"What do you want, Noah?" Rachel asks when the boy appears out of nowhere as she is retrieving her things from her locker.

"I need your help with Santana again," the boy says.

Rachel blanches dramatically. "My help? As much as I hate to admit it, I am almost certain my sure-fire advice did not work last time."

"If it was sure-fire, why didn't it work?"

Because Santana was already with someone else, and she still is, Rachel thinks. "I don't know, Puck," she sighs, knowing she can't say anything else. She hates that Puck is asking her for help she can't provide, because he wants something he could never have. If she were to tell him that, though, the two scariest and most popular girls in school would tear her apart for spilling their secret. Plus, she would never out anyone.

"Whatever. I still need your help. Santana is single again, and I really want her back."

"So what do you need me for?"

"You're a girl. What should I do to, like, woo her and make her fall in love with me?"

"I don't know. A boy has never tried to woo me before," she replies almost bitterly.

"Well, if a boy did, what would you want him to do?"

She answers without hesitation. "He couldn't do any one act. He would have to prove himself over time, so I knew he really liked me. I'd want him to first give me flowers, preferably white roses. Then, after a few days, perhaps I'd like a box of chocolates, which is, as you know, always romantic. After that, maybe a heartfelt poem or two. I'm sure you catch my drift," she finally finishes.

"Whoa. That sounds like a lot of work."

"Well, that's what it takes to get a lady, although I'd hardly call Santana that." She mumbles the last part. "If you're not serious about this, then don't try." As much as she dislikes Santana, she feels a little guilty about what she's doing now. Puck is a manwhore, and she almost feels sorry for fueling his behavior.

"I am serious! I really want her back. My rep has gone way down, and no other girl even compares to how hot she is. I'm sure she's desperate for some action too, now that she's single." He smirks.

Rachel just sighs. "Well, I've given you all the advice that I can offer, Noah," she says before promptly walking away. What did she just do?


Brittany is simply elated. She can't remember a time in her life when she was happier, other than when Santana agreed to be her girlfriend, or when they went on their first date, or when they finally consummated their relationship this morning. Basically, a lot of her happiest memories are of Santana.

She was never a relationship person. While she used to roll her eyes at those annoying couples that couldn't go two seconds without some sort of physical contact, she now knows exactly how they feel. Despite seeing Santana only 20 minutes ago, she already misses her. Her mind wanders back to their morning together.

"Oh god, harder. Fuck me harder, Britt! Fuck," Santana moans loudly. Brittany thrusts and licks harder to meet her demands. The smaller girl is moaning and gasping incoherent words, making the blonde feel absolutely on top of the world. Brittany's panties are completely ruined, but she doesn't care. All she cares about is making Santana feel good. "Fuck! Brittany!" Santana screams as she climaxes.

Hearing this goddess—her goddess—scream her name like that is almost enough to send Brittany over the edge with her. The Latina's chest heaves up and down almost violently until her body finally relaxes into the sheets.

"Hi," Brittany giggles.

"Hi," Santana replies lazily. "That was so fucking awesome. Thank you," she says cutely before cuddling into Brittany.

Mid-orgasm Santana is the hottest, most beautiful creature she has ever seen, and post-orgasm Santana is the most adorable thing ever. Brittany wraps her arms around her girlfriend, hoping that they will be in this exact position many more times in the future.

Brittany sighs as she remembers. She wishes that they had just skipped school and stayed in bed. Never before had giving pleasure felt better than receiving it. She can't stop thinking about how incredible it felt to be inside Santana, and God, she can't wait for Santana to be inside her. Brittany shifts uncomfortably in her chair as she gets more and more turned on by her own thoughts. Santana is so amazing, and not just the sex part. The only downside to their relationship is that they have to keep it a secret, but it's worth it. Santana is worth it.

"Umm, e-excuse me, B-Brittany? Class is over, and y-you're in my s-seat," a sophomore girl says shakily.

"Hmm?" the blonde hums before looking at the clock. "Oh sorry, I didn't realize the time." With that, she stands up and leaves, eager to see Santana again.

The girl looks at her retreating back, shocked. Brittany Pierce smiling? And apologizing? What just happened?

Brittany walks down the hallway, her happiness and excitement increasing with each step until she finally spots her girlfriend. However, Santana hasn't noticed her yet. "Hi!" she calls loudly as she grips the brunette's shoulders.

A surprised Santana yelps cutely before turning around. "Britt!" Although she tries to look mad at Brittany scaring the crap out of her, she can't help the smile that tugs at her lips.

"Sorry." Not looking or sounding very apologetic, Brittany bites her lip as she stares at Santana's lips. The blonde is immediately overwhelmed by the desire to press her own lips against them.

"B," Santana warns, knowing what Brittany's stare means. "You know we can't."

"I know. I'm just looking." Brittany's eyes start to wander south. As they roam over Santana's neck, Brittany swears she can taste her salty skin. Then, they travel to her exposed cleavage, and Brittany remembers how perfectly her breasts fit in her hand and how her hard nipple felt in her mouth. A rush of heat passes towards her center as her gaze continues its journey, past Santana's covered stomach, down to the apex of her legs. She can practically feel the clenching around her fingers, the intoxicating scent and taste of her pus—

"Hey Britt, you should probably stop eye-fucking Santana before you two get it on in the middle of the hallway," Quinn's voice interrupts as she joins them.

Brittany stares a little longer before registering that someone is trying to talk to her. "What?" Her blonde hair whips backwards as she raises her head, only to meet Santana's fiery gaze. Unadulterated lust has turned the cheerleader's warm brown eyes almost black, and her chest is moving up and down rapidly.

"Hey! Guys, I'm right here," Quinn exclaims, snapping her fingers in front of their faces.

"What do you want?" Santana sneers.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you two in a secret relationship?"

"Yeah. So? It's not like we were making out or anything," Brittany grumbles, disappointed by her own words.

"So I'm pretty sure Mr. Kinney could feel your sexual tension from down in the basement. I'm surprised your clothes didn't catch fire with how intense you were staring at each other."

Santana opens her mouth to respond with something snarky, but the words die before they reach her lips. Brittany's pale cheeks become even more flushed than they were.

"Excuse me?" a new voice chimes in.

"Berry," Brittany acknowledges, though it lacks its usual bite.

Santana immediately straightens herself up and arches an impatient eyebrow at the shorter brunette. "Well? Are you just going to stand there and gawk? What do you want?"

"Umm, sorry. I need to talk to you about something important." Rachel tosses a small glance at Quinn, wondering if she knows what her best friends are up to.

Following her line of sight, Brittany smirks. "See something you like, dwarf? Tired of striking out on the sausage side of things? I admire your gutsiness. Quinn is a total catch, though way out of your league."

Rachel's eyes widen at her implication. "That's not...no. I don't swing that way," she says quickly.

"Stop teasing her, Britt." Quinn rolls her eyes.

"Sure, Mom."

Rachel suddenly steps closer, then says in a low voice, "Brittany, it's about that, umm, that thing that happened at the car wash."

Brittany's eyes immediately narrow, but before she can say anything, Santana cuts in. "First of all, you're about 20 times too close to my girl here, and secondly, what did I say about mentioning that, hobbit?" she practically growls as she moves into the tiny space between the two.

"I know you said not to speak or ask questions about it, but Santana—"

"But nothing, Berry."

"San, just hear her out for a second," Quinn suggests.

After glaring at Quinn, Santana grumbles incoherently for a few seconds, then turns to Rachel. "10 seconds." Once again, Rachel glances at Quinn, and Santana catches on. "Anything you need to say to us can be said in front of her. You have five seconds left."

"Puck came to me for advice to get you back!"

"That's it?" Santana scoffs.

"What?"

"Puck's been playing this game since freshman year. I can handle him."

"Look, he seemed really serious about getting you back. He said he was going to 'woo' you, although I have absolutely no clue where he got that idea from. Anyways, I just wanted to warn you." Here, she pauses to glance at Brittany, who looks seriously pissed. "Both of you."

"Well, maybe you should—" Santana starts.

"Thanks for the tip, Rachel. Really," Brittany interjects. "But we can take it from here."

Cowering under her still-angry blue stare, Rachel nods quickly. "Of course. Will I see you at Glee tomorrow, Santana?"

"Well, considering you went against our agreement—"

"But I was trying to help you!"

"Chill out. I'll be there, just not for you." Santana throws a sideways glance at her girlfriend, who smiles back, though it seems a little forced.

"Okay. I look forward to seeing you both then," Rachel states and nods formally before walking away.

"Jeez, that girl is so dramatic," Santana scoffs. Then, she sees the look on Brittany's face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replies in a tone that indicates it is certainly not nothing. She refuses to look at Santana, whose eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"You are so clueless." Quinn rolls her eyes as the bell rings. "I'll leave you two alone to talk."

Santana looks at her retreating friend and then to her clearly upset girlfriend. "Hey," she coos, stroking up and down her arm. It's really the only thing she can do without giving them away. Any more physical contact, and she'd just want to melt into the blonde. "What's wrong?"

"I hate Puck," Brittany deadpans.

Santana's eyes widen at her bluntness. "Babe, you don't have anything to worry about. I want you." I love you.

"It's not you I'm worried about," she replies bitterly.

They both fall quiet and watch suspiciously as a kid walks close by. The hallways are pretty empty since class just started, but there are still a handful of people walking around. "Do you want to go talk somewhere else?" Santana suggests.

For the first time since Puck was mentioned, Brittany cracks a smile, though it looks more like a smirk. "Ms. Lopez, are you suggesting we skip class?"

"Britt, I would do anything to make sure you're not sad," Santana says genuinely.

The dancer's expression changes to an unreadable one. "Sure. Let's go." Brittany holds out her hand, and Santana looks around before deciding that it's safe to take it. Immediately, Brittany turns and pulls, walking quickly to their destination.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

As they wind through the hallways, Santana finally realizes where they are headed. "The auditorium?"

"Mhm," Brittany hums as she pushes through the doors. "Sometimes, I come here to think and be alone. No one ever comes in here during the day except the Glee kids, and, well, they wouldn't be able to see me anyways."

When they reach the back of the auditorium, Brittany suddenly removes her hand from Santana's.

Immediately missing the warmth, the brunette takes it back. Brittany looks at her, surprised, but gives her a cute smile before squeezing her hand. "It's a little dark, so hold on tight." With that, the blonde leads her through yet another door, but it is pitch black inside. "We'll be going upstairs for a little while."

After climbing for a few minutes, Santana is fairly winded and thinks pessimistically that the stairs will never end. The only reason she can even climb the damn things is because of her tight hold on Brittany.

Finally, the blonde announces, "We're here."

"Uhh, I still can't see a thing."

"Patience, San."

Santana doesn't know how she does it in the complete darkness, but Brittany manages to give her a chaste kiss right on the lips. Before the brunette can do anything, another door is opened, and the dim light from the stage enables her to see, just barely. They continue to walk in silence, and Brittany leads her down a narrow path.

Finally, their surroundings brighten, and Santana can see where they are. "Holy shit," she breathes. They are about three stories above the whole auditorium, and she can see all the seats and the stage below them. Railed and grated walkways cross the giant room.

"Come on!" Brittany exclaims excitedly, pulling away and moving towards one of the walkways.

"Are you crazy? I don't want to fall!"

"You won't fall, San. I promise."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"100%. I come up here all the time."

"Yeah, but that's just you. What if my added weight is too much?"

"S, you weigh like, what, 100 pounds? They usually have a whole crew of guys up here during performances and stuff."

"Alright," she relents, following her girlfriend out. "Oh my god, Britt!" she screams when the blonde suddenly drops.

"Relax, San! I'm just sitting down. Now come here." Her legs are spread, and she motions for Santana to sit between them.

"This position seems familiar," the Latina comments as she settles back into Brittany, and the blonde entwines their hands and lays them on her waist. Santana sighs contentedly. This is where she feels most at peace, in Brittany's arms.

"Yeah, except the situation we're in now is the exact opposite from when we were first like this."

"So do you want to tell me what made you so upset?" Santana asks tentatively.

"Nothing. It's stupid," Brittany mumbles into her hair, unintentionally smelling Santana's shampoo but very much enjoying it.

"Hey, stop saying it's nothing. We both know it's something. I won't judge you."

Brittany shifts beneath her and starts playing with her fingers. "It's just, I really hate this situation, San."

"I told you that Puck doesn't matter. He—"

"But he does matter. I trust you, with all my heart," she adds softly, "but that doesn't mean I want to see Puck all over you or trying to 'woo' you."

"If he does try, I'll make sure he stops."

"But you heard Rachel. He really wants you back."

Santana turns around in her arms so that she is kneeling and face-to-face with Brittany. "I don't care what he wants. I told you, I want you. Just you. I know it's hard to see people hit on me. Trust me, it's hard for me to see people hit on you too. But just know that I'm yours. And one day, I'll let everyone know it."

Brittany studies her girlfriend's face, her flawless caramel skin, her full lips, her cute nose, and most importantly, her warm, chocolate brown eyes, so beautiful and genuine.

In that moment, something clicks: she is completely, irrevocably, utterly in love with this girl.

While it scares the shit out of her, mostly, it makes her really, really happy. She loves her, and she can wait for her to be ready. "I'm totally yours too," she whispers before leaning in to connect their lips. She means for it to be short and sweet, but when she tries to pull away, Santana chases her. Her head softly hits the railing behind her as the brunette deepens the kiss.

Then, hands start to roam. Pale ones slowly stroke up and down sides, and tan ones cup cheeks. When Brittany clutches her waist, Santana moans and pokes her tongue out, searching for permission, which Brittany grants without hesitation.

The Latina shifts so that she is straddling the blonde. Their breathing picks up, and they press closer together, clothed breasts bumping and rubbing against each other. This time, it's Brittany's turn to moan when Santana fully grinds their centers together. "Santana," she whines desperately.

"What do you say to ditching the rest of the day?" the brunette pants.

"I say my house is empty until 4:00."

"What time is it now?"

"I don't know. 10:40?" Brittany can barely get the words out, she's so tightly wound. The throbbing between her legs from earlier in the day has come back with a vengeance.

Santana just looks at her, lust and arousal darkening her brown eyes. "Awesome."