(an); Your reviews warmed their way into my heart. Thank you so much for the kindness and warmth. It was nothing but fair to write you readers a third chapter.

This might be my favorite so far. You'll see.

(Talk to me at Tumblr, anytime.)

XX

The afternoon before their last show, the head choreographer says he wants to talk to Brittany. He tells her she's doing great; she's perceptive, dedicated, and organized. Brittany nods and grins, not quite sure of what he's trying to say.

Then he says he wants to talk about new opportunities. What are her plans? What does she want to do with her life? Does she want to pursue a career as a choreographer? He knows she has other jobs, but he wants to know which one is her first option.

He's interested in what she has to say; that's something new.

The thirty minutes that follow are thrilling. She has ideas; she has ambition; she has plans. She shows him how much she wants to conceive a performance that will move an audience, how much she could do, if given an opportunity.

When someone calls his name and he has to leave, she has a smile on her face.

XXI

She knows Santana is going to be late because they have been exchanging text messages throughout the day. Her Latin Rhythms class is just over; she chats a bit with a few students before she sees that Santana texted her to say she's almost leaving.

They're about to meet on the subway on purpose. That should mean something. Maybe. Brittany grabs her things and walks to the nearest station. It shouldn't be long before she's on Santana's track. She tries to guess which color Santana will be wearing: navy blue? Black and white, maybe? Grey?

Santana is wearing a grey pantsuit. Score. Her hair is tied up in an elegant bun and her nails are a dark red this time. Brittany smiles at her and sits by her side. "Hey there." Santana says, the corners of her mouth lifting. She's tired: her shoulders aren't so straight and she's blinking slowly, like she's too sleepy to keep her eyes open.

"Hey." Brittany answers slowly, studying Santana. "You look tired." Even though she barely knows Santana, even though they had only been on two dates, even though they kissed only three times, Brittany worries.

"Sometimes I can't sleep." It's all Santana answers, with a tired sigh. There's a long pause. "I'll survive. Don't worry."

Brittany nods. There's a small silence before she opens her purse; she's glad she made one last stop before reaching the subway. "I got you this." She takes a small box and gives it to Santana. "I love them, so I thought you'd like one too." She bites her lip as Santana examines the pink box, curious, and finally opens it.

Santana smiles and looks at Brittany fondly. "A cupcake?" Brittany nods and shrugs, holding back a smile. "You're one of a kind, you know that?" Her hand covers Brittany's for a moment. "Thank you." She says earnestly, and Brittany wishes they could kiss for the fourth time right then. But they can't, not in the middle of a subway train; Santana takes a bite and can't avoid the pink frosting that clings to the tip of her nose.

Brittany laughs softly and wipes it off with the tip of her finger.

XXII

Brittany spots Mike from afar: it's hard not to notice a tall, handsome Asian with those abs and those arms. He's waiting for her just outside the restaurant they always choose for their Thursday lunches.

His smile is the biggest she has ever seen. "Guess who doesn't have to worry about the end of the season anymore? Guess who has just escaped unemployment? Guess who has just signed a two year contract with the company?"

"Oh my God!" She screams and jumps in his arms; they laugh together as he spins her around. "My turn." She slaps his chest lightly. "Guess who talked to the choreographer for a full half hour about what she thinks and what she wants? Guess who won't work part time anymore? Guess who is getting a raise?"

They do the Victory Dougie together and sing an impromptu Celebratory Rap Song.

XXIII

The next time she sees Santana, the tiredness and the melancholy are still there. Santana's wearing black boots that reach deliciously up to her mid-thighs; her shorts are barely there and her loose shirt doesn't compensate for the attention her legs are drawing. She winks at Brittany and sips her wine when their eyes meet.

Brittany frowns as she approaches Santana. "You're still not sleeping." It's not a question; it's a statement of obvious truth. The bar stool Santana is sitting on provides the perfect height difference for Brittany to wrap her arms around Santana's neck and for Santana to place her hands on the back of Brittany's thighs and pull her closer.

Santana looks up into Brittany's eyes and joins their lips without saying anything. She kisses Brittany's lower lip; she kisses Brittany's upper lip; she sighs when Brittany pulls her lower lip between her own. It's wonderful. She's warm against Brittany, and Brittany decides she likes this position, standing between Santana's legs.

"You need to work on that sleeping problem." Brittany runs a hand through Santana's hair; Santana leans into the touch and closes her eyes. Brittany continues, scratching Santana's scalp, massaging her head with the tip of her fingers and enjoying the sensation of soft, long locks of hair around her fingers.

"I do." Santana gives in when she opens her eyes again. "It'll go away eventually, when I'm tired enough."

Brittany shakes her head. "That's called 'avoiding the problem', you know." She tries to give Santana a pointed look, but probably fails. She's not good at that, and Santana's content face when Brittany plays with her hair is disarming enough.

XXIV

The bar's lounge area is even better, with its large, comfortable booths and dim lightening. It feels very private and relaxing, soft jazz playing somewhere in the background. Brittany places her hand over Santana and play with her fingers as she sips her wine.

Her chest constricts at the vision of Santana so tired, so introspective. "Come here." She says, opening her arms; Santana's only answer is a confused frown. "You're exhausted. Come here and lean into me so you can relax." She pats the space between her legs and wiggles her eyebrows.

Santana rolls her eyes with a smile, but does it anyway. "You're just trying to seduce me." She jokes, but still sighs when her back meets Brittany's front and she stretches her legs, head falling back to Brittany's shoulder. "And it's working."

Brittany's arms sneak around Santana's waist. Santana intertwines their fingers as they settle for the perfect fit, her cold hands making Brittany shiver. "I didn't even have to try very hard." She says to Santana's ear, kissing the place just below the earlobe.

Santana hums and closes her eyes. She has this scent, like wood and fresh honey; it envelops Brittany completely.

XXV

"You made the right decision." Santana says; it's funny to see how her expression changes when confronted with a serious subject. "It's what you want for your career, isn't it?" She pauses to look at Brittany; Brittany just nods. "You can't work three part time jobs forever. You have to choose eventually."

"I know." Brittany sighs, playing with Santana's fingers. "But I really like the studio. I've worked there for a while. Today was so sad, when I told everybody I'd leave."

A long silence falls; Brittany thinks about the studio, her friends there and how much she loved it. "You gotta do what you gotta do." Santana answers, squeezing Brittany's hand. "Another career is giving you more room to grow. You should take the opportunities thrown your way."

"You're right." Brittany has a feeling Santana is also talking about herself, but she decides not to comment on that. The wine makes her head light and she has a lot to think about. For a few minutes, Brittany doesn't say anything at all.

The empty wine glasses sit on the small table next to them; Santana dozes off before the waiter finally comes to take it away.

XXVI

Brittany loses track of time, but she knows it's late already. Santana looks peaceful in her sleep; her eyes are closed, her breathing is deep and rhythmic and she still has a hand over Brittany's.

Other clients have already left when Santana's phone rings and wakes her up. She has the most adorable look of confusion on her face when she looks around and yawns before grabbing her phone and answering. She agrees a few times; she runs a hand through her hair and she says thank you before setting it back on the table.

Santana changes positions so she's facing Brittany. "Did I really fall asleep on top of you?" Brittany bites her lower lip and nods, trying to hold back the laughter. "For thirty five minutes?" Brittany nods again; Santana hides her face in her hands for a few seconds before looking at Brittany again. "I just slept in the middle of our date. I'm the worst date in the history of dates."

Brittany shrugs. "I didn't have the guts to wake you up. You looked like you needed it."

"I'm sorry." She says, and she kisses Brittany for the fifth time. Brittany doesn't mind if Santana falls asleep during every single date if she's going to kiss Brittany like this every time, pressing their bodies together, nails scratching the back of Brittany's neck, teeth grazing the inner part of Brittany's lip and the tip of her tongue following the same path.

Santana bites Brittany's lower lip, and then she does it again, until Brittany whimpers in Santana's mouth and pulls her closer. Santana straddles Brittany's lap, grabbing a fistful of blond hair as she deepens the kiss. Their tongues slide against each other and Santana lets out a moan; Brittany wants to hear it again and again.

Santana tastes like Merlot when Brittany sucks her tongue; she's hot to the touch when Brittany's hands find their way under her shirt and roam all over her back, exploring. She's all shallow breaths and tiny whimpers against Santana's mouth; it should be embarrassing how worked up she's getting.

Her hands go to Santana's ass and squeeze, bringing Santana down against her. Santana breaks the kiss to let out another long moan, biting her own lip. "You're very good at apologies." Brittany mumbles, and she feels Santana smiling when they join their lips again.

XXVII

Brittany raises her eyebrows when the BMW arrives. Santana opens the door for her. "Don't worry, I'm not secretly a millionaire. It's not mine; I'm just… borrowing for tonight." The interior is all leather and there's a driver wearing a uniform. A uniform.

Brittany stretches her hand and touches the seat in awe. "Is this real life?"

Santana laughs and closes the door. "Hi Tony. This is Brittany. Brittany, this is Tony." She introduces them, her hand falling on Brittany's thigh with ease.

Brittany scoots forward and places her hands on the driver's seat. "Nice to meet you, Tony. Is Santana secretly a millionaire? Is her father Bill Gates or something?" She asks, and Tony laughs deep but shakes his head. "Is she a spy?" He shakes his head again.

Santana nudges Brittany so she sits properly on her seat again, turning to Santana. Santana's smiling. "See, Tony doesn't tell anyone my secrets. It's in his contract."

"It's true, Miss Brittany. I can't say a word to anyone about what goes on in this vehicle." The driver says with a smile as the car makes a turn.

"Not fair." Brittany whines, resting her head on the crook of Santana's neck as Santana apparently sends a text message. "How am I going to find out things about you if no one can tell me anything?"

"It just makes things more interesting." Santana teases, kissing Brittany's forehead.

XXVIII

Brittany pouts. She's leaning against the BMW; Santana is in front of her, hands on her waist. "You make me feel like a cartoon villain when you look at me like that." She says, taking a step forward and pressing her body against Brittany's.

She starts kissing Brittany's neck; Brittany sighs and melts against her. It's not fair game, not at all. "Are you sure you have to go?" She manages to ask, gripping Santana's shoulders.

"I do." Santana pauses and looks at Brittany. Brittany waits for her to continue; she finally gives in. "I have a plane to catch in three hours and I haven't packed."

Brittany's eyes widen. "And you were out with me when you could be sleeping? Santana!"

"Being with you beats rolling around in my bed for hours failing to sleep." She answers, her face barely a breath away from Brittany's. "And I wanted to see you before I left." It's really hard for Brittany to be mad at her when she does that.

"When will you be back?" Brittany pouts again.

Santana kisses the pout away, lingering on Brittany's lips for a few seconds. "I don't know yet, but I'll be away for a few days." She kisses Brittany one last time, tongue rolling against Brittany's, fingertips clinging to Brittany's hips.