Title: The Sweetest Gift
Author: crammit
Fandom: Glee
Rating: M
Pairing: Brittany/Santana - super minor mention of Faberry (As my other OTP, I reserve the right to make them live happily ever after in my stories.)
Timeline: AU - Part of The Sweetest Condition Universe
Summary: A Christmas Eve interlude between Brittany and Santana - Rated M for lady sexy times

A/N: Glee and its characters do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them. But I promise to put them right back where I found them.
A/N: I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, favorite, follow, and/or comment on these Sweetest Stories. It really means a lot and it's very much appreciated.


"You know you're the one getting this all together tomorrow, right? If I have to wrap this monstrosity, you have to put it together."

Looking over, I can't help but laugh at the sight of you, one knee on the floor to brace yourself as you attempt to tape wrapping paper around the dollhouse your father had made for Ava. "Santana, there's nothing really to put together. The house is all together already."

Your grin makes my present wrapping come to a halt as you reach around the back of our Christmas tree and slide a large box in my direction. Whistling, you go back to wrapping the dollhouse, indicating with a head nod that I should look in the box.

Curious, I pull the box over and lift the flaps, tipping the inside towards the Christmas lights so I could see better. "Uh, San…"

"Yup."

"But…"

"I know."

Reaching into the box, I pull out a clear bag containing what looks like a 20 piece miniature dining room set and look up at you, "I might have to kill your dad."

You abandon the dollhouse for now and make your way over to me, crouching down and reaching in to pull out each plastic bag until a total of 15 bags are sitting on the floor, packing peanuts still clinging to most of them. There are a few moments of silence as we look over the bags, each one filled with miniature replicas of household furniture, decorations and people. Laughing, you grab one of the bags and drop it in my lap as you come to sit behind me, wrapping your arms around my stomach as you stretch your legs out alongside mine, "You can't kill my dad, Britt. Not when he made sure to include a tiny Unicorn and little Cheerios."

Smiling, I rest some of my weight against you, picking the bag up so I can see the little figurines better. I press my finger lightly against the plastic and touch the Unicorn horn, turning my head towards you as you press a kiss behind my ear, "Okay, I can't. But I'm totally making him help me put all of that in there. She's got enough here for a village, not just one dollhouse. I think I saw landscaping stuff in one of those bags."

You kiss the smile from my cheek and reach down to take the bag from my hands, sliding it across the floor to join the others by our feet. Resting your weight back on your other hand, you curl your arm around my ribcage and pull me to lean back into you, your bare feet knocking playfully against the outside of my calves. I run my hands lightly across your dark green flannel pajama bottoms, sighing happily as you rest your cheek against my temple, both of us quiet as we relax next to the glow of the Christmas tree.

Looking around our living room, I feel your steady breathing subtly match my own and I slide my cheek against you in a soft caress. Despite the detritus of gift wrapping strewn across the floor and couch, the presents sitting under the tree look as pretty as any picture and I feel a warmth settle in my chest at the thought of Ava waking tomorrow morning to see the gifts that 'Santa' brought her. I'd wrapped your gifts yesterday afternoon when you had taken Ava with you over to Quinn and Rachel's so you could drop off our presents for Aiden. I still need to figure out a way to sneak them out to put under the tree so you won't have any time to pick them up and shake them to figure out what they are, a childhood habit you've yet to break.

I crane my neck back to check the time on the wall clock and groan a little bit as I realize it's already past midnight and we still have a good hour left of wrapping to do. "Santana, can't we just leave the rest of them unwrapped and tell Ava that Santa had like, a reindeer emergency and had to leave them like this?"

You press a kiss against the collar of my long sleeved t-shirt and shake your head, "No, baby. She already knows that the gifts are wrapped at the elf workshop at the North Pole. Remember she put in her letter to Santa a request to tell the elves to use only Monster High wrapping paper?"

"Don't remind me," Kicking out futilely at a half-used roll of wrapping paper, I feel myself pout as the smiling face of Frankie Stein mocks me from just out of my reach. "It took me 5 trips to different stores just to buy enough so we could wrap all her gifts."

"She isn't really old enough to watch Monster High anyway. But one look at Aiden's Holt Hyde doll and that was it. I blame Puck for getting it for Aiden so I say we blame Puck for the wrapping paper scavenger hunt."

Nodding my head, I turn in your arms and lean my weight on my hand next to yours, running my other hand across the arm still around my waist before letting my fingers brush through the ends of your messy ponytail. "Yes. I like that idea. Too bad Puck isn't here to finish the wrapping. I'm so tired, San."

"I know, Britt. But we just have a few more and then we can totally crash. At least for a few hours until Ava wakes up. And then I promise you coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."

I lean heavily against you and push lightly on your shoulder to get you to rest back on the floor, settling myself against your side, closing my eyes immediately as I sink into the warmth of your body under your hooded sweatshirt. "Mmhm…let's take a nap first."

"Britt…"

"Sleeeeeeepy."

I feel your laugh rumble under my ear before your arms tighten against me as you roll me over and hover above me, reaching down at my grunt of pain to remove the tape dispenser from under my back, placing a quick kiss against my lips in apology. "I have a better idea."

"Better than sleep? Because you were super comfy."

Smirking, you drop down slowly against my body, my hands sneaking under the back of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You brush your lips back and forth across mine, settling your hips tight between my legs. "So much better than sleep."

Your first kisses are soft and slow and I settle into the comfort of kissing you, while the holiday smells of pine and cinnamon slowly give way to the smell of your skin and fabric softener from your sweatshirt. Your tongue makes lazy passes against mine and I keep my fingertips moving softly against your spine as the taste of you burns the fatigue from my body. Sucking on your tongue, I drop my hands low against the curve of your ass, sliding just inside the waistband of your pajama bottoms as I slowly rock your body against me. I arch my back and feel your heartbeat racing against my chest and I pull back from the kiss, trailing wet lips over your chin to press against the base of your throat, panting lightly as my arousal increases.

Resting your weight on one hand, you gently bury your fingers into my hair and hold me tighter against your neck in a silent request to keep kissing you there, your hips making maddeningly slow circles between my legs. "Still sleepy?"

"No," Swallowing, I extend my hands further and pull down the pajama bottoms down over the swell of your ass, squeezing with the rhythm you've created. "You always have the best ideas, San."

Your laugh is a bit breathless as you turn your head and claim my lips in another kiss, this one slightly rougher as your hips increase their pressure, the heat of your body causing my own pajama bottoms to start to stick to my skin. The hand in my hair pulls away and suddenly the cooler air of the living room is brushing across my body as your hand slides under my shirt, moving over my stomach to palm at my breast. Leaving one of my hands holding tight to your hip, I bring the other up under your sweatshirt in an attempt to pull the sweatshirt over your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you break the kiss and shift to straddle my thigh, reaching back to grab my hand and bring it under the front of your sweatshirt instead, "We can't, in case Ava wakes up."

Flicking your nipple with my thumb, I grin at you, your moan prompting me to repeat the action. "Or in case Santa shows up early."

"Let's hope not."

You chase my laugh with your tongue, lifting up slightly as you drag your hand under the waistband of my underwear, your fingertips soaked at first touch. Spreading my legs a little wider, I roll my hips into the pressure, groaning loudly when I realize that your center is pressing against the back of your own hand. Licking my lips, I pull back to look up at you, my hands squeezing hard against your breast, "It's so hot when you do that."

"What about this?"

My foot connects with the box that was holding the plastic bags and I hear you laugh as it tips over, the packing peanuts spewing across the floor. Tugging lightly against your nipple, your laugh ends on a moan and I smirk against your skin as I lean up to kiss the side of your jaw, "You're cleaning that up."

"Me? You knocked it over."

"You made me do it when you…" Choking on a breath, I grit my teeth when you repeat the motion and I murmur out the rest of the sentence, "Did that."

"You like it," You whisper against my mouth, my stomach clenching as you curl your fingers again, my eyes drifting closed in pleasure. "Tell me you like it."

My eyelids feel weighted and all I can do is nod my head as you start to thrust slow and deep inside me, the sweat on my legs mixing with my own wetness as the heat builds between our bodies. Reaching my other hand up to brush the hair back from my sweaty forehead, I stretch my arm over my head to press my palm against the back of the couch, gaining leverage as I rock my hips into each thrust. My clothes feel sticky against my skin and I can feel a drop of sweat fall from your neck onto mine as you lean down to lick against the side of my throat. There's a small part of me that wants to stop and take this up to our bedroom so we can get these clothes off but the bigger part of me is turned on by the heat and sweat as you touch me.

As if sensing my thoughts, you drop your head to my shoulder and wipe the sweat from your cheek against the fabric covering my shoulder, your palm sweaty as it presses against my forearm above my head. Your panting breaths brush across my cheeks and I open my eyes to find you smiling down at me, the softness of the gesture in contrast to the speed of your thrusts which have picked up pace, your palm rubbing against me on every pass. "Next time I stop you from taking my clothes off, ignore me."

Planting my feet a little firmer against the floor, I can feel my pleasure starting to tingle in ever increasing pulses, your fingers drawing my orgasm from me with expert precision. I answer your request with moans and heavy breaths, the smile falling from your face as you edge me ever closer to my final breaking point. Your mouth parts in sympathy as my heart pounds in my chest, forcing my breath to come faster and faster in the final seconds before my stomach clenches and my body arches away from the floor. Reaching up, I cup the back of your head and watch as your eyes race over my face, my body trembling in extended pleasure as you slowly bring your fingers to rest inside me, clenching your jaw as I continue to flutter around you.

I drop my head back against the floor and exhale a long breath, my fingers tightening against your neck as you slip from inside me, wiping your fingers against the outside of my pajama bottoms. Looking up at you, I jokingly frown and bring both hands down to rest on the top of your shoulders, "Santana, you can't just wipe your fingers on me."

"Why not? These clothes are already ruined for the night."

Grinning, I work my hands between our bodies so I can once again slide them inside your waistband, my fingers spread wide against the damp skin of your hips, "Oh yeah? Are you sweaty?"

Rolling your eyes playfully, you place your hands above my shoulders and lean up above me, your mouth twisted in a half smile, "Of course, I'm sweaty, Britt. I'm wearing this stupid sweatshi…"

"Are you wet?"

Your voice trails off on a low moan as I use my hands to move your hips in a slow circle against my thigh, the muscles tensing as you rock down lightly against the pressure. Repeating the motion, it's my turn to moan as you press down harder, your hips tipping forward to make me aware of just how wet you actually are.

Humming into the feeling, I start to slide my right hand towards your inner thigh, intent on feeling for myself but I'm stopped by you shaking your head, "No. Like this."

Reestablishing my grip on your waist, I brace my foot against the floor and lift my thigh higher, letting you use me for your pleasure as I look down and watch your body move. The glow of the lights from our Christmas tree is sharpened against the sheen of sweat on your skin and my fingers tighten against your hips, my need to flip you over and lick the sweat from your body almost overwhelming me. I can feel the heat and wetness between your legs where the fabric of both our pajama bottoms have bunched up and I feel your legs tremble as you brush against a particularly sensitive spot. Sliding my hands along your back, I run my nails over the sensitive skin there and am rewarded for my efforts by your mouth dropping down to ravage my own. Your kisses get more sloppy and uncoordinated the faster and harder you move against me, until you're forced to just press your open mouth against the side of my neck. Your hands dig into my shoulders a second before you cry out, burying your face against my shoulder to muffle the sound, your body shivering and jerking in quick little motions. I relax my leg and let your body shift and settle more comfortably against me, hugging you close to me despite the almost urgent need to take my clothes off and release some of the heat.

As I feel your breathing start to return to normal, I turn my head and look at the box I kicked over, a small brown object catching my attention amongst the orange mess that spilled out before. "Hey! There was another package in there. It looks like it was mixed in with the packing peanuts."

You turn your head and rest against my chest, your voice lazy and sated as you cuddle against me, "What is it?"

"I don't know. It's small though," Reaching my arm out, I laugh as you protest the movement, my efforts almost dislodging you from my embrace. "I almost have it….ah, here it is." Shaking a packing peanut free, I bring the small box closer to us so you can see it. I hear your small gasp and I turn back to look at you, watching your face as you reach over to grab it from my hand, rolling off to the side to sit Indian-style on the floor. Sitting up with you, I rest a hand against your forearm, the trembling causing me to duck my head to try and catch your eye. "Honey?"

Your eyes are locked on the box in your hand, your thumbs brushing over the handwriting that appears to be scrawled across the top. Looking down, I try to make out what it says but before I can turn my head to try and read it, I feel a drop of water hit my hand and I look up to see tears falling from your eyes. Alarmed, I cup your face and brush at your tears with my thumbs, your cheeks warm in my palms as your gaze finally breaks from the box to meet my own. "San, what is it? What's wrong?"

Holding the box up, you turn it so that I can see the words, your voice choked with emotion as you read them for me, "It's for Ava. From my grandmother." Holding tight to the box in one hand, you crawl over and settle into my lap, a mirror image of our position from earlier. Bracing my back against the couch, I cuddle you closer, kissing the top of your head as your tears wet my long sleeved shirt.

Keeping my lips pressed against your hair, I rub circles against your back, as my other hand rests against yours, both of our fingers resting on top of your grandmother's handwriting. "Do you think your parents knew it was in there when they sent the boxes?"

Sniffling, you shake your head and exhale a shaky breath, "No, otherwise they would have said something. She must have snuck it in there before they packed it up."

"What are you going to do?"

I loosen my hold as you shift against me, sitting up so you can face me, "We'll let Ava open the gift tomorrow and then when my parents get here, we'll call my grandmother and go from there, I guess."

Standing up, I pull you to your feet, your grandmother's present cradled like a precious thing in your hand. "Why do you think she's reaching out, after all this time, after all the times we tried to reach out to her?"

I watch as you shrug, walking around the mess in the living room to place the small box at the very top of the pile of Ava's presents. I follow you over there, standing behind you and wrapping my arms around your waist to pull you back into my body, kissing your cheek as you cover my hands with your own. "I don't know, Britt. I don't even know if we should ask her. Maybe we just start by thanking her for the gift tomorrow and go from there."

A few moments of silence pass as we both stand in front of the Christmas tree, you lost in your thoughts and me content just to hold you. Finally, you turn around and lean up to press a gentle kiss to my lips. Holding lightly to your cheeks, I keep the pressure a few seconds longer and then drop my hands to hold yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before inclining my head to the mess on the floor, "Baby, we really need to finish wrapping everything."

You groan dramatically and shuffle forward to bury your face against my chest, my ears barely able to make out your muffled, "I don't want to."

Hugging you once, I step back and keeping a hold of your hand, pull you out of the living room and down the hallway towards our bedroom. "I know, San. But we need to. First though, we really need to take a shower. And possibly burn these clothes."

That gets a laugh from you and you bump your hip against mine as you step past me and walk into our bathroom to start the shower, "Yeah, you're right. Shower first, and then finish wrapping, and then sleep."

Yawning, I lean against the doorjamb while you adjust the temperature of the shower, "And set out half a glass of milk and a plate of cookies with little bites in them. We need to make sure we leave those out so Ava knows Santa was here."

"Yes, because the 600 presents under the tree wouldn't tip her off first," Your smile is hidden as you drag your sweatshirt over your body and drop it to the floor behind you, where your pajama bottoms already sit.

"Still…"

"You just want to eat cookies, Britt," I laugh at your smirk and allow you to pull the shirt from my body to join the pile of clothes on the floor. "But, if it makes you feel better, I can eat some with you."

Bending down, I remove my pajama bottoms and step out of them as I join you under the warm spray of the shower, "Such a hardship for you, I know."

"Hardship is going to be trying to wake up tomorrow after only getting probably two hours of sleep."

Pulling you against me, I drop my head back and pout, "Ugh. Don't remind me."

"But," You press a kiss to each of my collar bones and wrap your arms around my lower back, inclining your head as a prompt for me to speak.

"But?"

"But tomorrow is Christmas…"

"Today."

"What?"

"It's the middle of the night. Technically, it is Christmas."

"Fine. Today is Christmas and…" Leaning forward I kiss you, just because I can, and laugh when you when you reach up to poke my shoulder. "Stop interrupting me."

Nodding solemnly, I mime zipping my lips and smile as you continue, "Today is Christmas and our family will be here, and then tomorrow we see Quinn and Rachel and Aiden, and…and my grandmother sent Ava a gift. So yes, we are going to be freaking exhausted tomorrow but I don't care because I'm happy. I'm happy and I love you and I love Ava and we're totally putting all those bags back in that big box and wrapping it all at once, by the way. So Merry Christmas. You won't have to kill my father."

At that, I laugh and place a kiss to each corner of your lips before taking your mouth in the sweetest kiss I can think to give you. "Merry Christmas, San."