Sugar shows up early Saturday morning to pick Brittany up.
The night before, after hanging up with Santana, Brittany went back downstairs and found her parents. It wouldn't feel right to disappear on them again, so she told them she was going to New York over the weekend. It wasn't a question, but she added, Is that okay?
They were confused.
"Britt, we talked about this," her mom said gently. Her dad just looked worried. "We can't afford it."
"I know, I... I'm using my own money."
(They don't know she already spent it.)
Her mom's eyebrows rose. "Your savings?"
Her dad's frown deepened as she nodded. He slid even closer to the edge of the couch, hands clasped too tightly between his knees. "What's this all about?"
What's this all about?
It's about a decision. About a letter—goodbye, I'm sorry, I love you. About Santana and Kurt and Sam and Sugar. About her family. About being here, because one day turned into more.
This is about her life being changed.
It's too much to explain.
"I need to," is all she said.
They looked nervous, but they didn't argue any further. They told her to be safe. They told her to call.
She heard them whispering as she walked away.
She then called Sugar, thankful that she thought to put her number in Brittany's phone. Sugar didn't waste any time; as soon as she answered the phone, she said, "I've been looking at flights. I would have called, but I forgot to get your number. Which is probably for the best, because—"
Brittany couldn't help but laugh a little at Sugar's rushed voice. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Sugar was more excited than her.
(But that was impossible.)
"You wanna go, right?" Sugar asked quickly.
"Sugar," Brittany said, a hint of a smile in her voice, "do you want to go with me?"
A squeal sounded on the other end, and Brittany moved the phone away from her ear, laughing.
Sugar jumped right back into talking. "Is there a certain airline you wanted to use?"
"Southwest?" Brittany mumbled uncertainly. It's what she used last time.
"Okay," Sugar replied slowly. "I found some with Southwest, but they don't have any non-stop flights, so I was thinking American Airlines. They have one that leaves at about nine... and it's only about an hour, so we'll get there early. I figured you wanted to get as much time in as possible, so I got a late flight back, too."
"That's perfect." Brittany shifted back on her bed, crossing her legs as she leaned forward. Quietly, she asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"There's nothing else I'd rather spend my money on," Sugar said. "Well, almost."
Brittany's smile came back strong, and she could hardly form words. "Thank you."
Finally, she called Kurt since she'd gotten his number, too. She put her phone on speaker, texting Santana at the same time as she and Kurt talked about her going back. It was kind of hard to keep her conversations straight, but she managed to keep from letting anything slip to Santana. She did confuse Kurt a few times, but he seemed to enjoy the conversation and even promised to meet her and Sugar at the airport.
Everyone else is still asleep as she makes her way out to Sugar's car. It takes them a little less than two hours to get to the airport and inside the building to the correct area. They find the self check-in in front of American Airlines and Brittany is more than happy to let Sugar deal with the machine as she stands to the side and watches.
For a second, it reminds Brittany of sitting next to Santana, watching her find a flight to get her back to Ohio.
Sugar looks over, and Brittany realizes she's smiling. Sugar grins back, and, "I've watched Mami do it enough to know—" She cuts herself off with a shrug, and then she's turning back to the screen, tapping away and printing out their boarding passes.
It only takes a few more minutes to check their bags, and then they go through security. With empty stomachs and time to waste, they decide to stop and eat before finding their gate.
Brittany ends up throwing most of her cheeseburger away, the bundle of nerves in her stomach diminishing her hunger, but Sugar happily sips on her ice coffee as they wander down to their gate.
Sugar was sure to check them in as soon as possible, so in group B, they don't have to wait too long. Sugar slips in front of Brittany as they step onto the plane, nodding as they pass the group of flight attendants, and Brittany follows her down the aisle.
They stop two rows in front of the emergency exits, taking seats 9B and 9C on the right side of the plane. Sugar lets Brittany take the window.
Brittany watches as they speed down the runway, as the buildings get smaller as they rise higher into the sky. She smiles, thinking of the couple she sat next to last time, and turns to Sugar. "Are you sure you don't want the window seat?"
"Yeah," Sugar assures, nodding once.
"You get it next time, okay?" Brittany promises.
Sugar nods again. "So," she says, a grin spreading across her face, "tell me about Santana."
At first, Brittany doesn't know what to tell her.
(Or if she wants to tell her anything.)
She already knows how they met, pretty much. She knows they met only a little before her and Brittany met. She undoubtedly knows Brittany cannot help but smile at the thought of Santana; every time she texts, every time she's mentioned.
She doesn't know what Santana has done for her.
She doesn't know how much Santana already means to her.
So she tells her about Kurt. She tells her about Sam. They're the best way she knows to lead into telling her about Santana.
She talks about the rose, and the pictures, and the kiss (but she leaves out Santana's bedroom).
She talks about the date, and the big tree on the hill (but she leaves out the most important part).
She relives her day with Santana, and it's almost as perfect as it was the first time. Her heart beats an extra beat, but she's sure it's not from the plane lifting into the air.
She feels Sugar at her side, and they watch as they travel through the sky.
If she was zealous before, what is this?
Brittany and Sugar follow the crowd through the terminal and down the escalator to the other side. Brittany immediately scans the groups of people. She faintly hears Sugar say something, but then she spots Kurt and heads toward him, pulling Sugar with her.
His face lights with recognition when she gets close enough, and he opens his arms to her. "Brittany!"
Brittany hugs him and then leans back, beaming. "Hey, Kurt."
"It's great to see you," he says, releasing her as he directs his attention to Sugar. "And you must be Sugar."
Sugar confirms, bouncing in her spot. "It's so great to meet you, Kurt."
Brittany's eyes slide over to the guy next to Kurt as they talk. He gives a friendly smile when he notices, his messy blonde bangs bouncing slightly as he nods. Brittany smiles back.
"Oh, sorry!" Kurt exclaims, gesturing toward the guy. "This is Adam."
Sugar looks at him now, too, and he offers his hand first to Brittany and then to Sugar. "Nice to meet you both," he says.
Sugar bounces over to Adam's side as they start walking, leaving the two guys in the middle, and it's not until they reach the carousel for flight 3419 that Brittany remembers they need their bags. She looks over at Kurt, but he just smiles and turns back as the bags begin to slide out.
"What do your bags look like?" he asks.
Sugar jumps into a description of her white leather multi studded suitcase. It looks almost exactly like her purse, so when Adam catches Brittany's eye expecting the same, she just points to it. She looks back just in time to see one of her family's camping duffel bags moving her way.
She steps closer and pulls it off, throwing the strap onto her shoulder. They watch more bags circulate, and it's not hard to spot Sugar's when it comes around. Sugar points it out anyway, and Adam snatches it off the conveyor belt. With both bags retrieved, they look at one another.
"Shall we get going?" Kurt asks. The four of them fall into line as they walk toward the exit, and Brittany notices Adam grab Kurt's hand. She smiles and tries to tune back into what Kurt is saying.
When they get outside, Sugar leads them to the back of an airport shuttle. Just as the door closes and the shuttle starts moving, Adam leans forward and looks at Brittany. "Kurt tells me you're from Ohio, too?"
Brittany opens her mouth to answer, but her brain gets stuck on too. Sugar, now on the edge of her seat, cuts in. "We live in Akron."
"Wait," Kurt says, wide eyes on Brittany. "Akron? Meaning you go to Carmel?"
Brittany frowns at him, confused. She nods and tries to say "yes" but ends up saying, "Too?"
Kurt and Adam both look at her in confusion, but Sugar continues to smile.
"You're from Ohio, too?" Brittany clarifies.
"Kurt is," Adam answers first.
"We all are," Kurt adds. "Me, Santana, Rachel—" he pauses, realizing that Brittany doesn't know anyone besides Santana and himself. "A lot of our friends."
"You'll meet them later," Adam tells her, and grins like it's a warning.
Brittany's anxious—not just about meeting Santana's friends, but with the thought of Santana herself. She can't wait, but she'll have to. "There's just one thing I need to do."
They all look at her, Sugar grinning encouragingly. "What?" Kurt asks.
"Do you know where I can get a rose?"
Adam smiles. "I know the perfect place," he says. Kurt looks at him like he's an angel.
They stop outside the familiar brick building, and Brittany smiles up at it. "Welcome back," Kurt says, placing his hand on her back. He turns to her with a grin and guides her forward.
He doesn't stop at Santana's door, just walks in like it's his apartment—which Brittany's pretty sure isn't true. She glances back at Sugar and Adam before following. Talking about it was one thing, being on the plane was another, but this is something different entirely. She can't believe she's actually in Santana's apartment again.
"Don't be nervous," Adam says, suddenly at her side. "Everyone is friendly, and Santana will be here before you know it."
Brittany mindlessly glances around the living room. There are several people occupying the couch, all looking her way. None of them are Santana.
She can feel her absence immediately. Kurt didn't mention anything about Santana not being here. (Why isn't she here?)
"Everyone, this is Brittany and Sugar," Kurt announces, pointing at them accordingly. "Brittany, Sugar," he continues, gesturing toward the couch, "this is—"
"Puck," says the only guy, smirking from the middle of the couch. "The most important one."
(How is she supposed to surprise Santana if she's not even here?)
"More like least," says the blonde girl to his left.
(Is she even wanted here?)
At a touch to her shoulder, Brittany whips her head to the side, unfocused eyes falling on Sugar. She blinks, following Sugar's gaze back to the couch. Her lips twitch into a smile.
"So you're the girl," the blonde drawls, raising an eyebrow.
Brittany says nothing, but Puck does. "No wonder. You're hot."
The others laugh, and Puck continues to leer with a satisfied grin.
"Don't judge us," Kurt says, guiding Brittany and Sugar to sit on the couch, "he's the reject."
"Reject my ass!" Puck yells. "These losers worship Puckzilla."
"Hell no," the dark-skinned stranger speaks up, moving her legs and scooting towards Puck. "If anyone is worshiped around here, it's me." Her gaze moves to Brittany, ignoring Puck's scoff. "Mercedes, by the way. I figured you two'd be safer over there."
"Thanks," Sugar says, plopping herself down on the end of the couch. Brittany sits in the space between the two of them, while Kurt and Adam sit on the other side of Quinn.
"You're Santana's roommates?" Brittany questions.
"Wow," says the blonde, who Brittany guesses is Quinn. She shares a look with Mercedes.
"She actually mentioned us?" Mercedes asks.
"I saw your fridge messages," Brittany confesses. "She explained."
Mercedes laughs. "Right."
"It's kind of a big deal when Santana brings a girl home," Quinn interjects.
Puck raises an eyebrow. "So you stayed here? Details, please."
"Puck!" the girls—and Kurt—yell.
"What?" he responds. "She won't tell me anything!"
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Nothing happened."
Puck looks back to Brittany. "As far as we know."
"Brittany's all she talks about," Mercedes says. "We'd know."
Brittany can't help but smile as her eyes move around the room.
"Yeah, she talks about you," Quinn sighs.
Adam chuckles. "It's quite adorable."
Everyone goes quiet when they hear voices outside the door, and before Brittany can really process what's going on, everyone is pushing her off the couch.
Go go go.
They're all whisper-yelling at her, and Kurt frantically points toward the bedrooms.
"Santana's room," Adam helps, and as the door creaks open, Brittany understands. She makes a dash for it.
She jumps a little at the bang of the front door, pushing Santana's door with more force than she means to. "Seriously, what the hell?" someone—Santana—barks. Brittany hesitates. "First The Hobbit follows me home and then you're here! You do remember that you have your own places, right? Do you need directions or something?" Instead of going into the room, Brittany presses herself against the wall, peeking down the hall.
"C'mon. You know you love having us around, San," Puck teases.
There's a brief pause. Brittany can see someone standing at the edge of the kitchen. Long, brunette hair is visible over a red dress, but it's the wrong shade. The skin is too light, and the girl is too short—even for Santana.
"Give me a pen, I'll draw you a map," Santana goes on. Brittany catches a glimpse of her as she moves from the other side of the girl. "I just hope you can read it." They both move out of sight.
"Santana, now is not the time for insults," says a firm, unfamiliar voice.
"It's always time for insults," Santana retorts.
"Girl, you best reel Snix back in," Mercedes warns.
The apartment goes silent; Brittany sneaks down the hall, using the wall for protection as she pokes her head out. Mercedes stands behind the couch where the others are still sitting. Santana and the stranger are now standing in front of them, but both are too focused to notice Brittany.
"Don't you want your present?" Kurt teases, his voice high and oh-so-sweet.
Another pause, and then, "What do you mean?"
"Go to your room," Kurt says. Brittany's heart speeds up.
"Wha—"
"Can you just listen for once?" Quinn interrupts.
Santana doesn't say anything else. Brittany takes a step back and darts down the hall, spinning around just inside Santana's room and almost slamming the door shut. She leans her forehead against it and smiles.
The sound of footsteps getting louder, closer, gives just enough warning for Brittany to step back and catch her breath, but before she knows it, the door is opening.
Her heart pounds as the gap grows.
Brittany take a deep breath, and then she's there. "Hi," she exhales.
Everything in Santana's hands drops. She stares at Brittany, slack-jawed, and Brittany bounces on the balls of her feet.
Santana's cheeks tint red, almost matching the color of the dress her fingers clutch. "Brittany," she whispers. "You're—"
Brittany nods. "Surprise."
Santana steps forward, practically throwing her arms around Brittany, who pulls her in, hugging her tight. As soon as she leans back, Brittany kisses her, but at the sound of a whistle Santana leans back, both of their heads snapping toward the hall. Everyone stares at them; Puck sports a big, goofy grin, and Sugar waves.
"We just wanted to—we didn't know ya'll were gonna be makin' out," Mercedes says.
"Of course we did," Puck objects.
Santana scowls, and Quinn and Mercedes herd them all back to the living room. "Fuckers!" Santana shouts after them.
"Hi," she says finally, turning back to Brittany. Brittany laughs, which causes Santana to smile.
"You should have told me you were coming, I would've taken off work and met you at the airport, and then you wouldn't've had to spend your day with the dumbasses out there."
Brittany shakes her head. "I—we wanted to surprise you. Kurt thought it would be suspicious if he asked you to take off. And they're really not that bad."
I like them, she almost adds, but stops herself.
(It's such a strange feeling.)
"Still," Santana says.
"Still," Brittany repeats, wondering if Santana is thinking the same as her.
(I want to spend all the time in the world with you.)
Brittany smiles. "Should we join them now?" she asks.
Santana sighs and leans into Brittany, nodding against her. They stand together a little longer.
"Just in time," the short, brunette girl announces as Brittany walks out of Santana's room. "Dinner is ready."
Brittany's not used to so many strangers—so many nice strangers, ones that she interacts with—but, for some reason, she feels safe here. She walks with the girl.
"Santana speaks very highly of you," she informs, shooting Brittany a smile. "Where is she, anyway?"
"Changing," Brittany says. "She wanted to get out of her uniform."
"Oh, right. They are very uncomfortable." She glances over and adds, "I'm Rachel. We work together."
They stop at the edge of the kitchen, where Mercedes is pulling down plates and Sugar is grabbing silverware. Rachel turns to Brittany. "I hope we talk more very soon," she says.
Brittany nods, and then Rachel joins them, organizing everything on the island.
"That's Berry," Santana mumbles to Brittany as she makes her way to the fridge.
"You're welcome," Brittany hears behind her. Both her and Santana look over as Puck stops next to Brittany.
Santana closes the fridge and puts a six-pack of beer on the counter. "Thanks."
The others appear after him, and Berry—or, Rachel, starts handing out plates. Santana moves in behind Brittany, where a kind of line has formed. "Help yourself," she says.
When Brittany and Santana get around to the drinks, Santana frees two of the beers and hands one to Brittany. And then she pulls it back.
"Wait, fuck," she says. Brittany barely catches Quinn's raised eyebrow before she leaves the room. "Do you even drink?"
Brittany shrugs. "Sometimes. You don't have to give me anything if you don't want."
"No, I just—" She holds the beer out once more, smiling nervously. "Here."
Brittany leans forward and kisses Santana's cheek, and there's an immediate chorused Aww behind them. Santana glares at Mercedes, who just stares back with a playful smirk.
"You guys are too cute," Sugar gushes. Santana's gaze shifts to her. Sugar's grin wavers.
"Be nice," Mercedes says. "You should be thankful, seeing as she's the one that helped your girl get here."
Santana turns to Brittany. "This is Sugar," she says, smiling.
The next hour is mostly filled with Rachel talking, Santana mumbling, and everyone else laughing while they eat. Once the dishes are cleared, however, the energy in the room picks up.
On the opposite end of the couch from Brittany, Adam sits next to Kurt, looking as amused as ever. Like her, he's mostly listening as everyone talks—and argues—and Brittany understands. She's talking even less than him, but still loving every second of it.
(She can't remember the last time she's had fun with people like this.)
"Seriously, Puck?" Santana growls.
"What?" Puck says, his voice higher than usual.
"Stop flirting with her!" Santana yells.
"Okay, okay." Puck holds his hands up, a hint of a smirk still on his face. "I can't help it, sorry. You guys can just go back to your room and... catch up," he says. "We don't mind."
Santana grabs one of the couch pillows and chucks it at him. "You can leave," she mocks. "We don't mind."
Brittany's stomach hurts from laughing.
Eventually, Puck does leave, along with Kurt, Adam, and Rachel. Not too long after, Mercedes and Quinn go to their rooms, and Sugar disappears to take a shower, leaving Santana and Brittany alone on the couch.
Santana smiles shyly. "I'm sorry about them."
"It's okay," Brittany says softly. "I'm just glad to be here."
Santana settles her back against the arm of the couch. "You must be made of money," she jokes.
Brittany stretches her legs out, pushing against Santana's. "Nope," she says. Santana nudges her back and Brittany looks up, grinning. "Just love for cats and dance moves."
"You should dance for me sometime," Santana says.
Without thinking, Brittany pushes herself up and onto Santana's lap. Santana takes in a quick breath. "What are you doing?"
Brittany smiles, slowly starting to move her body. "I'm going to dance for you."
Santana sits stiffly, staring up at Brittany, but as Brittany tries to sway her hips, she begins to smile. It's a disaster—Brittany's left leg is trapped between the couch and Santana's thigh while the other is barely on the couch, so she's basically wiggling back and forth and trying not to fall. Brittany can't keep from smiling, either.
And then her leg slips.
She plops down on top of Santana, forcing the air out of both of them, and then they're silent.
Slowly, however, Santana's body begins to shake beneath Brittany's, and then she throws her head back and laughs. Brittany relaxes, giggling into Santana's neck.
They don't stop until Brittany feels something wet touch her cheek. She leans back, eyebrows furrowed as she looks at Santana, who's still smiling. "Sorry," Santana says, wiping her cheek and then shaking her head. "Sorry."
Brittany smiles lightly before leaning down again. She presses her lips to Santana's. "Don't be."
"You're a great dancer," Santana compliments as Brittany scoots off her lap, laughter still in her voice.
Brittany smirks a little. "I know."
Santana pushes her and swings her own legs to the floor. "Wanna head to my room?"
"Do you mind if I take a shower first?" Brittany asks.
Santana smiles, shaking her head. "Go ahead. I'll go grab some covers and stuff for Sugar."
Brittany pushes the bathroom door behind her. She pulls back the shower curtain and turns on the water—hot, with just a little bit of cold—before removing her clothes.
She's just about to step into the shower when the door swings open. "Hey, I got you a clean tow—Shit!" Santana spins away from Brittany and pushes the towel into her face.
"We're just determined to see each other naked, aren't we?" Brittany laughs.
Santana doesn't say anything, or maybe she does—there's some kind of groan from her covered face—but Brittany doesn't understand it. "Santana," she says.
Santana lifts her head only to shake it. She backs up to the sink and twists awkwardly to lay the towel on the edge. "I'm just gonna... leave this here for you," she mumbles.
"You can stay," Brittany decides. Santana stops at the door.
Brittany waits, but she's starting to get cold. The spray hitting her back isn't helping, either, so she gets in. She feels amazing as soon as the water hits her skin, and she takes a moment to feel it.
When she opens her eyes, Santana's still facing the door. "'kay, well, I'm gonna close this... water is going everywhere," Brittany says. "Get in if you want."
She pulls the shower curtain closed and turns her back to the water. She closes her eyes, and then there's nothing but the splatter of water against her back until she tilts her head under the water.
"Brittany?" Santana says, only just loud enough to hear. Brittany moves her head from beneath the spray, listening. "Are you sure about this?"
Brittany waits, water drumming against her skin, the steady sound filling her ears. Why did she offer? She doesn't want sex, as amazing as it sounds; she doesn't even expect kissing, not that she's against it.
She looks over at the shower curtain, even though she can only see a faint, scattered shadow of Santana; even though she's not saying anything.
Because that's all she wants: Santana.
"Only if you want," she answers.
A beat.
And another,
followed by the soft thud of the door.
She feels the cool air before she notices the shower curtain moving. Her chest prickles as she turns her head, smiling before she even sees Santana.
Santana's staring at her chest, but Brittany knows it's not because of her breasts. Santana reaches out, and Brittany's eyes shut as soon as Santana's fingers ghost over her skin. She doesn't have to look to know the shape she's tracing. Her skin burns with every second that passes, but when Santana's palm rests over it light as can be, everything stops. All Brittany can feel is her heart and Santana's hand.
She opens her eyes, and Santana's looking right at her.
(She's looking at her like she did at the airport—like she's confused and distressed.)
"What happened?" she says, as soft as her touch.
Brittany doesn't answer.
(She can't.)
Instead, she watches Santana's eyes roam, finding all the bruises and scars that mar her skin. She stands stiff, her heart beating faster beneath Santana's hand, until Santana's eyes return to hers.
They just stand beneath the stream of water until Brittany is able to speak.
"I dance, so I get hurt a lot," Brittany explains. "I also have a cat," she adds, and both are true. Most of the marks on her body are caused by dancing or playing with Lord Tubbington. A few are from climbing things. But not the one Santana cares about, the one she knows exactly how she got.
(She can't count how many times it's replayed in her mind since then, or even that night.)
Brittany breaths in deep, causing Santana's hand to slip, which she quickly removes. "Do you remember that day I was really upset?" She pauses, realizing that was a lot of days. "The day you told me to go home?"
"When your teacher was being a bitch?" Santana asks.
Brittany nods, a smile sneaking onto her face. "Yeah." Santana returns a tentative smile, but before she can say anything else Brittany continues. "I left something out." Her eyes shift away from Santana. "After that... I got pushed into a locker. It wasn't an accident." She glances up. "That's how I got this."
Santana reaches forward, and Brittany shuffles into her arms without thinking. Santana kisses the side of her head. "That's why you thought the thing with Sugar was your fault?" Her voice is soft, but full of unease.
Brittany wraps her arms tightly around Santana, closing her eyes once again and simply nodding.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Santana whispers a few seconds later.
"Santana," Brittany says, "I'm okay now."
"Really?"
Brittany nods again, but Santana nudges her back and meets her eyes. "Really?" she repeats, even softer.
Brittany tries to smile. "Okay enough, anyway."
Their fingers resemble dried prunes by the time they get out, their bodies no longer warm because they hadn't realized the water had turned cold. Brittany starts drying off with the towel Santana brought for her and Santana takes the one hanging on the bar, wrapping it around her body. Brittany watches her curiously, but Santana just mumbles something about clothes and makes her way out of the bathroom.
Brittany hangs her towel on the bar and gets dressed before wandering out to the living room.
Sugar's settling onto the couch, one cover beneath her and another bundled onto her lap, remote in hand, with a pillow on each side. Santana walks over from the kitchen, handing her a bottle of water.
Sugar shoots her a smile. "Thanks."
"Are you sure you're okay with the couch?" Santana asks, glancing over when Brittany walks up. "You guys can share my bed."
"No, that's fine." She grins, her gaze sliding to Brittany. "I'm comfortable here."
"Okay," Santana says.
"Night, Sugar," Brittany says, receiving a cheerful "Night!" in return.
Santana turns to Brittany and they make their way back to the bedroom.
Brittany plops onto the bed and then scoots to the top, watching as Santana makes her way to the side. Santana holds the water in her hand out to Brittany, who smiles gratefully as she accepts it. She unscrews the bottle as Santana lowers herself to the bed, taking a quick sip before offering it to Santana.
Santana turns her head without really looking. "I already have one."
Brittany looks past her, spotting a nearly empty bottle on her nightstand. "But this one's cold," she says. Santana takes it with a hint of a smile.
Brittany slides down, lying on her side to face Santana. After Santana sets the bottle next to her other one, she does the same. They lie there for a while, neither saying anything.
Brittany fidgets with the corner of her pillowcase as she watches Santana who isn't looking at her—who hasn't looked her in the eyes since their shower.
(She must have said something wrong.)
(She knew Santana wouldn't want to deal with all of this.)
A light touch to Brittany's cheek startles her, and her eyes refocus. Santana's looking at Brittany now—or her own hand as her finger traces up Brittany's jawline. Brittany silently follows the touch, both by feel and Santana's eyes as it moves up, almost to her hair, but instead to her ear. A slight shiver runs through her as Santana runs her finger along Brittany's ear.
"Did you know..." Santana starts, her voice low, "that your left and right ears process sound differently?" She peeks up and lets out a deep breath. Brittany smiles, and she wants to say no, but Santana continues. "The left hemisphere of your brain processes speech while the right deals with music. That's also where you get the association with the right brain and creativity and the left with analytical thinking—" Brittany finally catches Santana's eye and she stops talking.
Not that all the ear and brain stuff isn't interesting and Santana isn't super adorable right now, but it's not really the time. Or does it even matter?
(Do they really need to talk about Brittany anymore?)
Brittany feels bad for interrupting Santana—even though, technically, Santana interrupted herself. She gently grabs Santana's wrist, moving her hand away because it's starting to tickle, and smiles. "I always learn something new with you."
"Me too," Santana responds, instantly closing her eyes when the words are out. Brittany squeezes her wrist and they reopen. "I'm trying so hard to make it better for you," Santana breathes.
It seems like it takes forever, but Brittany finally forces the words out: "I know."
Brittany's half asleep, but the memory of what's in her bag wakes her up. How could she forget the blanket that's provided her warmth for weeks, or the rose she so carefully picked out?
(Santana has a way of making her forget things... even more than usual.)
Santana's eyes are closed. She's breathing slow. Brittany's not sure how long they've lain here, what time it is, or if Santana's asleep. She doesn't move, just in case.
Santana's face is much more relaxed than before. There's no worried crease in her forehead, no hint of a frown. She's so beautiful, and Brittany can't wake her up. She comes up with a different plan: she'll cover Santana with the blanket and tuck the stem of the rose between the bed and the wall, ready for when Santana wakes up.
This plan is better.
As soon as she sits up, however, Santana's eyes open.
Brittany hesitates. Santana's eyes are clear, almost like she's been listening to Brittany's thoughts. Or maybe she's still asleep.
Brittany smiles, ready to laugh but refraining, and Santana's forehead creases slightly—curious instead of worried.
"I have something for you," Brittany says.
A quiet, cracked, "What?" comes out of Santana's mouth.
Brittany crawls out of bed, answering "One sec" as she walks to her bag. She hides the rose on her way back, Santana's smile as she sits up making it impossible for Brittany to not grin.
Santana reaches out, running her hand against the soft strands. "You brought it back."
Brittany nods, letting Santana take the blanket. Santana pulls it to her chest, turning toward Brittany—and then wrinkles her nose. Her eyes flit down, and she holds it away from her face. "It smells like cat."
Brittany's face falls. "Crap," she hisses. She was so busy being excited that she forgot to wash it. Santana drops it onto their legs, and Brittany starts apologizing. "Lord Tubbington really likes it, too, and I didn't really use any other covers, so we cuddled in it. I meant to wash it but—"
"It's okay."
"—I forgot."
"It's okay," Santana repeats, shrugging. "It's just a blanket, we'll wash it. Or not." She smiles. "I don't really care."
Brittany grins, but, "Yes you do."
"So what?" Santana says, grinning right back.
Brittany grabs the rose from her side and holds it out. Her grin widens as Santana stares. "For you," she says.
Santana's fingers overlap Brittany's slowly, neither of them really looking at the rose. "I know it's fake," Brittany starts, removing her hand slowly, "but I figured you could actually keep it this way." Santana's fingers wrap around the stem and she pulls it close. "I looked for a long time with Kurt. I found you the best one I could."
"Brittany," Santana whispers, looking back up.
The warmth spreads through Brittany, consuming her so fully that she shivers. Ever since she's been here, especially since Santana got home, she's been feeling this happiness, but she couldn't figure it out—it's more than that. Now, after all these hours, she's finally figured it out.
(It's home.)
Sorry about the wait, guys. The beginning of the summer was kind of busy, and then I couldn't get myself to write for a while, and then I did, along with a ton of editing. And then my beta went over it for me, and here it is! I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully I can get the next one up soon.