Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 9.2k
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: There's no excuses, just an apology. Enjoy :)
/
When you get back to LA, you fill the following few days with your head buried into work.
You're good at your job, and you currently don't have any lingering hesitations about anything else in your life as it seems to be going smoothly. You haven't stayed at Brittany's place, nor has she stayed at yours, since you got back from Montauk, and it's only because you've been super busy signing Rachel up for various charity benefits and trying to help her start a rehoming centre for disabled and stray dogs to get her reputation back on track.
(And ignoring any questions about Mona from Brittany as you didn't get a chance alone with her on the journey back and so you haven't discussed the details of what happened.)
(Not that she needs to know, but you think she might ask at some point.)
Anyway, since Rachel's been caught with that gigolo ex, and recently broke the headlines with being caught going on another date with a freaking stripper turned model again – she cannot choose a normal guy apparently – you've had to work a lot of overtime and ended up going back to your place, not finding Brittany there, and passing out on the couch. You've kept up to date with her with phone calls and video calls, but otherwise you've kept her at an arm's length.
Which is weird, as you didn't have a problem with being with her alone prior to breaking things off with Mona, but you just feel differently now. Now there isn't an issue sleeping in the same bed, or there might be, but either way, you're okay with not doing it as it's just safer and Brittany's been busy too, apparently.
However, it gets to the weekend, and naturally, it changes.
You text Rachel and ask her to come to the bar for a drink, which she does with her new stripper boyfriend, and you meet him. He's called Sam, he's got a raging case of ADHD as he can't stop talking at you, but he's kind of cute and you don't get a bad vibe from him. He seems to be into Rachel too and it's only when he gets up to go and get you a few drinks that you corner her, needing to know how serious this is and how you need to handle this.
Not that you're here with her as your publicist, but since Montauk you've been feeling softer towards her. She's not actually that bad like, 10% of the time.
"Is he still a stripper?"
Rachel rolls her eyes at you. "He was a stripper, Santana," she corrects. "He's now a model for IMG, who if you didn't know, are reps for Bella Hadid," she adds on with pride in her eyes and you laugh, glancing at Sam by the bar who waves as he notices you looking. "And the past is in the past."
"Yes, but the past is what bites you in the ass and leaves me to pick up the pieces," you retort and sip on your drink, leaning back into the booth and Rachel nods her head, but she seems legitimate about this guy and so you just inhale and decide to go down a softer route. "Seriously, though, how are you two?" You continue on and Rachel pinches her lips up at the side, checking you're not about to be an ass about it and you're not.
"We're good… Apparently he used to know Mercedes back in the day, though," she admits, and you frown. "Which is kind of sticky."
"What? How?"
Rachel shrugs and spins her glass around in her hands, eyes dropping to the movement. "Not sure, but Sam says he's moved on, and Mercedes said she barely even remembered him but it's weird," she explains and for a second, you feel bad for her, but you know Mercedes isn't into white guys and to be honest, Rachel seems to suit him better. They're strangely cute together.
"I'm sure it's fine, Berry," you drone and lean forward again, elbows going to the top as you rest on your hands. "He seems like a good guy, and you're not half as irritating as you usually are, so guess he's doing something to quell your obnoxious personality," you add on, needing to put a bit of venom in there because you're becoming uncomfortable with being this nice to her for such a long amount of time, but she just laughs and rolls her eyes again.
"Well, you would know about that," she comments but it's not off hand, judging by the lift of her perfectly shaped eyebrow. "How are you and Britt?"
But no. You're going to need an explanation for the first thing she said. "Whoa, whoa… What's that meant to mean?"
"Just that you seem to be… Nicer around her," she shrugs, looking you right in the eye completely unapologetically. "It's good to see you actually have a non-demonic side to you."
You clench your jaw, flare your nostrils, and curl your upper lip. You're just so tired of people commenting on all these different sides to you, to the point where you're actually starting to feel like going to a psychiatrist and seeing if you have schizophrenia as everyone harbours such strong feelings about all these apparent contrasting personalities.
Admittedly, you knew it was bound to happen as it was a problem when you were a teenager, where everyone knew you weren't so bitchy and cruel when Brittany was around, and so it's not shocking that your other friends have noticed, but it's just boring hearing about it time and time again. You can't help but slink into a softer version of yourself, as you just feel calm when Brittany's around, but this is like, the third person to say this to you now and it's getting old.
"Why is everyone so set on repeatedly telling me I'm different when she's around?"
Rachel lifts her brows by her hairline, but it the venom in your voice doesn't scare her off. "Because you are," she says like it's obvious, but you were more the version of you that they're used to in Montauk, so you're not sure why Rachel's suddenly saying it.
Maybe because you were just nice to her about Sam, but if she's going to be like this when you do that, you're going to go back to old habits as soon as possible. You already have like, a hundred insults about the size of his lips bouncing around in your brain.
"Yeah, but maybe it's also the fact I'm going to be a mother?" You throw back, even though you hadn't put much thought into that point. "Maybe I've chosen to stop screwing around and mature and prepare for the future as it's no longer just my own?" You follow up with a scoff, but Rachel just smiles knowingly, and this attitude is definitely pissing you off now.
"Whatever the reason is, I'm just glad," she settles and cocks her head to the side. "Is that why you broke it off with Mona then?"
This time, you're the one to roll your eyes. You haven't exactly spoken to any of your friends about Mona as you didn't with other girls that came previously, so you didn't think it was necessary to do it now, even if you're aware this time is completely different. Plus, you were completely fine with Mona one second, going for a walk on the beach under the moonlight, then you were arguing and escorting her out to a cab.
They're a bunch of nosey assholes, so you know they heard, and it was briefly mentioned, but no-one's pestered you about it.
Still, that doesn't mean you want to talk about it now, and you eye Sam quickly, seeing him hand over a couple of dollars to the bartender before picking up a tray with three drinks on it and slide your vision back to Rachel, knowing you're going to be saved by the guy if he gets his ass over here quickly. Enough time for you to reply, but not for her to pester you anymore.
"There were multiple reasons, but that was one of the main ones," you quickly explain and flash a smile at Sam as he wanders over, ready to end the conversation there.
Rachel isn't though, and sets a hand over the back of yours, earning your attention one last time before he gets there. "Either way, I'm proud of you, and I know it meant a lot to Britt, too."
You narrow your eyes, suddenly hating that Sam is only a few steps away because your personal life is not something you want to share with a stranger, and had you just waited, you could've argued with Rachel a little more as now it seems necessary to defend yourself. But you didn't, so you swallow the words in your head and force a smile back on your face as you take your drink from Sam with a small thanks and a nod of your head, thinking over her words.
What did she mean?
/
Thanks to Rachel sticking her ginormous beak into your business once again, you go home with intention of having a bath and falling asleep but fail.
You get to your front door, key about to slide into the lock when you stop and think about what she said, and how it meant a lot to Brittany apparently when you broke things off with Mona, and you start thinking about why she would've been. It's screwing with your mind, and you really don't to try to sleep with this on the brain as you'll wind up making up your own explanations and then fuck yourself up more by overthinking them and not being able to land on one specific.
So you drop your hand to your side, stare at the number attached to the wood in front of you and think about your options.
Option one is you could try and go inside, maybe stay in there for a whole hour before giving up and going over to Brittany's and seeing her alone, and face to face for the first time since you broke it off with Mona, and ask her what Rachel meant. But option two is that'll probably lead to some tension, and you won't lie, you have missed her in the past few days and technology just doesn't fill your needs when it comes to her, so you might find yourself getting cosy and comfortable.
Not that it should be a problem, as there's no Mona and it's not like anything's expected now, but you know there's something inside of you that still harbours something you shouldn't feel towards Brittany that isn't platonic and that's definitely dangerous. You can't pretend like it's not there, but it's not allowed and irresponsible as hell as it puts everything at risk, and that's pretty much the only thing that stops you from delving into it a bit more.
Which also includes not going over just because you can't accept the fact that this is how your life is now.
You hold on to that thought, eyes burning into the numbers of your apartment before you force yourself to slide the key into the lock and open up your door, but apparently there's a higher power lending a hand here because as you step over the threshold, your phone vibrates in your bag. You hurry inside, digging through until you find it and see an unknown caller ID on screen, narrowing your eyes but not hesitating for much longer before picking up and pressing the phone to your ear.
"Who is this?"
"Santana?" An unfamiliar voice asks, and you look back to the screen quickly but there isn't even a number. "It's Quinn."
Something seizes in your chest. "Quinn?"
"I'm on a payphone at the hospital," she explains and answers the question you hadn't asked, the blood draining from your face as you mentally begin putting together a reason as to why she'd call before she can even say it. "It's Brittany… I had to bring her down here."
The breath is ripped from your lungs, and you stumble until you can brace yourself on the kitchen counter, your vision wavering. Brittany's in hospital? What the fuck? You have no idea what's going on, but you need to and everything's sort of fuzzy which really isn't helping. But before you can make the conscious decision to, you're retracing your steps and backing out into the hallway, breathing coming out in hard pants as you bolt down the stairs, and head out your apartment building, momentarily forgetting you're on the phone.
"Which one?" You ask, head whipping from left to right as blood pumps around your body. You need to know what fucking direction you're going in.
"Downtown," Quinn throws back, and you don't know her, but she isn't beating around the bush and if she can do shit like this, if she can handle you directly – like you need to be handled in a situation to do with Brittany and your baby – then maybe you two could bond. That doesn't matter right now though, and you almost hang up but then you hear Quinn continue talking down the line. "She started having pains and I didn't know what else to do," she hurries and you're suddenly glad you didn't end the call.
But the words make you trip over nothing as you get out on to the sidewalk, fear striking you hard all over again until all sense are temporarily stunned. Pains, Brittany and hospital is not a combo you want to hear and it's showing in your body. Black spots form behind your eyes every time you blink, and you don't think you've breathed properly since you picked up the freaking phone, but you don't care. All you can think about is Brittany and your baby and you're panicking hard, legs picking up speed until you're sprinting down the street, not even bothering to take a cab.
"Okay," you get out, voice strained and feeling your lungs begin to burn, wind pelting against your cheeks. "Be there in five," you manage to follow up with before you're hanging up, tucking your phone into your tits, and working double time as you push past a couple on the street.
You need to get to Brittany.
/
Several nurses piss you off as you shout Brittany's name at them, pointing you down corridors that all look the same, but by the time you reach your fifth nurse, fifth hallway, and your freaking limit, you're about to unleash hell on the last poor one that has no idea why you're so frustrated. They must be used to it though, but as the venomous string of insults is about to pour from your mouth, you stop as you see a familiar face out the corner of your eye.
"Santana," Quinn greets, dipping her head at you and eying the nurse until she leaves hastily, looking all kinds of flustered. "You got here quickly… Only took four minutes."
You said five, but you're guessing that's why she's saying that. The last face to face conversation you had was at the wedding and that didn't go great and so you guess that's her way of telling you she's impressed that you've gone above the expectations set (again) which must work in your favour. She's already cast judgement on you, and you're getting the feeling she's just waiting for you to trip up along the way, but you won't.
Not again.
So, you offer a stern nod of your head and flash a smile, not caring for the niceties as you need to see Brittany and know if she's okay. "Where's Britt?" Flies from your mouth and you rock on to the ball of your feet, staring down the hallway Quinn just came from. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"
Quinn cranes her neck until your eyes flash back to her. "She's fine, and so is the baby," she reassures, and your shoulders drop, your lungs filling fully for the first time in too long. "I was over at hers, as you weren't there," she throws in and your jaw tenses. She just has to get a jibe in. "And she started getting some pains that she hadn't got before," she tells you and your mind searches through possibilities of why that could be but comes up blank. You're still panicking, so that's forgivable. "So I brought her down here, and she's being checked but they think it's Braxton Hicks."
You know the term, and you instantly calm down as you know how common it is for women to suffer from this during pregnancy. It was one of the things you jotted down in your notebook, feeling like it was something to remember but now you're kind of hating that as you weren't even there to notice regardless. You were off in a bar, with Rachel telling you how nice and considerate you are now that Brittany's back in your life, but this current situation doesn't go to prove what you were saying.
Had you just gone and seen Brittany, or just been there and been looking after her like you said you would to her best friend the night you found out about the pregnancy, you would've been here instead of Quinn, a when you look back to the blonde, you see the tightly pressed lips that's making you think she's on the same wavelength as you are.
But you don't get to ask or confirm – you think you know because of the way she's looking at you and her little comment whilst updating you on Brittany and the baby's condition – before over her shoulder, you see a porter come out, wheeling a too familiar face in chair out of a ward.
It's Brittany, and you push the thoughts aside, ready to step around Quinn and do what you came here to do, and what you should've been doing, but then there's a hand snapping out, rooting you to your spot and your eyes move to Quinn to see her leaning in, embers burning in hazel eyes. You've seen this look before, when she told you not to fuck around with Brittany even though you had no idea why she was doing that at the time, so you know what you're in for.
"Maybe you should make sure you're there next time," she whispers, lowly and aggressively, and you don't have time to reply before Quinn's changing personalities, smiling sweetly, spinning around, and walking over to Brittany like she didn't look like she was about to take your head clean off with a single look.
So you take the same approach, looking towards your blonde, who grins the second she sees you, not even bothering to look at her friend and your chest releases, cool relief flooding through your veins as your feet lead you. You won't lie, now Brittany looks that damn happy to see you, you don't even feel frustration towards Quinn and her freaking attitude again, mostly because you know it's from a good place but also because slapping her into next week won't help you prove yourself and it'll probably annoy Brittany.
Not that you're trying, but she'll have to accept you at some point as Brittany's just starting her third trimester which means the start of the real future is yet to come and now is not the time to sort out your differences by inevitably arguing.
"Britt, are you okay?" You ask, falling to Brittany's side in a crouch, and she sets a hand over the back of yours, eyes bright but tired.
"Yeah, we're fine… Just scared," she whispers and regret hits you hard, settling heavily inside your stomach, your face screwing up in response. You should've been here and been the one to comfort her when she was scared. You fucking hate yourself. "It was just false labour pains," she explains but it doesn't matter.
It could've been a freaking papercut, but you should've been here, and you don't know how to express how you're feeling about it. There's regret, and anger (directed at yourself) and sadness, none of which would be good to reveal as Brittany would probably worry about you and that's so not necessary.
All of the emotions are balling up into one, and it's only getting worse because Quinn had a freaking point, and you can't argue now if she starts. You just have to clench your jaw, bite your tongue, swallow the frustration, and fix this, so you suck your lips into your mouth, trying a smile at Brittany before returning to your feet, vision sliding to Quinn who's watching everything you do with crossed arms and a narrowed stare.
"I got her from here," you say and her eyes narrow further, but Brittany's the one to speak.
"It's okay, San… Quinn said she'll take me back and stay with me."
You frown and glance down at her. You're not sure if you're more bothered that she's not automatically assuming you would take her home, or stay with her, but that doesn't matter either, and you don't even tell yourself to move before you're shaking your head, twisting your hand up to lace your fingers through hers and putting your other hand over the back of it. This is one of the reasons you broke things off with Mona, so you could put all focus on Brittany and your unborn daughter and care for them, and yet somehow you're single, but still not doing it.
No justification will explain it either, so you take a deep breath in and look firmly into blue eyes. "No, I am. I won't leave your side..." You swallow thickly. "I should've been there," you tell her, letting your gaze roam around her face and you clench your jaw, trying to get her to see that you're full of regret. "I should've been, and I wasn't and I'm sorry."
Brittany sighs, her head tipping to the right and a soft smile comes across her lips, her eyes clouding over. It makes you panic for a second, as she used to look at you like this back when you two were together, back when you did something or said something sweet that she wasn't expecting, but you don't need to think about that. You can't, and so you glance back at Quinn who's staring at you still with a glare and roll your eyes immediately.
You can't do anything right in her eyes, but you'll make a promise now you vow to keep. "I've got her," you tell Quinn, but she runs her tongue along perfect teeth and turns her attention to Brittany.
"You okay with that, Britt? I can come with you guys."
Brittany shakes her head and reaches out, grabbing her friends hand. "I'm safe with San," she whispers and your heart leaps against your chest. "If she says she's got me, she does."
Hazel eyes flicker to you. "We'll see," she utters, and you don't think it's supposed to be for your ears but she's looking right at you.
Still, you choose to smile too sweetly back at her, crinkling the corners of your eyes just so she knows it's fake and resist the smirk when her glare drops, but then there's a nurse calling Brittany's name and all three of you spin to find someone wandering, asking to sign some paperwork for the insurance. You bob your head and say you'll handle it, and you shoot a soft smile at the blonde in the wheelchair, squeezing her shoulder and dropping a kiss to her head as you follow the nurse.
/
You finish up, pay a few bills, and meet Quinn and Brittany downstairs in the lobby.
There's already a cab on the sidewalk, and you stare at Quinn, not really caring if she's getting home safely as she hasn't called her own, but knowing this could give you a boost and fold your arms over your chest, looking straight at her as you speak.
"Where do you live?"
Quinn wrinkles her nose up, but Brittany sees it and clicks her tongue. "Couple blocks away," she answers through gritted teeth.
You stare at her for a long second, resisting the strong urge to smirk, but stay silent as you step to the sidewalk and hail another cab. One pulls up after about three seconds, the first driver looking confused, but you just tell him to wait and usher the two blondes towards the second cab. "Go on then," you say and hazel eyes narrow – Quinn's so freaking suspicious of you – but you give her a genuine smile as you're not going to break. The best motivation is doubt in your eyes. "Gotta make sure you get home safe, too."
Blue eyes flit to you, softness behind them but you ignore it and watch Quinn eye you for a solid few moments, but you don't show her anything to cause doubt. Yeah, this is kind of a tactic to get her to like you, and whereas usually you don't give a hot wet monkeys ass if people like you, she's kind of a necessity. Plus, you're only matching energy and if she's anything like you – which you think she is – you could actually get along and bond.
"That's nice of you, San," Brittany chimes in as the other blonde continues staring. "Isn't it, Quinn?"
You smirk when Brittany nudges Quinn with her elbow but hide it as hazel eyes flit to you again. "Yeah, guess so," she utters. "Britt," she turns her attention to the other blonde. "Text me when you get back to yours," she says and then pulls her into a hug, not allowing an answer and drops a kiss to her cheek when she pulls back. "If you need me, call me, okay?"
Brittany frowns and you shake your head, rolling your eyes because Brittany's freaking safer with you than she is with Quinn, but she still doesn't know you just yet and that's something you'll have to work on. So you just wait Brittany says goodbye, and until Quinn's in the cab, and close the door after her, holding her eyes as she challenges you silently but you're still not going to break. She doesn't intimidate you, even if she is a worthy opponent and it's only spurring you on to prove the person you can be and will be for Brittany and your daughter.
Although you're starting to suspect that's the intention. If Quinn's half as devious as you are, this is a well thought out plan to try and bring out your dark side.
"Bye, Quinn, thank you," you hear Brittany say and she takes a step towards the first cab, opening up the door but you remain in your spot as Quinn hasn't told the driver to go.
"Bye," you whisper, ready to turn to leave but then you hear her say your name and glance back. "What?"
Quinn leans towards the door, head poking through the open window and her gaze drifts to Brittany waiting by the first cab. She's not far away enough that she won't be able to hear if she says anything, but you guess even if she doesn't, she'll ask you what Quinn's about to say, even if you don't want to listen. This is one tough cookie, and she's proving to be a challenge with you which is another hurdle you and Brittany have to face, but after your parents, you abuela, freaking Mona and everything else, you think you're up for it.
"Maybe it's time you think about moving in with her," Quinn finally says, and it is low enough that even you barely make it out, but she just tips her head towards you. "Then you won't miss anything else."
You freeze though, not quite expecting her to say that. You honestly thought she was going to call you a bitch or throw in another remark that's entirely unnecessary, but you suppose it links on from the earlier conversation about you and how you weren't there when Brittany was in pain. Quinn's clearly given it thought, even though you put your mind towards making sure Brittany was okay instead, but whatever the reason, she's suggesting something that you hadn't quite thought about approaching yet.
Brittany's only at the start of her third trimester, and you're honestly a little nervous to discuss living arrangements as there's literally no reason not to now. If anything, the best time is the present as there's no Mona, Brittany's getting unsteady on her feet – she also has developed a habit of putting her keys in the freezer – and so you could help out. Tonight only goes to show that you not being there is making you go against your own promise, but you're just… Concerned.
At some point, this was probably going to come about, and you kind of hate that Quinn's mentioned it before you could prepare, and especially seeing as the whole defence you had for not sleeping in the same bed as she no longer exists and well… You are human. Brittany's showing, unmistakeably so, but she's still the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. It's kind of irritating actually, and since coming to terms with the softness you obviously still have for her, you feel like doing that might tempt the devil.
It's only been a matter of days and you're suffering as you haven't been sleeping in the same place as your baby, and the person carrying her, and that's not healthy.
But you suppose Quinn's only suggesting you think about it, even if it's forced and you can tell it's a heavy suggestion judging by the way she's still glaring at you, so you suck in a deep breath, bob your head, and let her see a more vulnerable side to you. Perhaps if she sees that, you'll get out of being bugged for the next week or so whilst you consider your options and something cracks in her face, her head drawing back, and she nods her head sternly before telling the driver she's good to go.
You take a step back on the sidewalk, glance at Brittany who's frowning at you, confused as to why you just had a private conversation with her best friend, but you just offer her a smile and head over.
"Let's get you home, huh?" You say, a little breathless.
Blue eyes don't leave your face for a good few minutes, but she still nods and gets inside the cab with you right behind her.
/
You don't talk to Brittany about the living situation for the next few days.
You made up some bullshit about Quinn giving you a hard time when she was talking to you in the cab, which wasn't that farfetched, and Brittany seemed to buy it, albeit a little dubiously. Quinn obviously said something along the same lines as it wasn't brought up again, but you make a point of staying over at her place for the next few nights and sleeping on the couch just to settle yourself and her and make sure you're there for everything.
It's hard, as you say goodnight and watch her retreat back to her bedroom each time, and she does the same thing every night; hovers by the door, hand against the wood and the other on her bump, and she says goodnight alongside her name for you – San – which makes your stomach flip, her eyes not leaving yours until the last possible second.
However, it builds some strength within yourself, and gives you some time to think about how you can skirt around the subject of living together. You don't want to miss anything, and sleeping on the couch is fine but you have to keep going back to your place for new clothes (and your back starts to hurt after the third night) and even when Brittany suggests you just bring a suitcase over, you sort of freeze, thinking it's pointless if you're going to talk to her about moving in anyway.
Still, you decide that the following Friday night, when there's only two or so months left until she gives birth, that it's time to bite the bullet, and you choose to do it after cooking Brittany a massive bowl of pasta and sitting down on the couch, watching her grin at the food. She always used to like your cooking when you were teenagers, even though you had zero skill back then in comparison to now, but it gives you a warm feeling as you think about cooking dinner for your family.
Although you suppose you won't be a family. It won't be a reoccurring thing as you probably won't live together after the baby is born. That just seems a bit messy, and hurts to think about, but that's not to worry about right now as you've got other things to discuss.
So you eat your dinner, grab her empty bowl and yours, and run it back to the kitchen, and when you're washing up the dishes, you hear quiet footsteps come up from behind and smile to yourself, the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.
She's looking at you. You don't even need to turn to check that and tonight has been easy, you need to get to the point and now is the best time as she's obviously come to find you, so you flick the water off, grab a rag and dry your hands, spinning around to lean against the counter to find Brittany by the doorway, temple leaning against it, one hand on her bump and the other dangling by her side.
She has the softest smile on her face, her eyes a frightening blue and for a whole second, you forget what you were about to say, but then she speaks first. "Hey."
You grin. "Hey… You okay?"
Brittany bites her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile but wanders into the kitchen, coming up to rest on the counter opposite you, hands braced either side of her now. "Yeah, just wanted to say thank you for cooking."
"No need," you reply without a beat and throw the rag over your shoulder, trying to seem casual even though your palms are getting clammy, and the back of your neck is getting hot with the way she's gazing at you so freaking softly. "I'm glad I can finally cook for someone."
Blue eyes narrow, and you think over your words, trying to find something weird but nope. You come up blank and cock your head to the side, searching her face as she's doing that thing… Like she's trying to read you even though you don't know what you said to warrant her reacting like that. What did you say?
"You never cooked for anyone?"
Your eyes widen, heart skipping a beat. Now you get what she means; did you ever cook for any of the other girls, but again, nope. All the other girls you've ever had in your apartment were either super early on in your prowling days before your incident, which meant they were out the door before the sun rose, or they just weren't worth it so no. You never cooked, but you can see why she's asking you and with what you want to discuss, you don't need any tension rising.
"Oh," you splutter and laugh nervously through your nose, swallowing against a thickening throat. "No… I learned to cook for myself seeing as I couldn't live on pancakes and waffles forever," you chuckle, trying not to think about the many mornings you used to bring her breakfast in the morning when you were together.
Brittany bobs her head but holds your eye and smiles like she knows what you're thinking anyway and folds her arms slowly over her chest. "I don't know… "She trails off, dipping her voice. "I could probably exclusively live on them," she says, and you squint, feeling something warm curdle in your stomach. She definitely knows what you were thinking but she doesn't call you out on it and instead goes elsewhere. "Are you staying again tonight?"
You suck your lips into your mouth and nod. "If that's okay with you?"
"Always," she beams back immediately, but then bits her bottom lip and you can see the cogs turning in her brain. "But…" She pauses and runs her tongue along her teeth, wandering over to you and holding your eyes. "That'll be the fourth night in a row, right?"
Again, you nod, and it's the perfect opportunity to say what you want to, but you think she's already going there, so you stay quiet.
"Well," Brittany starts again and sucks in a deep breath, it coming out shaky when she exhales before she speaks. "Seeing as you've been here every night this week, why don't you just stay?" She finally breathes and something releases in your chest, but due to feeling like you could get this wrong and jump the gun, you get a little scared and have to double check.
"I am staying."
A smile grows across her face, and she lets out a low giggle as she shakes her head. "I meant like," she looks you in the eye again and the breath hitches in your throat. "Properly stay," she elaborates. "Like live here… At least until the baby comes."
You still, not wanting to respond immediately with yes, but also knowing it's pretty clear by the fact you show zero negativity as you stare back at her. You have started a trend, and become close friends with the sofa, and it would make sense as you were going to bring it up anyway, but you're just a little thrown off that Brittany got there first.
The whole point of cooking her dinner tonight was to do it, so you're more frozen due to the fact she's one step ahead of you and concerned she might actually be in your head – you were going to bring it up tonight regardless – but you know you need to say something as the silence could be taken badly.
So, you clear your throat and shift your weight from one leg to the other, sucking your lips into your mouth. "I mean… I was going to suggest it but–"
"Only if you want," she cuts you off and you wet your lips, squinting a little and trying to read her face. "I don't want you to feel pressured, just because I asked," she follows softly, hand stroking over her bump as she swallows and awaits your answer.
But there's something behind her eyes. Something you think is nerves and to be honest, you're there with her. Having this baby is one thing, so is sleeping on the couch but seeing as there's no reason why you need to sleep on the couch anymore – the conversation you once had no longer stands – it's kind of scaring you.
There's only a couple months left until the baby comes, and that's eight weeks of constantly being around her, of waking up in the same apartment and once upon a time ago, that was something you couldn't wait for, but now the situation is different and there's a lot at risk.
Still, it's not like you've ever been able to say no to her and with what Quinn said a week ago at the hospital about you not missing anything else, it makes sense. Clearly Brittany said something, or maybe Quinn just wants you to get your ass in gear and knows what's best for her best friend, but whatever it is, it's motivating you to say yes and head home immediately to grab your things.
Your apartment can stay empty for two months, as you own it and sure, you two could stay at yours some nights but it's not exactly pregnancy friendly with the spiral staircase and severe lack of warmth in that homey kind of way.
So screw it, it's only for eight weeks or so and then you can figure out what happens after that, living situation wise.
"Yeah… Yeah, I think I should do that," you finally breathe, and Brittany's back straightens, her shoulders squaring like she's surprised you said yes, but you don't know why. You have been here for the past three nights, going for the fourth, just like she said.
"Yeah?"
You grin and bob your head, letting out a short laugh through your nose as you brace your hands behind you, leaning on the counter. "Yeah I want to but…" You pause and think about the couch, and the fact she only has one room and that leads you somewhere else mentally. "Where would I sleep?"
Brittany holds your eye, a soft, knowing smile on her face and you really don't want her to look at you like that, because it's going to make you think about things you don't want to, especially if you have to be around her constantly, but then she's moving, and you're distracted as she approaches you. She stays silent, still maintaining eye contact and when she's right in front of you, she stops, reaching out to grab your hands from behind you and you almost forget how to breathe.
"I think we can stay in the same bed, San," she whispers, and there's a playful teasing in her tone that makes your face split into a smile that you try to hide but fail miserably. It makes her laugh though and roll her eyes but you're still cautious as you two are human, haven't got the greatest track record and you're alarmingly aware she cuddles like, a lot, and regardless of how she might think about herself, you will always see the perfection she is.
"Britt–"
"I'm huge, and I'm only going to get bigger," she cuts you off and your lips slam shut, but your face twists up, disbelief in your features because she can't be serious, and you have no control when that leaves your mouth in a way that it probably shouldn't.
"You're beautiful. Big or small."
The smile falls from Brittany's face, her hand stilling on yours and she tilts her head to the side, that damn soft smile even softer now. To the point where you actually have to look away at the linoleum beneath your feet whilst ignoring the way your stomach flips inside. You've survived a few nights already, but that was on the sofa and now you're going to be sleeping in the same bed and you honestly don't want to go down that road if you're going to test the waters tonight.
"You're stupid," flows into your ears and you snap your head up, frowning deeply as the argument bubbles up your throat but then Brittany's laughing and stepping away, and you ignore the cold sting of your palm as she's no longer touching you, but it was probably for the best. "But thank you," she adds on and moves towards the fridge, opening it and grabbing a bottle of something you find out is chocolate milk when she turns back around. "Want some before bed?"
You stare at her for a long moment, but nod your head and she grabs two glasses, seeming completely normal and casual like you haven't just agreed to live together until the baby is born.
If she's going to be that way though, then you need to be too.
It'll be fine.
/
It's a little too domestic when you go to bed.
Mostly because you go together, brushing your teeth at the same time, staring at each other in the reflections and sure, you get changed in the bathroom when Brittany leaves so she can change in her bedroom, but you still have to walk in and when you do, you feel uncomfortable. Which is ridiculous, as you've shared a bed with her more times than you can count in your lifetime, but you still hover nervously by the door, thumbing the hem of your sleep shirt and biting your lip as you watch her pull back the bedsheets, only pausing to look at you.
"You okay?"
You nod your head, because you are okay, but you think that's the problem and she must see it because she stops what she's doing, comes over to you and grabs your hands, much like she did in the kitchen. It's a new thing she's come to do in your adult relationship, as she used to touch you all the time when you were teens, but this is something she does to calm you now, and shit, it works so you can't pretend it doesn't, but it makes you stare into her eyes and that feels weirdly significant.
Every damn time.
You're sure you will get used to it, but you kind of hate that she knows you well enough now to read you all over again and will continue to in the meantime.
"Yeah," you get out, and she doesn't push you, just leads you over to the bed, holding your eyes.
You climb into the left side, her on the right, and she flicks off the light before turning to face you, her hands pushed beneath the pillow. She always used to sleep on her stomach, but you guess with the bump she can't anymore and so you turn to face her, knowing that spooning her might be the right way to go, but that's a little tempting and you're not expecting anything to happen with her, but it has in the past and you really don't want to even consider it.
Sleeping in bed with her after the past seven months is challenging enough, not because of sexual desire either. It's far more dangerous than that.
"Can I ask you something?" Brittany whispers, and it cuts through the silence so loud you jolt, and she snatches out a hand to grab your wrist, like she's steadying you.
"Sure," you get out, laughing quietly as she does too but then a seriousness flashes behind her eyes and she tilts her head, digging it into the pillow.
"Why did you break up with Mona?"
Half of you expected that, but the other half is still totally thrown off and so you can't help but leave a silence as an initial answer. She knows why you did it, as you did it straight after the conversation in her room in Montauk and it was because she made several good points. You should be around for everything, and this far along in the pregnancy, shit can happen which needs you to be attentive and constantly present and that wouldn't have been easy to take on had you made Mona your girlfriend or whatever.
She was cute but she was disposable like all the other women, past and present, in your life have been and really, it wasn't a choice because your head wasn't screwed on right. Even thinking about sleeping with Mona with Brittany in the room directly opposite yours in Montauk makes you stomach twist as that was a total douchebag move but you won't be that person again. You've got loads of opportunity to prove it too as you've got appointments to go to, including some prenatal classes that you won't miss for anything and having Mona around would've just made things sticky.
"You know why," you utter back, keeping your voice low as Brittany's eyes dart across your face, and heat rises to your cheeks the longer she does it.
"Do I?"
You bite down on your bottom lip, brows pushing together, and you think back to your conversation, and how you left it hanging. Your actions should've been an answer enough, and it was naïve to think you could actually avoid discussing it, but you feel like being in bed together and doing it is dangerous.
So, you sit up, putting some distance between you and cross your legs, watching as she props herself up on her elbow, the other hand falling to her bump. If you're going to have this conversation now, in a time where you're vulnerable as hell, you need to be sensible about it. You can't count how many times you've felt like it's normal when it wasn't normal, and it ended up in you sleeping together or something happening, and this is the first night of living with Brittany.
You can't fall at the first hurdle, and this is serious.
"You made some good points," you start and fiddle with your nails in your lap, eyes trained on them for a long while before you switch your gaze to ocean blue. "I need to be around you, and here for you, like I promised when we found out you were pregnant," you continue on and Brittany sucks her lips into her mouth, nodding her head. "It's not selfish, and I guess I was naïve to think I could maintain something with someone else whilst we're in a situation like this," you throw in a shrug, trying to come across casual.
You're not sure it works, but you're hardly focused on Brittany's reaction as you're trying to slow down your damn heart. It's freaking racing.
"So it was better to end it before it got serious, and I'm good with that," you bob your own head, and you're being honest, but you also feel like you're hiding something. "Now I can be here, and we can live together, and I won't miss out on anything."
Brittany hums, rubbing her protruding belly but then she stops to reach out, taking your hand and sliding her fingers through yours as she holds your eye. "What did Quinn say to you?" She breathes, and it's so not what you were expecting that you have to swallow against the urge to choke and instead force out a lie.
"She didn't."
"San," she states your name with a tilt of her head, and a knowing glint in her eye and you roll your own because damn, she knows you way too well. Or Quinn. You're not sure, but Brittany's not stupid so she knows regardless, and you can't get out. "She's my best friend, and kind of an ass," she follows up and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Understatement of the century. "I know her, and I know you," she squeezes your hand to make her point clear and you suck your cheeks into your mouth, unable to argue. "I just don't want to feel like you have to live with me, or be around all the time… Even if I said that in my outburst," she grins apologetically.
You can't help but laugh, lips stretching further until you're grinning, too.0 "I'm here because I want to be," you reassure and swallow against the thickness in your throat. "I should've been here before, but I was being stupid… There's still time to make things right though and regardless of what Quinn did or didn't do, I made this decision because it's the right and best thing for us and our little one," you squeeze on her hand this time and blue eyes shine brighter as Brittany smiles softly at you.
"So Quinn did say something?"
You roll your eyes again, not feeling so scared this time as you shuffle back into a sleeping position and urge Brittany to twist around so she can scoot back into you. You're the big spoon, and it's dangerous but you know for the sake of your daughter, you need to make this work with Brittany so you can fight any urges. It may be difficult, but if you act casual and go with normal actions like you used to, then maybe you can get through it.
The fact that Brittany's laughing too, shaking her head, and humming as you curl yourself around her, makes you think she might be okay with ending the conversation there and luckily, she does, grasping your hand and tugging it until it can go palm down on her stomach, feeling the small kick of your child beneath the touch.
"Whatever," she giggles out and you resist the urge to kiss the back of her shoulder as your legs tangle down the end of the bed. "I'm just glad you're here."
You hum in acknowledgement and only moments later, you both fall asleep.
You knew everything would be okay.