talking about?"

"You know, the moment," the blonde thought this should be obvious. "Your moment."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Brittany sighed, "You don't have a moment? When your life changed. The split second that you look back on and say, 'ohh. Yep, that's where it spun in a different direction.'"

"I don't think so," Santana hummed as she considered the question. "You can't really do that, though. It's all decisions and build ups and processes...nobody has one moment that changes their entire life."

"I do."

"You do?"

"I smell a victory, here, Santana Jennifer Lopez."

"Wait, okay. When Rachel finally got the call that she'd been cast in Glee," the brunette threw out desperately. "That's when my life started to change."

Brittany absorbed that for a few seconds, "But that's really Rachel's moment, isn't it?"

"It's both," Santana said, but sounded disappointed in her lack of a clear cut answer. "So, what's yours? Can I ask?"

"You can always ask me anything, San," Brittany said sincerely. "I was a sophomore in college. It was a Wednesday in a ballet class. I did a move that I had done a million times, except this time I heard a pop, my knee gave out, and my career was over. Game changer."

"Shit, Brittany," the other woman muttered. "I didn't know, I'm so, so, sorry."

"Of course you didn't know. Don't be sorry about that," Brittany said, forcing some life into her voice. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved to dance. It was my life. But, I then I realized that I started dancing to have fun, to let loose, to enjoy myself. And, well, then it became a chore. It was a job and it was stressful. I was working my body to the max and I was miserable. I think I was meant to get hurt, so I'd move on without always wondering what if."

"That's an incredibly positive outlook."

"Good things have happened since then, so it's easy to be positive now. I didn't always feel that way."

"Although, you could be in New York right now dancing in some Broadway show," Santana teased.

Brittany's entire being was abuzz with the simple statement. That would really be a game changer. What if she had moved to New York instead of back to Seattle? Would she be with Santana? Would they have even met? She couldn't help picturing herself wrapped up with the other woman instead here, cold, alone, and staring at a glossy 3 x 4.

"Well, thanks, Santana," Brittany said a minute later. "For the first time in years, I really regret that injury."

"Crap," Santana sighed. "I'm so sorry, that was completely insensitive."

"I'm kidding," Brittany smiled. "I do wish I was in New York right now, but it has nothing to do with dancing."

The blonde actually heard Santana swallow after that. She waited awhile in silence and thought she had said the wrong thing until the other woman started talking again.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

"Really? Are you seriously asking that question?" Brittany said in mock annoyance. "That's a terrible 20 Questions question."

"Why?"

"It's not open-ended."

"Sorry," Santana apologized. "You're welcome to tell me all about it."

"Sixteen."

The line was quiet for several seconds before Santana said, "I guess you're not going to, okay."

"It was...short and awkward." Brittany moved on quickly, "Worst date you've ever been on?"

"Oh, okay, let me set the stage. My first year at NYU, I was sitting in the library researching for a paper and I felt someone staring at me. You ever had that feeling?"

"Sure," Brittany answered.

"I turned around, right, and this girl is looking at me with this total 'come hither' expression."

"She was checking you out?" Brittany failed miserably at keeping the slight jealousy out of her voice.

"Yeah, she was totally checking me out."

"What happened?"

"I smiled at her, which she took as an invitation to come talk to me."

"Of course, she did." Brittany rolled her eyes. She didn't like this library girl at all.

"So, she asked me out. I said sure. We met up at a party and everything's fine until I realize this girl keeps staring at me. It was a 'jeepers creepers, lemme see those peepers' situation. It was X-Ray vision type shit. I wanted to put on more clothes the whole night, and that's never a good sign."

Brittany chuckled. "No, that's not usually the goal."

"She ended up being nice enough," Santana continued, "but I couldn't get into it. Besides the googly eyes, she was wearing this fedora that had to be previously owned by her grandfather. Then she took me to a coffeehouse, made me listen to slam poetry and snap. She kept insisting that I buy everything wholesale and asked if I wanted her to score me a Costco application. She wanted to take me home, so I purposely lost her on the subway and never went back to the library. I can't even remember her name."

"That's mean, Santana."

"Hey, it couldn't be helped," Santana defended herself. "It never would have worked out, she was a stare bear."

"Poor Eagle Eyes," Brittany pouted. "She was just appreciating you."

"Yeah, yeah, favorite childhood memory?"

"Well, my dad is a pastry chef, so I spent a lot of time watching him bake. I could never help, because I find recipes confusing, but I was excellent at getting him more sugar."

"That's adorable."

"He still pretends to not get enough sugar, so I can help." Brittany relayed. "Most embarrassing moment?"

"Oh hell," Santana grumbled. "In high school, when I was outed on public access television."

"What?" Brittany questioned. "That doesn't sound good."

"It wasn't," Santana replied easily. "The worst part was my abuela saw it and didn't speak to me for a long time."

"I'm sorry."

"She got over it eventually," Santana told her. "Our relationship was pretty strained for a while, but after Quinn and I broke up, she told me that there was a better girl out there. So, I know she's rooting for me."

"It's awesome that she was able to get past it," Brittany responded.

"What about you? Was your coming out traumatic?"

"Not at all," the blonde laughed. "My parents say that I was checking out girls from a very young age."

"A baby dyke, I like it."

"I was cruising for babes at 4," Brittany boasted. "By the time I actually came out, it was old news to them."

"Should I be intimidated by all your experience?"

"Probably," the blonde said.

"Aww," Santana yawned. "I'm tired, babe, I should probably go to sleep."

Brittany stiffened immediately and sat up in bed. She felt chills shoot down her body which was weird because she had never been hotter in her life. Finally, it hit her that she hadn't taken a breath and pulled much needed air into her lungs. She pressed the phone closer to listen for any sign of Santana adding anything else. She was met by a silence that scared her.

Rewind. Rewind. Rewind.

"Uh..."

Yep, she realized what she just said, too.

"I..."

Brittany licked her lips. Her heart was thumping. Her toes wiggled, half with apprehension and half with blissful excitement.

"Britt..." It was as unsure as Brittany had ever heard her. "Hey..."

"I've never wanted a time machine more than I do right now," the blonde said in little more than a whisper.

"I know, I'm sorry, that slipped out-"

"No!" Brittany exclaimed. "I would go back and relive that over and over again."

The silence strung out across all the miles separating them. As far as it was, they were still tied together somehow. Just like that, in the space of a four letter, one syllable word, Brittany knew it was a matter of 'when' and not 'if.' It felt way too damn good to hear for her not to hear it on repeat.

"I know what my moment is," Santana said suddenly.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"Right now," and Brittany could tell she was smiling into the words.