On Tuesday morning, Brittany wakes up in her own bed to her alarm clock. Grumbling, she notes, as she did the previous morning, that waking up with her girlfriend is so much better. Sleeping with her is better. Unfortunately, it's a weekday, and staying over all the time isn't practical, and Santana probably doesn't want her there all the time, right? Not far away, Santana is trying to tell herself the same things. But with Brittany in her arms, everything just feels better. Even mornings suck less—and that's really saying something, because mornings suck pretty bad.

After her first class that morning, Brittany has a 30-minute break before the next one. She heads to her next classroom and does some homework while she waits for the class to start. Luckily, things are still going quite well now that she and Santana regularly do homework together. Her phone starts to vibrate, and she's confused, because the Latina is in class. Who else would be calling? Picking it up, she sees "Home" and answers. "Hello?"

"Hello Brittany. It's your mother. Sorry I haven't been returning your calls. Your father and I have been busy."

"It's okay."

"How are you doing in classes? Do you think you're going to pass this semester? Be honest with me, Brittany," she says harshly.

"I'm doing okay, I think. I have tutors."

"Hmm. Well, remember our deal. If you don't do well enough to keep the scholarship, and we have to pay, you're switching to business. Is this still understood?"

Brittany nods, then makes an affirmative sound out loud when she remembers that her mom can't see her.

"Anyways, your sister and I were talking. Your 19th birthday is coming up. How do you feel about breast implants? I mean, you're barely a B cup." Her mother sounds much more excited now.

"Uh, I'm not really...I don't know if I want breast implants."

"Of course you do. Don't be stupid, Brittany, it's not that painful. Your sister and I have both had it done. Besides, what do I always tell you?"

Brittany's eyes sting with tears. She hates her mother's motto—really, it's her mother's motto for her—because it hurts her feelings. "If you can't be smart, at least you can be pretty."

"That's right. So have you spoken to Tommy recently?"

Brittany feels her breath catch at her mother's fond tone. "No. We're not together."

"Well, I didn't know if you'd come to your senses and gotten over your little dispute. His mother and I were talking, and we both still think you'll end up together. You'd be so lucky, too. Maybe you should give him a call. He's doing really well in football and in classes."

"Oh, uh, yeah." Brittany isn't sure how to respond to her mother.

"I've got to go. Meetings and all that. When are you free to see my surgeon? You'll have to go to a consultation first before the actual appointment. I bet I could get you in for both over Christmas break."

"I don't know."

"Well, I need to know as soon as possible to make the appointment, so let me know in a few days. Bye."

With that, her mother hangs up. Brittany chews her bottom lip. Her mother has mentioned a boob job to her several times in the past. Yeah, her boobs are small, but dancing would hurt if they were too big. Still, maybe she'd look better if they were bigger. Sexier. She's taller than Santana, but her boobs are much smaller. Maybe they're too small. She hasn't felt bad about them in a long time—not since dating Tommy, who would criticize their size all the time. Looking down at her chest, her eyes start to sting again, so she forces herself to focus on her homework before class starts, deciding she'll think about this later.


On Wednesday, she's unable to see Santana until dinner. She's in one of the studios working on stuff for her Dance Improv class when she gets the text that Santana is outside. Excited to see her girlfriend, she grabs her bag, slips her shoes on, and runs outside, not thinking about how little she's wearing.

When Santana sees Brittany, her breath catches. She's only wearing short shorts and a sports bra, and she's glistening with sweat. Starting at her legs, Santana draws her eyes slowly upwards over her defined thighs, the curves of her hips, and the defined lines of her abs. As her eyes continue their journey up, she pauses on her girlfriend's chest. She can see the outline of her nipples, and she subconsciously licks her bottom lip. No doubt, she's turned on. Forcing herself to tear her eyes away, she focuses on Brittany's smiling face and beautiful blue eyes, so as to prevent herself from having to deal with being hard and uncomfortable all of dinner. Dinner. At the dining hall. Where other people can see Brittany. Nope, no way, she thinks. As she looks at the backseat, searching for anything to put on over Brittany's barely covered torso, the passenger door opens.

"What are you looking for, babe?" Brittany asks.

"A shirt or something, for you. So you don't get—" she pauses, momentarily distracted by her girlfriend's back muscles as she leans down to dig through her bag, "uh, cold."

Brittany laughs at the Latina's open-mouthed stare and pulls a tank top out of her bag. "It's like 80 degrees out, San."

"Well...I don't want people to get to look at you like that," Santana tells the truth sheepishly. "I mean, I'm not being possessive or anything. You can do whatever you want. It was just a gut reaction, I guess."

"It's okay, I wouldn't want you walking into a dining hall dressed like this either. You'd cause a sex riot."

Santana laughs loudly. "A sex riot?"

"Yeah, I mean, look at you."

"Look at you, B. You'd cause one too. It'd be pandemonium."

Brittany's smile shifts to something less joyful. "Nah. I look like I'm twelve. Completely flat." She looks down at her lap but quickly looks back up and smiles. "Let's go! I'm starving."

Santana is confused and more than a little bothered by her comment. Yeah, she doesn't have the biggest boobs, but they're beautifully shaped and a perfect handful. Plus, she's thin; huge boobs would look strange on her and, Santana imagines, make dancing uncomfortable. Most of all, she's confused, because up until this point, Brittany hasn't shown any real lack of confidence in her body. Which she shouldn't, she thinks, my girlfriend is fucking beautiful. Still, she lets it go, because that's clearly what Brittany wants her to do.

At dinner, she tries to work in how beautiful she thinks Brittany is as often as possible. One time, she just blurts it out, completely out of context. Brittany cocks her head to the side and laughs but leans over the entire table, nearly knocking everything over, to give her a kiss anyway. As she does so, some guy at another table makes the mistake of whistling at them, and Santana nearly gets them kicked out of the dining hall when she hits him in the side of the head with an orange and threatens him with razor blades supposedly hidden in her hair. Brittany cracks up, pretty sure Santana is the most amazing person in the world.

"So, my brothers called. They'll be here Friday. Do you have any plans this weekend? If you really don't want to meet them, I can tell them not to come."

"No! I want to spend all weekend with you, as long as you want to spend it with me. And of course I want to meet them, especially if they're driving up to meet me. You think they'll approve of me, right?"

"Yeah B, they will. How could they not? Do you want to stay over this weekend? Like last weekend, only with power? Maybe we could do a movie night or something low-key on Saturday."

Brittany nearly leaps over the table again in her excitement that Santana wants to spend the entire weekend with her, but she reins it in. Composing herself as much as she can but still bouncing with excitement, she responds. "Yes!" A short pause, then "But could we maybe do some homework too? I'm worried about my test next week."

Santana rubs her thumb over the blonde's knuckles. "Of course, I already planned on that. Try not to be too nervous, Britt-Britt. You'll do well."

After dinner, they do homework as usual, but this time at the coffee shop instead of the library. Then, Santana drops Brittany off at her dorm, where she gets a message from Sam asking if she wants to hit the gym in the morning. She responds with a yes, sets her alarm a little earlier, and, after a few texts back and forth with Santana, falls asleep.

While at the gym with Sam the next morning, she finds herself scrutinizing her body in the mirror. Turning sideways, she looks at her profile. Maybe her mom is right. Maybe if she just gets them done, her mom will have less to complain about, and she'll have more in common with her mom and sister. She turns to Sam and asks, "Sam, are my boobs small?"

Sam nearly drops the weight on his chest in surprise before setting it back into its brackets and turning to Brittany. "What?"

"Are my boobs small?" He laughs. "Sam, this is serious!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry for laughing. Well...first off, don't even tell Santana you asked me that question, because somehow, I'll get hit for it." Then, he stands in front of the mirror with Brittany and cocks his head to the side, looking objectively. "Bro to bro?" Brittany nods. "They're a little small, but I mean, so are you. So they fit. They aren't too small for you, I don't think. Like, they don't look weird."

Brittany looks at him, confused. She doesn't think she looks weird, just flat-chested. "Thanks. I think." As Sam nods and goes back to lifting weights, Brittany thinks about what he just said. All she really notes is that Sam thinks they're small.


As Brittany goes about her day, trying to not be nervous about meeting Santana's brothers and trying to not think about her mom's suggestion of a boob job, she receives a text from Santana.

From Santana: Hey babe. I was thinking, if you're really nervous about next week's test, we can skip LGBTA tonight and study. Then, we can have more time together not studying this weekend. Also, you look pretty today.

She hasn't seen Santana yet today, so how can she know if she looks pretty? At the moment, she's wearing sweats and a tank top, because she has dance right after this class.

To Santana: Yes. Good plan. Also, how do you know I look pretty? I look homeless.

When Santana reads her text, she laughs out loud, earning herself some strange looks from other people in the lounge of the music building. She doesn't care, though; she loves how funny Brittany is without even trying.

To Brittany: You don't look homeless, boo. And I know because you always look pretty. Meet you for dinner and then studying?

From Brittany: You're cheesy, but I like it. It's a date.

As they're studying in the library that night, between what her mother had said, the anticipation of meeting Santana's brothers, and her nerves about the test, Brittany finds herself having a hard time focusing. Plus, any time Santana leans over to explain something to her, she can smell her perfume and shampoo, which is distracting, to say the least. She's slightly lost in thought when she gets a text from her mother.

From Mom: I made an appointment for you the week after Christmas break starts.

Brittany stares at it for a second, confused. She hadn't ever told her mom she wanted to get the implants. She starts to get upset, and Santana immediately notices the shift in her mood.

"Everything okay, babe? Who was that?"

Brittany simply nods, feeling embarrassed to talk to her about this. She wonders if Santana would be happy if she got the surgery. What girl or guy wouldn't want their girlfriend to not be flat-chested anymore? Tommy had definitely mentioned it enough. "My mom. It's nothing."

Santana doesn't really believe her, especially since she's only ever heard things about this woman that make her sick. However, she doesn't want to pry if Brittany doesn't want to talk about it. "Oh. Do you talk to her often?" The question seems generic enough, and she's curious.

Brittany shakes her head no. "I heard from her a couple days ago. About my birthday."

"Are they going to come visit you or something?"

"No." The way Brittany says it makes Santana pretty sure the conversation is over.

"I don't know about you, but I'm getting kind of tired. Want to call it a night and give our brains a break? We can do some more on Sunday."

Without replying, Brittany just looks at her, slowly leans in, and places her head on Santana's shoulder, nuzzling her nose into the Latina's neck and taking a deep breath. Although Santana can tell Brittany needs comfort, she still doesn't know why.

"You sure everything is okay, B?"

Brittany hesitates before answering yes. More than anything, she wants to ask Santana if she can stay over. She feels uncomfortable with herself right now—a feeling she isn't used to—but she doesn't want to overwhelm Santana with her problems.

Santana is still unconvinced but unwilling to pry, so she does what she can to let it go. After taking Brittany back to her dorm, she says, "My brothers will be here around 7 tomorrow. Want to come to my place a little early?"

"Definitely. I'll walk over after I shower and stuff after class. Is that okay?"

"I guess I can wait that long if I have to." Santana captures Brittany's lips in a sweet kiss, and they continue to kiss for a few minutes before pulling apart.

"I'll miss you," Brittany says.

Something in her voice makes Santana want to hug her, so she does, hoping that whatever is going on with Brittany is just a weird mood and that she'll be fine by tomorrow. "I'll miss you too, baby." Santana kisses her again.

When Brittany gets to her dorm room, she wants nothing more than to just not think, so she grabs her iPod, puts on a playlist that reminds her of Santana, and falls asleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.


After classes the next day, Brittany goes back to her dorm to shower, change, and grab an overnight bag. She's extremely excited to sleep over at Santana's again. When she gets there a little before 5, she knocks and is slightly surprised to see Quinn open the door.

"Hi Brittany. Nervous about meeting the wolf pack?"

"Who?"

"Santana's brothers. They're all huge, with massive muscles, and incredibly loud. They also eat more meat than anyone I've ever seen. We sometimes call them the wolf pack."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm a little nervous. I hope they like me."

"I think they will. Plus, Santana likes you. A lot. That definitely counts for something." Brittany smiles at the mention of Santana's name, which doesn't go unnoticed by Quinn. Seeing the way Brittany's eyes literally brighten at just the mention of the other girl's name, she can't help but smile. "She's in her bedroom. Go ahead back."

When Brittany knocks before gently pushing Santana's door open, the brunette turns her head to meet bright blue eyes and an excited smile. "You look beautiful, Britt."

Brittany blushes and looks down. She's wearing flats and a white and blue dress that she isn't sure fits her correctly but is glad Santana thinks so. "Thanks, babe. You do too." She definitely does. In her dark jeans and purple off-the-shoulder top, Santana looks amazing. She always looks amazing.

Santana watches Brittany's face fall and immediately knows that whatever was bothering her yesterday is still on her mind. "Hey Britt, do you want to lay in bed with me for a bit?" Whenever Brittany wants to talk about it, she will, but in the meantime, the least Santana feels she can do is offer this closeness.

As soon as Brittany lies down, she's completely surrounded by Santana. Wrapped in her arms, their legs tangled together, her scent everywhere, it's the most comfortable she's felt in days. Suddenly, the topic doesn't feel so overwhelming to talk about. "San?" Brittany asks in a small voice.

"Yeah, Britt?" Brittany hesitates, so Santana nudges her jaw with her nose before placing a light kiss there. "You can tell me anything."

"Do you..." Brittany takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the answer. "Do you think my boobs are too small?"

Santana's initial reaction is to laugh incredulously, which, judging by Brittany's slightly hurt expression, is the wrong thing to do. "What? No. Absolutely not. You're perfect. Perfectly proportioned, perfect everything. Brittany, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life."

Brittany bites her lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. She should have known Santana would say that; she should have called her the minute she got off the phone with her mother.

"Where is this coming from?"

"My mom called earlier this week, like I told you. She said she's going to get me breast implants for my birthday. She's brought it up a few times before, but this is the first time she's ever sounded serious. She even made an appointment already."

Santana sees red. Who is this woman? Who is she to tell her own beautiful, perfect daughter that she is anything less than that? After taking a few seconds to try and calm the anger in her voice, she responds, "How do you feel about that?"

"Pretty bad. It's not something I really ever thought about, but when I think about it, I don't know what to do. I dance and run and do a lot of physical activity, and bigger boobs would make that so much harder. But why would she say it if I wouldn't look better? Plus...who doesn't want a girlfriend with bigger boobs?" She looks away, ashamed and self-conscious, as she says the last part.

"Don't say that, Brittany," Santana says harshly. "I want you exactly as you are. I don't have words for how beautiful you are."

"But you're shorter than me and skinny, and your boobs are a lot bigger than mine."

"So what if they are? That's just how it works sometimes. That doesn't mean yours don't fit your body; they totally do. I don't know what the fuck your mom's problem is, suggesting you need bigger boobs, but that's completely asinine. Do you want a boob job? If you really, truly do, I'll support you. I'll take you to the doctor and help you change your bandages or whatever you need. But please don't do this unless you 100 percent want to for yourself. Do you?"

Brittany looks into Santana's brown eyes, touched by the warmth, sympathy, and affection she sees there. "I don't think so. No, I don't. But how do I tell my mom?"

Running her fingers gently down Brittany's face, Santana kisses the tip of her nose as she contemplates how to answer. Before she can, her phone rings. "Is it okay if I answer? It's my brothers."

"Of course, San."

"Hello?...oh, fuck you," Santana answers the phone, then blushes, making Brittany wonder what her brother said. "Wow, okay. We're here and ready, so why don't you just meet us at the restaurant?...Love you too, asshole." After hanging up, she runs her fingers through Brittany's hair. "They're early and 'hungry as shit,' so we're just going to meet them at the restaurant. Is that okay?"

"Yep."

The blonde starts to pull away to get up, but Santana holds on tightly. "We'll finish talking about this later, okay beautiful?"

Brittany nods and kisses her. After a few seconds, they separate and get ready to meet Santana's brothers, Brittany trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach.