Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.8k
Summary: She really is here. Brittany is here, and you think over the past 10 years without her, trying to figure out how destiny didn't bring you back together sooner, but you guess it just wasn't the right time.
Notes: Love all your feedback, and that you love Brittany. I fucking adore writing her when she's protective and fierce, and re-reading this fic made me generous, so here's another chapter. Enjoy :)
/
You go back to LA the next morning.
The flight is short, and Brittany acts like yesterday never happened. She doesn't talk about your abuela or bring up that you've met someone – you don't even get to explain that you've only been on a date and a half so it's not serious – but because she doesn't, you choose it's best not to either.
Even if you were in her shoes, you think you'd want to know everything. Hell, you acted like it when she went on that date with the creepy sales rep, but you know that Brittany's always handled things differently to you – last night is proof of that – and you're downright terrified if you try to talk about it, that she'll shut down on you like she did last night when she turned away to go to sleep.
That was painful. After she turned around, she fell asleep after about ten minutes, but you didn't. You just stared at the ceiling, feeling the time pass slowly as you tried to piece together how you felt, but came to no conclusion.
The whole weekend was rushed, was full of drama that's made your head spin and spin until you're lost in your thoughts, unable to keep up the light conversation Brittany tries to keep going on the journey, and you weren't sure how to deal with it, and still aren't.
It shows, because when you get back to her building, you take her luggage out the back and she stands awkwardly on the sidewalk, staring at you like she doesn't know how to say goodbye. You feel that too, as you were touching her non-stop the entire weekend, but now you've mentioned that you're going on a date with someone else, it feels like there's a barrier there now.
A barrier that is definitely needed, but a barrier you don't like.
But you're sure you'll grow to live with it. Just because you two slept together again, fought against your abuela, and came out triumphant, doesn't mean that you two are anything more than best friends. It doesn't mean that you've had some sudden revelation where you can say you have feelings for her, even though you know you definitely at least still have a soft spot, but that's to be expected when she's the mother of your child.
That's all you'll allow yourself to feel, as this is hard to deal with by itself, and you felt this way when she dated that Jean guy and bit your tongue, so she can't tell you there's a problem with you doing the same.
You don't do dating, and that still stands, and there's a part of you that's desperately hoping she knows that.
"So, when's your date?"
It's unexpected, and you freeze, bent over as you drop her luggage to the sidewalk, eyes slowly dragging up to meet blue ones. "What?"
"Your date," Brittany replies and it's the first time she's bringing it up, so you don't know how you feel. There were plenty of opportunities to do this, but you suppose you're a few minutes way from going your separate ways, so if she's asking now, you know why. She can contain her reactions until she goes inside. "I'm guessing that was what the call was about last night."
You squint at her, confusion pulsing through you. "It was," you confirm and suck your lips into your mouth, straightening up and shoving your hands in your jacket. You don't know why she's asking, but you won't find a way out of it. "Tomorrow night."
Brittany inhales sharply through her nose, but there's a smile on her face. "That's good," she says and bobs her head. "What's her name?"
You don't answer for a long moment, trying to find the tell in her face that will let you know she's bothered, but there isn't one, so you answer. "Mona. She's twenty-five, lives in Pasadena and she's a dancer."
"You have a type," she fires back so quickly that you jerk your head back, but there's a smirk at her lips now and you're being thrown from left to right. Is she not bothered by this in a way that you were about Jean? "Well, I hope you have a good time. I'll make sure not to bother you."
It's an explanation as to why she wanted to know – so she doesn't call and interrupt or anything – but you know it's just a cover up. You've known her for long enough to see that, as it's what she used to do when she was a teenager, and it was one of the reasons you used to get so mad when people said she was dumb. She isn't, never has been, and you kind of wish you'd asked more about Jean at the time so you she could ask similar questions and you could explain your side of things.
Not that you need to. You don't, but you just want to say it's only been a coffee and that one date at a bar, and that you still don't do dating, but you don't know why you would want to. You don't need to justify your actions, and neither does she. She made that pretty clear when she went out with the rep, so you bite your tongue and nod your head, sucking your lips into your mouth as she picks up her luggage and leans forward, kissing you on the cheek.
"Maybe we can talk after or whenever," she whispers as she pulls back, and despite all urge to say you'll call her later, you know if she wanted that, she wouldn't have been so elusive with the timings.
"Sure, Britt," you croak and resist the next urge to help her upstairs with her bags.
She's already walking away by the time the thought comes, so you just watch before climbing back into the cab and heading back to your place.
/
You're back in the office, bright and early the next morning.
You have like, a thousand emails and messages left on your phone, and you groan, reminding yourself that you love this job, it allows you to have the life you want, and will really help when the baby comes as no-one else can do it better than you, and that you can't actually strangle Rachel for screwing up over the weekend even though you want to.
She was caught by the paparazzi with someone she shouldn't be with, of the most prestigious restaurants in town, looking all types of cutesy with him and you dial her number, calling her into the office ASAP, not even bothering with niceties as you're going to have to lecture her again.
You would've thought she learned after the whole gigolo thing came out, but apparently not.
Anyway, about an hour later, she comes in with sunglasses over her head, looking put together and pristine and for a second, you roll your eyes as if she could keep this façade up all the time, there'd never be any issues for you to deal with. However, just as you're about to start yelling at her, she throws her purse down on your desk, taking the seat opposite you and flicks her sunglasses up on to her head, looking all kinds of unimpressed.
Which, really? You're supposed to be the one with judgement in your eyes right now.
"Where have you been?"
You scoff, leaning back into the chair and shaking your head at her. "Pretty sure I should be asking you that question."
Rachel wrinkles her nose up before the light bulb clicks on above her head, but being typical Rachel Berry, she doesn't see a problem with her actions and literally waves you off. "Maybe if my publicist was around, the pap's wouldn't have caught me," she tries but you throw her a glare.
"I have a personal life, Berry," you remind her, and she makes a noise of derision, folding her arms over her chest and eying you from across the desk. "And I was in Ohio," you explain and lean forward again, resting your elbows on your desk. "Telling my parents about the baby, with Britt."
Her eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and you see the guilt flash across her face. "Oh," she says, and you raise your brows at her. "I guess I can let you off this time," she rolls her eyes, and you laugh through your nose. She's unbelievably selfish and sometimes it shocks you even though it shouldn't anymore. "Did it go okay?"
You chew on the inside of your cheek, dropping your gaze to the desk as you think of an answer. Technically, yeah, in the end it did go well. Your parents were supportive when you left Lima yesterday morning, your dad hugging you this time (which shocked the hell out of you) and your mom crying, saying she'll be visiting you as much as you need, and giving Brittany her phone number in case she needs to ask pregnancy related questions.
However, alongside the good, came the bad. Your abuela waltzed back in your life for a few hours, just to walk back out of it on a negative note like she did a decade ago, and if you're honest, that was easier to deal with than the cold shoulder Brittany gave you the night before. That was probably the worst part of the weekend, but you guess you got what you went for and that's the part you'll explain.
"In the end, yeah," you bob your head and inhale deeply, shaking the creeping heaviness shooting up your spine as you called Rachel here for a reason, and it wasn't to talk about your trip, but she doesn't seem to have the same mindset.
"What happened? How did they react?"
You press your lips together, really not wanting to discuss this with her as you do your best to keep her at arm's length – needing to split the personal from professional – and you usually don't let this side come out when you're in your office. People stare at you all day long, especially when Rachel's in here as she doesn't swing by too often, but there's something in her face, like an understanding and you can't deny, you kind of need it.
She's the only one who's never asked if the history you have with Brittany is going to make having a baby hard, and you know if you talk to Mercedes or Kurt about it, they'll just give you that knowing look that'll make you want to punch them in the throat as this weekend goes to prove it. Rachel won't do that, though, as she's probably way too self-involved to even think about it, but she's not that bad when it comes to stuff like this.
Sometimes she can be your friend, so you shake your head, letting out a huff and lean back into your seat, and the truth comes out. "Not great at first," you swallow and her brows furrow. "It was their wedding anniversary, and they threw a big party, and my dad didn't want to be embarrassed, so he told everyone that Britt and I were engaged to save face apparently," you explain and Rachel gasps, hand pressed to her chest. You don't let her talk though, just roll your eyes and continue. "Turns out, it was because my abuela was in town and well, you know what happened with her."
Back when you first moved to the city, when all your friends were working entry level jobs and nowhere near as successful as they are now, you and Rachel used to be super close. You had a strange sisterly bond, where you'd snap and she'd cry, but you had this trust and one drunken night, you told her about your coming out story. She was actually kind of cool about it, and that was one of the reasons you befriended her despite all urge to tear your arm off just to have something to throw at her most of the time, so you know she understands.
"As expected, she wasn't that cool about it once she found out the truth."
"That sounds…" Rachel trails off and wrinkles her upper lip. "Messy."
You clear your throat and sit upright in your seat. Understatement of the century. "Yeah, it was, but it's fine now."
Rachel still looks dubious. "How?"
"It just is, dwarf," you hiss and to her credit, she doesn't even seem thrown off by your tone and instead leans forward in her seat, one leg crossing over the other and cocks her head to the side, eyes soft and expression understanding.
"Santana, you can tell me."
You press your tongue to the back of your teeth, looking at her and not seeing the Rachel Berry you work for. This is the girl that you bonded with years ago, that hired you and made you into the successful publicist you are today and there's a lot of bad things about her, but you know she's a good friend when she manages to pull her head out of her own ass. She's occasionally kind, and understanding, but as much as you want to be honest with her – you feel like you need to get it off your chest – you know that you shouldn't.
You don't want to explain that Brittany stood up for you, or that you ruined the progress you two had made in your relationship by telling her about Mona. You don't want Rachel to offer opinions that you don't need to hear because they're already in your head, and the last thing you need is for her to side with Kurt and Mercedes, so you lock it down and keep it deep inside.
"I know, but it turned out fine, so it doesn't matter."
Rachel doesn't seem too pleased, pressing her lips together and frowning deeply at you. "Is that it?"
"Yeah," you breathe out, way too quickly for it to be true and she eyes you through narrowed slits. "My parents are good with it now, I still don't have an abuela, but I really don't care, and Britt and I are good," you swallow, feeling like the last part is a lie as she didn't call you last night, nor this morning and that's bothering you more than you'd like to admit. Although she did say she didn't want to disturb your date or whatever, but it's not until tonight so she wouldn't be, but you don't think that's why your phone hasn't gone off. "We also got like, loads of money and crap from my relatives, and free cash is free cash, so."
She watches you for a few moments, like she's waiting for you to say something else, but you're not going to. You came out the weekend on a better note than expected in some ways, worse in others, but you don't want to think about that. You don't want to be filled with doubt about your impending date because you have no need to be. Even when you dropped Brittany off to her apartment, she seemed to be happy for you – or at least was pretending to be – and asked questions about Mona, and if you start doubting that, you'll start doubting everything and back out of tonight.
So that's a road you're good not to go down.
"Let me get this straight," Rachel begins, her voice strong and full of accusation already. "You went back to your hometown, with your ex-girlfriend and baby momma," she starts listing things and you take a deep breath, knowing where this is going. "Where you fell in love as teenagers, had to pretend you were back together to be accepted by your family, and saw your abuela after ten years," she pauses for dramatic effect. "And all you have to say is 'free cash is free cash'," she does a mimicry of your voice, but you scowl at her. You sound nothing like that. "Seriously?"
You know she's calling you out on it, and in all fairness, she should be. You've left out large gaps of what happened at the weekend, but the end of the story is that your parents are cool with it and that was the point of the trip. Some of the things that happened along the way weren't planned, but even the best laid plans often go awry, and as much as you want to get this thing off your chest and ask Rachel what she thinks about the whole Brittany part of it, she doesn't know Brittany and like you said, it might start her off on the path that Kurt and Mercedes are so set on.
So you choose to bypass it with a bob of your head and a strained, "Yeah."
Rachel wrinkles her nose up at you again and shakes her head, like she's disappointed but this is so not why you called her in here. "You're messed up, Santana."
"Shut up," you throw back at her and she cracks a smile as you slip back into publicist mode. "So why were you with Brody?"
The topic of Brittany slips away, or rather Rachel sees you're not going to indulge her and her massive nose poking itself into your business and slumps back in her chair. "I didn't know he was going to be there, and I got a little cuddly because I was drunk," she explains, and you can tell by her face, she's being honest. "But I told him this morning if he came near me again, I'd take out a restraining order, just like you requested."
You let out a hum of approvement and reach over to your laptop, flicking it on before your eyes slide to her, showing the satisfaction you're feeling from her response. "Good, now let's talk auditions."
/
A few weeks go by, and you're somehow kind of seeing Mona now.
You've told her about Brittany already – that happened on the third date – and she wasn't bothered by it all, just asked if she should be concerned but you said no. There was no reason to be, still isn't, but you made sure not to tell her about how many times you've slept together since as well... awkward and you and Brittany did say there was no need to discuss your sex lives with anyone, including your friends who knew about it before, so you didn't feel bad for leaving out that information.
But anyway, you have been on several dates with Mona and she's cool, and you're not really sure what's going on with you two as you don't date, but this is the furthest you've been with someone in a while. All you know is she's hot, she's funny, and totally your type on paper, and you enjoy spending time with her, but you've made a point not to talk to Brittany about it as it makes your stomach turn.
Probably because of her reaction at your parents' house a few weeks ago, despite her pretending to be cool about it when you two were outside her building, and so you can't bring yourself to update her, and she hasn't asked. Maybe it's just one of those things you're just going to avoid discussing, and you two have talked so much about dating, and how you should take advantage of not having a baby to do so, that you don't feel like it's necessary. She did go on that one date with the pharmaceutical rep after all.
However, it's one day when you're walking into Brittany's apartment after picking up some groceries that Mona comes up for the first time, and not in the way you expect.
You slide the key into the lock and the door opens, and the immediate sight you're presented with is Brittany, bent over, fingers touching her toes in the front room, in what looks like a yoga pose and heat flushes through you as your vision locks on to her ass.
The breath catches in your throat, and your body goes on automatic as it leads you over to the kitchen counter, hands depositing the grocery bag on top and it takes a few seconds, but then blue eyes slide to you between long legs as the blonde continues stretching, but she doesn't straighten up as you fold your arms over your chest and stare unabashedly at her this time, and you swear, you almost fucking die when she flashes you a smirk, upside down.
The last time you saw her bent over like that, you were behind her, inside her, and that's so not what you should be thinking right now, and so you avert your gaze to the ceiling as she straightens up, turning to face you with a smirk still playing at her lips. She's wearing a sports bra, revealing the slight bump as she's now showing more, but she's still achingly beautiful and somehow even more attractive and it's really fucking annoying that pregnancy has made her glow.
Especially when you walk into her doing pregnancy yoga or whatever the hell she was just doing.
(You can think of other ways for her to exercise.)
"Hey," she whispers and lets her face roam around your face like she knows what was going through your head as she wanders over. Or rather, is still going through your head. She's way too close and wearing far too little not to think about that. "I didn't hear you come in."
You cock a brow at her, calling silent bullshit as she remained bent over when she looked at you, but she just grins. "You're an ass," you say with amusement in your tone. "What were you doing anyway?"
Brittany holds your eye, squinting slightly. "Pregnancy Pilates," she answers and sweeps an arm out to the television you didn't even realise was on. You really didn't notice anything else in the room when you walked in. "Quinn said it might help train my pelvic muscles for when I go into labour."
You nod your head, but you already know that (and you're super aware that she really doesn't need help training her pelvic muscles) and you put most of your focus is going into holding yourself as she's basically half naked, was just bent over and you two haven't had sex since you were at your parents' house and you're very aware of that, too. She is as well, because she's still smirking, and the shade of her eyes is getting darker, and you really need to not look at her or impulse will take over and just no.
You're seeing someone and she knows it and you really shouldn't be having sex a regular thing, regardless of relationship status. Which, speaking of, you haven't had sex with Mona yet either – for reasons you don't want to think about – and it's really getting to you, so you're going to put your inability to resist checking her out, down to that.
(As if.)
"Just be careful," you reply, mind flicking over the few facts you Googled about exercising in the first trimester. That's a safe way out of this. "Don't wanna push your body this early on."
Brittany studies you for a long minute before heading to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water, and holding one out to you. You take it, even though you're not parched or anything, but she just lifts her shoulder and grins and it's a step away from the atmosphere that was making your skin flare up, so you'll take it.
Or so you thought.
"You looked a little... thirsty," she explains without you asking, and it only takes a few seconds for the real meaning to kick in, the heat returning full force. She doesn't mean drink kind of thirsty and a devilish glint sparkles at you in blue eyes as she bites down on her bottom lip, allowing the unspoken words to sink in until your mouth is dropping open. She's fucking flirting with you, and she used that exact line when you were teenagers, so you have reference. "And I won't push it... You saw me, I'm just stretching, and my body is used to way worse," she continues, hopping on to a stool and taking a sip of water in a nonchalant manner.
You gulp and make the wise decision to skip over the flirting as memories of her wonderful flexibility shoot through your mind; you really don't think you can flirt as your urges will no doubt take over and with the way she's looking at you, you don't think she'd reject any advances, and neither would you.
You can already feel a familiar pressure low in your spine, and you just came over to drop over some groceries, but it's really hard to remember that when she's fucking grinning at you and not even bothering to hide that she knows exactly where your mind went when you walked in. So hard in fact, that you find yourself blurting out the only thing you can think of that doesn't involve suggesting you move this conversation to the bedroom.
"Okay, just be safe," you get out, voice strained, and you unscrew the bottle cap, chugging back a large gulp – your mouth is dry as hell now; you think that's why she gave you the bottled water – and ignoring the arousal curdle in your stomach.
She doesn't drop it though, just cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes slightly. "I will be," she entreats and sets her water on the side, fingers wrapped around it and thumb sweeping away the droplet of condensation trickling down the side, making you want to shudder. You know what it feels like when she does that to your neck. "If you're so concerned, you should join me sometime... I'll show you there's nothing to worry about."
You gulp loudly, grip crushing the plastic in your hand because you know that's so not a good idea and is definitely something to worry about.
You can see it in your head already; you two dressed in work out gear, stretching and bending over in front of each other and you're only freaking human. This pregnancy really has made Brittany glow, and you were overwhelmingly attracted to her prior to that, so combine that with sweaty skin and burning calories with stretches, lunges, and proof of her flexibility, is just going to make your head explode and so you veto that immediately, shaking your head and clearing your throat, trying to find anything to say instead of blushing like a total idiot.
But your brain runs blank, and you look back to Brittany to find her grinning at you knowingly, her eyebrow raising and tongue poking out to wet her lips like she's in your head with you.
That isn't what leaves her mouth though. "How are you and Mona?"
Brown eyes narrow. You don't remember telling Brittany Mona's name more than once, especially as you haven't talked about the elephant in the room since you went to Lima to tell your parents, but this conversation is dangerous enough as is. Apparently, you've unwittingly moved closer to her now and she's about an arm's length away, and with one snap decision and movement, you could throw yourself at her and she's barely wearing anything so it wouldn't be that hard to–
Nope. The temptation is more than enough, and you really can't complete your thoughts, instead choosing to focus on the question asked and bob your head.
"We're good," you reply, keeping the answer short, but you don't know why she's asking. "Still not officially dating, but got a couple dates lined up," you add on for no reason whatsoever, having a minor freak out inside your head because that was totally unnecessary information, but it seems Brittany wanted it anyway as she looks up at you through long lashes, biting her bottom lip. "How are you feeling today?" You quickly follow and turn your attention to the grocery bag on the counter, starting to unpack it as that's the safest thing you can do right now with your hands.
Brittany gets up from the stool, pushing aside the bottle and picks up the items you drop, putting them away where they belong. "I'm okay," she says and blue eyes flash to you. "I was reading one of the books you bought, and apparently the baby is the size of an avocado now."
It's a safe steer away from the tension that formed a minute ago, so you laugh and nod at her, pretending like there isn't heat creeping down your spine and memories of the blonde flashing through your mind. You already know what she just said, as you've read every freaking article there is on Google about pregnancy, but you'll let her have that one. She looks so damn happy and has now stopped helping with the groceries to set her hand over her protruding bump and rubbing it in circles, eyes focused on it as she speaks again.
"He or she might kick soon, too," she follows up, and it replaces the emotion coursing through your body with shock, even though that's another thing you already know.
But hearing it out loud makes you brain tick over until all you can think about is how you two don't live together, don't sleep over at each other's places – not that you've talked about it, but each trip you your parents houses were evidence enough that you two are incapable of being in the same bed – which means that you might miss the baby kicking for the first time. It hits you heavily, making your face scrunch up as your eyes slide to her and she squints, like she knows why you've gone weird.
"They will?"
She nods slowly. "Yeah… Which is kind of why I wanted to ask about you and Mona," she explains and intrigue pulses through you. There was a point to her asking, and you were so caught up in her teasing you that you didn't consider it.
"Why?"
There's a long silence, where she bites her lip and the devilish glint in her eye is long gone, now replaced with something akin to dread. "We haven't exactly talked about us… You know, now you're seeing Mona or whatever."
Yeah, you know. That was kind of on purpose as it makes you feel sick, and you really don't want to think about why.
"Okay…" You take a deep breath and pull her towards the stools, taking one each and keeping a hold of her hand. You don't really get how you two can go from intense flirtation to a serious talk, but you've always flowed like this. "What do you want to know?"
Brittany sucks her lips into her mouth and takes a moment, and you allow it as you're not sure where this is going as now she's mentioned the baby kicking, and the haze of her eye fucking the shit out of you is still very much lingering inside your head and she's still right in front of you. "Well… I was thinking about when the baby kicks for the first time," she breathes and you bob your head along, fingers stroking over the back of her head in a comforting manner. "And how I want you to be there and experience it with me," she finishes and looks you straight in the eye.
You know this is the best friend side of her, and the other parent side, which wants to let you experience everything in a way normal parents that are together do, but you're kind of scared now. Whereas before, you thought the flirtation wasn't intended, you think half of her was testing the waters to see if you'd still react to her and well, fuck. You've always have been and always will be a total sucker for those blue eyes and that fucking smirk, and it's led to discussing the baby kicking the first time, and if you're not around then you won't be able to feel it.
Which makes you think she's going to ask if you can spend more time together, because of that. Like it's not hard enough with the amount of time you spend together already.
FUCK.
So you just need clarity. "What are you saying?"
She takes a deep breath and twists her palms up, fingers sliding through yours and you hate that your body sparks like a live wire at the simple touch. It's kind of distracting. "First off, I just want to say that whilst the hormones have subsided for now… It's still not easy being around you," she says, and you're offended for a whole second before your vision moves from your intertwined hands to her face, finding the darkness behind her eyes again and a too familiar glint.
She feels the same attraction you do, and you gulp loudly. This is so not good.
"So I had to think about this quite a lot before talking to you, but I feel like if we're honest, then we can get through it safely," she follows and you're bobbing your head, even though your mind is running wild and not actually telling it to. "We're only human, and there's obviously still an attraction between us which sometimes leads to us sleeping together," she shrugs like she's not speaking candidly about something that's going to turn you on like a freaking light switch. "But I was thinking you could maybe…" She pauses to take a deep breath, chest rising and holding for a long moment before releasing. "Maybe you could stay over a few nights a week, just in case the baby kicks."
Again, you're nodding without even knowing it. You're fairly sure you glitched out when she talked about you two having sex and you're just running on autopilot, entirely intrigued but scared to say the wrong thing. "Okay…"
"But I also think with our history…" Her head dips and she holds your eyes for a long moment, letting you see the true meaning in her words. She knows this sexual attraction is making things really hard. "It could be dangerous, and I don't think Mona would like to find out that you're staying at your ex-girlfriend-who's-also-your-baby-momma's apartment," she gets out and the corner of your lips twitch up when she smiles goofily, but then it falters, and you narrow your eyes when she tries to hide it. "So I wanted to check if you were like… exclusive."
You don't get why the exclusive thing would matter as you're sure regardless it would be frowned upon if Mona found out, and you're about to ask for clarification but then she lifts a brow at you, and your brain works faster than intended as you think about a certain memory surrounding her words.
/
"Should we really be…" You trailed off, eyes trailing down between your bodies, and she chuckled lowly, urging your face back up with a tilt of her finger. "I mean… You mentioned him so–"
"I'm seeing him, not dating him. We aren't exclusive, nowhere near and it was one date," she iterated, and fingers slid into the hairs at the back of your neck, tightening so she could manipulate your head to tilt back and look up at her. She lowered again, this time with zero resistance from you – she was pulling your freaking hair and that was only turning you on more – and then she was almost kissing you, her lips hovering over yours but instead of moving, she spoke into your mouth through the next breath she took.
"So I think you should get me naked," she purred, and it shot straight to your groin.
/
You're not entirely sure, but you think she's saying that if you and Mona were like, together together, then this would be a hard pass as the temptation would be far too much. Although that leads you to wonder if she's thought about doing it again, but you really don't need to fall down that hole as you two are alone, in her apartment, still with her in barely any clothes and your sexual chemistry has always been off the charts.
Apparently, that's not going to change, and so you get why she mentioned being honest and wanted to talk this out… You think it would've been way too confusing if you were dancing around each other and not talking.
"Oh," leaves your mouth and she lifts her head up, registering that it's sinking in before she bobs it. Still, you really don't to be wrong here, so you're just going to check. "You mean–"
"I mean, on the nights that you're free and want to come over," she cuts in, already knowing where you're going but you're focused on noticing that she's trying not to say with Mona. "That you should stay, just in case the baby kicks but…" She trails off and you're about to accept as hell, as dangerous as it is, you really don't want to miss the baby kicking for the first time but then she's talking again. "You sleep on the sofa."
You weren't expecting her to say that, as you slept in the same bed at her parents, then at yours, and have fallen asleep on the sofa a couple times, but then you're reminded of most of those times and how they went, and you ask silently with a slight narrow of your eyes. She presses her lips together, the corners of them turned up in a guilty smile but again, you really need to make sure you're not getting the wrong end of the stick here and if you're honest, it feels like you're playing with fire and as much as you don't want to enjoy it… You do.
Because it's Brittany's fire you're playing with, and you really don't think she's ever going to burn you.
"I thought you said–"
"I said, I'm human," she interjects, and your mouth drops open, fully knowing she means she'll find it hard to keep her hands off you if you're that close when she holds your eyes and lets you see the cloud in them, formed by thinking about things she probably shouldn't be.
Which normally, wouldn't come as a surprise, but it still does and as much as it's stroking your ego, you know that this is the hard part of sharing history. This is what Mercedes and Kurt were talking about weeks ago when you first revealed that Brittany was pregnant and you kind of wish you hadn't been so ignorant.
They might have had a point. It's really fucking annoying.
"And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about," she follows up and that freaking smirk is playing at her lips again as she taps your hand before sliding off the stool and returning to her feet, not touching you anymore. You think she's showing you how she feels by doing it and your jaw clenches against the heat beneath your skin. Even now she's struggling, and you would say you aren't… but you definitely are. You're human, too. "I know you what was going through your head when you came in."
Brown eyes flash to her, tongue fully prepared to argue that, but she just lifts her eyebrow at you and all the blood drops to your groin, making you pinch your thighs together as you offer her a guilty smile. Fuck it. You do need to be honest, so you're going to do as requested and not even pretend.
"Okay, but you gotta go get changed then," you choose to say and this time, the smirk is wiped off her face. "I'll finish putting the groceries away."
Brittany looks at you for too long, the air sizzling between you but with better judgement, she walks away, and you finally start breathing again properly.
/
There's no talk of staying over until the twenty week scan.
The only reason it even comes up is because you're at the appointment when the midwife asks if you want to know the sex of the baby yet, and the answer throws you off so much that neither of you stop crying and therefore, don't want to leave each other alone.
Anyway, when the midwife asks, you're stunned. You look to Brittany, laying back on the bed, wiping the gel off her stomach and she freezes, hand hovering in the air, blue eyes snapping to you, and you don't know what to say. You've done all the research, you're fully prepared for the action side of things, but the emotional… Well, you know that's one hell of a journey and nothing you can plan for.
So far, you haven't been able to, like when you saw the folder with the first scientific evidence that this wasn't just all words, back at the first pregnancy scan, and it seems you still are completely unable as you just gawk at Brittany until she asks you a question.
"Do you wanna know?"
Yes. Yes, you freaking want to know if you're having a son or a daughter, but your head is scrambled, and you'd forgotten that this is the time that you find out. Amongst all the other information in your head, that one had just sort of slipped away and you and Brittany haven't had the opportunity to discuss this yet. Sure, you've talked about baby names when you were at her parents and had a conversation with your uncle in Lima about them, but otherwise the whole gender thing has gone under the radar and now, you're kind of wishing it hadn't.
Because then you could've prepared yourself for finding this out, but you didn't.
You need to answer though and show that the fear is from a severe lack of preparation, and not because it's going to be super freaking real when you find out which could lead you to bolting out the door in fear. "I mean… If you want to."
Brittany holds your eyes for a long moment, blue darting between brown, probably to see if she can see a lie, but your answer was vague and positive. It was exactly as intended as you're kind of dying to know the sex of the baby, but at the same time, you can see the upside to waiting and getting the surprise. You don't want to force your opinion, as Brittany needs to have her say to, but after sixty seconds or so, the corners of her lip twitches up, and she bites down on her bottom one, moving her head up and down slowly.
She wants to know, too.
"I do," she admits and the midwife grins next to you, but you ignore her in favour of scooting closer to the bed on your stool, grabbing Brittany's hand and turning to the other woman.
"We'd like to know."
The midwife grins at you both, before flipping the folder in her hand shut and throwing you a wink. "I'll be back in a second," she whispers, and you know that means she's going to get the results.
You just take a deep breath.
/
"Are you nervous?"
It's the first thing Brittany's said since the midwife left, and it's been a few minutes of silence since then.
It wasn't awkward though, mostly as you were both processing that you're about to find out if you're having a baby girl or baby boy, and that's rendered you both in a speechless state. However, yours seems to go on for longer – probably as you aren't the one with the life growing in your belly – and when you look to her, you see a softness in her eyes, like she's trying to handle you.
Which you kind of need. You've been waiting for something to freak you out about all of this and it's yet to come.
"Yeah," you say and exhale slowly, trying not to show that you're internally sweating. You think you might be externally sweating though, so it's kind of pointless and even without that, Brittany would be able to tell. She can read you like a book.
"Me too," she admits, and it makes you feel better, but before you can ask anything else, the midwife is returning with another folder in her hand, and all words disappear.
She smiles at you both, walking over until she's right there, next to the bed, and the intensity of the situation somehow increases. Just like it was at the first scan, that beige folder contains news that will be tied to you for eternity. Inside that stupid thing, is the next step in this journey, and dictate whether you go old fashioned and choose pink or blue or get into the new age and go with a gender neutral colour for baby clothes and paint for the nursery – location of which is yet to be determined – like green or yellow.
And you can't help but get even more nervous over it, the blood in your veins spiking to the high limits, your heart beat racing, and you squeeze Brittany's hand, instinctively climbing to your feet and leaning into her until you might as well be on the damn bed with her. She doesn't protect, just cuddles into it and you take a deep breath, nodding your head once at the midwife until she opens the folder and begins taking in the information on the page.
"Ladies," she starts, the word drawn out and there's a gentle smile on her face, but you know regardless of gender it'll be there, so it doesn't give anything away. "You sure you want to know?"
She's been kind and sweet to you both, and even understanding with the whole not-sperm-donor thing, so it wouldn't be fair to spew some venom her way, but you couldn't be teetering on the edge of doing it anymore. You're quite obviously ready, literally braced for the news and so instead, you redirect the urge into bobbing your head at the same time Brittany does and holding your breath.
The midwife dips her head, inhaling deeply and smiling at you both as she says, "It seems like you're having a baby girl. Congratulations."
/
You've been told a lot of things in your life that have rendered you speechless.
Like the time your dad stood up to your abuela when she walked out on you the first and second time. Even when Brittany told you she was pregnant, and when you were twenty-one and got fired from a coffee shop job because you took home the expired pastries at the end of the day which you didn't think was gross misconduct but turned out to be, but you've never quite felt like this.
All of those times made you feel cold inside. All of those times, you were choking on the tears you were trying to hold back and okay, maybe you're technically forcing the heat away from your eyelids now as you repeat those words over and over in your head, but it's so different because this time… This time, the cold is warm, the rush doesn't make you dizzy like you're going to pass out, and you don't think you've ever been so damn happy before, letting out short, spluttered breaths as you think of a tiny baby girl with black hair and the bluest eyes, in your arms.
Because that's what she is. She's a she.
"It's a girl?" You croak out, unable to stop yourself.
Beside you, Brittany sobs loudly, turning her face to bury into your neck and you hold her, but keep your glossy eyes on the midwife as she repeats your words back to you but in the form of an answer, instead of a question. "It's a girl."
And that's the thing that breaks you. Just like Brittany did a second ago, you turn into her and sob loudly, your arms finding your way around each other and you feel the tears that stream down your cheeks. You don't even bother wiping them away, just let them fall as happiness surges through your chest and that's how you stay, hearing the midwife say she'll give you two a minute before disappearing out the door.
You can't believe it.
You're having a girl.
/
The news is so much, that neither you or Brittany can contain it.
Both of you get on your phones, calling your parents and letting them know. Then you're dialling the numbers for your friends, and you go to the other side of the hospital room, listening to Kurt telling you that your gang is coming over tonight for a celebratory pizza night, whilst keeping your eyes trained on Brittany. She's grinning – she hasn't stopped since the crying subsided – and affection rises in your chest so much that you almost forget to reply to your friend and hurry the conversation up.
Then you're back next to Brittany, slipping on to the stool beside the bed and grabbing her hand as she gets off the phone, meeting your eye and sobbing again. You can't help but do it, too – God, you two are pathetic – but you're so happy you just don't care.
"Everyone's coming over for pizza later, that okay?"
Brittany bites her lip, sniffles, and nods her head. "Yeah," she breathes and strokes the back of your hand with her fingers, but the pause goes on for too long and concern grows in your veins. "Maybe…" She starts and hiccups, inhaling sharply but you just nudge her on with a squeeze of her hand. "Maybe I could stay over, tonight? After?" She follows and the question shocks you, even if you you've discussed this recently, but it still throws you off to think about you and Brittany in the same apartment, sleeping in different places.
But with the mood you're in, nothing can bring you down and so you don't cast a second thought towards Mona, or how you'll explain it to your friends when Brittany doesn't leave with them, and instead beam her a grin, showing excitement instead of fear.
"Yeah, that's sounds good."
Blue eyes sparkle, but you just suck your lips into your mouth and stare, thoughts of those eyes on a little baby girl.
/
It's a little later on, and you're crowded around your coffee table with your friends.
Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel are on the floor with you, and Mercedes and Brittany are hauled up on the sofa, curled beneath blankets and there's three large pizza boxes open, with everyone munching on a slice.
The night has actually been really fun, since you and Brittany told everyone that you're having a girl which made Mercedes pop open a bottle of champagne and Rachel insist on her being middle named after Barbara Streisand or 'someone equally as famous as herself' but you quickly vetoed that idea, and so did Brittany, after Kurt threw a pizza crust at her.
Anyway, they all took it well, and you lean back once you're full of pizza and questions, hands on your stomach and you grin at Brittany when she does the same, but quickly pouts as she realises her bump is actually now there for a different reason to everyone else, and not just a temporary food baby, and Kurt eyes you for a long second whilst you smile at her before clapping his hands and earning everyone's attention.
"I have an idea to celebrate Baby Girl Lopez-Pierce," he announces, and Mercedes leans forward, so do you, as you're kind of interested. "My dad just bought at timeshare at this cute little beach house in Montauk," he explains, and your brows scrunch together. How does that involve you guys?
"Weird way to boast," you chortle and reach to grab your drink, sipping on it whilst Kurt glares at you.
"I have a point," he fires back but you just grin. You knew that; you just like irritating him. "Anyway," he breathes in that overly dramatic way and rolls his eyes, looking back to everyone else. "I was thinking we could go there for a weekend… Have a pre-baby celebration, get our drink on, bar Brittany obviously," he sweeps to her. "And come back refreshed, ready for the arrival of our sweet baby girl."
You're immediately far more interested now, thinking about getting into a bikini and getting the sun on your skin, and then your mind moves to seeing Brittany in equal attire regardless of baby bump and you're nodding already. Mercedes shouts YES as loudly as possible, Rachel looking towards you – as you kind of handle her schedule as her PA is useless – and you just roll your eyes at her this time as obviously she can come. As long as she doesn't bring a gigolo boyfriend or whatever, you're good. You'll be off the clock, and you hope she knows that.
"That sounds great, Kurt," Brittany chimes in and your eyes flash to her, a warm smile on your face.
"Yeah, when you thinking?" Mercedes asks.
Kurt picks up another slice and bites the end off, chewing whilst in thought before he replies. "Maybe in like a month?" His vision flits to Brittany. "Can you still fly by then?"
Your mind ticks over the information about pregnancy and how long until Brittany can fly and know she's got a good few months still, but you don't answer as you weren't the one asked the question, but blue eyes still move to you as Brittany replies.
"I think I'm good… Right, San?"
All eyes are on you then, and you stop reaching for a slice of pizza, a little thrown off that she'd ask you, but you suppose you're the one who Googled the hell out of pregnancy, keeping up to date with every step of the way and so you nod. Apparently, it's a strange thing to do, for Brittany to check with you but your friends have never seen you like this. You've never handled a mature situation, or if you have, you've always done the immature thing like telling a girl you're not interested in you're moving overseas so you can't see her again, so to see you taking the lead must be weird.
But you don't really care. There's a lot more of this to come so you don't show the sudden vulnerability spiking beneath your skin and instead take in a deep breath, still nodding with a breathless smile on your face.
"Yeah, you'll be okay," you say and grab another slice, sitting back on your knees and pretending like you can't feel their eyes on you still.
"Awesome," Kurt chirps and wipes the corners of his mouth, vision still trained on you even though everyone else looks away and you don't like it. There's that look in his eyes, the one that usually follows with something you don't want to discuss like when he asked you about you and Brittany's history, and when he leans forward, elbows on the coffee table, you know it's coming. "Your girlfriend is invited, too, if you want, Satan," he adds with a smirk.
The smile drops from your face, and everyone goes quiet, but Rachel's the one to obviously not notice the sudden tension in the room and perks up, rising to her knees as she grabs another slice of vegetarian pizza but pausing, mid-air to stare at you with wide eyes and an equally wide mouth.
"Girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?"
No, you don't, and you freaking told Kurt that when you told him about Mona, but you have gone on a few dates now – five to be exact – and that's far more than you've ever been on with anyone before. Probably because you're yet to sleep with her – another record – so you keep distracting her with different dates, but you know how it looks, mostly because you haven't shared any of this information with anyone else.
Especially Brittany, who when you look to her, is now staring down at her nails and avoiding all gazes that momentarily flick to her, then back to you. There's a tinge of pink on her cheeks, and you hate that you didn't tell these guys, so this wasn't a thing, which it is now. It's like you've been keeping a secret which you haven't been, as prior to Brittany coming back into your life, you used to date and not tell your friends about them, but it seems more significant, and this is unchartered territory.
Dead fucking silent unchartered territory, as you still realise everyone's waiting for you to respond.
"She's not my girlfriend," you throw back, alongside a sharp glare to Kurt who just sips his drink and winks. "We've just been on a few dates."
Mercedes cocks her head to the side. "How many?" She asks with narrowed eyes.
You scoff and roll your eyes. "A few," you repeat and fold your arms over, irritation burning in your veins.
"Why are you being so secretive?" Rachel says, scrunching her nose up and you swear to God if you could take her head off with one look, you would be right now. "Is she famous?"
"No," you throw back at her, annoyed that everyone is so freaking nosey, and drop the slice back to the table.
You need to cut this shit off immediately, especially as you're yet to discuss it with Brittany but she hasn't asked so you haven't offered the information. It just seems safer and so the best thing to do now is to just silence everyone in the only way you know how; by being a total bitch, and you know it probably isn't fair as they're your friends, but you're pissed off now.
Pissed off that you've been forced into a situation you didn't want to be in, even though you've been skating quite happily around the damn thing.
"I'm not being secretive, but since when are any of you so interested in anything other than yourselves and where your genitals are this week?" You snipe and your eyes flash to Mercedes who looks a little pissed off you haven't told her anything about dating Mona, but you're just dating in the sense that you're going on dates. Not that you're together so it didn't seem necessary. "Wheezy, you fuck a new guy every week, regardless of relationship status and act all holier-than-thou about it even though you get more action than a two dollar whore," you start and look to Rachel.
"You dated a gigolo and you're talking to a stripper," your dip your head, voice lowering in a condescending manner, and she drops her jaw, looking offended as hell but it's entirely true and doesn't really need much more explaining. So you ignore the face in favour of looking at Kurt and Blaine, the last people left. "And don't even get me started on you two," you add and smirk. "You've been married for a few months now and I'm shocked neither one of you fucked a poor Hawaiian bus boy whilst on your honeymoon considering your track record," you wave your hand up in the air, and suck your lips into your mouth, enjoying the way everybody is gawking at you at the string of insults they've just been hit with. "So forgive me if I chose to keep one of my many dates to myself, for once."
There's a long silence, one where you resist the urge to look at Brittany as she's not reacting to your classic Santana bitch outs, and so you don't feel bad about it. Mona isn't anything special, you know that, even though you've been on more dates with her than literally anyone else, but you've already justified that by yourself, and you don't feel the need to inform your friends. They know it too, because Mercedes is the first one to react and she barks out a loud laughter, throwing her head back and grabbing her champagne flute, holding it in the air towards you.
"And here we all were not recognising the Santana in front of us," she gets out through a laughter, and all offense in her eyes is gone now, just like the rest of the group as you check their reactions too, but you don't get what she means. You're still the same Santana you've always been. "We were all getting real creeped out about this new baby crazed, responsible adult, so I for one am glad to know the bitch is back."
You're the one frowning now, mouth dropping open, and you watch as every single one of your friends begin laughing along with Mercedes who's freaking cackling now, lifting their glasses and doing a cheers all by themselves towards you. You're not sure if you're offended, or what Mercedes even meant with the whole bitch is back thing, but you just look to Brittany who's raising her glass too, but she's not laughing, and she catches your stare and offers you a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
She doesn't say anything about it, just joins in with the conversation and so you do the same.
(Whilst ignoring the heaviness in your stomach.)
/
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