Waiting was torture. Brittany had been home for all of five minutes, and her patience was waning fast. This was all Santana's fault. How could she say something like that and then make Brittany wait? The blonde knew that Santana liked to work late, and knowing she possibly had several more hours to go was unbearable. Snatching up her phone, she typed out a quick text to her boss.
Brittany: you should probably leave early today.
She placed her phone back on the coffee table and looked around her apartment, hoping for a potential distraction. Glancing over the kitchen counter, her eyes landed on the refrigerator, and she thought about having a quick dinner. Brittany tossed this idea quickly; her stomach felt too jittery. Then, she saw the remote control at the other end of the couch and considered trying to find something on TV. She knew it wouldn't successfully distract her, though, so she left the remote untouched. Finally, looking back down at the coffee table, her eyes landed once again on her phone. It had remained silent since she'd sent the text to Santana; Brittany wondered if that meant anything. Sitting next to her phone was the journal she'd technically stolen from the coffee shop. She leaned forward and picked it up. The worn leather felt smooth as ever under her fingers, and not for the first time, she wondered how old it was and who it used to belong to. She flicked through it quickly, seeing page after page full of writing. Temptation was starting to pull at her, and she was thinking hard about reading the first entry. Maybe reading someone else's woes and feelings would distract her from her own. She was on the brink of turning to the first page when she heard a quiet knock at her door.
Just knowing it was Santana on the other side made her feel nervous and excited all over again. She quickly stuffed the journal between the seat cushions of the couch. For some reason, she felt oddly shy about it; she didn't want Santana to see the journal whose pages held Brittany's feelings for her. Satisfied that it was well-concealed, she got up to open the door.
There she was again. Brittany didn't know if she'd ever get used to how insanely attractive Santana was. She stood in Brittany's doorway, her hair falling in thick curls around her face, her power suit making her look as fierce as ever. Noticeably absent, however, was Santana's signature smirk—the one she always wore when Brittany knew she was feeling feisty...the one that always got Brittany in trouble. Instead, Santana looked conflicted, maybe even pained.
"Santana, what's wrong?" Brittany moved out of the way to let Santana by. The brunette walked inside without a word, and Brittany closed the door behind her.
Turning around to face her, Santana took a large breath and began. She seemed to be struggling to find words.
"Brittany...I—I can't. I can't...do this...with you."
Brittany felt her jitters die at Santana's words, only to be replaced with confusion.
"What? What happened, Santana? I just saw you like a half hour ago, and you...felt differently."
Brittany had read Santana's last text message about 30 times. Her current attitude was a 180-degree difference.
"God, Brittany...I don't know what's wrong with me. When you're near me, I just...and then you leave, and I think I can control it better. And...and now here I am, and there's just so much you don't know. And I can't tell you any of it, but even if I wanted to...all my thoughts get interrupted." She stopped here and closed her eyes, obviously frustrated.
"I can't even form a fucking coherent sentence, because all I can think about right now is how sexy that confused pout is on your face. And I just want to kiss you again. But I can't, and I hate myself for that. I've already fucked up with you, and I don't know how to fix anything."
She stopped and took another deep breath. Her face was the most sincere Brittany had ever seen it. Brittany stood there, astounded. She really didn't know what Santana was talking about, but she knew this was the most honest the woman had ever been with her. Brittany took a few steps forward and reached for Santana's hand, taking it in both of hers. Santana closed her eyes again at the contact.
"Santana, nothing has to happen. Tell me what's going on. Tell me what you meant by all of that." Brittany let her thumb slide back and forth over the back of Santana's hand soothingly.
"Can we go for a walk or something?" Santana asked back, surprising Brittany.
"Um, sure. Like right now?"
"Please. I need to get out of this apartment. Just this...standing this close to you...with no one else around. Can we go?"
Brittany let go of Santana's hand and grabbed her keys off the counter and a light jacket from the hook next to the door.
"Come on," Brittany said with a smile.
Once out on the street, they began making their way down the sidewalk, this time in the opposite direction of the firm. Brittany had no idea where they were going or if they even had a destination. They just walked. Even though it was still winter, it was a fairly mild day. The light breeze made it just chilly enough for Brittany's jacket. She wondered if Santana was cold in only her suit jacket. She looked over at the brunette, who hadn't said anything since leaving the apartment. Santana looked back at her and gave a small smile, then wordlessly took Brittany's hand in hers before looking ahead again. It reminded her of the time they had walked back to Brittany's apartment hand-in-hand. It felt nice.
They had reached the end of the block. Brittany was wondering if they'd turn or keep going straight, when a runner came around the building's corner and ran right into her, knocking her back a few steps.
"Oi! Watch it!" he shouted, not bothering to stop and make sure she was okay. He was halfway down the block before she even thought about responding.
"What an asshat," Santana said, looking after him with disdain.
For some reason, hearing Santana say the word "asshat" completely made up for being run into, and Brittany started laughing.
"What's so funny?" asked Santana, taking Brittany's hand again and directing them across the street.
"You said asshat. Also, did he just say the word 'oi'?" Brittany asked, smirking at Santana.
"I thought I heard that too...weird."
They continued for a few more seconds in silence before Santana spoke again.
"So, do you think I'm crazy?"
Brittany looked over, but Santana was looking firmly ahead.
"I don't think you're crazy. But I don't really know what to think."
Santana nodded at these words.
"Brittany...I'm so fucked up."
Moments passed in silence. What does one say to a confession like that?
When Brittany didn't say anything, Santana continued.
"I've been keeping everyone out for so long. And I've always been good at it. It's what makes me a great lawyer—not forming emotional connections. I get the facts, I win the case, and I move on. It works for me."
At these words, she stopped walking, bringing both of them to a halt on the sidewalk. Then, she looked up into Brittany's eyes.
"And then you came along."
Brittany said nothing. She just wanted to let Santana talk until she had nothing left to say. She gently squeezed Santana's hand to encourage her to continue.
"And you're the one person who hasn't made it easy. I have to try so hard with you, to keep you out. I've already slipped up a few times. And now I feel like there's no way back."
Brittany felt like she should be a little hurt by these words, but she wasn't. She just wanted to know more—to know why.
"Is it such a bad thing? To let someone in? To let me in? Why do you want to shut everyone out?"
The woman took a deep breath and said sadly, "If you don't let anyone in, no one can let you down."
"Why are you so sure I would let you down?"
"Why are you so sure you wouldn't?" she retorted quietly.
Brittany opened her mouth to respond but then shut it. She realized nothing she could say would be proof enough. Instead, she tried a different angle.
"By that logic, Santana, you'd never trust anyone ever. Never have friends. You'd never love. You would spend your life alone."
Santana broke eye contact and started walking again, bringing Brittany with her.
"I came to terms with that a long time ago."
More silence. Brittany had never heard anything so sad. But then, she felt Santana's thumb trace the back of her hand, leaving a trail of heat where it passed.
"So then why are we here now? Why are you telling me this if you're still going to try and shut me out? Why are you holding my hand?"
Santana looked down at their interlaced fingers.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." she responded and started to pull her hand away. Brittany stopped her.
"Don't. I didn't mean it that way. I just want to know why." Santana resumed stroking the back of her hand.
"I like holding your hand. It feels good. And I like how you just let me, like it's perfectly normal."
Brittany smiled at these words and gave Santana's hand another gentle squeeze.
"I like holding your hand too."
They were approaching the end of another block. At the corner was a bench for a bus stop.
"Would you like to sit for a minute?" Brittany asked, pointing to the bench.
Santana nodded, and they sat, hands still linked.
"You never answered the other questions I asked," Brittany stated, watching the people pass by. No one gave them a second glance. Santana had now taken Brittany's hand in both of hers and was connecting the dots between Brittany's freckles with her free hand.
"Like I said...you make everything difficult. I feel like I...owe it to you."
"So...the reason why you can't...why you don't want to get involved with me...isn't just because you're my boss?"
Santana took a deep breath. "No. It was never really about that. It was just a convenient excuse."
"But now we sort of are involved," Brittany reminded her quietly.
"I never meant for that to happen. But you just...you make me forget all that when you're near me. And I lose control, and it feels so fucking good. And I think, fuck all the rules. And for a while I held it off at just teasing. But then you kissed me."
Santana stopped tracing lines on Brittany's skin, let go of her hand, and looked up at her. Her fierce gaze was back.
"You kissed me. And I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of stopping you. And it was probably the best kiss I've ever had. It was like I got high off it or something, and I needed more. And now here we are. Thinking about it, all I want to do is kiss you again."
Brittany didn't know how much more she could take without kissing the woman. Hearing Santana's confessions was making her heart beat erratically and her brain feel fuzzy. Santana continued anyway.
"On top of all that, you showed me New York City from 17 floors up. Twice. I would have never done that on my own. Or for anyone else. But I did it for you without even knowing you very long. And every night when I go home, I stay up waiting for sleep that hardly ever comes. I get to the office at the crack of dawn just to have something to do. But then, at your place, I fall asleep almost immediately. Again, twice."
She looked up at Brittany like she was a puzzle Santana just couldn't figure out. Attempting to lighten the mood, Brittany said with a wink, "Maybe I'm magic."
Santana gave her another small smile and looked out at the passing people. "Little dreamcatcher."
Brittany didn't know why...but she kind of liked that Santana had called her that.
"And now what?" Brittany asked, also looking out at the passersby.
"And now, I'd like to walk you back to your apartment. It's getting cold out," she said, standing up and extending her hand. Brittany took it without hesitation.
"You know that's not what I meant," she said, looking down at the brunette as they began to walk.
"I know."
Santana didn't elaborate, and Brittany didn't push her. They'd come a long way on their short walk. Brittany knew that there were still huge gaps left unfilled—mostly the "why" to everything Santana had told her. She thought that maybe, one day, she'd figure those out too.
They made their way back to Brittany's apartment in complete silence. Santana held her hand the whole way, spreading warmth from Brittany's fingertips to the rest of her body. The blonde wondered if it was weird that holding Santana's hand already felt so natural. It gave her butterflies and calmed her at the same time.
When they reached Brittany's door again, she knew that Santana would leave this time, that they'd reached their goodnight. After she opened the door, she turned around to face her boss.
"See you tomorrow?"
Santana smiled and nodded.
"Oh, and Santana? Can I tell you something?"
The brunette just nodded again, still smiling. Brittany took a big breath and went on.
"I don't really know where we stand now. Where you stand now. I don't know if this is you deciding to open up to me or if we're just not going to go down that road."
Santana clenched her jaw and furrowed her brows, like she was thinking of a response. Brittany continued before she could.
"You don't have to tell me either way right now. But I just wanted to tell you...I can't promise that I won't ever let you down. I can't see the future, so I think that's a pretty unfair promise to make. I do know, though, that I don't ever want to. I don't ever want to disappoint you, or abandon you, or hurt you. Whatever that's worth."
Santana smiled that perfect smile of hers. She really was so beautiful, it almost hurt.
"It's worth a lot."
With that, she lifted Brittany's hand with both of hers to her lips and placed a very light kiss to the back of it. She gave Brittany another fleeting smile, and without another word, she was gone.