As usual, Brittany wakes up before Santana, and as usual, she watches Santana sleep for as long as she can before she's unable to stop moving. Getting out of bed, she quietly opens drawers, trying to find her clothes. When she realizes that Santana mixed their clothes together—all underwear and socks up top, then shirts, then pants—she smiles. Once she's dressed, she kisses Santana's forehead before heading downstairs.

The closer she gets to the bottom of the stairs, the weaker her confidence in her decision to spend some time alone with Santana's family gets. She's one second away from running back upstairs and playing a game on her phone when she hears Maribel from the kitchen. "Brittany, honey? I know that's you. It's before noon, so it's certainly not Santana. Can you come in the kitchen and help me?" With no other choice, she takes a deep breath, reminds herself that this woman seems to like her and that, most importantly, Santana's parents are not her parents, and walks into the kitchen as casually as she can. "Tea? I already put some on, so don't say no. I'm making breakfast. I hope you're hungry."

"Tea is great. You guys drink a lot of it here. Santana does at school too. I never drank it until I met her."

"Tea cures all kinds of things, Brittany. Plus, it warms you up. Your mother didn't make you tea when you were younger or sick?" Maribel knows she might be treading over rocky territory, but she's curious. Brittany just drops her eyes and shakes her head, so she decides not to probe. "Would you like to help? You don't have to."

"I'd like to, but I'm a really bad cook. I can only make, like, one thing."

"Well, come here. We'll work on that. Grab a spoon and start stirring."


Santana wakes up and tightens her arm around a pillow that is decidedly not Brittany. Cracking one eye open, she notes the lack of blonde hair and bright blue eyes that normally greet her in he morning. Then, she sees Brittany's sleep shorts and tank top on her chair and figures that, since she's not in the bathroom, she must be downstairs—where she inevitably would have encountered her mother. Oh shit.

She jumps out of bed, digs through her dresser, and puts on the first clothes her hands touch. As she glances in the mirror, she nearly screams at the sight of her hair. "Oh, hell no," she mutters, remembering that she didn't blow dry it last night. After pulling her hair into a sloppy ponytail, she runs downstairs.

Santana skids into the kitchen doorway, just in time to see Brittany successfully flipping a pancake under the watchful eye of her mother, who has her hand on Brittany's back and cheers at the blonde's triumph. She also notices what look to be several pancake flipping failures in a pile in the trash can. Two things stand out to her: first, that Brittany seems as carefree as she usually does, and second, that her mom is letting Brittany cook, despite Brittany's prior mistakes and her mom's usually controlling nature in the kitchen. "Good morning, Mami, Britt-Britt." Both women turn to look at her. Brittany giggles, and her mother cocks an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I Heart Unicorns. Really, Santana?"

Santana looks down at the shirt she's wearing, noting that it's (obviously) one of Brittany's. "It's Brittany's!" she replies defensively. "Plus, it's soft." She watches Maribel cock an eyebrow again, seemingly fighting a smile. "Whatever. Making pancakes?"

"Yep! Your mom is teaching me." Brittany is bouncing on her feet. Santana is relieved to see that the anxiety from yesterday gone, and her eyes are bright and smiling again.

"I'll finish this while you two set the table. It's just us."

"Where's Papi?" Usually, he's really good about not working on Sundays. He works a lot, but Santana knows that he tries to make time for his family.

"He and some guys from work drove down to see the football game. Something about a guy's day, so it's girl's day here. I was thinking breakfast, and then we can go out to get some movies and whatever snacks you like. Then, we can watch movies until your brothers get home, and then maybe play a game or something? Unless you girls have other plans." Maribel looks hopefully at Santana, who smiles. Her mom is putting in way more effort than usual to spend time with her.

"Nope, plan was to hang out with you today. Can we get scary movies?"

"Is there any other kind?" Her mother's reply is casual, but neither Santana nor Brittany miss her widened smile.

"Maybe one not scary movie? Please?" Brittany squeaks.

"Whatever you want, babe. What's that one you said I had to watch, something about dragons?"

"How To Train Your Dragon?!" Brittany replies excitedly. "Yeah, we should definitely get that one! You'll both love it."

"Definitely." Santana pulls out Brittany's chair for her, then kisses the top of her head before sitting next to her.

Maribel loves her children, of course, but she knows that Santana was probably the most spoiled kid ever. Pretty much since birth, she had her parents and older brothers wrapped around her little finger, giving her nearly anything she wanted. However, here she is now, not just accepting but even suggesting a movie that she ordinarily would never watch, simply because she knows it'll make Brittany happy. My baby really is growing up, Maribel thinks.

When they return from the store, Santana and Maribel gather blankets and pillows into the living room. "I'll take this couch. You two can take the other," Maribel says, throwing blankets onto the smaller couch. As she sits down on one end, Santana expects Brittany to cuddle up to her, but Brittany sits conservatively far away. While Santana knows she's trying to play it safe in front of her mother, she also knows—or, rather, hopes—that it'll only last as long as it takes the first movie to get scary.

She's absolutely correct. About 12 minutes into the movie, Brittany jumps into her lap when something scares the characters onscreen. Santana laughs lightly as she adjusts herself so Brittany can comfortably lie against her. After glancing quickly at Maribel, who's not only not watching but doesn't seem to care, Brittany settles into Santana and sighs when she feels arms circle her waist under the blanket.

"Love you," Santana whispers into her ear.

"Love you too," Brittany whispers back.

Santana buries her nose into Brittany's hair, breathing her in and tightening her hold. She tries to focus on the movie, but she has a beautiful girl in her lap who needs protecting. By the end of the movie, Santana can feel Brittany's heart pounding in her chest. "Your poor little heart. Pounding so hard," Santana murmurs into her ear.

"That one was scary. Can we watch How to Train Your Dragon now?"

"Definitely. That's what I was going to suggest too." Raising her voice, Santana says, "Mami, I'm going to put in the dragon movie now." While she pops the movie in, her mother goes to the bathroom, and Brittany heads to the kitchen to grab another drink. She's worried that Brittany will try to keep modest distance again, but when Brittany returns, she pulls the blankets up and climbs on top of Santana, laying on her stomach with her head on Santana's chest—their normal movie-watching position. "I'm glad you realized my mom doesn't care."

"I just don't want to make her feel weird."

"Are you kidding? She looks like Christmas has come every time we hug. As long as we keep it PG, she's more than okay with this."

As if to prove her point, Maribel walks back in. "Don't make me do a hand check, girls."

Santana groans, embarrassed, but Brittany just holds both of her hands up where Maribel can see them and laughs at the embarrassment she can feel rolling off of Santana.

Halfway through How to Train Your Dragon, her mother receives a text from the boys saying they'll be home in a few hours. As soon as the movie ends (Santana discreetly whispers in Brittany's ear that she'd like to buy this movie), Maribel gets up to start preparing dinner. "Santana, get some pasta sauce from the shelf in the garage."

Santana reluctantly untangles herself from her very warm and cuddly girlfriend to do as her mother asked. Brittany is looking around the living room when she spots a table with baby pictures on it. Walking over, she picks up a small silver frame, etched with the words "Santino Lopez." Santana had been the tiniest baby, with giant brown eyes and beautiful little features.

"I should have known from the moment she was born that she was a girl. The boys were all huge babies, but she was so tiny. I just thought she had a hormone problem. Antonio always had these strange suspicions...and he was right." As Maribel tells the story, she points out pictures of a little Santana, but with short hair and wearing blue pajamas or boyish clothing, as well as one of her holding a doll but looking very unhappy about something. "You can see the difference after we started to let her live life as she is. Look how her smile reaches a little further."

Brittany can tell. The little girl with progressively longer hair and dresses in the pictures does seem happier. "You have beautiful children."

"You're biased. You're in love with one of them," Maribel laughs, "but you're right. They are beautiful...and happy, which is most important."

When Santana's brothers get home, the volume in the house increases tenfold. They greet Santana and Brittany with hugs and excited yells before heading to the kitchen to greet Maribel in the same way. Dinner is easy and light, with nonstop laughter. It's the best dinner Brittany's ever had. Dinner at her house is never like this, but it seems like a regular thing here. She hopes she'll be around to experience a lot more of them.

After dinner, they go to the game room. Santana and Brittany mostly just watch, but a few times, her brothers make Brittany try to learn how to play. Watching all of the most important people in her life fit seamlessly together makes Santana's heart so full. She desperately wants to kiss Brittany a thousand times over for being so amazing. Unable to wait any longer, she whispers to Brittany that she's ready to go to bed whenever she is.

When they get to Santana's room, she closes the door and leans back against it. "I really want some alone time with you. I haven't been able to properly kiss you since last night."

"I was thinking the exact same thing." Brittany pushes Santana against the door and traps her lips in a searing kiss. "Mmm. Let's put PJs on and get into bed." Once they do so, Brittany presses herself as close to Santana as she can. Santana brushes a strand of hair off Brittany's face before leaning in to kiss her. It's slow, deliberately so, and full of love. When they need air, they simply lie there with their foreheads pressed together. "I wish I could feel all your skin," Brittany pouts.

"Me too. I miss it."

"Do you think...if I lock both doors, and we don't do anything, we could sleep like we normally do?" Brittany doesn't know if Santana will be okay with that plan, but she can't help but hope. She's used to sleeping with almost all (or all) of Santana's skin pressed against hers, and it's hard to go back to all these barriers. She pulls at her flimsy tank top.

"That...might be okay," Santana responds hesitantly. Brittany jumps up and locks the doors, immediately flinging her tank top to the ground, leaving her in just underwear. Sliding hers off as well, Santana can't stop staring at Brittany—her pale skin nearly glowing in the moonlight, her perfect body, with all its curves and lines and long muscles. "I miss touching you."

Brittany settles back into Santana's arms and sighs at the feeling of their breasts pressing together, stomachs touching, hands on naked backs. "I miss touching you too. It's like my vagina met your penis, and now it's very reluctant to spend so much time apart."

Santana giggles and presses her face into Brittany's neck. "My penis misses your vagina too, B."


The next day, they are awoken way too early, by Santana's definition. Already awake, Brittany is tracing shapes into Santana's back when she hears someone knocking—no, pounding—on the door. "GET UP! WE'RE GOING TO THE PARK! COME ON!" Brittany recognizes Diego's voice.

"Get the fuck out of here! It's the buttcrack of fucking dawn!" Santana grumbles.

"It's almost 10." Brittany whispers sweetly in her ear. "You can stay in bed. Can I go to the park with them, though?" She knows that Santana will get up and go to the park as long as she's going, but she likes to let Santana think she came to that decision on her own and wasn't coerced by Brittany's sweet voice and little kisses.

"SATAN! GET OUT OF BED AND COME ON!" Miguel joins in on the yelling. "Why's your door locked, huh? Layin' down that Lopez charm?!" He rattles the doorknob.

"Good thing I locked it last night," Brittany says as she starts getting dressed. She glances at Santana, who has a scowl firmly planted on her face and is blushing.

"Miguel, shut up, or I swear I will—"

"You must not be very good. We didn't hear a peep last night."

Brittany is pretty sure that isn't going to go over very—Yep. Here comes the Spanish. She doesn't understand what Santana's saying, but she's pretty sure it involves swear words and insults. She hears Diego and Miguel crack up, then thunder down the stairs after they yell to be down in 10. "Calm down, baby. They're just trying to rile you up." She puts her arms around a still deeply-scowling Santana. Leaning in, she whispers into her ear, "Plus, we both know that is absolutely not true. You make me come so hard." Then, she licks the shell of Santana's ear, effectively wiping the scowl off her face.

The park is great fun. They play football, which Brittany knows nothing about, other than what she'd learned from her cheerleading days. There's a big debate about the legality of the play when Diego just picks up a ball-holding Brittany and runs her to their touchdown zone. Mostly, it's a lot of mud and playful shoving and laughter.

As they're walking home, Luis brings up something that neither girl has thought about in a few days. "So Britt, I don't want to bring down the mood, but has that asshole called or bothered you since Friday night?"

"No," Brittany answers quietly. She feels Santana wrap an arm around her waist protectively, pulling her closer to her body.

"You don't need to tell me everything—just enough so that we know how to best protect you and Santana. I don't want him anywhere near either of you."

Brittany nods, knowing she owes them some kind of explanation after they protected her without question.

"Do you want me to tell them, babe?" Santana asks gently.

"No, I can do it. He's my ex-boyfriend. I guess he still wants to be with me, so he came up and was mad that I'm with Santana."

The explanation doesn't exactly fit what they saw that night. "Has he hit you before?" Diego asks.

Brittany looks down, ashamed that she had let that happen, unsure of how to explain it, and scared that they'll think she's stupid for putting herself in that situation in the first place.

"It's okay, Britt. They're just trying to help." Brittany nods, so Santana answers for her. "Yeah, he has. Among other things." Santana watches her brothers get visibly angry.

Surprisingly, it's Miguel who answers rationally. "We all witnessed him hit you. Of course, only Luis, Santana, and that Asian guy can confess to it, because Gabe, Diego, and I kicked the shit out of him, which is less than credible as far as witnesses go. I don't know the laws in New Jersey like I know them here, but between your past and what we saw, I'm pretty sure you're allegeable for a restraining order. He wouldn't be allowed to come anywhere near you guys."

"Well, he wouldn't be allowed anywhere near Brittany. Santana has no grounds for one. I doubt he'll come after either of them again, but just in case, I think it's a good idea. I have a friend on the force there, so I can give him a call and see if we can get the ball rolling—if you're interested, Brittany," Diego chimes in.

Brittany looks at them, confused.

"They're cops, baby," Santana tells her.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea. What would I have to do?" Brittany likes the idea that Tommy wouldn't be allowed near her. "What does a restraining order mean?"

"You'd have to file it, then go to court and tell your story. He'd be there as well, and he could counter the story, in which case, witnesses would be called upon. If the judge issues the restraining order and he comes within the ordered distance from you, you call the cops, he goes to jail."

Brittany's hold on Santana's hand tightens. "I don't want to do that. I don't want to have to explain to strangers what happened. I don't like talking in front of people, and I'll mess it up, and I don't want to have to see him again, and my parents will be mad at—"

Santana pulls her into a hug. "Shh baby, it's fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. He's not going to come back, anyways. He's afraid of my brothers." Holding Brittany tight, she signals to her brothers that the discussion is over.

Miguel's blood boils. What had this asshole done to her? "Yeah Britt. Nothing you don't want to." He tries to keep the anger out of his voice.

"You do have to call us, though. I want you to put all of our numbers in your phone," Luis speaks up, anger even less contained than Miguel's. "If you get any idea that he's about to show up or if he contacts you, you call us right away. I mean it, Brittany. I will not let him hurt you or Santana again. But you have to promise to call. Okay? Promise me."

"I promise," Brittany says meekly, grateful but still worked up and embarrassed. Luis pulls her in for a hug, noting that Santana hasn't let go of Brittany's hand, so he pulls her in too.

When they get home, they put their muddy clothes in the wash and change into sweats. Then, they meet in the game room and put in another scary movie. Although Brittany is a bit reserved at first, barely watching the movie and wrapping herself around Santana, she soon, in true Brittany form, bounces back. During a particularly scary part of the movie, she starts tickling Santana to distract herself. Santana's answering squeals and Brittany's giggles earn them a smack to the heads with a pillow and a gruff "shut up" from one of her giant brothers, who's snuggled under a blanket with sheep on it. She laughs at him, which earns her another smack.

After the movie, they play a few rounds of a card game called Spoons, which mostly just involves Santana yelling at the boys for being too rough with Brittany. However, Brittany assures her that it's fine and all part of the game, so Santana backs off. A little. But she still glares. A lot.

Then, when her brothers are distracted by Mass Call of Duty or whatever they're playing, Santana backs Brittany up against a wall. She didn't intend to do so, but soon, they're kissing. "Gross! Stop!" Santana hears yelled behind her. She reluctantly pulls away after placing one more small, sweet kiss at the corner of Brittany's smiling mouth. The girls sit on the couch to watch them defeat dragons or zombies or whatever, but they're infinitely distracted by each other. Small kisses are stolen and silly sweet things whispered into ears, until they're hit with another pillow.

"Seriously. You two are gross. Get a frickin' room."

"We would, but all you assholes would still be here."

"Santana, I would much rather go through life pretending you are an asexual being. While I know that's not true, please stop referencing your sex life with your very innocent-seeming girlfriend, who is already like another sister to me. It makes me want to puke. Nasty." Brittany is simultaneously amused and touched by Gabe's words. He doesn't speak much, but when he does, it's usually pretty awesome. After that, they try to keep their touches and looks to a minimum but, judging by the amount of pillows they're hit with, fail to do so.