Bright sunlight forced its way under Brittany's closed eyes on Saturday morning, turning her eyelids red and waking her up. She rolled over, intent on getting in one last cuddle before the day began, but her arm unexpectedly fell on cool sheets. Her eyes popped open. Santana was already up.
Throwing on a pair of Santana's shorts and one of Santana's tank tops (the brunette would like it; all her clothes showed off a significant amount of Brittany's skin), she made her way into the living room.
Santana was already sitting on the couch staring at the laptop screen, a coffee cup in her hand. It was halfway to her lips but rested in midair, forgotten.
"How long have you been up?" Brittany asked quietly, not wanting to startle her. She sat down next to the brunette, took the cup from its midair resting place, and took a sip. It was strong.
"Not long. I just couldn't sleep anymore. I was too excited to call her."
Brittany felt a little disappointed. She'd wanted to be there for the phone call, no matter how nervous she felt about what could come of it. "Did you reach her?" She set the coffee cup down and looked expectantly at Santana.
"I was waiting for you, of course, silly. I just couldn't lay there anymore, that's all."
Brittany just smiled and looked at Santana's phone on the coffee table. Picking it up, the brunette slowly dialed the numbers.
"Turn it on speaker," Brittany requested quietly. She wanted to hear the conversation for herself.
After four rings, someone picked up. "Hello?"
The voice was slow but clear. It belonged to a woman.
Brittany watched Santana take a deep breath before she spoke back.
"Hi, may I speak with Grace Kirk, please?"
Brittany held her breath, struggling internally. Please be Grace. Please be a wrong number.
"This is Grace. May I help you?"
Exhale. Grace's voice sounded kind and resonated with age.
Brittany watched Santana let out a long breath as well. They were both nervous.
"Mrs. Kirk, my name is Santana Lopez," she said carefully. She sounded much like she did at the office. "I'm calling, because I have something that used to belong to…a friend of yours."
Brittany recognized the need for the pause. What should they call Maggie? Lover? Ex? Friend?
"I'm sorry, dear, I don't quite understand."
Santana nodded as if Grace could see her.
"I know this sounds crazy, but I have a diary. It used to belong to someone named Maggie, and Maggie wrote a lot about her very good friend Grace. I think the Grace she wrote about is you."
A long pause. Brittany could have sworn she'd heard Grace gasp, but she also thought it may have been her imagination.
"You…have Maggie's diary?" The old woman's voice sounded shaky.
"It was left behind, in a box of things in the apartment I moved into some months back. I don't know how it got there."
Another pause. This one was shorter.
"How did you find me?"
Santana smiled. "That," she said after another huge breath, "is a long story." She looked from the phone in her hands to the blonde sitting across from her. "Mrs. Kirk," she returned her gaze to the phone, "I'm the one who found the diary, but I think you should have it. It did belong to your best friend, after all."
This time, there was an unmistakable, audible sniff from the other end of the line.
"Thank you. I would like that very much."
Santana nodded again. "I'll bring it to you myself."
Wait, what?
"If it's okay with you, Mrs. Kirk, I'd like to hear your side of the story."
A small chuckle came through the connection.
"I'm sure you would, my dear."
For the next few minutes, they arranged the delivery of the journal. Brittany couldn't believe Santana was actually going to bring it to Grace. She was getting on a plane to meet an 89-year old stranger to deliver the 71-year old thoughts of another stranger. Then again, Brittany figured she shouldn't be surprised. The story was so important to her.
When Santana hung up, she wore the same smile she did after winning a case. Victory. She was going to get the whole story, firsthand. That was definitely a win for Santana Lopez.
"I can't believe you're flying to Georgia," Brittany said from her place on the couch. Santana picked up the coffee cup and downed the rest of it.
"You mean we're flying to Georgia," she replied happily. She gave Brittany a swift kiss on the lips before taking her coffee cup to the pot and refilling it.
Wait, what?
Almost a week had passed since that phone call with Grace. After spending her week off from work, Brittany returned for only four days instead of five. On Friday morning, instead of sitting with voicemails and a calendar on the 17th floor of the skyscraper, she was sitting with Maggie's journal in her lap and Santana's hand in hers in the cabin of a huge plane. There had been no convincing Santana not to pay for her plane ticket. Once the woman set her mind to something, there really wasn't any changing it.
However, she did accept Santana's suggestion of paying her back with something other than money. The whole week, she'd been chipping away at her debt every night in Santana's bed. It almost made her wish the plane ticket had been more expensive.
Not long after the plane took off, Brittany was looking out the window at the white clouds below (Santana hadn't wanted the window seat). Santana had taken the journal from Brittany's lap and was perusing it yet again with one hand, the other absentmindedly stroking Brittany's palm.
The sound of the book snapping shut diverted Brittany's attention from the clouds. She looked over. "What are you thinking about?"
Santana's fingertips were still swirling around in Brittany's upturned palm. "I was just thinking about Maggie and Grace. We're about to know once and for all what happened."
Brittany nodded. It was almost overwhelming.
"I was also thinking," she continued, her voice a few octaves lower, "that plane sex with you could be really fun…if you keep quiet enough."
Well, then. There went the lazy, complacent feeling Brittany had gotten from her cloud-watching.
"Is that a challenge?"
She felt her skin warming up at the grin Santana threw her way.
"It most definitely is."
Santana leaned in and kissed the blonde, letting her tongue sneak in Brittany's mouth just long enough for Brittany to be left unsatisfied. With that, she got out of her seat and made her way to the back of the plane.
Brittany waited a few seconds. Was she the kind of person who had sex on a plane?
She thought of Santana's tongue in her mouth just now. Yes. Yes, she was that kind of person.
After eight more seconds, she got out of her seat as well.