Glee 1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Some Things Are Meant To Be**  
Rating: **NC-17  
**Word Count: **10.7k  
**Summary: **She doesn't want to creep around Brittany and tread the water to see if she can trust her; she wants to dive straight in because she's never met someone like Brittany. She's never wanted to know so much about a person after meeting them for the first time and she's never wanted to tell someone everything about herself either.

**Warnings:** Girl!Peen

**Notes: **Okay, you might get a bit confused with the first chapter of this but as it goes on you'll find out what's happening. It's my new G!P Santana fic so lets see how we go :)

/

**December 2015**

"Get up."

Santana rolls over on to her stomach, burying her face into her pillow and grunts into it, otherwise ignoring her best friend. She really has no intention of going out and for some reason Quinn's still here, rummaging through her closet and finding her an outfit that she's not going to wear. She's not going to go, like _seriously _not going to go, so Quinn might as well just give up otherwise Santana foresees a slap heading her way.

"Stop moping and get up!"

"No." It comes out muffled and Santana lays still, hoping that her best friend's given up and left. If only she were that lucky, though. "I don't want to go out."

"You're 21, Santana. Live a little."

"I _just_ broke up with my girlfriend, Fabray," she groans, twisting on to her back and stretching her hands up until her knuckles bump the headboard. "So leave me to 'mope' and get your frigid ass out my apartment and go get laid." Quinn gives her a look, and she rolls her eyes. She doesn't regret being a bitch. _Especially _when she's just been woken up. "Or whatever you do with your spare time. I don't care—" she twists on her front again, nose pressing against the mattress "—just whatever it is, make sure it's without me. I don't want to go out." She picks her arm up and bends it backwards, waving Quinn off blindly. "So shoo."

"You're being pathetic."

Santana lifts her head and turns it enough to glare. "And _you're_ being annoying."

Quinn chuckles and crosses her arms, lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You're coming out," she states and Santana drops her head again.

"No. I'm. Not."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," Santana shakes her head and lets out an angry exhale, shuffling up the bed and twisting until she's sitting back against the headboard. She might as well face the girl if she isn't going to leave her alone.

Fuck. She doesn't get why Quinn won't just do that though. Santana _really doesn't_ want to go out, and she's pretty sure she's never meant it as much as she does now. She knows she's said it before to Quinn and the only reason she didn't want to go then was because she couldn't be bothered, but right now she has a few reasons why she doesn't want to go; all of which include heartache, an ex-girlfriend and a bottle of Russian vodka hiding beneath her sink. She doesn't actually think she's ever wanted to go out _less _than she does right now, and that's really saying something.

Quinn's still glaring at her though with that '_I'm going to get you out' _look that really pisses Santana off, and she knows she's only getting it because she's spent the last four days in the apartment and hasn't even bothered to go downstairs and get her damn mail, but so fucking what? She's an adult. She knows what she's doing and okay, it's a little strange that she's been a complete hermit for the past few days but she's allowed to be. She broke up with her girlfriend for fuck sake and yeah, it wasn't a long-term relationship, but it was still six months and considering Santana's record, that's pretty fucking long so she's upset.

"I'm really not going out," she says, pointedly as her expression drops. "So please, could you just—I don't know—fuck off?"

Quinn uncrosses her arms and looks down at Santana disapprovingly. "No. We're best friends, out of choice, so I'm not leaving unless you're coming with me."

"Well making you my best friend was obviously poor decision-making on my behalf."

"Shut up and get up."

"No."

Quinn steps towards her, glaring down with sharp hazel eyes. "Get up or I'll _make_ you."

It's not an empty threat either. She and Quinn have been friends since freshman year in high school and Quinn's never put up with any of Santana's bullshit. She'll do what she says, and Santana's knows that her friend would _literally _drag her out of bed because that's just what they're like. They argue, fight, and call each other out on the dumb things they do in their life, not even bothering to hold back and protect each others feelings because they both figure there's no point.

If you're going to say something, say it straight and mean what you say. There's no beating around the bush between them and she guesses it's kind of why they've lasted so long as best friends; they're just so damn similar.

She is kind of grateful for Quinn though—not that'd she'd ever say out loud—because she's never met anyone that was willing to stick around for longer than six months. Without Quinn, she'd pretty much be fucked so yeah, she is sort of thankful for her best friend.

So because of that, she lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. "Fine," she growls, shifting out of bed and grabbing the outfit in Quinn's hands but pausing to glare at her whilst they're still holding each side of the fabric. "But if I say I want to go home, we're going, okay?"

Quinn just smirks, nods and Santana yanks the clothes free as she storms off to the bathroom.

/

Turns out, the night isn't that bad.

Santana found a girl, bought her a drink and they spent a good hour just chatting away, hands brushing over bare skin and eyelashes batting in attempt to flirt. Quinn eyes her from the other end of the bar, where she's standing with a tall guy with a mohawk—_so_ lame—and mouths _'told you so' _which just makes Santana want to slap her. But she has to admit, maybe her best friend was right; this girl she's talking to is hot and funny and who knows? Maybe Santana will get laid tonight. Good old rebound sex has never failed her.

Anyway, it all goes well, and when a particular song blasts through the speakers, the girl—_Marley?_ She thinks—grabs her by the hand and leads her over to the dance floor, hands coming up to her neck and hips swaying with the beat. They get close and personal and Santana smirks as Marley leans in but then she decides to be a tease and pulls away.

It's_ supposed_ to be flirtatious because she's _supposed_ to pull Marley into her afterward and kiss her as an apology, but as she jerks backwards away from the kiss she knows Marley wants to give her, she doesn't see where she's going and backs straight into someone else.

Real fucking smooth.

She spins around, hands stretching out in front of her to catch whoever it is but it's too late, and the girl she ran into is now sprawled out, face down, on the dance floor. The music is too loud for the girl to hear Santana apologizing and _fuck, _she feels seriously guilty now and so she bends down, one hand resting on the girls back and the other grabbing at her wrist. She swears she always makes a complete dick of herself when she's trying to impress a girl.

"Shit, I'm sorry—I didn't see you," she blurts out, handling the blonde girl gently. "Are you hurt?"

The girl pulls back up but she's holding her forehead and Santana can see the beginning of a bruise forming on the other girls pale skin. Shit_._ If she hadn't tried to be a tease she could not only be making out with Marley right now, but she wouldn't have damaged some random person.

She's such a fucking idiot sometimes.

"My head," the blonde girl groans, wincing continuously. "It hurts."

Santana bites down on her bottom lip and looks around as if someone will come and help but no-one does, so she just ends up helping this girl up. It's dark, apart from the random spurts of bright lights that most definitely aren't epileptic friendly, and so she can't really see the girl or the extent of the damage done, so she leaves Marley behind, mouthing an apology to her as she looks toward the bar, wondering what she could get back there and whether there's an upstairs bar since the downstairs one is packed.

Ice. That'd be good.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Do you wanna go and get some ice?"

The blonde girl nods weakly and Santana peers over her shoulder to look back at Marley, shooting her another apologetic glance before pressing her hand to the small of the blonde girls back and ushering her off the dance floor and up the stairs she spots toward the bar up there.

/

They're seated by the bar in the very corner, away from the majority of people there, and Santana's just come back with a plastic cup full of ice and a handful of tissue paper. She must have apologized at least fifty times on the way up here and now she's sort of stuck on what to do. It's not like she can apologize any more but she still feels fucking guilty.

Maybe she'll just buy her a drink or something, make it up to her like that. Not that a glass of wine or a cocktail is enough payback for shoving some girl to the floor but it was a freaking accident and she's kind of hoping this girl doesn't sue her or anything, although she has to admit that really would just be the cherry on top of the freaking cake for her day.

So, anyway, she slides on to the stool, turning on it to face the blonde and juggling the items around in her hand. "I'm so sorry," she says for like, the millionth time. "I was dancing and I didn't look behind me when I stepped, and I should've but I didn't. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head at herself, wrapping up a few pieces of ice in the tissue paper and holding it up to the girls hairline where her skin's tinting with a green, purple color. That looks like it's going to hurt in the morning.

"How are you feeling?" She whispers when the girl hisses as the ice touches her.

It's at that moment that the girl looks up for the first time and Santana's breath instantly catches in her throat. This girl has the most amazing blue eyes, and as Santana's own eyes roam around her face, taking in every detail, tracing over the bridge of her nose, over the high curve of her cheekbones and down along her sharp jaw line to sumptuous pink lips, she wonders how the hell she didn't realize earlier how fucking gorgeous this girl is. She looks like something of the front of a damn magazine.

"Yeah..." The girl breathes and Santana exhales at the same time a smile tugs at her lips.

Their eyes meet and the corners of her lips curve up even further the longer they stare at each other. Honestly, she must have been blind not to have noticed this girl before; she's quite possibly _the _most beautiful girl Santana's ever seen in like, well, _ever _actually.

But the longer they stare, the more Santana's aware of this thing between them, something she can only think to describe as a spark. It's like there's chemistry, but it's stronger like that and she can actually feel herself being pulled to this girl. And shit, she's never been one for believing in bullshit like meeting someone and clicking with them instantly because that kind of stuff is saved for movies and books, but right now, she's going against everything she's ever believed in because this girl is proving her embarrassingly wrong.

"Yeah," the girl repeats again, just as breathless as before. "I'm okay now."

Brown eyes flicker between blue, and Santana feels something curdle within her and lets it go before she even knows what it is. "Santana," she blurts out, stilling and mentally face palming herself when she realizes what she just did.

Seriously, could she _be _any smoother?

The most adorable chuckle comes from the blonde girl and Santana finds herself laughing through her nose, too. A second later, she feels cool finger slide over the skin of her forearm, down her wrist and over her palm, grasping her hand and shaking it fully.

"Actually, my name's Brittany, but hey."

Santana can feel the blood rushing to her face at Brittany's touch and at the embarrassment of just blurting out her name randomly. Damn, tonight it's just like the God's are out to get her because she has _zero _game.

First of all she's falling over and knocking some chick to the ground, and the next she's trying to flirt and ending up looking like a complete idiot as she stares at the most beautiful girl she's ever seen and basically yells her own name at this girl. She really wouldn't be surprised if this girl just got up, took the ice and fucked off. Santana wouldn't blame or judge her if she did.

"Actually, I—_uh, _meant that," she dips her head, still mentally slapping herself. _"My _name is—"

"I know what you meant," Brittany teases releasing her hand and tilting her chin up, holding her stare.

There's something behind those blue eyes that just makes Santana feel so comfortable, and even though she's only just met this girl, she knows that she'd pretty much do anything for her right now, and honestly? That scares the absolute shit out of her. But it seems Brittany has no hesitations, or she just doesn't notice Santana's because she just grins, looking between Santana's eyes and tilting her head to the side like she's deliberating something, speaking a few seconds after staring deeply at her.

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

It's just a question, a simple fucking question but Santana's stumped. She knows it's ridiculous and if she were a child, her mom would be scalding her and telling her that she should never go with strangers, but there's something so trusting about Brittany. It feels like she knew her in another life, like she was best friends with her in another life and even though this girl's asking her to just leave Quinn, to get out of this place and go fuck knows where with her, Santana finds herself actually considering the offer.

But she doesn't want to seem to eager. She already has no game so she asks for clarification. "What?"

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Brittany repeats, a little lower and softer and Santana's eyebrows raise.

Yep, this girl is definitely asking her to go somewhere with her despite not knowing a thing about each other. This girl could be a serial killer, but for all this girl knows, Santana could be a serial killer or something too, picking up girls at clubs after pretending to push them over.

That just makes it stranger though, because if it were anyone else doing this, if Santana had ran into anyone else, no matter who they were, Santana would be scowling, throwing them a look of disgust and telling them how fucking crazy they are before she heads back to Quinn and demands to go home. If it were anyone else, she'd be shaking her head, pushing them away, maybe even laughing in their face because hell no would she ever just leave with a complete stranger unless she'd been flirting with them all night, knew a bit about them and was guaranteed some loving at the end of the night.

Yet she's sitting here with this girl, and she doesn't have a single impulse to reject this girl that seems to have come out of nowhere. There's just something so honest and innocent in Brittany's eyes, her smile, her expression. There's just something so trusting and Santana's finding it really fucking hard to pick out a reason why she would say no to this girls question.

Damn, she can't even pretend like there's a reason why she doesn't want to accept the offer because honestly, she can't think of anything better than getting out of here with Brittany.

And because of that, she finds herself exhaling and nodding at the same time, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

An enormous grin stretches across Brittany's face at the acceptance, and the hand Santana has on the blonde girls face slips off as Brittany slides off the stool, grabbing a tanned hand and clutching it tightly. Warmth spreads across Santana's palm, shoots up her arm and settles in her chest, and she glances down at the right moment to see long, slender fingers shifting and slightly through her own. The breath hitches in her throat at the movement, and she whips her head up to gauge Brittany's reaction and finds blue eyes staring straight back at her, shading with the same wonderment, awe and shock that Santana knows is reflecting in her own eyes.

Sliding off her own stool, Santana follows as Brittany begins leading them out the club, and just before they exit, she remembers Quinn and slows down a little, peering over the sea of people to find her friend still at the bar with the mohawked guy. Their eyes meet from across the room and hazel eyes flicker behind Santana's shoulder, taking note of the blonde Santana's with and she shoots Santana wink, which she responds to with a playful glare. Bitch. This _had_ to happen on the only day Santana refused to go out. This _had _to happen on the day Quinn dragged Santana out of bed and shit, she's never going to hear the end of this now.

But before she can even think anymore about how Quinn's going to tease her for months, Brittany tugs gently on her hand and Santana stumbles out the doors the bouncers are holding open for them.

She forgets all about Marley.

/

"Um, why are we here?"

Brittany spins on her heel, bites her lip and grins, swinging Santana's hands in the space separating them. It's so ridiculously adorable that Santana finds herself grinning stupidly to herself as she gazes at this girl, wondering how the hell she could just walk into her life out of nowhere and have this effect on Santana. It's sort of really fucking hard to believe. Maybe she's dreaming.

"To skate obviously," the blonde interrupts her thoughts, blue eyes sparkling.

Glancing around the area, Santana looks to the trees, to the small cute little refreshment stand and then to the giant ice rink below them. It's almost 10pm, and she's sure the rink closes at this time but a few people are skating, some on their own and some in couples, so she just bites her lip and admires it, thinking that actually, despite Brittany being a complete stranger, this is probably one of the most fucking romantic things anyone's ever done for her.

"Come on," Brittany whispers excitedly, tugging on tanned hands as she leads them down the stairs and toward the main entrance.

Much to Santana's surprise, they skip by the box office—where she's sure they're supposed to pay—with a well-timed wink at the guy behind the desk from Brittany who turns a dark shade of pink immediately. He ducks his head, waving his hand and Santana almost rolls his eyes because this girl seems to have everyone as putty in their hands. But they don't stop there, just continue skipping away, Brittany giggling, until they reach the side of the ice rink.

By now, Santana's breathing hard and heavy, her peripheral vision picking up on the clouds of breath coming out from within her as her eyes roam around the ice rink, fingers clutching on to the railings as she gazes, and she's so into it that she doesn't even notice Brittany's left her side.

Instead she thinks about how she's never really been ice skating. When she was younger she used to go with her friends (a bonus of living in New York for winter was the Rockefeller Center Ice Rink) but she was always the one who would sit out on the benches and refuse to go on the ice. She had this irrational fear—or rational, who knows?—that she'd fall over and smash her front teeth in, or like, fall and slice her hand open on the bottom of her ice skate and have to go to ER to get stitches.

(Don't laugh, that actually happened to one of her friends once.)

She was always just too scared to go on the ice and she never fully trusted any of her friends enough to let them guide her around because knowing them, they would've let her go and let her fall flat on her ass, and she just wasn't down with that.

Seconds later, Brittany pops up beside her, clutching two pairs of ice skates and biting down on her lip as she offers out the pair of skates in her left hand. Santana eyes them warily for a second, wondering whether they're her size when she cranes her neck and sees the print on the back of the shoe. They're exactly the right size and she glances up through her lashes, smiling gratefully but curiously. How did Brittany know her shoe size?

"I'm not a stalker or anything," Brittany chimes in, grinning. Santana just cocks her head to the side, intrigued. "My first job was at my uncle's shoe shop and after working there for a while you just sort of learn to size people up."

Ah. There we go. Okay good. Brittany's _not _a stalker.

"Oh, right," Santana breathes, nodding and finding herself completely fascinated by this girl. This stranger.

_Fuck. _What is wrong with her?

"Yeah," Brittany beams back, her eyes sparkling as snow begins falling around them. "Now let's get our skates on and get out on the ice."

Santana gulps, but does as she's told.

/

Within ten minutes, Brittany's already glided around the rink flawlessly at least seven times, and Santana's managed to make it half of the way round, has fallen on her ass seven times and has somehow regained her balance four other times after almost toppling over, but none of her dignity has come back with that.

So now she's clutching to the sides, her fingertips numb as they curl around the rails and okay, she hasn't fallen in the past five minutes, which should be a good sign, but it's not really when you compare that to how far she's traveled in those past five minutes; the total of which is less than five meters. But fuck it, she is _not _letting go of this rail without a fight.

God, this is _so _embarrassing.

"You know, you could let go of the sides."

Santana twists at the passing comment, trying to glare at Brittany but somehow she tips too far to the side and wobbles, her legs parting almost into a split until she has to throw an entire arm over the side, clutching it with all her might to keep her on her feet.

Behind her, Brittany laughs and there's the sound of metal slicing through ice as the blonde skids to a stop at her right, worryingly pale hands bracing the impact as the tips of Brittany's skates ram into the side to stop her.

"I would," Santana grumbles, using her arm muscles to pull herself back up again before she glances at Brittany, the scowl instantly slipping from her face and replacing with a smile when she sees bright eyes, pink ears and a pink nose. "But as you can see, I'm not exactly the most balanced person," she gestures to the sides but Brittany just giggles again, her face scrunching up adorably.

"Well, I'm pretty balanced so give me your hand," she says, pushing off from the side a little until she's standing freely on the ice and holding out a hand. "And trust me."

But Santana just looks at it, then looks back up into blue eyes, momentarily stilling at the other girls words.

See, the truth is, she's never really trusted anyone apart from Quinn because to her, trust is something that needs to be gained and so far in her life, no-one's stuck around long enough in her life to gain that trust; and so her instant reaction is to reject the hand and continue struggling her way around the rink. Except as the words form on her tongue, she realizes that they're not going to come out and finds herself having a hard time pushing past that barrier that's kept her away from so many people before.

Because or some reason, she seems to trust Brittany. She doesn't seem to hesitate as she slips her palm into Brittany's, allowing herself to be gently pulled away from the side until she has nothing but Brittany's arms and her own quivering knees to keep her up, and that's weird because she _always _hesitates with anything like this. It's just really fucking hard to do that when the person asking to be trusted is Brittany, with her innocent smile, her twinkling blue eyes and that soft look that makes Santana feel like she _can _put her trust in her.

Her feet slip a little as her thoughts process, and a spike of fear surges through her chest but Brittany's right there, hand squeezing her own, urging her eyes up and when she does, she finds instantly relief and proof that Brittany's not going to let her fall in deep blue. It's almost kind of frustrating because she's been waiting all her life to meet someone like Brittany and now she's just come along, with no warning or anything and just jumped into her life, and now Santana doesn't want her to leave it.

Which is really fucking strange because they've known each other for under two hours, but at this moment, she seems to find herself not really giving a crap.

This evening really is turning out to be the strangest one of her life. She wonders what else is to come.

"Stop focusing on skating so much," Brittany mutters, smiling softly as she weaves her long legs in and out as she skates backwards. She's definitely done this before. "Just talk to me and relax. If you're tense it won't work."

It's easy to say when you can skate, but Santana bites back the remark and swallows, nodding slowly. She breathes out through pursed lips and flexes her fingers against Brittany's, trying not to focus on what her legs are doing. She swears if she falls on her ass one more time she is so _not _getting up. She's already had enough embarrassment on this ice rink to last her a lifetime. Or at least like, two years or so.

"Okay, so..." She clears her throat, trying to relax her muscles and not focus on skating like Brittany said. "How come this place is open so late?" She asks, looking up from her feet to Brittany's face. She doesn't even remember looking down. "Wasn't it supposed to shut like, twenty minutes ago?"

"Yeah, but my brother-in-law manages this place," Brittany replies, slowly turning to the left and steadying Santana when she follows the movement and slips a little. "You okay?" She quickly interjects and Santana nods, earning a grin. "Okay, good. But yeah, my sister's husband runs this place and he always lets me come here after hours if I want to skate when no-one's around," she shrugs. "It gets kind of busy in the opening hours, so."

"That's pretty cool," Santana says, shuddering at the chill in the air.

Then all her focus goes to Brittany as the snow begins to fall a little heavier around them because somehow, it enhances Brittany's beauty. Don't get her wrong, Santana knows that the blondes beautiful without snow, but there's just something about the whiteness reflecting in her eyes, or how the cold air makes her nose and cheeks tinge pink that makes her gorgeous and adorable at the same time. It's some sort of paradox, because those two don't really fit together but it's true.

Although a few minutes later, when Brittany's cheeks begin to darken a little further, Santana realizes that it's not the cold doing that anymore, but rather Brittany's blushing because Santana's being the smoothest of smooths today and has been freaking _staring _at her for the past few minutes. So she glances away, blood rushing to her face as she tries to cough it out, instead turning her attention to the night sky as the snow falls from it. It's weird, because she's sure the weather report earlier didn't say that it was supposed to snow, but then again, many things have happened on this night that she didn't think would so she's not going to question it.

So instead she lets herself sink into this feeling, this night, Brittany, and looks back down to the blonde to find her smiling back at her, eyes bright and blue. There's something about winter and snow that makes people prettier—maybe it's the feeling both of those things bring—but for some reason she doesn't think that's what's enhancing the beauty Brittany possesses. She thinks that's just _Brittany._ With her glowing skin, freckled cheeks and sparkling sapphire eyes.

(Damn, she's so beautiful.)

"See? You didn't fall over and we've already done a few laps."

Santana blinks herself out her thoughts, coming back to reality. Her eyes flicker around her surroundings and she realizes that damn, she can actually skate. "Holy crap on a cracker," she breathes, her face stretching with an awed smile. "I can skate!"

The second those words leave her mouth, she realizes that she shouldn't of said that because it's just goddamn good to be true. And of course, because of that, as soon as her lips close, she gets so distracted by the softness of Brittany's smile, of Brittany's eyes, and distracted by the way Brittany's looking at her that she completely loses focus, manages to forget that she's on ice on thin ass skates and wobbles. She wobbles, panic and fear sets in, hot and sharp through her veins and instead of snapping her hands forward to clutch on to the other girl like she did the last time she stumbled, she leans back, tries to regain her balance by tensing and moving her feet and it turns out it's _completely_ the wrong thing to do because she just... _falls_.

There's a split few seconds where she swears her life flashes before her eyes (okay, maybe a little dramatic but so what) but then she's falling backwards, her hands flailing into the air and moments later she's colliding heavily with the ice, ass first and then back second and she's groaning into the air as a dull ache begins to throb through several areas of her body.

And she's far too embarrassed by falling over in front of a girl she's trying to impress that she doesn't even give a damn that she's going to have some freaking _huge _bruises tomorrow morning.

Except as she pushes her palms to her eyes, covering her face and the tomato look she knows she's got going on, she also realizes that there's no sudden rush of comfort, or body by her side, hands peeling her own hands away to see if she's okay. There's no worried breaths or even a concerned "are you okay?" because the only thing there _is, _is something that she can only presume is a muffled chuckle. And so to confirm that, she split hers fingers, peeking through the tiny gap and finds Brittany, standing above her, with shining eyes and a hand covering her mouth to clearly stop her from laughing too loudly.

And well, Santana has to admit, she actually thinks she prefers this to further humiliation of Brittany bending down and offering to take her to the ER because she broke her ass because somehow the laughter manages to reduce the embarrassment she feels. So with that thought, she begins thinking about how utterly stupid she looked falling over, the expression on her face when she did so, and how she's here, just lying down on freaking _cold _ice and a freezing dampness that's slowly seeping in through her clothes, and begins laughing too, rolling her eyes playfully and looking away.

Because really, screw dwelling on the embarrassment of doing that. Why do that and become _more _embarrassed when you can totally just laugh it off?

"Are―" Brittany tries to ask something, but bursts of laughter keep pushing through her lips and interrupting it. "Are you—" she splutters again and turns away, taking a deep breath to try and get her to stop laughing, but Santana doesn't even both trying, just keeps laughing at herself. "Are you okay?" Brittany finally manages to get out and Santana suddenly focuses on the throbbing of her lower back and adds in a low whine.

"Ice is really hard," she groans through a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I just broke my ass."

Brittany bites her bottom lip and grins, the giggling beginning to die as she slowly crouches down and offers out a hand. "I think that's enough skating for you then," she says and reaches for Santana's hand, the grin on her face only growing when their skin touches. "Come on."

Santana allows herself to be pulled up and wraps her arms around Brittany's waist backwards when the girl spins so she can be dragged to the side without falling over again. Her hands tuck into the front pockets of the blondes jacket, and she nuzzles into Brittany's neck, smelling sweetness and something else that makes her whole chest fill with warmth and focusing on that instead of anything else.

She doesn't trip once.

/

"That'll be $4."

Santana digs out a ten dollar bill from her jacket and hands it to the cashier at the concession stand, telling him to keep the rest as a tip as she picks up the two cups of coffee just served. It was pretty lucky she managed to get these, because as she arrived at the stand the guy was just closing up, but she managed to convince him to serve her two cups of coffee and slipped him a $6 tip in the end so she's sure he doesn't mind that much.

She heads back over to the benches around the ice, back to the place she sure Brittany was but finds the bench void of a blonde. Her feet turn and she spins, eyebrows pulling together and eyes searching until she spots something in the middle of the ice rink, standing in the dead center, gazing up at the stars.

Something in her heart flutters and she tilts her head to the side to watch Brittany, wondering why she's in the middle of the ice rink with no skates on? Santana did tell her if she wanted to skate some more she wouldn't mind waiting by the side.

"Britt?" She calls, but there's a light wind and it carries her voice away. "Britt?" She tries again but it's no use. She's going to have to go over there.

Sucking her lips, she wipes her feet on the floor—convinced that'll help with the slipperiness of the ice—and cautiously gravitates towards the opening, leading to the ice. Considering she has two cups of scalding hot coffee in her hands, with those stupid cheap, plastic lids that always pop off, she really doesn't want to fall over and takes a deep breath, sending a prayer to the heaven as she lifts a leg and sets a foot on to the white ice.

It's easier than she thought, and she blows out a relieved sigh as her other foot comes to the ice. Weirdly enough it's actually easier to walk on the ice without skates than it is with them and wonders as she heads towards Brittany carefully why people don't just do this instead; it's actually not that bad.

Although she does acknowledge that it's not that much fun. Can't exactly pick up speed with flats.

The moment she's a foot away from Brittany, Brittany twirls around, her chin tucked into her jacket and her nose a bright pink from the cold. The tips of her ears match and Santana can't help but smile at the fluttering in her chest at the sight. Brittany's just... gorgeous.

"Hey Ice Princess," she teases, ducking her head and batting her lashes. "Fallen over again, yet?"

Santana puts on a fake scowl and hands over a coffee. "Shut up," she says playfully as the other girl eagerly takes one cup off her. "I made it over here alive and without spilling the coffee so I think we've made progress."

Brittany nudges her head out the collar on her jacket and peels off the lid, blowing the steam away. "Progress is good," she responds, taking a long sip and staring at Santana with a growing smile. "You wanna sit down?"

Santana nods and turns to walk away, but a hand curls around her elbow and anchors her to her spot. She eyes Brittany quizzically, wondering why she's stopped her when a coffee is pushed into her stomach and she takes it, watching Brittany peel her coat off to show the dress she was wearing in the club. It's a little on the short side but Santana can't seem to take her eyes off how incredible Brittany looks in it as her mouth pops open without conscious thought. The dress is tight around the bust and flows a little from the hips, but it cuts off above mid-thigh and shows just how incredible her figure is, and Santana's not even embarrassed by her obvious gawking because shit, Brittany's fucking _hot._

"Here," the blonde says, laying down her coat on the ice.

It doesn't cover much of the ice but Santana doesn't care since she's way too concerned with the goosebumps forming over pale skin than sitting down. She shifts forward, holding both coffee cups out until Brittany takes them and stares as she shrugs her own coat off, draping it around the other girls shoulders. She has jeans on and a shirt—and she rarely gets cold anyway—so it's obvious Brittany needs it more.

"I don't wanna take your coat," Brittany mutters, moving to take the coat off.

"I'm wearing more clothes than you," Santana fires back, brow arching into a perfect curve and letting her eyes purposely flicker to the coat to stop Brittany from taking it off.

Brittany just chews on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes. "How about we share?"

Santana's mouth opens to protest, but then Brittany's dropping down, sitting on the coat placing both coffee cups beside her on the ice as she pulls Santana down with her. They sit side by side, and Brittany shifts closer, twisting and throwing both legs over Santana's lap so the ice doesn't touch her bare skin as she throws the coat over both their shoulders, trying to give them warmth. Santana just tries not to think about how they could warm up other ways because that's _not _exactly appropriate, and instead lets herself shudder, making it seem like the ice is having an effect on her instead of the sudden close proximity.

"So," Brittany picks up their coffees and hands Santana's to her, their fingertips brushing lightly. "What's your full name?"

Santana gets momentarily distracted by the touch, the spark forming between them and stutters, hiding it behind the coffee as she takes a long sip. "Santana Alma Lopez."

"Alma?"

"Named after my abuela," she explains, smiling, but feeling that same quirk deep within her stomach when she thinks of their last meeting. Her grandma never did like the fact her only grandchild wasn't fully..._ female _down there. She shakes it off, though, putting a smile back on her face and trying to focus on the happier things in life. Like Brittany. "And you?"

"Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Susan?"

"Name after my mom," Brittany grins, licking the coffee from her lips. "For seven generations the eldest daughter has taken their mothers name. It's like a tradition."

Santana smiles back softly, knowing that she could talk to this girl forever. It's so weird because usually her walls never come down so quickly, but it's like they never existed now that she's around Brittany. It's strange, but in the best way. It's like she can breathe right again, after being deprived from oxygen for so long.

"So, any siblings?" Brittany asks, tugging her knees further up and leaning in towards Santana for warmth. Well, Santana assumes it's for warmth anyway even though she's feeling all kinds of toasty right now.

She shrugs, looking at her coffee. "Lonely child."

"Must have been tough."

"Not really," she replies honestly, thinking about her childhood. "I mean I was already pretty independent. Always wanted to play alone instead of with other kids." She lifts a shoulder and drops it. "Was probably better I was a lonely child otherwise I would've bitched out big time."

Brittany giggles, soft and light and it's like music to Santana's ears. She just wants to bottle up the sound and take it home with her.

"What about you?" She asks, bringing the cup to her lips again. She moans quietly as the warm liquid settles low in her stomach. Milky coffee is just the best. "Siblings?"

"Two sisters. One older, married to the guy who owns this place." Brittany's eyes flicker around the ice rink before coming back. "But I barely see her now she's popped. I see my younger sister more though." She bobs her head and cocks it quickly as she says, "She's annoying, but I love her."

"What's the age difference between you and your younger sister?"

"Five years. She's in Sophomore year at McKinley High?" Brittany's voice pitches like she's asking Santana a question. "Do you know it?"

"I used to go there."

"You did?" Brittany asks, her face showing surprise as she twists the cup in her hands. Staring not-so-subtly, Santana nods and feels another smile creep at her lips. She's been smiling so damn much tonight her face might actually break. "I almost went but my mom sent me to a specialist school downtown."

"Specialist in what?"

"Dance," Brittany leans her head on Santana's shoulder and Santana hopes that the girl can't hear how fast her heart is beating. She didn't even know until now it was but now it's all she can focus on. Besides the beautiful blonde, obviously. "But it was a bit of everything." She picks up her head quickly to look Santana in the eye. "Did your school have a Glee club?"

"Yeah."

"It was like that," Brittany explains. "But like, all the time." She rests her head back and breathes out against a tanned neck. Santana shakes as she restrains the shudder threatening to spiral through her. Jesus, Brittany smells good. "It was the best."

Humming in acknowledgment, Santana presses her cheek to the crown of the other girls head and inhales tangy apple shampoo and that sweet something wafting up from Brittany's skin, her eyes fluttering at the scent.

They stay like that for a long moment before Brittany begins to ask more questions and Santana's helpless but to answer.

/

It gets to midnight and the small clock above the main building chimes quietly.

The snow is no longer falling and so they're able to lean back to stare at the sky without having to blink away the snowflakes that fell into their eyes, but it's still really freaking cold and Santana pulls the other girl into her side and rubs a palm over goosebump-covered skin to try and keep Brittany warm since the coat isn't doing a great job at the moment.

They've been chatting about many different things; past relationships, their families, their childhood and within a few hours Santana thinks she's talked more and told more about herself to anyone than she has ever has. In her entire life. Seriously, what is Brittany doing to her?

But anyway, somehow they've now gone from serious conversations to stars and now Brittany's pointing towards a certain constellation in the sky, where five stars are forming a 'w' shape.

"You see that constellation there?" Brittany guides Santana's hand and points it upwards, her palm warm against Santana's hand. "The special one? Hidden behind the others?"

Santana turns her head to the side, cheek touching the coat to stare at Brittany. "Yeah," she breathes, momentarily caught up with the other girl's beauty. Something about that sentence caught her attention but she doesn't know why.

Blood rushes to her face when she realizes she's been staring and she glances to the sky once more, unfortunately missing the way Brittany smirks to herself, knowing there was a little staring going on.

"That's Cassiopeia."

"Cassiopeia?"

Blue eyes slide in Santana's direction. "You don't know her story?" Brittany asks, like she should totally know it.

Santana just shakes her head a little. "No. Should I?"

"Do you wanna?"

She grins as Brittany drops their hands back between them but keeps them together, a pale thumb rubbing over tanned knuckles. The touch is simple, but it makes something in her chest swoon and inflate. Almost like a balloon.

"I'd love to."

A spark of excitement comes from the girl beside her and Santana giggles as Brittany wiggles like it's preparation for the tale.

"Right, well once upon a time there was this queen named Cassiopeia."

Santana nods along, folding her free hand beneath her head and clutching Brittany's hand a little tighter to urge her on.

"She was gorgeous; the most beautiful woman to have ever existed, and no-one in the entire kingdom was offended by the beauty the woman possessed."

Something about how this queen is most definitely not the most beautiful woman in the world—how could she be when Brittany's before Santana at this moment?—almost tumbles from her mouth, but she bites down on her tongue and holds it back. She doesn't want to interrupt the story plus, how embarrassing if she just blurted that out? She's had _plenty _of embarrassment for tonight.

"But one day she really pissed off the sea people—" Santana chuckles but Brittany slaps her playfully on the bicep and tells her to continue listening "—because she said that she and her daughter, Andromeda, were so beautiful that no-one could surpass their beauty. She got too big for her boots—her daughters too—basically and the sea people, who I think must have been pretty hot too 'cause they got offended—" Brittany's nose crinkles cutely as she says that. "—overheard her and told on her to the sea-king."

"Poseidon," Santana chimes in. She knows that much.

Brittany grins, her eyes flashing with something unreadable and she nods slowly, twisting her palm around Santana's to tangle their fingers together and lets out a small sigh at the feeling. That thing inside Santana's chest blooms further and she just stares, wondering how she hasn't known Brittany all her damn life. It feels like it.

"Exactly," Brittany whispers. "But anyway, the sea people demanded that Cassiopeia was to be punished, and so some crap happened and Cassiopeia's daughter, Andromeda was sent to the bottom of the sea naked to be eaten by some big ass monster."

Santana sucks in her lips so she doesn't chuckle and Brittany shifts beside her, propping herself up on one elbow so she's spooning Santana's side and leaning over her a little, her hair tumbling down and littering a little across the ice. Santana has to strongly ignore the urge to reach over with her free hand and twist her fingers around the strands because she fears she may never let go.

"Don't laugh," Brittany says sternly but her tone's too light to be serious. "So yeah, naked chick and monster, and then some guy with sandals saved Cassiopeia's daughter and fell in love with her. They got constellations as a present from the God's, but the same God's thought Cassiopeia got off too lightly considering all that stuff that happened to her daughter was because of her."

Brown eyes flicker down to pink lips and Santana becomes completely mesmerized by the way Brittany speaks. So much so that she almost doesn't hear the rest of the story.

"And so they punished her by securing her to her throne and hanging her upside down in the heavens, where she would stay forever, circling Polaris. And those stars?" Brittany's pointer finger on her free hand points towards the sky. "The 'w' shape represents Cassiopeia's crown, turned upside down for eternity."

It's obvious the story's finished and yet Santana's still staring at the other girl like there's more. She stares and Brittany stares straight back, her blue eyes boring into Santana's like she's trying to see into her soul. And usually something like that would creep the crap out of Santana, but there's just something so interesting and trusting about Brittany that Santana just wants to become an open book. She doesn't want to creep around Brittany and tread the water to see if she can trust her; she wants to dive straight in because she's never met someone like Brittany.

She's never wanted to know so much about a person after meeting them for the first time and she's never wanted to tell someone everything about herself so not only will she be trusting Brittany, but Brittany will be trusting her.

Shit... She doesn't even know.

Brittany just gives her something. Something that scares her but something that makes her want to say screw it and give it a try.

Pulling their tangled fingers to her side, Santana props herself up on her elbow so the distance between their faces decreases a little. Brittany doesn't pull back, just stays rooted whilst her free hand comes up to the buttons on Santana's shirt near her neck and toy with them, blue eyes focusing on that. Their breath mixes in the space between them and Santana's pulse becomes almost deafeningly loud as she lets her eyes roam over the other girls face. She wants nothing more to kiss her right now. She's never met someone so wonderful.

So she's going to do it. "Hey, Britt?"

Brittany's eyes flicker up momentarily but drop just as quickly, and Santana's heart thumps loudly against her ribcage as her right hand comes up brush across a pale cheek, blushed pink with the coldness lingering in the air. The touch is feather soft but she feels Brittany's body lean into it, letting it drag on longer than intended and she realizes that Brittany wants to kiss her just as much as she wants to kiss Brittany. Now she has nothing to fear.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?"

A soft smile tugs at the corners of Brittany's lips and it's like they can't do anything but kiss as their eyes meet, the yes coming through blue without pink lips saying it and so they do just that.

Santana lets her fingers linger over the sharp bone of Brittany's jaw as she tilts her head up, and Brittany ducks down that little bit until their lips are ghosting over each other, both of them stilling to see who will make the first move. But Santana still has her eyes open and spares a glance into now dark blue eyes that are gazing right back at her, a smirk evident in them, and she gives in first, closing the distance as well as her eyes as she sinks against Brittany the moment their lips touch.

It's soft as first, just the press of lips against lips, and Santana's mouth quirks up at the side into a smile that's quickly erased by Brittany shifting the kiss and sucking on her upper lip. A moan tumbles from her mouth and she kisses back a little harder, pressing closer until Brittany's eyelashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks and suddenly she's lightheaded and a flood of warmth seeps through her veins and beneath her skin.

This is like a dream.

Her entire body sizzles from the kiss, and she pulls back for air but Brittany follows her quickly, bringing their mouths back together in a much deeper kiss, her hand dropping a tanned one and coming up to Santana's hair instead, tangling into dark locks. They kiss and kiss, deep, slow and lazy, until they're both out of breath and sighing into the small pecks they press against each other as their lungs refill with the necessary oxygen.

But even then they don't pull away from each other, just keep their foreheads tilted together and breaths trading between their mouths as they gaze into each others eyes, Santana's thumb stroking over Brittany's jaw and Brittany's thumbs rubbing circles on the spot beneath Santana's ear.

"I'm so glad I met you," Brittany whispers into her lips and Santana takes a deep breath in, her heart palpitating within her chest as the words sink through her skin.

"You have no idea," she breathes back through a chuckle and that something is back in Brittany's eyes, making Santana spill nothing but honesty. "Meeting you has been the best thing that's happened to me."

They speak no more, just gaze and gaze, reading each other in ways other people have never been able until the clock strikes two, and then the spell is broken.

/

**December 2018**

Santana comes home one night, kicking off her flats and slipping into the pair of socks she keeps by the side table for nights just like this.

Work was hectic tonight. She never comes home later than 11pm and yet it's 1am now and she's just getting in. Seriously, sometimes she wishes she wasn't such good friends with Holly and that she wasn't treated or paid as much as she does because she'd totally quit. It's only bar work, but she's studying part-time to become an event and wedding planner so it pays the rent and then some and that's cool for now. It's exactly what she needs.

Anyway, she slips on the socks and pads through the apartment, yawning and rubbing her hand over her face. She gets into the kitchen, opens the fridge, grabs a beer and is halfway to cracking it open when she hears her name being called. She doesn't even manage to take a sip before she wanders back into the living room and spots Brittany on the couch, her boyfriend Jason sitting beside her. How didn't she notice them before?

They're both grinning and Santana's lips twitch as she looks between them, wanting to smile back but there's a weird itch in the back of her mind that's making her think there's something more to it. Something she's not going to like, if the way Brittany's looking at her is anything to by. Those blue eyes are too forced.

"Hey..." she draws slowly, picking at the label of her beer. "Is everything alright?"

Jason shifts and throws her a smirk that Brittany doesn't see. It's weird because she's never really had that big of a problem with Brittany's boyfriend. Sure, they've never got on but that was just a clash of personalities, as well as something else that she likes not to think about, and so when Jason throws her that, she gets confused. She may not exactly like the guy, but she's never really verbalized it. Her dislike would probably be misinterpreted and she's got to get along with her best friends boyfriend. That's like a rule of friendship.

"We have something to tell you," Brittany beams and Santana can't fight the grin that comes across her face. That always happens when Brittany smiles at her. "Come and sit."

She taps the coffee table and Santana moves towards it, perching cautiously on the edge. Her arms come down to rest on her thighs and the beer bottle hangs loosely from her left. She still hasn't taken a sip yet but there's that itch in the back of her mind saying she's going to need more than one of these after this news.

"Okay... What's going on?"

Blue eyes roam around her face and Brittany sits forward, reaching out to take Santana's hand and squeezing it gently. Touching Brittany always makes her skin flare and warmth pool within her chest, just like the first time Brittany ever touched her. Except she doesn't notice the way Brittany's staring at her, at the way Jason's staring at Brittany stare at her until a few seconds later and then the news comes out before she can ever fully prepare herself for it. Had she been looking into Brittany's eyes, or taken in the way Brittany shifted forward and taking her hand like she was trying to comfort her with bad news, she would've been able to suck in a deep breath before choking on it.

"Jason proposed."

Something cold drops in Santana's stomach as the words loop over and over in her mind, and she knows she looks like a complete freak just sitting there, staring blankly with a slack jaw but how the hell else is she supposed to look? Brittany's just told her she's getting _married. _To that _douche bag? _When the hell did that even happen?

"Excuse me?" She asks, lowering her head a little and perking up her ears because there's no way in hell what she just heard is actually true.

Brittany looks her in the eye, a wide grin on her face but Santana can't take note of any of that when she's seeing something different behind blue eyes. Still, Brittany stays true to the excitement her body is showing and bounces in her spot, their hands jigging between them.

"I'm getting married!"

Hearing it for a second time isn't any better and for another few seconds, Santana just looks between Brittany fiancée and Brittany, trying to take it in because she was so sure it would never come to this. She never thought Jason was marriage material. That Brittany would marry someone like Jason because... well, she's not going to say. Even in her thoughts she sounds like a bitter, jealous bitch so out loud won't be any better.

So when the news finally sinks in, when she finally lets herself accept it, she decides it would be good if she reacted sooner rather than later and chooses that reaction to be positive. After all, she has no reason _not _to be. There _might_ be this weird pressure on her chest, her stomach _might _feel like it's sinking and that something just jumped up and lodged itself into her throat, but so what? This is big news; _that's _why she's feeling like this because it's going to change a lot of things and that's just too much to process.

Forcing a smile, she begins nodding like she's approving of it—not that she has to because she's happy and so is Brittany—and lets her face slowly slip into a grin. And okay, it _might _not be genuine, but it will be soon because she's just in shock and it takes time to process things sometimes. The smile will be real, and she tries to show that by stretching the grin as far as it'll go but she can just feel how fake it is in her eyes, and hopes to God that Brittany's so excited that she's getting married that she isn't paying much attention to anything else.

"That's amazing!" She finally manages to get out, lacing her voice with excitement and shifting forward to throw her arms around her best friend, luckily to the left so Jason can't see the slight hesitation she has on her face as her body reacts to Brittany's touch. "Congratulations, Britt!" She spares a glance toward Jason, still sitting on the sofa with a smug ass grin as his arms stretch along the back of it and she forces herself to give him a small nod. Suddenly her dislike has shot up. "You too, Jason."

Brittany nods against her shoulder, her arms tightening around a tanned neck and Santana knows there's something more to it by the subtle squeeze in biceps, but decides not to say anything. After all, she could just be over thinking this because like there's no reason for Santana not to be _not _happy, there's no for Brittany to not be happy. So she ignores it, reluctantly pulling out the hug and forcing a feigned grin back on her face.

"It is," the blonde says and this time, it's hard not to notice the something in Brittany's voice. "But I wanna ask you something."

Santana puts on a soft smile, showing her willingness to listen despite knowing her eyes are betraying how she feels. They feel heavier than usually, and her cheeks are now aching with the forced smile she's been putting on. Damn. It's only been a few minutes of smiling. If Brittany's getting married she really needs to perk up her acting skills.

Even if she's not sure _why _she has to act. She _should _be happy for Brittany.

"I'm all ears," she says, trying to put a lightness to the situation but all she hears is a head shake and a cluck of a tongue in her mind.

"I know you're studying and sometimes your work is really hectic..." Brittany starts, wringing her hands in front of her and biting her lip, but she hasn't said anything more and so Santana just nods, agreeing with her best friends words. "But I was wondering—since you're studying wedding planning and such—that maybe..."

Blue eyes begin shining and her eyebrows lift a little and Santana already knows what's coming without the other girl saying it. She just kind of doesn't want to hear it.

"Would you help plan my wedding with me?"

Something deep within Santana's chest clenches at the question as a fluffy of images flash through her mind; some of helping Brittany picking out a dress, some of helping Brittany picking out a song, some of helping Brittany pick out a venue but then there's some of watching Brittany walk down the aisle and that makes that clench just a little tighter, a little harder. It makes her want to say no or blurt out some ridiculous excuse, but then she thinks about how she's supposed to be happy for Brittany. How this is what best friends do, and she doesn't have a fucking leg to stand on.

So she just nods and tries another smile, figuring this pressure will go away because it's just the shock of all this news at once. That's all.

"Of course I will," she says, forcing another smile. "I'd be honored to be your wedding planner."

Brittany squeals in excitement and wraps her up in another hug, but Santana just buries her face into Brittany's shoulder and tries not to focus on the pressure on her chest.

It'll go away.

It has to.

/

**I know it's a little confusing but yeah, things will be explained as it goes along. Hope you enjoyed and please, leave a comment on your thoughts so far! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Two]  
**Rating: **NC-17  
**Word Count: **Just above 10k

**Notes: **Right, well thank you for all reviewing the last chapter; your comments are greatly appreciated! Though I see I have a mix of responses, but I can promise the people who are hesitant about this that it isn't like _If It Hurts This Much. _There are a few similarities as you can see, like the wedding, Santana and Brittany being friends, but I've got an outlined plan of this and it's definitely NOT like my other fic so please, bare with me and don't jump to conclusions.

/

They pop open a bottle of champagne to celebrate, and Santana sits on the armchair, watching Brittany snuggle into Jason's side as they say a cheers and all take their first sip. She can see how happy her best friend and it makes her smile herself, but there's still that little something tugging at the back of her mind and no matter what she does, she can't seem to shake it.

So she just keeps drinking and drinking, and unexpectedly, soon enough, she's drunk. Champagne's what she would call her 'weakness' drink. The one that no matter how much she drinks, whether that's a small amount or not, it will always go straight to her head. It's Brittany's weakness drunk too, and that'd probably explain why she's barely even drunk half of her first glass, meanwhile Jason's on his fourth and Santana's giving him a run for his money. Except she's just a little more out of it than he is.

"You're drunk," Brittany giggles from the sofa and Santana blinks a few times, regaining her vision before gazing at her best friend with a goofy smile.

"And you're pretty," she slurs back, finally taking note of the empty spot beside Brittany. Where's Jason? "Where's the boy?" She asks, dragging her head from left to right to search the room for him. Her eyes go a bit funny, vision a little distorted, and she squeezes them shut, opening them purposely and widening them to stare properly.

"He went out to take a call."

The voice is a lot louder than it was a minute ago and Santana presses her palm to her forehead, covering one eye and squinting at the face right before hers. Brittany's now crouching on the floor, setting down her glass and taking tanned hands between her own, carefully. Santana has no idea when her best friend got here, when she got up or even why but she's a little too distracted by the way blue eyes are slowly roaming over her face. Though she suspects that's probably just the alcohol making her think Brittany's staring when she's really not.

"Are you okay?" Brittany questions and sucks in her bottom lip, her eyes clouding with concern as they continue their trail over Santana's face.

And Santana takes a few moments but then her heart falters, suddenly fearing the question. Shit. Brittany's not going to bring up her earlier delayed reaction is she? She's not going to ask about the strange reaction she had to the news of the engagement. If she is, Santana really _isn't _in a position to respond with anything. Not unless she wants to start crying or blurt out the truth. She has a habit of doing both when she's strongly influenced by alcohol.

"I'm good," she pushes out, hoping her words came out clearer than before as she holds back the panic bubbling inside her. Her head cocks to the side as she thinks over Brittany's question again, forgetting all fear of why Brittany might be asking her this. "Why wouldn't I be?"

The corners of Brittany's lips pinch up and it's a long few seconds before she replies. A long few seconds of Santana gazing at Brittany and wondering how someone can be so pretty.

"You've got a lot going on, San," the blonde girl finally comes out with, stroking a palm over the back of Santana's hand whilst cradling the other. "And I know planning my wedding is going to give you more stress."

She doesn't know why, but that answer seems to send a cool wash of relief through Santana's body. She thinks it might be to do with the fact that Brittany _isn't _asking her about her obvious dislike toward the news of the engagement, though she doesn't want to jinx it because just her luck, she'll just stop panicking and then Brittany will pounce on her with the question and honestly, Santana doesn't do well under pressure. She freaking cracks when she's put under it, or says something mean, and she doesn't really feel like doing either of those, thank you very much. So she's just going to keep quiet and send a prayer to the heavens that Brittany never brings up her lack of response or the look she just _knows _she had on her face when she heard the news.

"Oh," she clears her throat and sits up a little. "No, it's fine. I'd love to do it."

Brittany grins, wide and bright. "Yeah?" She asks, beaming with excitement as her hand clutches Santana's tighter.

And really, Santana just can't resist that, so she rolls her eyes to try and hide the smile on her face. "Yeah, Britt Britt. I'd be honored."

"Awesome."

They grin at each other for a long moment, just staring and Santana suspects she might feel a little awkward if there wasn't alcohol in her blood, but she can't find a damn to give right now and so just continues gazing into Brittany's eyes. But the longer the stares, the quicker her mind races with thoughts of Brittany, marriage, freaking _Jason, _and that's when a certain memory pops to the forefront of her mind, making her pause. Now, as she thinks about it, she knows how inappropriate it is to bring it up considering Brittany deserves to celebrate over this, but once again the amount of alcohol running through her blood stream, she can't seem to find the filter that stops stupid things from coming out her mouth and it just pours out.

"Don't you think... think it was a bit out of the blue?" She slurs, wetting her lips and looking between blue. "Like, Jay-bag proposing? Wasn't it a little out of the blue?"

Brittany's heard jerks back a little and she squints, ignoring the quip about her fiancée. It kind of bothers Santana and she doesn't know why.

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean, like, after our conversation..." Santana tries but can tell by the further narrowing of blue eyes that she's not going about this the right way. "A few months back... when he said all those things and now it's just... changed. So quickly," she explains but feels like she isn't making sense. She's pretty sure her words aren't coming out the way she hopes they are, but she really, _really _wants to get her point across. Though if Brittany's expression is anything to go by, she should probably change the way she's getting it across. "I mean, it's so..." her eyes slide to the right as she think of the correct word. The _polite _wording of it. "_Convenient?"_

Blue eyes narrow until they seem almost closed but Santana's too focused on the memories washing through her to really notice.

/

_Santana came home one night after the most horrific date and found Brittany on the sofa, curled up under a blanket with some romantic comedy playing on the TV in front of her. Her heart immediately swelled with the image and all thoughts of how her night went shot straight out her mind as she headed over to her best friend and knelt down, carefully brushing a piece of hair from Brittany's face and just staring._

_Even though they were best friends, she couldn't deny that Brittany was gorgeous. It was just one of those things that was undeniable. Like the beauty of sunset, or the sound of a baby laughing. Those things were beautiful and Brittany just fit into it because she was her._

"_Britt," she whispered. "Britt, sweetie," she let her palm drift down to Brittany's jaw to sweep along it as the other girl began to stir, eyes fluttering open. "I'm home."_

_When blue eyes finally met hers she smiled widely, her heart flipping and turning inside her chest._

"_Hey," Brittany stretched her arms way above her head and several bones cracked, making Santana wince. She smacked her lips together to moisten them and nuzzled further into her pillow as her arms returned to her side, curling back up. And damn, she really was the most adorable being on the earth. "Time is it?"_

_Santana smiled softly, watching her best friend in awe. "Around ten thirty," she answered, stroking her hand over her face again._

"_And you're back already?" Brittany blurted out, seeming a hell of a lot more alert. Her eyes were wide, all sleep gone from her appearance and her brows were knitted together so tightly Santana felt the need to reach out and stroke over them, but she didn't. "What happened?"_

_She shook her head at the memory of her evening, thinking about how awful it was. "She just wasn't right for me," she shrugged, knowing that answer was just as good as any._

_Blue eyes roamed around her face for a long moment before Brittany shuffled back against the sofa and patted the space in front of her, not looking entirely convinced by her words. Instantly the gesture perked up Santana's mood and she shifted on to her feet to lie beside her best friend, their bodies pressing close together, legs tangling together and hands finding purchase on hips and waists to ensure no-one fell off. That hardwood floor really did what it said on the tin. A few months back, she and Brittany were cuddling and somewhere along the line they fell asleep. To make a long story short, Santana fell off, landed on her front (somehow) and had the breath ripped straight from her chest._

_Anyway, they were always touchy __― __which was odd considering Santana was never like that with anyone else but Brittany had never been just 'anyone' and it was just one of those things they did. It was one of those things that started off a little strange, because of everything that had happened, but just grew and transformed into normality after a while. Snuggling, cuddling, lying heads on laps and spontaneous hugs throughout the day was all that was included; they were always just so close so this was nothing out of the normal._

_But it was sometimes hard for Santana to remember that._

_Sometimes she'd come home from a busy night at the bar, or the library, or even come back from an awful date, and she'd be greeted by a beautiful blonde with a smile that could light up the entire town. And Brittany alone, even with a simple glance and a hug would be able to just wash off all the shit of Santana's shoulders and make her feel warm and welcome, like that is where she was supposed to be. In Brittany's arms._

_And that's why sometimes it was hard to remember where she stood with Brittany. They were friends. The best of friends, actually, but sometimes when she was down and moping around, moaning about how the overcast the weather was reflecting her feelings and wanting nothing more than to just curl up under a blanket and fall asleep to the sound of rain pelting against the windows, Brittany would come along and it was just... disappear. It would vanish and she'd be left with this warmth inside her chest that she would stay there until she was alone once more._

_So sometimes she had to force herself to accept that she was just Brittany's friend. That they were just incredibly close best friends. That was one of their rules._

_And damn,did Santana know how much rules sucked. _

_But it was one of her favorite things, having Brittany comfort her and coming home to Brittany, and saying something would only change the situation and she didn't want that. Plus, there wasn't even anything _to _say. It's not like she was in love with Brittany or anything; she just liked coming home to her and being with her as much as she could. She liked their hugs, cuddles, togetherness. She liked waking up, knowing that the first face she would see outside the mirror was Brittany's and she liked knowing that most of the time, her face would be the last living thing Brittany saw before they both parted ways to their respective bedrooms and went to sleep._

_That's all. She just liked Brittany and everything to do with the girl. She was kind of addictive._

_A finger tracing around her brow brought her out from her daze and she blinked, bringing her vision from blankness up to blue eyes to find them staring at her quizzically. _

"_You're thinking," Brittany stated, eyes clouding with concern and lips pinching at the side. "And not in the good way."_

"_I'm fine," Santana breathed, knowing she couldn't possibly tell Brittany what was on her mind without sounding like a total freak. "Just thinking about life."_

_The blonde girls head tilted to the side as much as it could against the sofa cushion, eyes boring into dark ones. "What about life?"_

_Santana flexed her hand against Brittany's waist, eyes drifting down to watch the movement as she did so and there was this weird ache behind her ribcage as she inhaled deeply. She thought if she filled it with oxygen or even left her response dwelling for a few minutes that it would go away, so she stayed silent and took a few more breaths but it just never disappeared. The ache stayed and so she figured it was something to do with that burrito from the questionable stand on the sidewalk and decided to just spill._

"_What I never find the right person?" She murmured, purposely diverting her vision down to where her hand lay on Brittany's wait. "What if I..." she trailed off, thinking she was stupid for even having this conversation. "What if I never find _that _person?" She continued, now deciding it was the right time to lift her gaze to meet blue. "You know? Like, 'the one.'"_

_Brittany's eyebrows pushed together in the middle of her forehead and she stared at Santana for long moments, reading her. With other people, that would've totally made Santana feel uncomfortable, but she knew there was no bad intention behind Brittany reading her and honestly, it was kind of relaxing to not have to keep her guard up all the damn time. She liked that she didn't have to keep Brittany at arm's length because Brittany wouldn't hurt a fly._

"_You will," Brittany suddenly said, confidently, tearing Santana from her thoughts. "I know for a fact you will, San." Her long fingers trailed along Santana's cheekbone and down to her bottom lip, skimming over it lightly and making Santana suck in a sharp gasp, praying that it was audible. "People with a heart like yours will never end up alone."_

_Santana stared, eyebrows rising a little and lips dropping open as Brittany's finger slipped away from her face. She thought about the words, and let them really sink in through her chest, curl around her heart and hug it gently until she felt nothing but warmth where that ache behind her ribcage used to be. And it shouldn't make her feel like that, because there was still that stupid tiny voice in the back of her mind from the night they met, telling her that this wasn't fair. That she shouldn't have to deal with this but she just ignored it. Every single time._

_After all, there was no point in listening to it if she knew she and Brittany were just best friends._

"_You think?"_

"_Of course," the blonde girl confirmed, shifting even closer and spreading warmth across the entirely of Santana's skin as they melted into each other like chocolate on a summer's day. Their noses bumped and eyes locked, and Santana was used to this distance between them, or rather _lack of, _but it always had _exactly _the same effect on her. Speeding up of her heart rate, the sudden dryness of her lips and the way her mind was almost clouded because being that damn close to Brittany was just entrancing. "I mean, you've got to make mistakes to find perfection, to the learn the lessons you need to and to find your way, but I know you'll get there."_

_Hearing it from someone else wouldn't have felt anywhere near as good as hearing it from Brittany. Plus, from Brittany, Santana actually believed it._

"_I will?"_

"_You will," Brittany breathed, her eyes softening. "I have no doubt about it."_

_Santana let her eyes fall shut as she tipped their foreheads together and just reveled in the feeling of Brittany's arms wrapping around her and pulling her tight. Those moments were pretty rare, despite the consistent proximity of their relationship. Sure, they'd sit together, maybe rest a head in a lap and stroke fingers through hair and have a little cuddle here and there__―__that was just them__―__but lying down and snuggling so intimately, noses squashed together and lips so close if they moved half a centimeter they'd be kissing? They weren't so common._

_And as she lay there and thought about Brittany's words, she realized there was something she hadn't picked up on. Why was Brittany here anyway? She was supposed to be on a date with her long-term boyfriend, Jake or Jason or Jack, or whatever his name was. Plus Brittany seemed a lot more cuddly than usual, and she didn't need a reason behind this snuggle because with Brittany, she was always down with snuggling, but there was something more and Santana just knew it. She could feel it._

"_Wait," she pulled back until they could face each other, her eyes narrowing into a squint. "What's wrong with you?"_

_Brittany blinked. "Nothing."_

_Santana squinted further, her expression clearly not buying that crap. "No, come on," she pressed on, cupping a pale cheek and staring into deep, blue eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you here?"_

"_I live here?" Brittany's nose scrunched, showing confusion but it was utterly adorable and Santana let herself chuckle a little._

"_No," she said through a chuckle. "I mean, weren't you supposed to be with the boy?"_

"_Jason," Brittany corrected, sighing. Santana kind of loved that she could make a jibe at 'Jake' and get a reaction. Showed Brittany cared about what Santana thought. "And yeah, but we had a fight."_

_Santana tensed immediately. Anyone that upset Brittany was immediately on her list and she'd have no hesitation taking this Jason kid out. It's not like they didn't get along, he just... he just wasn't her favorite person for more than one reason._

"_What did he do?" She gritted through a clenched jaw, searching blue eyes. "Did he hurt you? Make you cry?" _

_Brittany chose to look away instead of meeting Santana's gaze and Santana knew her best friend was about to cry. She shifted forward and pressed the blonde against the back of the couch, forcing her to look at her. _

"_Britt, you need to tell me if he hurt you or made you cry. I swear to God I will go all Bruce Lee on his puny white ass__―"_

"_No," Brittany cut off, her voice so small Santana's anger vanished. "No, he didn't hurt me. We just... we talked about things."_

_Brown eyes narrowed again. "Things being?"_

"_The future," Brittany shrugged, biting her bottom lip and looking up through watery eyes. "He just..." She paused to suck in a shaky breath. Santana took the opportunity to reach between them and grab the other girls hand, tangling their fingers together and secretly telling her that she'll listen when Brittany's ready to tell her. Even if she had that burning need to just _know._ "__He just said that he didn't―that he didn't want to marry me."_

_Santana's eyes almost bulged out her head, her mouth dropped open and she let out this weird little scoff that sounded almost like a laugh, but kind of like she was choking. Brittany instantly gazed at her, confusion edging across her features and she just had to shake her head because that probably wasn't the reaction Brittany wanted her to have to something like that._

"_Britt that's―he's just―that's fucking _stupid," _she hissed, mostly to herself and if Jason were in the room, to him, too. "That's such bullshit."_

_A crinkle formed between fair eyebrows. "What do you mean?"_

"_I mean―you're perfect," Santana blurted out, not quite understand what she'd just said. Later she would lie in bed, think over words and realize what she'd said and meant, but at that moment she ignored the way Brittany's heart skipped a beat and continued talking. "You're perfect, Britt. You're everything anyone could ever want in a wife and if he doesn't want to marry you that's complete bullcrap," her voice held so much strength that even she was surprised herself. But she couldn't hide it, nor was she going to take it back. She meant what she was damn well saying. "Seriously, if he doesn't then he's a bigger idiot than I thought."_

_A smile tugged at the corner of pink lips. "You think so?" Brittany asked sheepishly, ducking her chin to her chest and peering up through her lashes._

"_Britt," Santana breathed, scrunching her face up to pause. She wasn't quite sure how she could tell Brittany just how stupid that Jason kid was for not wanting to marry her. Who the hell wouldn't want to? Hell, if Santana could she'd marry Brittany in a second. There'd be no hesitations about it. "That guy is so fucking dumb I can't even―he's just―such a freaking... _ass_. Honestly, if I were him there's no chance I'd ever say that and―"_

"_Why?"_

_Santana stilled, her heart thumping irregularly inside her chest. "What?"_

"_Why wouldn't you say that you wouldn't marry me?"_

_Oh shit. There it was. Brittany was so close. So _so _close that there was no chance in hell Santana could lie without Brittany seeing right through it, but as Santana thought about it, the truth didn't seem _that _bad after all. When was telling the truth ever a bad thing? Plus, if anything, she was totally complementing Brittany._

_With her free hand, she pushed back Brittany's to get a better look at her face as she prepared herself to speak the truth. Fuck it. She had nothing to lose and she was trying to cheer up her best friend. It was totally okay to say. _

"_Because I'd marry you in a second," she whispered and Brittany's breath hitched. Yet Santana just continued, "You'd be the perfect wife because you _are _perfect. And Jake or Jason or whatever the hell his name is, saying he doesn't want to marry you just proves how much of an ass hat he is."_

_They stayed silent for a long moment after that declaration. Santana's hand was still on Brittany's cheek and her other hand was still clasping Brittany's free one, and their eyes were still gazing into each other but it was like no-one wanted to break it first. No-one wanted to look away and so the words settled in and the smiles on their faces began to fade and the seconds just ticked by until blue eyes finally glanced away, but not around the room and not towards the TV playing in the background, but towards the lower half of Santana's face. To her lips._

_And that brought on the overwhelming urge to just move that little bit closer and close the distance between them, kissing Brittany and repeating that she'd marry her any day into her mouth._

_Santana wanted to so badly. _

_So fucking badly that she was almost shaking with the strength she was using to bite back it back, but she knew she couldn't do it. There were boundaries between them, rules and lines and all that jazz, and if she did that she'd be stepping so far past the lines that they were just a dot in the distance. They couldn't go back there. Not after what happened last time and so she did the only thing she could do and pulled Brittany into a hug. Wrapped her arms around the blonde girls waist and slipped one beneath a long neck to coax her best friend into the tightest hug she'd ever given. And Brittany responded by sighing into her neck and nuzzling gently, fisting the back of Santana's shirt to keep their embrace going for as long as possible. Totally didn't help with the whole wanting to kiss her thing, but at least she couldn't at that angle._

"_Hey, Santana?"_

_Santana didn't back away; that would have broken her restraint. "Yeah, B?"_

"_When we're 28, and if we're still single, do you wanna marry me?"_

_Santana was so shocked by the sudden proposal that she couldn't help but reel back so far she would've fallen straight off the couch if it weren't for the hands on her back and waist. Her mouth dropped open so far she probably looked like a gaping fish, but she couldn't really care about that. Did Brittany ask her to future marry her? What the hell? Where did that even come from?_

"_Wh―at?" She croaked, voice cracking and expression completely shocked. Blindsided would be a good word to describe how she had felt._

"_You and me," Brittany pushed gently at her shoulders until they were face to face, staring into each others eyes once more. She shrugged as she continued, like what she'd just said totally wasn't out of the blue and so surprising that Santana damn near died from shock. "We should make like, a pact."_

_Santana didn't reply, just stared and waited it out. Was Brittany serious?_

"_Okay..." Brittany pushed and twisted until she could sit up, and grudgingly Santana did too, instantly missing the warmth of the other girls body pressed against her own. But this was serious talk, she could see it in her best friends expression and so they both shifted their legs, bumping limbs a few times until they were seated opposite it each on the couch, sides pressed into the back of it and legs crossed in front of them, kneecaps touching and hands holding each other in the gap between their shins. "Are you ready?"_

_Not knowing what she was supposed to be ready for, Santana shrugged and nodded at her, listening intently. She was still so shocked by the whole thing that she hadn't managed to get a word out. The only thing she could relate herself to at that moment was in Friends when Ross found out that Rachel was pregnant. It was that kind of shocking. That kind of big, and Santana was sort of sitting, staring and blinking. She had no idea what to say._

_So she just offered a weak nod._

"_Right, okay, basically," Brittany shifted and the beginning of a smile tugged at her lips. "When you and I," she gestured between them. "Are 28, and if we're both still completely unattached―"_

"_Does that include fuck buddies?" Santana cut in, smirking. She had a few in the past and who knew what the future held._

"_Yes, that includes fuck buddies," Brittany deadpanned, eyes dropping. She'd never liked to hear about Santana's 'fuck buddies' and so Santana just pulled an apologetic expression and smiled. "Anyway, listen," Brittany started again, poking Santana's nose. "If we're both 28 and completely single__―__with no fuck buddies―" Santana's mouth opened but Brittany sped up her words. "Or any other type of attachment including feelings or sex―" Santana's mouth clamped shut and the blonde smirked. "Then we," she gestured between them again. "Will get married."_

"_Does it include sex?" _

_Brittany's face dropped, unamused and Santana just lifted her shoulder, totally amused by herself. She didn't know did she and it was a legitimate question._

"_What?" She squeaked, raising both hands defensively beside her ears. "Sex should include marriage," she explained, dropping her hands. "And as much as I love you, Britt, there's no way in hell I'm staying celibate for the rest of my life."_

_Blue eyes rolled but there was a smile on Brittany's face and Santana grinned in response. She knew by that single expression that she'd totally got what she wanted. _

"_Fine, sex will be included," Brittany agreed and Santana pumped her fist into the air in celebration, earning a light giggle from her best friend. "You are _such _a dork."_

"_I'm gonna get in those panties," Santana sung in reply, still victorious as she reached over to tickle up Brittany's thigh teasingly until a pale hand came down and slapped it away. "Oh, you're into that," she said, purposely mistaking Brittany hitting her for something else. "Kinky," she winked, pulling back her hand and trying not to grin at the laughter filling her ears._

"_Shut up, Santana," Brittany scolded, playfully. "This might not even happen," she said seriously, and Santana decided to completely ignore that._

"_Well, I don't know about you Britt, but I'm gonna try a hell of a lot harder to stay single, now," she teased, throwing in a well aimed wink._

_They both chuckled for a few minutes until tears filled their eyes and their stomach muscles were aching from all the laughter. When it died down they leaned back against the couch, tired by the past minutes and stared at each other, the seriousness of their pact settling in. Santana wasn't entire sure whether to bounce around the living room with excitement or question why the hell she wanted to do that in the first place. Sure, she would be getting married and it would mean she wouldn't have to be known as the crazy lady with twenty-seven lizards, but she'd also totally get to have sex with her smokin' hot best friend with legs and abs to die for._

_Though she was sure that thought would make her freak out a little. People shouldn't want to have sex with their best friend._

"_So," she cleared her throat and sat up straight, deciding to pass by her thoughts as she couldn't think of a good outcome of them. "This is a legitimate pact, yeah?"_

_Brittany nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip and Santana saw the happiness reflected in those blue eyes. Brittany was just as excited about this pact as she was. Awesome. _

"_As serious as a duck."_

_Dark eyebrows pinched together. "Britt, ducks aren't serious."_

"_Exactly."_

_There was no logic but Santana decided to ignore her best friend and stretch out her arm, offering her pinkie to finalize this pact of theirs. "Then secure your side with a pinkie swear and a repetition of the guidelines and we'll be all good."_

_A long, pale finger wound around her own and Santana didn't bother thinking about the tingles Brittany's touch always gave her. She'd thought long and hard about them before and it'd lead her nowhere but frustration. _

"_I swear that if I, Brittany Susan Pierce__―" __Brittany grinned and wiggled her hips. She was excited and it made Santana's stomach flip. "__―__Am still single when I'm 28, with no attachment sexually or emotionally to anyone else, I will marry thee Santana Alma Lopez."_

_Santana grinned, and repeated her side, staring into crystal blue eyes the entire time. As the words left her mouth she couldn't help but think of the future, think of Brittany in a wedding gown and Brittany gazing at her in complete awe as she slid a golden band down the length of her finger in front of all their friends and family. It was comforting and exciting in a way she couldn't really describe, and it made her entire body fill with warmth and love and__―__crap, she really shouldn't have been thinking about that._

_(Still, she did.)_

"_So, we have a deal?"_

_Santana bit down on her lip and didn't hesitate in responding with a smile, "We have a deal."_

/

When she manages to shake herself out the memory, she comes back and her eyes settle on Brittany, who's staring at her with this infuriated blue eyes. She has no idea what happened between zoning out and now, but she supposes it's not good, if the other girl's expression is to go by.

"No, it's not _convenient_," Brittany hisses, eyes narrowing and Santana hears it back, noting how bad it sounds now. "He loves me and wants to marry me."

Still, the anger in Brittany's voice makes Santana's eyebrows lift because she's not used to her best friend talking to her like this. Sure, she's had it like, once before, but that was way back and Santana's not going to discuss that right now. But even thinking about that doesn't make her feel any better because she really was just trying to put an honest point across, yet somehow it came out offensive and fuck, Santana's a dipshit sometimes.

"Britt, I didn't mean it like_―"_

"Don't," the blonde interjects, lifting a hand and abruptly pushing off the sofa to stand. "Just don't, Santana," she finishes, shaking her head and clenching her jaw with one sharp look before she spins around.

And not trusting herself to say anything to help the situation, as she's already managed to fuck up a nice evening by opening her stupid fucking mouth, Santana just watches her best friend walk away into the kitchen.

/

The next morning, Santana wakes up early and decides to go for a run to rid her of this weirdness within her. She doesn't bother with a shower just yet, knowing she'll need one when she gets back and slips into her workout gear, doing a few lunges and stretches to wake up her body before she slips out into the apartment, keeping her head down.

The TV isn't on and the kitchen is still in tact, so she figures Brittany's not awake yet and her shoulders deflate a little. She was hoping to see her best friend before she went out to apologize about last night. This morning she woke up feeling like the biggest dick in the world. The alcohol got to her last night, and she knows that isn't an excuse, but she just came out with something that sounded like Jason proposing to Brittany wasn't legitimate. She said it and now Brittany's pissed and Santana just hates it when Brittany's pissed at her because it basically ruins her day. All she ends up thinking about is how she can apologize, how she can make it up to her best friend, and she_―_no matter how important what she's doing is_―_just loses all focuses and ends up fucking up the task in hand, too.

Though she supposes if Brittany's not up yet, then she's probably still in bed and Santana peers down the hallway to see Brittany's bedroom door still shut, full well knowing that that's a sign for _don't come in. _Plus that douche bag, Jason, is probably still in there and there's no way in hell Santana's going to let him yell at her for saying shit. If Brittany's told him about last night, that is.

So she decides to apologize later and grabs her iPod, headphones and keys before heading off for her morning run.

/

By the time she gets back to her building, it's almost 8am. She ran at least five miles this morning and her body is aching like a bitch. It feels like she did a mini-marathon_―_she supposes she kind of did_―_and like, a million jumping jacks. Maybe a few hundred thousand lunges too and damn, what she wouldn't do to get into a warm bath and soak up all the bubbles.

And she supposes she can. Her shift at the bar isn't until tonight and she's only got to do a few errands, most of which she can actually do from the comfort of her own apartment_―_

A groan escapes her lips as she thinks about what those errands are. The back of her head hits the elevator walland eyes close at the thought because all those 'bits and bobs' are to do with the wedding. She may not have written out a full list of what she has to do yet, but she knows the basics and might as well start writing up that list today as she'll have to do it at some point. Last night she did think about it, made a mental note of what she had to do through each section of months and she guesses that's kind of good enough, but wedding's do take a lot of planning and this isn't just _anyone's _wedding. It's Brittany's, and so she decides that starting sooner rather than later would be good.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she waits for the ding of the elevator before stepping out into the hallway and walking towards her apartment. She fumbles with her keys for a good thirty seconds before she finds the right one and unlocks her door, stumbling into the strong smell of burnt bacon that greets her. Her nose crinkles, body recoiling immediately and she rips her key from the lock, kicking the door shut with her foot as she wanders through the apartment, wondering what mess of Brittany's she's going to walk into this time. Although usually Brittany never burns things ― just forgets to add certain ingredients. Like the mince meat to the spaghetti Bolognese, or the dough base to the pizza.

(Santana still doesn't know how Brittany managed to do the last one.)

Still though, as Santana wanders through the apartment, she thinks about how strange this is. Brittany may not be Emeril Lagase, but she knows how to cook breakfast. She's been making Santana the most kickass pancakes, waffles and French toast since they first moved in together. If there's anything Brittany knows how to cook, it's breakfast.

"Britt?" She calls, throwing her keys down on to the kitchen counter as she walks in.

There's no-one in here but she guesses Brittany just popped off to find something or get changed. Brittany's like that and that would be a reasonable explanation as to why there's a burnt _something _in the stove. She flicks it off after approaching it, removing the pan and grimacing and groaning at the black bacon lying in the center of the plan. It's her bacon, but she doesn't mind too much because she's used to Brittany doing this every now and then, still she minds that it's going to be a bitch to get those burnt pieces of bacon stuck to the pan off. Even with a scourer pad, they're going to be fucking _difficult _to remove.

"You're burning the bacon!"

"Shit," a voice behind her says immediately, except it's decidedly not Brittany and Santana turns to find Jason walking in in nothing but boxers. Bile rises in the back of her throat at the same time her eyes roll. Can't the guy put on some damn clothes? "Is it completely burnt?"

Santana steps away from the pan after putting it down, folding her arms over her chest and scoffing loudly. "Looks like it," she says, rather shortly, eyes flicking to the hallway where he just appeared from. Usually Brittany pads in like, a few seconds afterward but _nada._ "Where's Britt?"

Jason eyes her for a few seconds but shrugs and walks toward the pan, picking it up and taking it to the garbage, instantly dumping the contents in. A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifts and Santana tilts her head angrily as she watches _her _bacon disappear inside the trash can. Before she was totally fine with Brittany eating it, but now it's Jason... Well, that's a whole other ball game.

And okay, maybe that's a little small and pathetic, but it's big enough that she can get pissed about it. This isn't the first time Jason's done that and really, it's beginning to fuck her off.

"Still in bed," he grumbles, scratching idly at his scalp. "You got anything else to eat?"

She lifts her brow further and watches Jason pad over to the fridge and throw it open, peering inside it whilst the hand not keeping the door open reaches down from his head to inside his boxers to arrange himself.

"Probably not," she replies, a little distant, scrunching her face in disgust. They both have the same bits and never once has she felt the need to check everything's still there. Men are just pigs. "But you know, you could always go home and have breakfast there," she suggests with a slight bite.

And Jason notices it, bringing his head back out the fridge to peer at her with narrowed eyes. "Who pissed in your corn flakes this morning?" He says, almost snarling at her and she rolls her eyes, knowing that getting into a fight with Brittany's boyfr―_no_―_fiancée_ after pissing Brittany off probably isn't best.

So she just rolls her eyes for the second time and mutters, "Fucking asshole," beneath her breath as she wanders back to her bedroom to shower.

She honestly doesn't know why the hell Brittany's with that guy.

/

Fifteen minutes later and she's out the shower, changed into track pants and a tank top and heading back to the kitchen for food, clutching on to the hope that maybe Jason discovered her blatant dislike for him (one that's recently soared) and has left the apartment.

Unfortunately, though, when she gets back to the kitchen, she's welcomed with the sight of Jason picking his nose as he sits at the kitchen counter, bent over a newspaper with a cup of steaming coffee beside it. It makes her stomach gurgle and she sort of wants to hurl, but knows that's inappropriate and instead heads for the cabinet above the stove, not focusing on it as she grabs a box of cereal.

She pours herself some and otherwise ignores Jason as she grabs the milk out the fridge and pours some in the bowl, sorting through one of the drawers for a spoon.

Though, as she turns around, bowl in hand, she knows that the kitchen counter is usually where she eats her breakfast and yeah, sure, Jason's there but she shouldn't change her routine for him, right? On the other hand, though, she really has no interest of being anywhere near the man, so the sofa's good.

Although that does lead to the thought that if Brittany is to wake up, and walk into the kitchen to find Jason at the table and Santana in the living room, she'd obviously see that there's a little tension between the two and it might upset her. And Santana really doesn't want that to happen, especially not now she has to apologize about last night, too.

Letting out a long sigh, she walks towards the kitchen counter and slides on to one of the stools to eat her breakfast, shifting as far away from Jason as possible without falling off the stool.

She just wants him to go home.

/

She's three mouthfuls in when Jason begins talking to her, and there's nothing that could've prepared her for what he was going to say.

"So, you and Britt, huh?"

Santana stills, spoon containing cereal and milk hovering in mid-air. Her eyes dart to him. "Excuse me?"

Jason sniffs loudly and leans back, wetting his lips. He looks serious and Santana feels a little uneasy with the way he's staring at her. "You and Britt," he parrots and she bites back a scathing remark about how she's not deaf, she heard that the first time but was questioning the statement itself. "You two dated, right?"

Okay, she wasn't exactly expecting that.

She pulls her head back herself, dropping her spoon to the bowl gently and tilts her head. This is something she and Jason have never discussed, and not because he doesn't know because she knows he does for sure; but it's dangerous territory. This could be a trick question, a method of Jason's to get some information out of Santana that he doesn't know yet and she narrows her eyes at him as she tries to figure out his reason behind asking this. Is he trying to start an argument? Since clearly this morning she wasn't taking his bait? Or is this one of those genuine questions where Brittany may have mentioned something, or made a comment, and now Jason wants to know more but doesn't know how to approach Brittany so he's approached Santana instead?

Sighing loudly, she figures that she'll never know until she asks; but she doesn't want to seem to interested in case Jason's clever enough (she doubts it) to realize that she doesn't want to talk about her and Brittany without Brittany present, and resumes eating her cereal again, breaking their eye contact and dropping it to the newspaper spread out across the counter in front of her bowl.

"Why are you even talking about this?" She asks, nonchalantly. Or what she hopes to be nonchalantly.

"No reason," Jason fires back immediately, settling down comfortably on the stool and flexing his arm muscles as he leans both forearms on to the counter, resting forward a little. "Now that she's going to be _my _girl forever, I wouldn't want any past feelings to suddenly pop up and... interfere."

It's said with a hiss and Santana snaps her head up, pausing mid-chew to look up at the guy, taking in his expression. The corners of his lips are curved up, almost in a smirk, and his eyes are narrowing like he's almost challenging her to bite back with something; yet she knows better than that. Though as she stares at him, further trying to figure out what the hell's going on, a certain thought seeps into her mind and she hates herself instantly for it. First of all she bitches out at Brittany last night, telling her how convenient Jason proposing is and questioning the legitimacy of it, and now she's considering that Jason proposing was purely him marking his _territory._

God. Santana's _such _a bitch. Jason loves Brittany. _That's _why he proposed.

...Right?

"We didn't date, exactly," she replies, lowering her spoon again and crossing her arms. Saying this stings but she hopes it doesn't show. She doesn't even know why the hell it stings. It's just the truth. "We just got close," she explains, shrugging a little. "Very quickly."

Jason narrows his eyes further, leaning further on to the counter top and closer to Santana. It's unsettling and Santana wants to lean back, to just get up and say how pointless this is but it feels like he's asking her something. Digging for information and she doesn't want him to go back to Brittany and say that Santana refused to answer his questions, making him suspicious. That would only cause more crap for Santana and Brittany and really, she's just not down with that.

"How quickly?"

Santana runs her tongue along her teeth as she stares at him. There's really no need for him to be asking this, because as much as she kind of maybe dislikes the idea of Brittany getting married to this guy, the undeniable fact is that Brittany _is _marrying this guy, that this guy _is _going to have Brittany for the rest of his life and that things are never going to be the same again.

And she really does go to say that. It's right there, balancing on the tip of her tongue, but she finds a whole other batch of words pouring out before the intended ones can. "Why don't you just ask Brittany if you're that curious?"

Jason's eyes flick to her, the corners of them crinkling as he glares. "It doesn't seem appropriate," he tells her, lifting a shoulder like that should be obvious.

"What? And asking me _is?_" She spits back, crooking an eyebrow at him because she knows she's totally got this one in the bag.

And she knows he knows it to because his face contorts with anger, his eyes narrowing into an intense glare and mouth popping open to respond but at that moment, footsteps echo through the apartment and seconds later, Brittany's standing in the archway to the kitchen in small shorts and an even smaller shirt that rides up to show half of her midriff. And instantly, Santana's mouth goes dry but she forces herself to look away, knowing that whilst yeah, Brittany's so obviously smoking hot that a blind person would be able to sense it, she just _can't _look at her like that.

They're just friends.

They agreed on just being friends back when... well, just back when, and the last thing 'just friends' do is get all hot, bothered and well, honestly, _stiff _over each other.

(And she may have done in the past over Brittany.

Sure, it wasn't okay back then but it was better than now.

Like, for fuck sake, Brittany's fiancée is like, _right _there.

If Santana got a boner that'd just be... She just can't get one, okay?)

So instead of focusing on anything tall, blonde and incredibly sexy, she looks back down to her bowl of cereal and stares at it intently until she no longer has to pinch her thighs together. Then she glances up, and by the time she does, she realizes how much she wishes she hadn't because Brittany's cupping Jason's jaw, twisting his head and kissing him lightly on the lips, smiling against his mouth as his big, clumsy hands grab messily at her hips, pulling her forward to deepen the kiss.

And it's not like Santana's jealous or anything.

It's just that she doesn't really feel like seeing anyone kiss in the morning; especially not some jackass like Jason over there with someone as perfect as Brittany on the receiving end. Like, shit, seeing Puckerman kiss someone would probably be more appealing than seeing that and that's definitely saying something.

She drops her eyesight again to her bowl and finishes up the last few mouthfuls, pointedly ignoring the couple whispering cute shit to each other across the kitchen island and putting all her thought into not feeling that weird curdling tingle in her stomach.

That'll only bring up things she forced back, locked away in a box in the back of her chest.

And she just won't do that.

/

Jason leaves a few hours later, and by this time, Santana's in her bedroom, on the middle of her bed with papers lying out beside her and her laptop open in front of her.

The only reason she knows that douche is gone is because ten minutes ago, she moved all her crap into her bedroom because Jason decided to jiggle around on the sofa and turn up the volume of whatever stupid fucking sport he was watching so loud, she couldn't even hear herself think. Brittany was back in her bedroom on the phone to Quinn, too busy discussing whatever the hell they talk about, and so instead of trying to ask Jason kindly and giving him the satisfaction of rejecting her and pissing her off even more, she just picked up her stuff and moved. Only moments later Jason's voice boomed through the apartment yelling for Brittany and Brittany ran to him like she was an obedient puppy.

(Santana will never understand that.)

It went quiet and Santana took her headphones out long enough to hear Brittany's heavenly giggle and a small _"__Jason, stop it! Santana's right in there!" _which made her stomach turn and head pound, and she knew they were saying goodbye because Brittany followed it with a small "I love you" that made its way through Santana's chest, curled around her lungs and squeezed until she choked forward, almost head butting her laptop.

So, anyway, that happened and now she's in her bedroom, looking over all these papers and trying to ignore the fact that she _still _hasn't talked to Brittany since last, _still _hasn't apologized and _still _feels shitty about it. But apart from that, she's managed to recite and write down her mental list of what needed to be done for this wedding and so far she's split it into a nine sections, all outlining the months and what she needs to do within those time periods.

She's going off the time span of what most wedding's take to plan and that's around nine to twelve months. Knowing Brittany, and knowing her own schedule and thoughts in her mind that she refuses to go into, she's leaning more toward a year than anything less. That's a good amount of time to sort everything out, book the right venue, find the right dress and get everyone's wedding invites out in time.

Santana's got this. She's been training for something like this for a while now and this is just practice. Pretty big for practice, but practice none-the-less.

She's halfway through determining a set budget and how expenses will be shared when there's a knock on her door. Setting down the papers in hand, she nudges her glasses up her nose―she needs them for reading, okay?―and looks up just in time to see Brittany lean against the door, rub a hand over her elbow and shift awkwardly in her spot, blue eyes flickering around the room and purposely looking at everything that isn't Santana.

And it hurts to see her like this, but they've had little arguments in the past and this is just like those, so they'll be able to get over it. This isn't even really an argument, just Santana being an ass. It's _always _Santana being an ass.

So she clears her throat and sits up a little straighter, beckoning Brittany in with one hand whilst the other tugs at the chords of her headphones to pull them from her ears.

"Hey," she says, softly.

"Hi," the other girl whispers, walking into the room and taking a seat to Santana's right.

It's quiet for a moment, Santana looking down at the papers and Brittany chewing on her lip, but then Santana figures she should probably speak and apologize because this whole weirdness was created because of what she said. And sure, talking to Jason earlier didn't exactly change her mind about the whole convenience thing, but she doesn't need to tell Brittany that. Her thoughts are stupid and just that, _thoughts. _Silly ideas that she's conjured up for some odd reasons that she will never really know of.

Okay. She's getting a bit off track here.

Right, the apology.

"I'm sorry."

Blue eyes dart up and meet brown. "What?"

Santana licks her lips and swallows, creating a pause. "I said, I'm sorry," she repeats, a little lower this time. She's not one for apologizing and she thinks by the look on Brittany's face, the blonde knows that.

"For what?"

That didn't make it any easier. "For saying... what I did... You know, yesterday," she continues, lifting a shoulder and biting her lip. "I shouldn't have. I didn't know what I was talking about."

Brittany reaches across the space between them to grab her hand, their skin sliding against each other. "It's fine, San. I knew what you meant, anyway," she tells her and dark eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"I thought that..." Brittany trails off, her brows scrunching together in the middle of her head, eyes lost in thought. "That did run through my mind when he asked," she shrugs, peering back into brown eyes. "Just because it's been so soon since we had that conversation and I just..." Brittany pauses and takes in a deep breath, poking her tongue out to wet pink lips as she shuffles further on to the bed, eyes focused on not crushing any of the papers covering the bed. "You don't think―I mean, you don't think he would?" Her eyes flicker up again. "Do you?"

And Santana pauses.

She knows that Brittany's asking her to tell the truth her. She knows that this would be an opportune moment to tell Brittany the hesitations she's having due to what Jason said earlier, but then again why should she say it? There's no reason why Santana having second thoughts about Jason should even be considered in this because whatever happens, Santana's opinion is going to be biased considering what's happened between them in the past.

But then again, why would Brittany ask her that unless Brittany _wanted _to know Santana's opinion?

It's a challenge, and Santana can see it in blue eyes because she's _always_ been able to see _everything. _Somewhere deep inside of her, she knows that this is the part where she's _supposed_ to tell Brittany that Jason was all suspicious and inquisitive about her and Santana's past. This is the part where she's _supposed _to tell Brittany how much of a jackass Jason is and that she doesn't actually have any evidence, bar this morning's conversation and her own suspicions, but she's sure that there's more behind Jason's proposal than he's making out, but she can't say it.

She's ready to. She's preparing the words in her mind, but as she goes to say them, she can't bring herself to do it.

Because this isn't just a stupid little thing that she can ruin. She's done that before, back in high school when she ruined Quinn's relationship with Sam because she didn't like it, and she doesn't want to do it again. Splitting two people up just because of her concerns is pure selfishness, and she loves Brittany. She's her best friend and she can't just say all of this and upset Brittany further because this is a serious matter. This is the rest of Brittany's life that Santana would be commenting on, and shit, she doesn't even know that if she did answer honestly and spill everything, that Brittany wouldn't just get pissed again, they'd fall out and Santana would have to hear about the special day through a blunt text in months to come.

Brittany and Jason aren't just a short thing where they've known each other for a few months and are tying the knot; they've been together for going on three years and are finally concreting their relationship by getting married. And that leads her to the conclusion that maybe Jason didn't mean anything by their conversation earlier. It could've just been bad timing, or Santana getting suspicious because she always thinks people have a motive behind their actions and words. It could all just be convenient, and there's really no point in saying anything and running the risk of screwing it up for Jason and Brittany's relationship, or Brittany and Santana's friendship just because Santana has her own personal insecurities about the guy.

She doesn't know anything. Not about herself, about how she feels, or Jason, or Jason and Brittany together, and so she knows she shouldn't say anything.

Which is why she takes a deep breath and then answers, "No, Britt. I don't think he would."

Something heavy weighs down on her chest as the words leave her mouth, and there's still that little thing in the back of her mind clucking its tongue. Stupid fucking conscience.

The atmosphere shifts immediately, from awkward and tense to bright and happy (on Brittany's side) and the blonde's face lights up, her body bouncing slightly as she hears the confirmation of happiness from someone else. Her hand clutches a little tighter to Santana's, and Santana tries not to focus on the way her stomach turns as a strum of guilt pangs through her.

"You think he really wants to marry me?"

The corners of Santana's lips curve up and she nods slowly, the smile faltering a little as a thickness coats her throat. "Yeah. He wants to marry you," she nods again and swallows, struggling against the weight of her words as they press down on her windpipe.

And honestly, when Brittany begins bouncing excitedly, her face glowing with excitement and happiness, Santana figures that she said the right thing because Brittany's happy.

That's all that matters.

/

**This chapter is unbeta'd by my beta and by myself so my bad for any spelling errors, grammatical errors or just errors in general.**


	3. Notice

Hey guys.

I'm really sorry to disappoint you with a notification of a new chapter when it isn't, but I just thought I should let you know that I'm not going to be continuing this fic for a while. The majority of the reviews have been positive, but there's that few just that really got on my nerves as they already jump to conclusions about this when it's the **first **chapter.

I'm not naive or stupid, and think that I won't get bad reviews for my fics, but to be honest, I don't want to write a multi-chap if people are going to criticize my writing and jump to conclusions without knowing what's going on at the very start. I accept that there are some similarities between _If It Hurts This Much _and this fic, but they're NOT the same at all and if those few people who gave bad reviews had kindly waited instead of criticizing me immediately, then you all would've seen that.

Also, I've just finished two other multi-chap fics and so I'm a little exhausted now, and I shouldn't feel like writing is a task instead of something I enjoy; but it does and so I've decided to take a little break from such a big project like this again.

Thank you for all my loyal followers, though, and I hope that I will get back to this fic at some point.

- JSBG

(**P.S.** I know I'm being a douche, so apologies for that.)


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