Chapter 16
Brittany Pierce had never spent much time dwelling on anything in her life. She figured there wasn't much use in it. Everything happened for a reason. Like, for instance, when Ace Holt threw her lollipop in the sandpit in 1st grade because she was a stupid girl. Or when her best friend stopped being her friend when she came out to her at a sleepover. Or when she missed the flying cheerleader in a faulty basket toss and the girl spent the first semester of their senior year in a neck brace. Or blowing out a knee and dashing all her dancing aspirations. Or, more recently, like meeting the woman of her dreams. Which is great, except she lived on the other side of the country.
It's all for a reason.
For most of those things, Brittany didn't even need to know the reason. It just was how it was. The thing with Santana was different, though. No, her relationship with Santana was another story.
Meeting Santana was a life-changing event. Being with her was everything she thought it would be. Everything. It was even better than she imagined. But, leaving Santana in New York was agonizing. And now she felt like she was living from phone call to phone call. When the wait between the phone calls was too long, she felt like she'd go insane.
It was one of those times, as she was cuddled under the sheets on her bed staring at her phone. She'd been willing it to ring for the last two hours. Or buzz, buzzing would be okay. Chiming would work. Vibrating. Chirping. Any of those. The longer she stared, though, the less happened. Santana said she'd call as soon as she could. Logically, she knew that could mean anytime. In her head, though, all sorts of scenarios were playing out. What if Santana was hurt? What if Santana didn't want to to call? What if Santana changed her mind? What if Santana met someone else? What if Santana was arrested for trying to cover up a Rachel Berry murder? The waiting was torture.
"Okay, I'm officially worried," she heard Sam say.
She looked up to find her best bud and roommate leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "Why? Do you think something happened?"
"About you, Britt," Sam told her as he made his over to sit on the bed. "I'm worried about you. You...aren't yourself."
"I'm me." She sat up in her tangled sheets, but still clutched her phone tightly.
"You haven't been you in three weeks. You haven't had your usual rainbow sprinkles on your double scoop ice cream cone. You haven't rearranged the refrigerator poetry magnets. You haven't even picked out a Halloween costume for Lord Tubbington. It's very un-Brittany-like."
"Tubby doesn't want to do Halloween. He's dieting. He said he felt like a chubster in his pumpkin costume last year and all the neighborhood kids kept calling him Garfield."
"Okay, that's probably a good thing. That he's dieting," Sam clarified. "But that's not really the point, Britt. I mean, you were so happy when you got back from New York. Now, you just seem sad all the time."
"I'm happy!" she defended. "I'm really happy."
"Are you sure? This isn't like the time your face started confusing your emotions, is it?"
"No. I'm happy. I'm sad that Santana's not...here...or I'm not there." She sunk down in bed and she consciously tried to keep her lips from turning down. "I am sad that this is so new and we're so far away from each other. I just wish we were together."
"But you are together."
"Yes. Just not together together."
"Have you talked about that yet?" Sam asked curiously. "Is it an exclusive together?"
"Yes," Brittany said slowly. "Of course, it's exclusive."
"And you're really okay with that? Not dating anyone else?"
Brittany shifted her eyes, what a dumb question. "Yes," she said again.
"Because the two of you could be together, and plan to see each other, and talk to each other, but...I don't know, date other people for now."
Brittany turned to look at him, "Why would we do that?"
"Because she lives in New York, Brittany."
"So."
"So?"
"So!" Brittany bit her lip in frustration. "It doesn't matter where she is. Or where I am. We're talking about a woman that I couldn't get out of my head from the first time I heard her speak. The first time I heard her, Sam. Even though she was a total bitch and kind of mean. We're talking about a stranger I texted because I had to, even though I would never do that. Someone that I agreed to stay with before I had ever met her, because I know her. I just know her and I know this is the right thing for us." She really believed that. She did. She just wished that it felt more concrete. She looked back over at Sam who seemed to be studying her, "Has any of that ever happened to you?"
"No," he told her with a quick shake of his head.
"Well, it has to me," Brittany informed him. "You wouldn't understand. You would never wait three months to sleep with someone without getting bored."
"This isn't about me, though," Sam argued.
"No, it's not. It's about me and Santana. I don't know how to explain it to you, Sam. And I don't mean like the other things I don't know how to explain like relativity or how they get those ships in bottles."
Sam thought it over for a long time before he replied, "Giant tweezers?"
"Possibly," Brittany shrugged.
"So you're serious about her?"
"I've never been more serious about anything," Brittany answered firmly.
Sam smiled, "Well, congratulations, Brittany. But, you still can't just sit around and wait for her to call."
"I'm just anxious," Brittany said while checking her phone to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "She said that she'd call as soon as she could get away from Rachel. That was hours ago."
"Hm," he hummed in disapproval. "Have you talked about what you're going to do? I mean, this is really long distance."
Brittany sighed, "I'm a little afraid to."
"Why?"
"Because I think that she'll think that I'm asking her to ask me to move and I don't want to ask her to ask me. I want her to ask me on her own. Because I would totally move if she asked me, but I don't want her to feel pressured or feel like it's moving too fast."
"You don't think it's already moving too fast?"
"No." Brittany was annoyed with him. "It can't happen for a while anyway. I have to finish with Whoopsies first."
"What if she never asks?"
"She will," Brittany told him confidently. "I know she will."
He looked like he was going to ask something else, but Brittany's ringing phone cut him off. She gave Sam a look and pointed toward her bedroom door. He took the hint and got up to leave. She waited until he closed to door to answer.
"Hey gorgeous," was the greeting she received.
"Hi."
"I'm so sorry it took so long to call back."
"That's okay," Brittany replied, already feeling better at just the sound of Santana.
"No, it's not. It was way too long without hearing your voice."
"For me, too. But, I know you're busy."
"I'm not busy anymore. I'm all yours now." When Brittany didn't reply she asked, "What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing."
"You sound sad," Santana said after a pause.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Brittany rolled her eyes. "I'm happy."
"Is your voice confusing those emotions again, babe?"
"No. I'm happy." Brittany shifted further into her sheets. She curled her blanket around her arm and tucked herself in.
"Okay, if you say so," Santana sounded unconvinced.
"Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Are you happy?" Brittany asked shyly. She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it. She needed the confirmation. "With the arrangement?"
"With us?" Santana asked. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Sam just said something-"
"What did Sam say?"
"That maybe we should be dating other people, too."
"No offense to Sam," Santana huffed. "But that's just stupid."
"So you don't want to do that?"
"No, Britt. No. I want to date you. Just you. Only you."
"But, it's not like we're actually going to be dating, Santana," Brittany told her. "Not with you there and me here."
"Alright, no. We're not technically going on dates together. But I want to be with you. It's like we're together with intent to date...eventually."
"Eventually." Brittany almost choked on the word. She didn't like it. It was much too open-ended.
"We're going to get there," Santana assured her. "In the mean time, let's not do that thing where we listen to our friends. Even when they're trying to help, okay? This is about us and if something's not right, you can tell me. We'll talk it out."
"Okay."
"So everything is...right?"
"As right as it can be, I guess."
"I know it's hard," Santana said. "It's hard for me, too. I don't know how to do this. It's completely new. Most of my relationships have been all about physicality, so this...we'll have to both learn how to be together without being in the same place. It's going to take some time. And patience, which I'm not very good at. But, I'll get better. I want to. You're so worth it, Brittany Pierce."
Brittany smiled at her girlfriend's ramble, "How are you still single?"
"I'm not," Santana answered quickly. "Remember? On my couch. You decided we were together now. You're stuck with me."
"I mean, how were you?"
"I don't know..."
"That answer sucks," Brittany said with little room for argument.
"Yeah, okay," Santana clucked her tongue. "I work too much. Rachel's a full time job on top of the full time job of managing her...crap. Let's see, oh, I'm kind of a bitch. And honestly, I wasn't really looking for a relationship, because I was a little hung up on an ex."
"Quinn?"
"Yeah."
"Should we talk about that?" Brittany asked.
"Do you want to talk about that?" Santana questioned quietly. "Because we can if you want, but there's no pressing reason to. I'm over that and her and everything that happened in the aftermath. I have been for a while."
"So monthly lunches weren't dates?" Brittany was really curious to know. "Or just reasons to see her?"
"Dates, no. She's married and has a kid. Reasons to see her? Maybe for a while, yes. But, at the end, I hated them. You were the first good reason I had to stop putting myself through that."
"Good."
"Good?"
"I'm glad that you and Quinn didn't work out."
"I'm fucking ecstatic that it didn't work out with Quinn," Santana laughed. "So what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Relationships. You haven't told me a lot about any."
"Because there's not a lot to say about them. I told you about my first girlfriend from high school. I loved her and our breakup was really hard and took me a while to get over. I dated another girl for a year or so while I was still dancing. Her name was Cee Cee and she was great. But, we broke up when I transferred to U Dub."
"And since then?"
"A lot of first dates, a lot of dead ends, and one magical wrong number that led to you."
"The best wrong number ever."
"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "God, you were so sexy."
"I thought I was bitchy."
"You were! But, your voice," Brittany sighed. "So sexy. I thought, 'this woman is such a bitch, but she sounds absolutely beautiful.'"
"No, you didn't," Santana laughed. "You thought I was horrible."
"Horrible in a really hot way, though."
"I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you," Santana told her. "It's all fucking Puckerman's fault. Although, I probably wouldn't have answered if I didn't think it was him. So, maybe I should thank him next time I see his skanky ass."
"Tell him thank you for me, too," Brittany said. "And you've more than made up for being a bitch the first time. You're amazing, Santana."
"Aw," Santana replied. "Britt..."
"It's true."
"I...think you're amazing, too. And smart and hilarious...and...I...like you so much."
Brittany let that sink in. "I like you so much, too."
"Yeah...," Santana cleared her throat.
"Yeah."
The conversation stalled and hung there, which almost never happened between the two of them. Brittany let thirty seconds pass, then a minute. She pulled the phone away just to make sure Santana was still on the line. She was about to mention the weather, when she heard a lot of shuffling and finally a long exhale.
"Where are you?"
"In bed," Brittany replied.
"You've been waiting in bed for me to call?"
"Yes."
"What are you wearing?"
"Nothing," Brittany answered immediately.
"Damn, babe, that's really sexy."
It would have been, too. If it was true, but it wasn't. She could totally get away with it, but something made her want to confess all. "Okay, okay, San, I lied. I'm really wearing a t-shirt, fuzzy socks, and my Hello Kitty panties."
"Oh." Santana seemed to be thinking over the possibilities. "Take off the socks, I can work with the rest."
"But, it's cold."
"Briiiittt."
"Okay," Brittany paused. "They're off."
"Are they really?"
"No."
"Fine, keep them on. I've seen you naked, I can imagine it. I have a great imagination when it comes to you being naked."
"Wait!" Brittany all but shouted. "What about you?"
"I've been naked, baby."
"What are you doing?" Brittany asked reaching down to pull the fuzzy socks off and throwing them on her bedroom floor.
"Waiting on you to get naked with me."
"Where are your hands?"
"Sliding down my stomach, inching closer and closer to my-"
"Don't say it!"
"Brittany..."
"You know what happens."
"Britt!"
"Santana, you know I want to have phone sex with you." Brittany checked around to make sure Lord Tubbington wasn't in the room. "But if you say the word, I'm going to giggle and you're going to get pissed."
"I don't understand why it's so funny when I say that."
"I don't know either, it just is."
"Fine. Okay. You want to know what I want to do?" Santana purred seductively.
"Yes, Santana, I know exactly what you want to do."
"No...well, yes...but more specifically."
"What?"
"I want to kiss the freckle."
"You can kiss the freckle."
"I'm kissing the freckle right now."
"I love it when you do that."
"I'm sucking on the freckle."
"Don't leave a bruise."
"What?"
"Don't leave a bruise, San."
"Okay, number one: how? number two: nobody would see it anyway."
"What do you mean nobody would see it?" Brittany was confused. "Are we even talking about the same freckle?"
"Does it even matter?"
"I'm just being realistic," Brittany said seriously.
"Now? This is a good time for realism?" Santana scoffed.
"You said we have to take it seriously because it's the only way we can get it."
"Ugh," Santana complained. "Realistically, you would have already jumped me by now."
"Santana, realistically, you would still be rocking back and forth in a corner and processing our relationship."
"Oh, yeah?" Santana's tone went slightly lower than usual. It was the bitchy tone. "Well, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy. There, laugh it up."
Brittany pulled her covers in tighter and looked over to the newly framed picture of the two of them. Both of them, in the same picture. Together. Smiling and touching and breathing the same air. She remembered what it felt like to have Santana's arms around her, but the memory was fading too quickly. She remembered how great it was to be surrounded by Santana's perfume, but couldn't nail down the scent anymore. She had spent three days with her, that's all. But, she knew three weeks was much too long to be away from her. Unfortunately, there wasn't an end in sight, yet.
Brittany gave her a some time to calm down before saying, "It wasn't funny that time."
"I'm sorry." Santana said softly. "I'm just..."
"I know..."
"I just miss you so much."
"Me, too."
"I know."
"I'm coming back, though..." Brittany tried to sound as hopeful as possible, but still ended the sentence with, "in a couple of months for work."
"That's too long," Santana whined. "I want you here now."
"What about Thanksgiving?" the blonde suggested. "That's just a few weeks away."
"Still seems like forever."
"Yeah," Brittany agreed. She looked back at the picture adorning her bedside table. It was forever. "You could come here. Even next weekend. You could come to Seattle and meet Sam and Tubbs and see the city and my apartment and..."
"I would love to," Santana said. "But I can't next weekend. The Run Joey Run premiere is next weekend. It's going to be a madhouse with Rachel."
"Oh, yeah," Brittany deflated. "Of course."
"I want to do all those things, though, Britt," Santana hurried to say. "More than anything."
"But you can't."
"No, I can't."
That was the loudest 'can't' Brittany had ever heard. It bounced around in her head, off every surface in her room, off the walls. Can't. Can't. Can't.