So I hear some of you wanted an update... :p

Before I apologise profusely/explain the wait, I would like to mention one or two things, and I'd appreciate it if you took the time to read this AN :)

Firstly, Paperweight is not, and never will be abandoned. I fully intend to see this fic through to the very end (I have a mushy, fluffy, smutty epilogue planned :D), and if, for some reason, I did unfortunately have to stop writing, I would let all of you know via here, Twitter and Tumblr.

Second of all, if you have questions about PW/my fic/anything really, I much prefer you going to my ask fm account (there's a link in my bio) rather than asking me anonymously on Tumblr. If you ask me OFF anon, I'll happily answer, if you're anon, it's unlikely I'll reply. No offence or anything, just a personal preference, and slight paranoia my rl friends will find my Tumblr and therefore my fic.

Right, onto the grovelling. I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken, but as it's Summer (like, actual Summer! We got sun! Do you know how rare that is for Scotland? :D) here, all of my rl friends are home from uni, so I've been busy with them a lot, plus I've been away a bit, aaand I have a job, all of which cuts into my writing time. Throw in a bit of writer's block for certain parts of this chapter, and that all makes for a very long wait.

I'm going on holiday with my family on September 10th so I will tryyyy and get another chapter out before then, but please don't hold me to that lol.

Thank you for all your sweet reviews, PMs asking if I'm still alive etc, and I hope this chapter has been worth the wait :)


It's a wonderful feeling, one that Santana rarely gets to experience, waking up to silence. Well, New York's loud version of silence.

99 per cent of the time, Quinn wakes up before her, and seems to think breakfast is synonymous with time to wake Santana up in the most annoyingly loud way possible. Whether it's by having the radio blaring the latest obscure indie band she's obsessed with, singing in the shower, or banging around loudly in the kitchen, Santana usually wakes up to some form of racket echoing around the apartment.

And if it's not any of those, it's usually Rachel, and sometimes Kurt, using her apartment for a two-person Glee Club reunion. There is a time and a place for Cell Block Tango, and that time is never before noon and that place is never Santana's apartment.

So for the next few seconds, Santana just relishes the silence and snuggles further into the bed, before she realizes exactly whose bed she's in, and the entire previous night comes crashing back to her.

Her heartbeat picks up, and a massive smile breaks out involuntarily on her face. She hopes Brittany isn't like, watching her sleep or something, cause she's probably going to look insane suddenly grinning like a madwoman in her sleep.

She brings her hand up to rub at her eyes as she sleepily blinks them open, rolling over to look for Brittany when it registers in her half-functioning brain that she doesn't feel the blonde's warmth wrapped around her.

The dorky smile drops off her face to be replaced by a frown when she realizes she's alone. There's a brief moment where she thinks karma's come around to bite her in her perfectly toned ass and that Brittany's left, but that thought is immediately shut down by two things. First of all, she's in Brittany's apartment. It's not like the blonde can do a runner from her own home. Secondly, now that Santana's more awake, she can hear faint music and singing coming from the other side of the closed door, indicating that she's not alone in the apartment.

If Brittany's making breakfast for her she may just propose marriage on the spot.

She rolls over again to lie on her back, stretching out her limbs and yawning, rubbing the rest of the sleep out of her eyes. Sunlight is just starting to filter in through the curtains, and a glance over at Brittany's Adventure Time clock tells her it's just after 9am.

She lies there for a few more minutes, an idiotic smile on her face as she replays the entirety of last night in her mind. The whole room, and the sheets she's wrapped in both smell of Brittany and of sex. Adding in that Brittany's bed is really fucking comfy, Santana wouldn't mind staying right here the rest of the weekend.

Especially if Brittany were to join her. Naked.

Untangling herself from the sheets, Santana swings her legs over the side of the bed, deciding to actually get up and go find Brittany. The cool air hits Santana's still-warm bare skin, and she shivers, walking over to Brittany's dresser and opening the top drawer, looking for some clothes to throw on.

After pulling some too-big red sweatpants and a white tank top on, Santana pushes open the bedroom door, immediately finding the source of the music she heard earlier as the radio playing quietly, while Brittany's standing at the kitchen counter, humming and wiggling her hips to the song playing.

Santana's mouth goes dry when she notices Brittany isn't wearing pants, just a long tshirt that barely covers her ass, and she folds her arms, leaning against the doorway as she drags her gaze up Brittany's legs, a flush shooting through her body when she remembers having those same legs wrapped around her the previous night.

She watches Brittany take a gulp out of her mug of what Santana assumes is coffee, judging by the aroma around the apartment, and stretch up to open a cupboard above her, the tshirt riding up and revealing the red underwear she's wearing.

She has a passing thought about what it would be like to wake up to this everyday, to the smell of coffee, the radio quietly playing some, probably British, indie band she's unlikely to have ever heard of, to Brittany. Either Brittany dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, or Brittany still asleep and cuddled up to Santana like a puppy dog, Santana's not really picky about the where of Brittany, just as long as she's there.

It's a very… domestic thought, and it doesn't scare Santana as much as she thought it would.

Deciding she's creepily stared at Brittany long enough, Santana pushes off the doorframe, and is intending on walking straight to the kitchen to kiss Brittany good morning, when something on the floor by the sofa catches her eye.

She bends down and picks up the DVD case from last night, holding in a laugh when she sees the name of the movie, and the picture of a blood-covered chainsaw on the front of it.

"Raw Fear?" Santana questions, raising an eyebrow at the cheesy name and holding up the case when Brittany spins round. "Well now I see why you didn't tell me the name."

"There's a sequel," Brittany replies with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a suggestive smirk. Her face lights up and a massive grin spreads across her face as she turns fully around, and Santana can't help but smile back, the reverent way the blonde is looking at her hitting her right in the heart.

"I could be persuaded to watch it," Santana laughs, dropping the case back onto the sofa and walking towards the kitchen.

She would happily watch – or not watch – the sequel, followed by any other horror movie Brittany wants as long as they all end up the way last night did.

Brittany smiles at her like she knows exactly what Santana's thinking, putting the whisk she's holding down and wrapping her arms around Santana's waist when she gets close enough. Santana leans up and presses a quick kiss to Brittany's lips, and is about to peek over her shoulder to see what Brittany's doing, when a hand cups her cheek, pulling her back into another slow kiss that ends with the blonde softly sucking at her bottom lip.

"Mmm, good morning," Santana mumbles when Brittany lets her go after a few minutes.

"Hi," Brittany smiles back, leaning against the counter and her eyes dropping to where the tank top is stretched tightly over Santana's boobs. "I like you wearing my clothes."

She bites her bottom lip as her gaze rakes shamelessly over Santana's body, and Santana swallows a moan at the heated look. She has no problems with spending the entire day having sex with Brittany, but she is kind of hungry, and with coffee being the most important meal of the day, she needs her caffeine fix first of all.

Santana loops her arms around Brittany's neck, leaning forward and pressing her body against the blonde's, giving her another kiss before disentangling herself and stepping away.

Brittany pouts at her, and she laughs, turning around and walking to the cupboard where the mugs are, picking up a blue one with a picture of a sheep on it and then making her way to the coffee machine.

"So what was so important that you had to get up early and leave me alone in your bed?" Santana asks, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine before turning back around to face Brittany, leaning back against the counter.

Brittany's eyes rake over her body again, causing Santana to shiver, before Brittany smiles sheepishly at being caught leering, and gestures a glass bowl sitting on the kitchen counter. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed, but you've kinda ruined that now."

"Sorry?" Santana fires what she hopes is her most charming smile at the blonde. The coffee machine beeps behind her, and she reaches round to pick up the mug, taking a sip of the hot liquid and pushing off the counter to walk back over to Brittany.

"You should be," Brittany shakes her head in mock disappointment. So, so cute. "Ruining my surprise, what kind of person are you?"

"One that made you scream pretty loud last night," Santana shoots back with a smirk, smiling wider and laughing when Brittany flushes, and shoves at her shoulder lightly.

"Shut up," she mumbles, ducking her head to try and hide her blush and turning back around to face the counter.

Placing her mug down, Santana slides her arms around Brittany's middle and cuddles into her from behind, rising up on her tiptoes and resting her head on her shoulder. Peering down, she's met with the sight of apparently the entire contents of a baking shop spread over the kitchen counter. There's also two boxes, one of strawberries and one of blueberries sitting off to the side, as well as an obscenely large tub of Nutella.

She watches Brittany adding what looks like beaten eggs to a bowl full of flour, before pouring in an entire bag of chocolate chips and some sugar. Healthy. Apparently Brittany's serving a heart attack for breakfast.

"What are you making?" Santana asks, slowly sliding her hands under Brittany's top to press her palms against the warm skin of her stomach. She smirks when she feels the muscles twitch slightly, and hears Brittany's breath hitch lightly. She has her coffee, the food can totally wait.

"I'm making waffles," Brittany replies, twisting her head to press a kiss to Santana's cheek. "Now please get off me, you're distracting me."


Brittany nudges at her with a spoon when she doesn't move, and Santana reluctantly lets go of her, stealing a strawberry and hoisting herself onto a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. She munches on the fruit and sips on her coffee, watching Brittany make breakfast.

She's too busy caught up in dreamily staring at Brittany and drowning in how right and domestic this morning feels, that Brittany has to repeat her name three times before Santana finally blinks out of her trance and says, "Sorry, what?"

Brittany laughs, walking over to the breakfast bar and sitting on the stool opposite her, placing down two plates. "I said, what are you thinking about? You had this really dopey smile on your face. Cute, but dopey. I was beginning to get worried."

"Just," Santana pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase the way she feels. "I'm just, really happy Britt."

Brittany smiles, blushing slightly, and extends her hand across the bar and links their fingers together, rubbing her thumb gently against the back of Santana's hand. "Yeah, so am I."


An hour later, after Santana has inhaled firsts and seconds of Brittany's amazing waffles topped with strawberries, Nutella and whipped cream, she helps Brittany clean up the dishes before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

When Santana exits the bathroom, Brittany's back is to her while she looks for something in the depths of the refrigerator. The song playing on the radio has changed again, to some acoustic song Santana recognizes but can't remember the name of, and Brittany's humming along to it, swaying her hips slightly, even though the song is like the furthest thing from a dance-y song you can get.

"I've been this way with so many before but this feels like the first time," Brittany starts singing along to the song a few lines in, and Santana leans against the counter, smiling stupidly at the blonde.

Santana eventually identifies the song as one from that movie Kurt dragged her to see, with Amanda whatsherface and Channing Tatum's abs, but instantly decides she prefers Brittany's version of it. She's heard Brittany sing before, but with this song being slower, her voice is quieter and sweeter, and Santana could happily listen to it forever.

"You want the sunrise to go back to bed," Brittany stands up and spins around, nudging the refrigerator closed with her hips, and her face lights up when notices Santana smiling at her.

"I wanna make you laaaugh," Brittany dramatically sings, carrying out the last note and placing the smoothie bottle she's taken out of the fridge on the counter, extending her arms and beckoning Santana to come and join her.

"Mess up my bed, with me," Brittany sings, wiggling her eyebrows. "Kick off the covers, I'm waiting."

The choice of whether or not Santana's going to join in is kind of taken away from her when Brittany dramatically and meaningfully gestures in her direction, followed by the pout thrown her way when Santana misses the start of the next line.

Really, turning breakfast into a musical experience, this is the kind of shit she used to make fun of Rachel and Kurt for doing, especially after one particularly loud duet of As Long As You're Mine from Wicked at some ungodly hour a few weeks ago.

But it's basically near impossible to resist Brittany's pouting, so Santana sighs, crossing the kitchen and taking Brittany's hands, letting herself be pulled into the blonde's warm embrace, before starting to sing along with the second verse.

"Happy to lay here, just happy to be here, I'm happy to know you." Thankfully Santana can remember the words, since the smile that lights up Brittany's face is pretty damn gorgeous.

"Play me a song, your newest one, please leave your taste on my tongue. Paperweight on my back, cover me like a blanket."

Santana disentangles her hands from Brittany's, instead looping her arms around her shoulders and pulling Brittany's body closer to her own, the blonde's hands wrapping around her waist.

"Mess up my bed, with me. Kick off the covers, I'm waiting. Every word you say, I think I should write down. I don't wanna forget come daylight."

Brittany starts swaying them, then starts leading Santana in small circles around the kitchen, and Santana shuts up, letting Brittany sing the next part of the song and getting lost in her sweet voice softly singing along.

"And no need to worry, that's wasting time. And no need to wonder, what's been on my mind," Brittany presses on her back, pulling Santana closer until they're completely pressed together. Santana rests her chin on the blonde's shoulder, a shiver going down her spine when Brittany's lips brush against her ear before she continues with the song.

"It's you, it's you, it's you," Brittany hums quietly into her ear, kissing her softly just below her ear after. Santana's breath catches in her throat, and she hugs Brittany tighter, trying to get as close as possible as the song plays on in the background.

The song fades out, being replaced by another slow acoustic song; one that Santana doesn't recognize this time. She pulls back from Brittany, just enough so that she can look up at her pretty face.

"Well, that was sweet," Brittany says, breaking the silence with the understatement of the decade.

"You're sweet," Santana replies softly, patting herself on the back for the smile she gets in reward for that cheesy smooth line.

"I'm sweet on you," Brittany chuckles, smiling down at her.

"You're crazy," Santana laughs, unwrapping her hands from around Brittany's neck to cup her face, pulling her closer to kiss her.

"Mmm," Brittany mumbles into the kiss, smiling against Santana's lips. "Crazy about you," she counters, swallowing Santana's laugh when she presses their lips together again.

Santana sighs into the kiss, running her hands up Brittany's back and tangling them in her hair, letting herself be walked backward when Brittany presses harder against her until her back hits the counter.

The kiss sparks hotter in a matter of seconds when Brittany's tongue pushes past her lips, languidly stroking against her own. Brittany's hands slide lower and lower, before pushing past the band of the sweatpants and stroking over the bare skin of her ass, and what's crazy is how fast Brittany can make her switch from wanting to just kiss Brittany to wanting to kiss Brittany everywhere.

She has no idea how Brittany does it, the simplest touch causing her head to spin, her heart to pound harder and her arousal to rocket upwards.

"I love kissing you," Brittany mutters into the kiss, her hands squeezing at Santana's ass before tracing up her sides, across her shoulders and cupping Santana's face.

Santana nearly has a heart attack at the word love, but manages to keep herself somewhat composed.

She opens her eyes to meet Brittany's dark blue ones boring into her own, and her heart starts pounding, warmth flooding through her body and making her forget everything except the way Brittany's body fits so perfectly against her own.

Santana finds it so much easier to express her feelings through physical touch than through words, so instead of saying anything in reply, and risking saying the wrong thing, or messing something up, she just kisses her again, losing herself in Brittany's lips and tongue and taste.


"Fuck," Santana whines, her head falling back against the back of the couch with a thud, her fingers tightening in blonde hair as Brittany's tongue circles her clit far too fucking slowly for Santana's liking. – sdf

"You taste so good," Brittany mumbles, moaning quietly, and the vibrations shoot straight through Santana.

"Ugh, Brittany," she moans, and she would be slightly embarrassed about how desperate she already is, but it's been like twenty fucking minutes since Brittany shoved her down onto the couch, dropped to her knees, yanked Santana's thighs over her shoulders and went to town, so Santana feels like she's in danger of literally exploding soon.

Like seriously, teasing is hot as hell, but to a fucking extent, Jesus.

Plus Santana's lost count of what round of hot, sweaty sex this is – Brittany pinning her against the counter earlier led to fucking on the kitchen floor, and when Brittany complained about her back being sore due to the tiles, they just moved to the couch, then Brittany's bed, then the shower when Santana suggested a clean-up, and then back to the couch – so she's really fucking sensitive right now and Brittany fucking knows it.

She can feel Brittany smirk against her, moving off her clit to slide her tongue up and down through her soaked center, and she glances down, the sight of Brittany's head bobbing between her legs sending another flash of heat through her body.

Brittany looks up and meets her gaze, the heated dark blue eyes coupled with the sight of her wetness smeared all over Brittany's lips and chin making her stomach clench hard.

Santana starts to moans Brittany's name again, but only gets one syllable in before she gets cut off, throwing her head back with a loud moan of relief when Brittany finally slides her tongue in, her mind going blank and her hips jerking up against the blonde's face.

She's embarrassingly close already, the twenty minutes of too much teasing and not enough pleasing having taken its toll, and Santana spreads her legs wider, one leg falling off Brittany's shoulder. Brittany's hand trails from its position on Santana's waist to the inside of her thigh, scratching up it gently, and Santana is about to huff in protest when Brittany's tongue vanishes, but a strangled moan escapes instead when two fingers slide inside her.

"Fuck- oh God Britt," she gasps, her hips rocking up shamelessly as she tugs lightly on Brittany's hair, pushing her face closer. Lips wrap around her clit, sucking hard, and Santana can feel herself getting closer.

Brittany curls her fingers at the same time she starts flicking at her clit with her tongue, and it doesn't take long before she's coming hard against Brittany's mouth with a loud moan, pleasure surging through her entire body.

Fingers keep slowly sliding in and out of her, bringing her down until it gets too much and Santana weakly bats at Brittany's shoulders, pushing her away gently. Brittany places a final kiss onto her clit, pulls back, removes her fingers, and glances up at Santana with a smirk before sucking her own fingers into her mouth. Dear God Brittany is going to kill her.

"Jesus Christ," she breathes out unsteadily, smiling dopily down at Brittany as the blondes starts peppering kisses along the inside of her thighs. "You are so amazing."

Brittany shrugs nonchalantly, smiling up at Santana as she clambers into her lap. "I know," she says with a grin, smiling wider as she wraps her arms around Santana's shoulders, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

"So modest, too," Santana teases, her own hands sliding round to clasp at the small of Brittany's back. "Not that I really blame you, of course," she adds, smiling into the kiss that Brittany presses against her lips.

Brittany kisses her harder in response, parting her lips with her tongue, and Santana groans when she tastes herself. The blonde's tongue brushes gently against her own, and Brittany whimpers into her mouth when Santana sucks on her tongue, her hands drifting down Brittany's back to squeeze at her ass.

Santana would be more than happy to listen to the devil on her shoulder that sounds exactly like her own voice whispering more sex more sex more sex, but Brittany's kisses are slowing down, her lips brushing against Santana's and her hands gently cupping the back of Santana's neck, thumbs tracing patterns into the skin. She leans back, quickly breaking the kiss to yawn, and Santana can't help but laugh at the embarrassed look on Brittany's flushed face.


"Well somebody has kind of worn me out," Brittany replies, squirming when Santana attacks the top of her chest with kisses, running the tips of her fingers up and down her sides lightly.

Ooh, so Brittany's ticklish. Santana files that away for use at a later date.

Plus, Brittany kind of has a point, considering it's nearly 3pm and they've spent the last few hours having a lot of sex, only taking a break to have lunch. Santana has a shitload of stamina, but she isn't invincible.

Leaning back against the couch, Santana presses on Brittany's back until she's pitching forward, her hands reaching out to grab the back of the sofa at either side of Santana's head. Smiling softly down at her, Brittany drops her head to kiss Santana lazily, tongue brushing tenderly across her lower lip.

Santana's hands squeeze at Brittany's hips when her tongue pushes past her lips and against her own, and Brittany whimpers quietly into her mouth. They should probably stop now, since kissing while Brittany's in her lap is highly likely to lead to them getting all fired up again, which in turn will lead to yet another round of, admittedly mind-blowing sex, but Brittany's breaking the kiss to yawn again, so she's obviously pretty tired. Plus, Santana's not going to pass up a chance for cuddling.

"Nap?" She suggests, moving her hands up Brittany's back and away from the tempting curve of her ass.

"Can I use you as a pillow?" Brittany asks brightly, blue eyes looking down at her affectionately.

Santana smiles like an idiot. Score. "I'd be honoured."

Santana shuffles round, and flops back so she's lying lengthways across the couch, and Brittany settles down next to her, resting her head on her chest and wrapping an arm across her waist. Santana slides an arm around Brittany's shoulders, sighing in contentment when she feels Brittany gently nuzzle at her neck before pressing a quick kiss there, before snuggling back against her.

"When Quinn's not home we should totally christen every room in your apartment." Brittany's sleepy voice comes out slightly muffled where she's cuddled against Santana's chest, but her words are still audible and Santana giggles, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Definitely," she mumbles in reply, kissing the top of Brittany's head and hugging her tighter, before pressing her cheek against soft blonde hair, and drifting off into a peaceful sleep to the sound of Brittany's breathing.


Santana has no idea what time she wakes up, but she knows she's being dragged back into consciousness by lips pressing to her neck and Brittany softly mumbling her name against her skin.

"Santanaaaa," she hears, Brittany dragging out the last syllable of her name as she dusts kisses up towards her ear. "Wake up sweetheart."

She's considering feigning sleep just so Brittany keeps doing this, but that idea is shot when Brittany speaks again. "I know you're awake."

Santana blinks her eyes open, her heart skipping a beat at the dreamy way Brittany's looking down at her. "How did you know?"

"Your breathing changed. Plus you started smiling."

"I could have been having a really good dream, you never know," Santana shoots back, lifting a hand to push her hair out of her face, and when she focuses properly on the blonde on top of her, she realizes they're both still completely naked after Brittany sex-ambushed her earlier.

Brittany's knees are either side of her hips and Brittany's boobs are teasingly brushing against her own as the blonde hovers over her, and heat floods through her body.

Not wasting any time, she cups the back of Brittany's neck and pulls her down into a kiss, sucking at her bottom lip until Brittany opens her mouth wider, kissing her languidly. Santana's hands slowly start moving down Brittany's back, and start curving round to the front of Brittany's body, but before they can reach their intended destination, the blonde breaks the kiss and sits up.

There's a slight flush painted over her chest, her blonde hair is slightly messy from Santana's hands in it earlier and from their little nap, and she's looking down at Santana with her sparkling blue eyes. Add in the fact that she's still totally naked, her boobs and abs and everything else completely on show in the late afternoon light coming through the windows, it all makes for a pretty impressive sight that takes Santana's breath away.

"You're so gorgeous," she breathes out without thinking, her hands resting on the top of Brittany's thighs and her thumbs rubbing gently at them.

Brittany ducks her head, smiling bashfully. "You're not too bad yourself," she replies with a wink, before swinging her leg over Santana's body onto the floor and standing up.

She extends a hand down, and Santana grabs hold, letting herself be pulled up. Brittany then leads them towards the bedroom, and a gleeful smile lights up Santana's face. Their impromptu nap has totally replenished her energy, so she's perfectly happy spending the rest of the day fucking into next week.

"Again? Jesus woman, you have got a one track mind," she says, slightly distracted by the view of Brittany's bare ass in front of her.

"Get your mind out the gutter Santana, we're going out, so we need to get dressed."

Well. Talk about putting a dampener on her sex drive.

"Wait, we are?"

"Yep," Brittany says, letting go of Santana's hand when they get into her bedroom, heading over towards the drawers. Santana flops onto Brittany's bed, making sure everything is on display to try and tempt Brittany away from putting clothes back on.

"Why?" Santana looks on in horror as Brittany puts some underwear on before flinging open her closet door.

"Because we have literally spent the entire day having sex and napping," Brittany says, her back to Santana as she rifles through her closet.

"I'm really not seeing a bad side to that," Santana replies from where she's sprawled out on Brittany's bed, feeling very conflicted as she leers at Brittany's body, cause her boobs look amazing in the bra she's just put on, but all the skin is being covered up as Brittany is getting less naked.

"Fresh air is healthy Santana," Brittany says like an overbearing mother. She spins around from the closet and throws a top towards Santana. "That should fit you. I think your jeans are still clean, but I'm not sure where I threw them last night," she adds on with a chuckle.

Santana huffs, watching Brittany pull on some jeans and socks, and then a top with a picture of a moustache on it. She eventually pulls herself off the bed with a dramatic sigh; putting on the panties Brittany gave her, before wandering back through to the living room to pick up her jeans and her bra.

Brittany does kind of have a point, they've been holed up together with no intrusions since the previous evening, and much as Santana would like to, it's not like they can get used to it, considering Sam is due home at some point later on that night.

On the other hand, with them both having blissfully oblivious roommates, it's not like they'll have a lot of opportunities to spend half the day banging each other's brains out and the other half eating and sleeping. Brittany comes out of her room, looking immaculate for someone who'd been asleep less than thirty minutes ago and handing the top she'd picked out earlier to Santana, telling her to hurry up, and Santana voices her thoughts.

"You know, you have an empty apartment, we should totally appreciate it while we can," Brittany raises her eyebrow. "I'm just saying."

"So you're just in this for the sex?" Brittany asks, quirking an eyebrow. "You don't actually like my company, just spending time with me?"


"Wait, no, no no no, I didn't mean that all babe," Santana quickly backpedals, shaking her head with widened eyes, then stopping when she sees the way Brittany's fighting a grin. "Oh. You're kidding."

"Yes, I'm kidding. Now come on. I discovered this really nice coffee shop a few blocks from here the other day."

The mention of coffee shop, and therefore food gets Santana's attention, since she's kinda hungry, so she quickly pulls the top over her head, smirking at the way Brittany's eyes zoom in on her chest where the fabric pulls tightly against her boobs, and dashes back into Brittany's zoom, dragging a brush through her hair and fluffing it up. Not that it does much good, she probably still looks like a troll in comparison to Brittany, but oh well.

Ignoring the way Brittany taps at her wrist, even though she's never seen the blonde wear a watch, Santana puts her shoes, and pulls her jacket on, then pauses their way out of the apartment to kiss Brittany, just because she looks adorable in the light grey bobble hat perched on top of her head.

She's considering just kissing Brittany hard and long enough to completely derail the plans of going out, and hopefully have the blonde drag her back to bed and have her way with her, but unfortunately Brittany breaks the kiss, smirking at Santana like she knows exactly what her plans were.

Brittany grabs at Santana's hand, linking their fingers together, and Santana huffs as she's dragged out of the apartment.


"I don't know about this Britt," Santana says apprehensively.

"You can do it babe," Brittany says from behind her, placing her hands on Santana's shoulders and nudging her forward. "Step outside your comfort zone."

"Starbucks and I are in a pretty committed relationship. I'm not sure I can go into a different coffee shop in good conscience."

Brittany snorts, and just links their arms together, walking forward and forcing Santana to move her feet, unless she wants to faceplant into the steps leading up to the door. Which she doesn't really.

Brittany pushes the door to Tinderbox Coffee open and pulls Santana in after her, the warm smell of coffee hitting them instantly.

Looking around, Santana notes it's much smaller than her usual Starbucks, and a lot quieter, although that's probably due to the lack of annoying teenage girls flirting with the baristas and ordering low fat Frappucinos, which, in Santana's opinion, is the only negative Starbucks has.

"So, Miss Lopez, what are you having?" Brittany asks as they walk up to the counter. The barista is nowhere to be seen, and there's no queue, so they can probably take their time ordering.

Santana opens her mouth to rattle off her usual Starbucks order, before realizing they're not actually in Starbucks, and looks up at the menu printed along the back wall. Her mouth stays hanging open attractively as she takes in the amount of drinks the place offers. It's like double the amount of Starbucks' and about half the price. Maybe she could be swayed to switch teams.

"Um. What would you recommend?" She's slightly overwhelmed by the choice.

"My favourite is the peppermint hot chocolate, but I think you'd like…" Brittany trails off, thoughtfully looking at the menu. The barista appears in front of them, smiling and saying hello as he adjusts his apron.

"Hello ladies. What can I get you?"

"Could I please have a medium peppermint hot chocolate and a medium white chocolate mocha?" Brittany orders, and the barista picks up two mugs, handing them to his co-worker and passing on the order, before putting the drinks through the till and looking back up at Brittany.

"Anything else?" Brittany shakes her head. "$5.30 please."

Brittany hands him the money and tells him to keep the change, before dropping her hand back to her side and brushing her fingers over the back of Santana's hand. Santana takes the hint and tangles their fingers together, allowing Brittany to drag her over to some comfy looking chairs in the very corner of the coffee shop.

The barista brings their drinks over, and Santana raises her eyebrow at the mountain of marshmallows on top of Brittany's drink. "Well now I understand why you like this place."

"Marshmallows are delicious. Anyway, try your drink, I want to know if you like it."

Santana picks up her mug and takes a sip, then attempts to hold in the porn star moan that threatens to come out, because holy shit this is one of the best drinks she's ever tasted.

"Oh my God this is delicious!" She announces, taking another gulp and immediately regretting it when she burns her tongue slightly.

"I told you so," Brittany replies with a triumphant smirk, lifting up her own drink to take a sip. "Better than Starbucks?"

"Whoa, whoa," Santana shoots back immediately, holding her hands up. "Let's not be hasty here. This is great, but Starbucks is pretty tough competition."

Brittany just laughs, smiling dopily at Santana. She takes another sip of her drink, before placing it down and resting her arms on the table, leaning forward slightly and fixing Santana with a look.

"So, I have something to ask you," she starts, pausing to starting playing with the hem of her sleeve. Santana steals one of the marshmallows bobbing about in Brittany's drink, settling back in the seat – Jesus Christ the seats are comfy, she notes, wondering if she could smuggle one back to her own apartment – and smiles at Brittany, indicating for her to continue.

"I was talking to Artie the other day, and he was asking about you." Santana takes a second to try and figure out who the hell Artie is, before remembering him as Brittany's friend from California.

"About me?"

"Just you know, how we are and stuff, and well, he asked me like, what exactly we are…" Santana nearly chokes on the marshmallow, but manages to keep a straight face, swallowing and picking her mug back up.

"And what did you tell him?" Santana has a good idea of where this conversation is going, and she's trying to hide the elated grin threatening to break out over her face. Brittany's obviously incredibly nervous, and it's seriously one of the cutest things she's ever seen.

"See that's the thing, I didn't know what to tell him, so he told me to woman up and ask you."

"Ask me what?" Santana says, her smile getting slightly wider at how adorably flustered Brittany is.

"I want us to be together, San. Like, together together. I want you to be my girlfriend," Brittany says after a pause, still nervously playing with her sleeve as she stares at Santana

"I'm not hearing a question in there, Britt," Santana teases, laughing when Brittany audibly exhales with a huff.

"Shut up," Brittany mumbles, folding her arms across her chest and trying to hide the grin pulling at the sides of her lips by pouting instead.

"I want you to be my girlfriend too, babe," Santana confirms, not even bothering to try and put up a fight to that pout.

"So… We're together?" Brittany asks, the most adorable hopeful look on her face.

"Yes," Santana laughs. "We're together."

"You're my girlfriend," Brittany states, and Santana is mildly concerned about the blonde breaking her jaw if she smiles any wider.

Brittany beams at her, and it's contagious, causing Santana to smile like a madwoman back at her. Confusion takes over when Brittany suddenly shoots out of her seat, rounding the table and nudging at Santana's shoulder until she shuffles over and Brittany can squeeze in next to her.

"Babe this seat isn't big enough-" She gets cut off as Brittany cups her cheeks and lunges in to press their lips together, tongue immediately sliding into her mouth for a kiss that's slightly inappropriate for a coffee shop, but there's only about five other customers in apart from them, and they're relatively hidden by the bar with the napkins and sugar and stuff, so Santana happily returns the kiss, sliding one arm around her girlfriend's shoulders to pull her closer.

Her girlfriend.

She's kissing her girlfriend for the first time.



Brittany thankfully stops kissing her after a few more deep kisses that Santana practically feels in her fucking toes – she says thankfully because if Brittany were to continue kissing her like that, her limited self control would have snapped and she'd have probably done something that would lead to them both getting arrested – and returns to her side of the table, still sporting a humungous grin.

They just sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes; enjoying their drinks and watching New York pass them by out the window on the other side of the room. Santana glances down when feels something on her hands where they're clasped around her mug, and sees Brittany's hand trying to hold onto her own.

With a smile, she lets go of her mug with her right hand and links her fingers with the ones on Brittany's left, shifting her gaze from the window to the blonde opposite her. Concern immediately hits her when she sees the way Brittany's eyebrows are worriedly pulled together as she stares into her hot chocolate.

"You okay?" Santana asks, ducking her head to try and make eye contact.

"Uh, there's something else I want to tell you," Brittany says, squeezing Santana's fingers as if to reassure her. "You probably won't like it, but the key to any relationship is honesty, so…"

Santana's heart skips a beat at the word relationship – she has a girlfriend! – and then she feels mildly worried about what Brittany has to tell her.

"This morning, when I woke up," Brittany starts, lifting her head and glancing around the coffee shop before settling her gaze on Santana. "I didn't know if you'd still be there or not."

Santana's breath hitches, and she gulps. Her elated mood has suddenly come to a screeching halt t Brittany's quiet words.

"I'm sorry, I must sound like a total bitch. There was just this tiny piece of me that was scared you'd get scared and run."

At hearing the blonde apologize, as if it's her fault, Santana shakes her head and finally remembers how to talk like a normal human being.

"No, you don't have to apologize Britt," she reassures, reaching across the table to grab Brittany's other hand. "I-" She pauses to swallow. "I can't promise I won't get scared. This is the first real relationship I've been in, but I don't want to fuck anything up. I care about you so much, the thought of losing you now, just…"

There's a lump in her throat that prevents her from continuing, but the soft smile she gets from Brittany makes her think the blonde knew exactly what she meant.

"Well I don't plan on going anywhere," Brittany says, her gaze dropping to look at where their hands are clasped together on the table, and she manoeuvres her hands until she can gently rub over Santana's knuckles with her thumbs. "But, if you do get scared, please tell me. Just talk to me, and I'll help you as best I can."

"Thank you," Santana says softly, letting go of one of Brittany's hands and picking up her mug, taking a sip of the still warm liquid.

"Well I'm your girlfriend, it's what girlfriends do. They help each other not be scared. They help each other be the best versions of themselves they can be."

It still floors Santana sometimes, that Brittany is with her. That she's the one that Brittany's looking at like she's the best person to have ever existed, that she's the one to make Brittany smile like that, that she's the one to see Brittany at her most vulnerable.

Her feelings for the blonde in front of her start to overwhelm her slightly, and she has to break eye contact for a moment, looking down at her drink rather than the way blue eyes are staring at her, before raising her head and speaking again.

"You're amazing," she says, feeling slightly breathless.

Brittany gives a one shouldered shrug, smirking while she picks up her own mug. "Yeah, I know I am."

Santana really has no idea how she got so lucky.


They walk back to Brittany's apartment slowly, linked hands swinging idly between them, chatting about nothing and everything. Brittany asks if she's staying for dinner, Santana says yes, and after a heated debate about pizza versus Thai food, Santana gives in to Brittany's Super Pout and lets herself be dragged into a pizza takeaway. Santana insists on paying, and wins this debate when she literally barges in front of Brittany to hand the cashier the money.

When they get back to the apartment, Brittany walks in first, placing the pizza boxes down on the side table, and it takes the grand total of two seconds after Santana shuts the front door behind them before Brittany has her pinned against it, and before Santana can register what's going on, Brittany's lips are crashing against her own.

She's slightly shocked by the sudden movement, but when Brittany's tongue slides along her bottom lip her brain and libido kick in and she starts kissing back. She reaches up and tugs Brittany's hat off, throwing it further into the apartment and tangling her fingers through the soft blonde hair, scratching gently at Brittany's scalp and shivering when the blonde moans into her mouth, her entire body pressing forward to push her harder against the door.

"Mmf, what about the pizza?" Santana manages to get out, not really caring about food when Brittany's hands are on her body, but she figures she should ask.

"Fuck the pizza, it can be reheated," Brittany says back, her voice low and rough and it the combination of the curse word and the tone of her voice causes arousal to pulse double time between Santana's /

She's vaguely aware of Brittany removing both their coats, and she has the presence of mind to kick her shoes off, but when Brittany's hands slip under the hem of her top to scratch down her abs, her brain stops working and all thoughts immediately vacate her head.

They stay pressed against the door exchanging increasingly heated kisses for the next few minutes, Brittany's arms sliding tightly around Santana's waist, while Santana loops her own around the blonde's neck. Brittany sucks on her tongue and she moans into the kiss, still incredibly thankful that they have the apartment to themselves.

Brittany's hands drop to Santana's ass, pausing to squeeze enough to make her whimper and rock her hips forward, before her hands slide further down to the back of her upper thighs, urging Santana to wrap first one, then both legs around her waist.

The blonde spins them round and walks them further into the apartment, and Santana tugs on Brittany's hair, pulling her head back to reveal her throat, and she drops her head to start sucking on her pulse point, licking and biting and generally just distracting Brittany as she slowly stumbles towards her bedroom. Her back collides with something hard and solid, and she lets out a quiet oof and detaches from Brittany's throat.

Brittany presses her harder against the wall, grinding her hips forward and lowering her head to press kisses along the top of Santana's chest. Santana's head falls back against the wall, moaning loudly when Brittany's squeezes at her ass and pushes her hips harder, the arousal shooting through her body.

"Britt, bed, now," Santana gasps, her nails digging into Brittany's shoulders when the blonde bites at her throat before sucking gently.

"You don't have anywhere to be anytime soon, do you?" The question is breathed into Santana's ear prior to her earlobe being nibbled, so it's a bit difficult for Santana to focus properly on what Brittany's asking her.

"What? No I don't, why?"

Brittany pulls back abruptly, eyes focusing on the mark Santana is sure is already blooming on her neck before smirking, her dark eyes lifting back up to gaze into Santana's.

"Cause I plan on fucking my girlfriend until she can't feel her legs," she whispers, attacking Santana's lips with her own and swallowing the loud moan Santana lets out at her filthy words.

Brittany hoists her higher on her waist, kissing her harder and squeezing her ass harder, and Santana can only moan helplessly as she's carried inside the bedroom.


Two hours later, Santana stumbles out of the bedroom on very unsteady legs.

Brittany had stayed true to her word, throwing Santana onto the bed and burying her head between her legs, licking and sucking enthusiastically until Santana could barely remember her own name. Santana had then of course returned the favor, the teeth marks in her shoulder and the scratches up and down her back proof of that.

After Brittany had collapsed back against the mattress for the third time, Santana had taken her time slowly kissing her way back up the blonde's body, and by the time she had reached Brittany's face she was met with the sight of barely open blue eyes and a sleepy smile tugging at kiss-swollen pink lips.

Brittany had muttered I need another nap before closing her eyes completely, so Santana had taken the opportunity to heave herself off the bed to go get a glass of water.

She's leaning against the counter, chugging an entire glass of water because Jesus Christ marathon sex with Brittany is exhausting, and then refilling the glass when she remembers exactly why they were having celebratory marathon sex.

She has a girlfriend.

She has a girlfriend and the world hasn't ended.

Brittany's her girlfriend.

She has a beautiful, sweet, perfect girlfriend, and it's not nearly as terrifying a notion as she thought it would be.

She still can't quite believe it.

She has a fucking girlfriend, and she's never been so happy in her entire life.


Later on, after they've both sufficiently gorged themselves on reheated pizza, they're cuddling on the couch watching a movie – Santana's pick of something in Brittany's movie collection she'd never heard of but didn't look like it'd be full of blood and guts and axe murderers this time – when her phone lights up where it's been sitting on the coffee table for the entire day and starts playing The Bitch Is Back.

Santana grunts, heaves herself up until she's sprawled half across Brittany, nearly faceplanting right in her boobs – not that that'd be a bad thing at all – and reaches across to grab her phone.

"Sup Fabgay,"

"Hey, are you okay? You haven't answered any of my calls or texts today, where have you been?"

Santana glances down at Brittany, smiling like a fool when she realises Brittany's blinking sleepily, looking like she's just woken up – explains why she'd been so quiet, clearly not enough murder in this movie for her to stay awake – and chews her bottom lip thoughtfully, debating what to tell Quinn.

"Santana? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, uh, I'm out with Brittany." Santana makes a snap decision; she can't keep lying to Quinn forever.

She can almost hear Quinn raising her eyebrows in surprise, before she squinting in that way she does whenever she's suspicious of something. Usually Santana.

"Brittany as in Brittany Pierce?"

"No, Britney Spears," Santana says sarcastically. "How many other Brittanys do we know?"

"What are you doing with her?" Quinn asks, and Santana rolls her eyes, knowing she'll get the Fabray Inquisition when she eventually gets back home.

"I was out shopping earlier and I ran into her and now we are at Starbucks," Santana lies easily, since as great as Quinn thinking her and Brittany are just friends is, it might be a bit much to say we're having a movie night.

"Okay," Quinn replies slowly, still sounding suspicious. "Are you going to be home for dinner?"

Santana feels a bit ill at the thought of more food. "No, probably not. I'll be home later tonight though."

"Okay, well can you let Brittany know that our meeting with Cassie July has been pushed to 10am, and I'll just meet her there instead of at the studio first?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks. Okay, well I'll see you later. Have fun, tell Brittany I said hello."

"Will do. Bye Quinn."

She hangs up and drops her phone onto the floor, bringing her palms up to press against Brittany's chest, and she rests her chin on them.

"Quinn says hi, and that your meeting with Cassie July is now at 10am, and to just meet her there instead of at the studio."

"Cool," Brittany yawns, but she at least looks slightly more awake than the beginning of the phone call.

"Sorry, my movie choice not gory enough for you?" Santana jokes, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Brittany's throat.

"It was my sister's favourite movie when she was ten, I've seen it like a million times already," Brittany confesses with a smile, before glancing down to where Santana threw her phone. "Is your ringtone for Quinn really The Bitch Is Back?"

"Yes it is," Santana laughs. "She keeps trying to change it, hence the reason I put a lock on my phone."

"Do I have a special ringtone? I mean I think as your girlfriend it's only fair I do."

"Uh, no you don't," Santana leans down and kisses Brittany's pout away. "Not yet at least."

"I think you should make that Paperweight song my ringtone," Brittany suggests, leaning up to return a few kisses to Santana's cheeks and lips. "It can be our song," she mumbles into Santana's mouth, trying to kiss her harder, but Santana pulls away.

"Our song? How very Taylor Swift of you," she teases, fully intending to look up the song when gets home and make it her ringtone for Brittany.

"Do you have a ringtone for me?" Santana asks, smiling widely when Brittany blushes ten shades of red and averts her eyes, suddenly finding the back of the sofa extremely interesting.

"Oh, you do?" Santana continues. "What is it?"

Brittany covers her face with one of her arms, groaning and making a huffing noise. "Have you heard of the band Defeater?"

"Nope," Santana replies, picking her phone back up and scrolling through the contacts until she gets to Brittany's name.

"Um, well it's a song by them called I Don't Mind," Brittany mumbles, as Santana presses call and waits for Brittany's phone to go off.

It takes a few seconds before Brittany's phone lights up, and Santana nearly melts when she hears and registers what the guy is singing.

Cause there ain't nothing like your smile, your legs and those eyes. I will beg and steal and borrow, to keep you safe your whole life. And I don't mind, if we take our time, cause I'm all yours, if you're all mine.

Santana presses end call and dumps her phone back on the floor, looking down at Brittany with a massive grin on her face. Brittany eventually moves her arm off her face, peeking over it. Santana grabs her wrist and moves her arm out the way, her smile growing at the pink tinge remaining on Brittany's cheeks.

"Aww," Santana coos, kissing the tip of Brittany's nose. "Who knew you were such a sentimental, romantic sweetheart?"

"Be quiet," Brittany grumbles.

"You don't have to be embarrassed babe, it's cute."

Brittany looks thoughtful for a second, as if pondering what Santana's just said, before she shrugs her shoulders and nods to herself. "Yeah, I am pretty cute." Santana agrees wholeheartedly. "Now, cuddle time."

Brittany moves her arms to wrap around Santana's waist, hugging them closer together. Her hands slip under the top Santana's wearing and warm palms press against the small of her back, just above the hem of the sweatpants. Santana rests her cheek on Brittany's chest, and cuddles further into her girlfriend, the oversized gray sweater Brittany had put on earlier making for a great pillow.

Santana was never much of a cuddler, the intimacy it comes hand-in-hand with usually freaking her out too much, but Brittany's just so good at it. She's warm, and soft, and she smells good, and Santana's definitely a fan of the way Brittany's arms wrap around her to hold her close.

She's nearly asleep when Brittany jolts underneath her, shoving her to the side and leaping off the couch with a gleeful laugh.

Santana blinks dazedly up at the blonde, waiting until she spins round from the gigantic bookcase next to the television that houses a load of recipe books, an embarrassing amount of comic books, two shelves of DVDs, and a ceramic duck ornament with an entire shelf to itself.

Still half-asleep, Santana focuses on the case Brittany's holding up, only catching the words Texas and massacre before Brittany's bouncing towards the television, changing DVDs and standing up with a smirk.

"Your movie ended, now it's my pick," she says with a smile.

"I thought being my girlfriend meant you were supposed to be nice to me," Santana deadpans, raising her eyebrows at the case of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre when it gets dumped onto the coffee table.

"I am nice to you, that's why I'm going to go out while it's raining and get popcorn, and you can stay here in my nice warm apartment," Brittany goes skipping into her bedroom, coming back out once she's changed her sweatpants for jeans and carrying a pair of boots in her hand.

"Popcorn?" Santana says dumbly, nervously glancing at the screen when the menu pops up.

"Can't have a movie night without popcorn!" Brittany announces cheerfully. She grabs her coat and walks over to the sofa, sitting down next to Santana and putting her boots on.

"Do you like salted or sweet?" Brittany asks, standing back up and tugging her coat on, before leaning down for a kiss.

"Salted," Santana replies once the kiss breaks, and Brittany looks mildly horrified.

"Salted? What's wrong with you?"

"You like sweet popcorn? What's wrong with you?" Santana shoots back.

Brittany ignores her, just kissing her forehead before sweeping out the front door, tossing a back in ten over her shoulder.


Santana hears the front door opening and closing when she's in the bathroom, and rolls her eyes at herself for the butterflies that explode in her stomach, since apparently being away from Brittany for more than ten minutes now means she gets separation anxiety on a stalker level.

No way in hell is she going to be one of those girlfriends.

But she does try and pee a little quicker.

After flushing the toilet and washing her hands, Santana opens the door and walks out into the living room, before she stops dead and her blood runs cold as she registers that the blonde standing in the kitchen is not Brittany.




Oh shit.

Fucking shitting Jesus fucking Christ.


"What are you doing here?" Sam squints at her, his gaze growing even more confused when his eyes drop and he takes in her outfit of underwear and one of Brittany's tshirts. "And why aren't you wearing any pants?"

Santana opens her mouth to attempt to bullshit her way through a lame excuse, but before she can say anything the front door opens, and Brittany comes waltzing in.

"Hey sweetheart, they didn't have any chocolate popcorn, so I just got plain and- Sam?" Brittany pauses, catching sight of him and freezing when she turns around to hang her coat up. Her eyes go wide, and she gulps audibly, her gaze flickering over to Santana.

"Uh, you're home early," she squeaks nervously.

There's a moment of dead silence where nobody says anything, and Santana watches as Sam just looks between the two of them, dread flooding through her body when realization washes over his face.

"Britt," he starts, running a hand through his hair. "Please tell me I'm just being stupid, and this isn't what I think it is."

"Sam, I can explain-"

"Oh my God Brittany," Sam interrupts in disbelief at Brittany basically confirming what he's obviously thinking. "What- You-" He splutters. "How long as this been going on?"

"A few months," Brittany mutters quietly, staring down at her feet.

"Jesus Britt, what the hell were you thinking? What on Earth possessed you to sleep with your boss?"

Santana just stays quiet, frozen where she's standing in the middle of the apartment while Sam and Brittany shout at each other in front of her.

Everything's happening too fast.

She doesn't know what to do.

This was never supposed to happen.

Kurt had been okay with it and Puck had been okay with it, and Santana just hadn't given any thought as to what to do if someone were to not be okay with it.

She's such an idiot. Of course not everyone was going to be okay with the fact that Santana is sleeping with her employee. Kurt and Puck are two of her closest friends, it's like, law for them to be on her side.

She doesn't know what to do. She feels sick.

Brittany's voice breaking slightly catches her attention, and she tunes back into what's happening right in front of her, and notices Brittany getting increasingly upset.

Oh hell no is anyone making her girlfriend cry.

"Sam, just calm down-" She starts weakly, the dread and nausea swirling around in her stomach making her voice waver. She takes a step forward then immediately retreats when Sam whirls round to glare at her.

"No, don't you dare tell me to calm down. What the hell were you thinking, Santana? You're supposed to be our boss, you're supposed to set an example for all of us, and instead you, what? Manipulate your employee into having sex with you?"

"Hey!" Brittany shouts, immediately shutting Sam up and the retort dies in Santana's throat as they both turn to look at the blonde. "She did not manipulate me Sam, she didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to. You can yell at me all you want but don't you dare accuse her of that."

It's completely inappropriate, but Santana can't help but notice how hot angry Brittany is.

"So what, it was you that started it Brittany? What, are you just sleeping with her to try and get ahead of the rest of us, is that it?"

Well that little accusation certainly makes Santana see red.

"Sam!" Santana grinds out through clenched teeth, trying to tame the urge to lunge at him and go all Lima Heights. "If you want to keep all your limbs, I highly suggest you don't speak to my girlfriend like that."

"Wait what? Girlfriend?!" He asks in bewilderment, looking over at Brittany for confirmation.

He looks even more confused when Brittany doesn't deny it, she just shrugs, folding her arms across her chest, and speaks, sounding defeated. "Yeah, girlfriend, Sam. Neither of us expected this to happen, but it did, okay? It's not just sex, Santana and I are together."

Sam pauses, and takes a few deep breaths. "Okay. Just wow, okay. You both have a lot of explaining to do."


"Britt I came home early cause the last guest speaker cancelled and I figured if I got an earlier train back we could still make our Sunday Superhero Movie Night," Santana tries to hide a smile, because so not the time, sucking in her lips and stifling a giggle at the blush that immediately appears on Brittany's face.

Sunday Superhero Movie Night. It's so dorky, and so cute, and so Brittany.

"Instead, I get home to find our boss, half naked except for some of your clothes. I think I deserve an explanation don't you?"

It's Santana's turn to blush furiously, thanking her complexion that it won't be very visible, and mumbles a hurried excuse about getting changed, whirling round and darting into Brittany's room in search of some clothes.


"I'm sorry," Sam says, later on when him and, fully clothed in Brittany's sweatpants and a hoodie, Santana are sitting awkwardly on the sofa together, while Brittany roots around in the refrigerator for some beer. "For shouting at both of you earlier. It just, you know, took me by surprise a bit."

Santana nods in agreement, still too shocked by how quickly everything unfolded to really speak properly.

"I didn't mean to be a dick," he continues, turning slightly until he's facing Santana more. "It's just, you just hear all these stories of bosses manipulating their employees to sleep with them, promising them raises and stuff, or about people sleeping with their bosses to try and climb ladders, I just assumed that's what was going on, and I kinda freaked out."

"Britt's one of my best friends, like usually people think I'm dumb, or an idiot, or a nerd or some combination of the three, but Brittany's one of the only people who's never treated me like that. I know she sees me as a big brother, and I'm just looking out for her."

"I don't think you're an idiot," Santana replies, forcing a smile. "A nerd, yes, but not stupid."

"Thanks," Sam laughs, and thankfully some of the awkward silence dissipates. "Again, I'm sorry for being such a douche and accusing you of all those things."

"Sam I really don't think you're the one that should be apologizing right now," Santana says weakly.

"Yeah you're right," he replies. "Although really, neither should you, I mean you can't help who you fall in love with."

Santana nearly falls off the sofa in shock when she absorbs what Sam's saying. Fuck, is it that obvious?

She nearly falls off the sofa a second time when she realizes that Sam probably isn't talking about her so much as he's talking about Brittany.

This is too much for one day. She's fucking glad Brittany suggested alcohol for this little discussion.

Sam glances behind them to where Brittany's uncapping three bottles of beer, then looks at Santana again.

"Friend to friend here? You guys being together is totally cool with me, I promise. Again, I'm sorry I was such a douche earlier, just gimme a bit of time to, you know, let this sink in. You kinda caught me by surprise."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"Don't hurt her," Sam says abruptly, looking deadly serious. "I'm not gonna threaten to beat you up or something, hitting chicks isn't cool. But if you do anything to hurt her…" He trails off and raises his eyebrows meaningfully.

"I don't plan on it," Santana answers. Brittany's still struggling with uncapping the last bottle, so she swallows and faces Sam again. "I- There aren't enough words to explain how much she means to me Sam. I would never hurt her, I promise."

Sam studies her for a few more seconds, before holding out his fist.

"Are you serious?" Santana deadpans, raising an eyebrow.


Begrudgingly, Santana lifts her own hand and bumps her fist against his. "I'm still your boss you know. I'm Santana to you, not dude."

"Yeah, cause you've be so professional haven't you?" Sam chuckles, immediately stopping when Santana fixes him with a murderous glare.

"I'm kidding," he squeaks, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Santana." He adds on with an idiotic smile.

Brittany appears in front of them, handing them both a bottle, and looks between them suspiciously. "You haven't killed each other."

"Nah, we're good now. Sorry I was a dick earlier, Britt, just caught me by surprise is all."

Brittany nods slowly, looking slightly confused that there isn't more yelling and finger pointing, but sits down on the opposite side of Santana and takes a sip of her drink.

"So," Sam says with a grin, taking a gulp of his beer. "Start from the beginning."


It's not nearly as awkward as Santana thought it would be, spending the next tow hours with Sam and Brittany.

They tell their story together, Santana glaring when Sam makes the occasional pervy comment – "I thought you two looked pretty close when you were dancing at the Halloween party!" – and Brittany reaching across to smack him on the arm when he starts making fun of her – "See, I was totally right about you liking someone!" Brittany groans in embarrassment, and he loudly whispers to Santana, "She spent like an entire week last month playing Taylor Swift songs on repeat. She's got it bad for you, dude."

It also turns out Sam's as big a fan of horror movies as she is, so when Brittany demands they watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre since it's all ready to play on the TV, they spend most of the time ganging up on Brittany and berating her for her terrible taste in movies, while she just eats all the popcorn and says they don't appreciate true horror.

By the time 10pm rolls around, Santana figures she should probably go home before Quinn sends out a search party for her. She says as much when the movie finally ends, walking into Brittany's bedroom and collecting her bag and her clothes from the previous night.

Brittany walks Santana to the door, and she flounders slightly, wondering whether it would be okay or not to kiss Brittany goodbye with Sam still sitting on the sofa – he's not looking at them, but still – when Brittany decides for her, cupping her face with her hands and pulling her forward into a kiss.

"I know it didn't quite end how we wanted it," Brittany says when she breaks the kiss, keeping her voice low so Sam can't hear them. "But this has been one of the best weekends of my life."

"Yeah, me too," Santana says, opening the door and dragging Brittany out into the hallway for a bit more privacy. "Hey, it wasn't all bad. Sam's pretty great. I mean, he clearly has superior taste in movies to you."

"First of all, I am going to convert you into a horror movie fan, just you wait. Second, yeah he's a great guy. I'll make sure he doesn't tell anyone," Brittany says, and Santana's heart sinks, because that sure as hell was not in the forefront of her mind, and she gets a bit angry at herself that that's the first thing Brittany would think of.

God Santana hates the dejected look Brittany gets in her eyes when either of them references them still being a secret.

She wants nothing more than for them to be completely open about their relationship, for her to be able to tell Quinn, her Mom, namedrop Brittany as her girlfriend in any interview she does.

And it absolutely sucks that she can't, because she's falling so hard and so fast for the blonde wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into a slow, sweet kiss. Or maybe she already has fallen. Hell, maybe she'll never stop falling.

"Thank you," Santana says, leaning up to peck Brittany a final time. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow," Brittany parrots, reluctantly letting Santana go and watching as she walks backwards down the hallway just so she can stare at Brittany a bit longer.

Santana only turns around when she's right at the end, pressing the button for the elevator and looking like a lovestruck dumbass when Brittany calls one last word down the hall after her.


Songs used are Paperweight by Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk, and Brittany's ringtone is I Don't Mind by Defeater, which is like the cutest song ever and you should totally all go listen to it right now.

Also please don't leave Sam hate in your reviews, I know S4 turned him into an absolute douchebag, but S2/3 Sam was one of my favourites, and that's what this Sam is based on.

Also, now it's confirmed Seasons of Love is going to be in Cory tribute episode, it's also confirmed I'm going to be sobbing like a baby. RIP Cory.