You're sitting on the couch when I finally get back home. You smile at me and lean back so I can kiss your lips upside down, making us both giggle.

Oh, honey, how I've missed you.

You hop up and help me, picking my bag up off the floor and shouldering it and helping me slide out of my jacket. You're so cute sometimes. When you walk to the bedroom with my bag, you send a coy look over your shoulder and I know what you're thinking, what you want, but I'm so damn tired.

Exhausted.

Drained.

I give you a sweet smile and let out a deep breath and you get the hint as well. You disappear and I plop down on the couch to pull my shoes off and breathe.

You come back with a soft smile on your face and happiness sparkling in your eyes and sit next to me. Our thighs touching, your arm around my shoulders, pulling me into you, the crook of your neck becoming mine once again.

Oh, baby, how I've missed you.

"How was your drive?"

I'm glad you're starting small. We talked the whole time I was gone, calls and texts, Bluetooth companionship while I was driving, but debriefing my weekend with you in person is different. Everything is different in person.

"Long. Good."

"You made good time."

"I know, I maybe didn't pay attention to the speed limit signs as much as I should have."

"Saaaannnn…."

"I know, but I just wanted to come back to you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Miss."

"Oh, flattery gets me everywhere…" I trail off and let my lips land on your pulse point, nipping for a second, but not enough to get you worked up.

You groan and squeeze my shoulders, "S…"

"I know. Sorry, baby."

We sit there in silence for a moment, breathing each other in, remembering each other. It's only been two days but sometimes it feels never ending, the time I'm not with you.

"So."

"So."

"Baby… I've been waiting on pins and needles here."

I take a deep breath, this is it. "She wants to meet you."

I hear you gasp. I look up and see a small smile on your face, and I kiss your cheek.

"What did she say exactly?"

"Well, we talked. I went over there by myself… my dad was upset, he wanted to go with me, but I knew I needed to do it alone, like last time." My voice cracks on that sentence and I wince. Clearing my throat and feeling you squeeze my shoulder again, I continue. "It was weird, it was like everything was the same and everything was different all at once. She looks the same, but older, sadder. I thought for a second maybe the age and sadness was regret… but, that's stupid. I'm not her only grandchild."

I stop, this shouldn't be so hard. We already kind of talked on the phone about it, well… a little. Enough for you to know that I was ok and it didn't go as horribly as the last time I saw Abuela in person.

I remember walking into her home, the home I still know like the back of my hand even though I haven't been there in years. Some of the pictures were the same, some were different. Some of the furniture was the same, some was different. She led me into the kitchen and I felt a sense of dread rise from my belly. That kitchen still haunts my nightmares. But, this time it was completely different. The side of her fridge was covered in press clippings and pictures of me. Me. Performing, paparazzi pictures, red carpet events. There was even one of the two of us walking down the street, and I'm laughing, and you can practically see the happiness radiate off my face.

And I almost lose it right there, my heart pounding in my ears, my tears welling up behind my eyes fighting the good fight to get out. My feet glued to the ground.

She didn't say anything about it, she simply asked me to sit down and she put a plate of cookies on the table, still remembering my favorites, and a pot of coffee and asked me about my life.

And then she listened.

And she didn't ask questions.

And she didn't waiver.

And she heard what I said, and she understood what I said.

And when your name fell from my lips the first time, she softened even more, and grabbed my hands and squeezed them. She looked me in the eye, right into my heart like she always could and said, very quietly but very firmly, "I'm glad you've found your love, Santanita."

And that's when I lost it. And all the pain and all the heartbreak and all the anger I had all came out. She pulled me into her, into a fierce hug and held me there, in her strong arms, and it felt like my world righted itself even more.

I've felt that feeling three times in my life, that feeling of the world shifting right underneath my feet. The first time was when I realized I was gay. It was scary and felt like I'd never know which way was up, but at the same time it was like the compass in my heart righted itself and I knew I'd never be lost again, that I'd always know true north.

The second time was when I sat there in that kitchen with my Abuela and saw her face turn to stone.

The third time… the third time is when you finally kissed me.

And every time I've felt that shift, that movement under my feet, I've lost my breath but found myself.

You kiss the side of my head and pull me out of my memory, gently reminding me that you're still here waiting patiently for my story.

"Sorry, B… I got a little lost in my head."

"It's ok."

"Ok, so…I walked in there and she had all these clippings and pictures of me on the fridge and I thought I was going to lose it. Then she sat me down and just asked me about my life…she didn't interject or ask too many questions, she just sat and listened. And it was…" my voice cracks again, and god I don't know how many more tears I have in my body even, "It was…so amazing. It was like she was seeing me for the first time, and really loving me for the first time."

I hear you sniffle and look up and see your eyes, crystal and watery with tears. You grab my face with your hands and kiss me, hard. Quick. Once and full of love.

"Honey…"

"Wait, let me finish, B."

"When I mentioned you… when I mentioned you she just, softened. She grabbed my hands and squeezed them and said, I'm glad you found your love, Santanita. And I lost it. I actually just started sobbing, and she got up and hugged me and started crying and all of the sudden I realized I didn't need an apology and I didn't need an explanation, it just didn't matter anymore. We were both hurt and we were both lost and it just…like it matters, but it doesn't. It's a new leaf."

I reach up and brush the tears off your cheeks, feeling my heart swoon for you, and all the love you have for me.

"I didn't think I'd ever hear her call me Santanita ever again." It comes out as an afterthought, on an exhale, I never thought I'd actually say it out loud, but you…you do that to me.

You pull me into you, reaching over and sliding me on top of you so you can hug me better, closer, your lap cradling me as I shed a few more tears at the thought.

We stay like that again quietly absorbing before I continue.

"So, after we cried she started laughing and asked me all about you. How we met, when we started dating, what you do… things she probably already knows from all the papers and magazines and everything around, but she wanted to hear it from me, baby."

"Please tell me you didn't tell her about my weird armpit thing."

My laughter rings out clear and loud around the empty apartment, and you giggle beneath me, "Oh, she knows all about it, babe."

"Damn. I was hoping that would miss the family newsletter."

"Nope, it's going to be the front page headline. You're a Lopez now, babe…your dirty secrets are everybody's dirty secrets."

You stop laughing and I look down at you wondering why, but just find you looking at me in awe, that little half smirk growing on your lips.

"What?"

"You called me a Lopez."

I gasp.

"You did… you called me a Lopez."

"Well…you are."

"I am, but not technically yet."

"Close enough for me, Britt-Britt."

And I kiss you. And your lips make me dizzy. And the butterflies in my belly take flight. And I swoon into you.

You pull away, avoiding my following lips and smirk. "That reminds me…I was thinking about, maybe, doing a hyphen."

"Hyphen…?"

"Yeah, like…well… I still want to be Brittany Pierce, but I want to have your name and be a Lopez and I want to have the same name as our kids, and you're famous so even though I would love if you were a Pierce it just doesn't make as much sense for you to change your name and Santana Lopez just flows right off the tongue… so I was thinking about a hyphen…for me… Brittany Pierce-Lopez. What do you think?"

I don't answer you with words, just my lips and my tongue and my hands in your hair pulling you closer to me, cutting off your cute, nervous rambling.

"You're amazing Brittany."

I kiss you again, sweetly, before I pop my lips off yours and beam back at you. Your shining face lights me up inside, making me feel like warm honey.

"I know I'm amazing." You shrug, "So…Abuela wants to meet me…?"

"Oh! Yes! She wants to meet you. She wants us to come up so she can meet you and get to know you and then she will formally accept our invitation."

"Wait? Why the hoops? Is she gonna say no if she doesn't like me, or approve of me." Your face falls and you start pouting and the worry lines on your forehead come out full force.

"No, sweetie. No… she just, she doesn't want you to be a stranger. She wants to see us as a couple and accept in person, and get to know you and get to know me. The me I am with you."

"Oh." Your brows are still furrowed and you're biting your lip.

"Britt-Britt…"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"Britt."

"What if she doesn't like me or approve of me and then she stops talking to you again and thinks that you're crazy and-"

"Brittany, look at me." I use that stern tone that I hate using with you but it gets your attention, you look at me, your eyes wide. "Britty…" I smile and soften, my Britt voice, "it's not like that. She's not going to do that again. She's already heard all about you- from my parents, from my family, from my cousins who are obsessed with you, from those articles and interviews of me. From me. She's going to love you. She's going to see how much I love you and the way you look at me and she's going to love you."

"I just…" you take a deep breath, "I just don't want to screw anything up for you."

"Oh, darling. You could never screw anything up for me."

This time I pull you into me, resting your head on my shoulder. "In fact, I need to thank you…. Without you pushing me and yelling at me and supporting me, I never would have…" I clear my throat, "I never would have done that. I never would have gone up there and sat with her, in that kitchen again."

"Yes you would've."

"No, I don't think so. You gave me courage; you give me courage and strength everyday"

"I'm just re-gifting. That's what you do to me, that all comes from you, S."

"I love you so much, Brittany Pierce-Almost-Lopez"

"Mmm… I like the sound of that." You lean in to kiss me, your blue eyes shades I've never seen before.