A/N: Hey! So, I've been wanting to write a Brittana fluff for a while. So... yeah, that's my try. Let me know whatcha think!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first time you see her, you are in a hurry. In fact, you don't actually see her at all until you knock her down.

You actually fall down too. That pisses you. Your cold coffee is on the ground, and it probably has soaked all of that boring paperwork you had to spend all night long working at. And it doesn't help at all the fact that you're late for your meeting and your boss is probably going to be fucking mad at you. Again.

"Watch your fucking step." You growl, not even bothering to look at the girl. Your paperwork is all over the subway station's ground, and it has probably been trampled by a lot of moody and hasty New Yorkers. Just like you. "Shit." You quickly get on your knees and hush to get your shit together, trying not to be trampled by everyone else.

"I'm sorry." The girl says. You don't actually hear her, only when she kneels by your side and starts to help you. "I wasn't looking where I was going." Slender fingers hold onto your wrist, handing you the rest of your paperwork. You look at her. You gasp.

Big blue eyes are staring at you. But not any blue; hers are the brightest and most innocent eyes you've ever seen. Almost as a child's. Her long blonde hair is falling on her face, and she pulls a strand behind her ear. You notice she's pale, a lot paler than you (which, as you think about it later, is not so hard, considering you have a chocolate skin), and she has a few freckles. You probably wouldn't have noticed that, unless, of course, you were staring for too long, as right now.

"N-No, it's okay." You quickly get on your feet, embarrassed with yourself. You offer her a hand, which she quickly takes. "It was my fault. D-did I – uh, did you get hurt?" You look down her bare legs, finding a bruise on her knee. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"You swear a lot." She mumbles, with a half-smile. "No worries about this; I made it myself."

"But-"

"It's okay, really. Sorry about your coffee." She smiles again, turning her back and leaving. You watch, stunned, her go.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

It takes about a week until the next time you see her. This time, she's actually the one who sees you.

You're already on the subway, sitting and waiting for it to move. Nothing unusual, until a blonde girl with a bright smile sits by your side. "Hey you." She greets, adjusting herself on the seat. "So, knocking many people down lately?" You can't help but smile back, a bit too sheepish, you recall. You even blush a little bit. You can't remember the last time you blushed this badly.

"I'm trying not to." You say, looking at your feet. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun this time, and she's wearing a tight tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants. She still looks flawless on it. "I'm sorry about the other day."

"No worries, I told you." She grins. "You should stop saying you're sorry."

"I'll try." You glance at her hand. No ring. "Santana."

"Brittany." She offers you a hand, which you gladly take. "Nice to meet you, Santana."

It's surprisingly easy to talk to her. You find out she is a dancer and that she teaches not far from where you work. You don't have a lot in common; that gets pretty obvious, especially when you start talking about music, but you like her. It's easy to like her. You barely know her, but you're laughing with her as if the two of you had known each other in forever.

"I guess that's my stop." You say, as the subway slowly reduces its velocity. "Will I see you around?"

"If you'd like so." She stares at you, and it makes you blush.

"I would."

You don't say goodbye. You don't want to. You just get down the subway and watch as she slowly fades away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You kind that regret not asking for her phone number, but you figure it's because maybe it's too much for a first date. If you could call sitting on the subway a date.

You two keep meeting every day at the same time on the subway for weeks, and weeks became a month, and now two and then three and now almost four. And you never grew the guts to ask for her number.

You don't see her again for some time, and your morning becomes really boring. You kind that miss her. Okay, you completely miss Brittany. You miss not having her grimacing at your coffee and telling you it's disgusting, you miss sitting alone or with some stinky stranger on the train, you miss the small talks, the smiles, or how her eyes would glow when you brought her something to eat, because she told you she forgets to have breakfast sometimes. You miss every single thing about her, and you're fucking scared that the routine you two had is suddenly gone and you don't get to see Brittany anymore. Fuck, you're scared that she might have hurt herself or maybe she got lost, because you know she's not very good at locating herself either, and hell, you'd give it just another day until you went down the whole city to find out what happened to her. Until…

"Hi, stranger."

You turn around real fast, startled by the sweet voice behind you. You accidentally hit Brittany's face while doing that.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." You lift a hand to cup her face and get a better look at the bruise you've just given her. She's giggling.

"Well, just like the first time we met." She laughs, placing her cool hands on yours. You gulp. "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm getting used to it."

"Fuck, Brittany. It looks – "

"I know, looks bad, but it's 'cause my skin is too pale. I'm fine, San. Really. Calm down." You forget how to breathe for a moment. San. It just sounds so natural coming from her lips. "Still got a potty mouth."

"Sorry." She rolls her eyes playfully. Her hands are still covering yours. You're still cupping her face.

"We're not having this discussion again. Stop saying it." You mumble something that probably was supposed to be an okay, but it sounded more like a dog dying, which makes you blush even more. "Come on. I don't wanna miss our train." She links her arm to yours, pulling you with her.

"Where have you been? I was getting worried about you." A smile instantly appears on her lips, and her eyes glow.

"Did you miss me?" She asks, looking deep inside your eyes. You don't trust your own voice, so you offer her a simple nod. It seems to make her even happier. "I missed you too. I bruised my ankle. Mike told me to take a week off."

"Are you okay?" You frown, looking down at her feet. She adjusts her purse on her shoulder before looking at you again. "I mean, aren't you supposed to be wearing some kind of protection?"

"Are you a doctor?" You blush at first, taking it as a joke, but when you look at her, you see a serious, maybe even curious, look in her eyes.

"No, I don't think I've the guts to do so." You answer, sitting on a free bench. "I work at a business company, remember?"

"Oh, right. I never pegged you as a doc anyway." She shrugs. "I'm just fine. Look." She moves her feet, grinning at you. "No damage done."

You keep talking like nothing had happened, like that week had been a completely blur. You realize why you missed her so much. She's probably the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. No. She's probably the sweetest person you've ever met.

"Hey, listen." She opens her bag and pulls a brochure, handing it to you. "Mike and I are performing this weekend. If you want to go…" There's hope in her voice and in her eyes. You recall having promised Quinn you'd go out with her this weekend. She'd have to forgive you. She's the one who's always telling you to go on a date anyway.

"I'll be there." You promise her. Her smile is bigger than it's ever been. You feel your body warming up because of that.

"You can show them this at the entrance and they'll let you in." She says. "You can go meet me at the cabinet if you want." You feel the train starting to slow down. You sigh. You don't want to go.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" It's a promise. She winks at you, giving you room to go.

"Hey san? Don't lose it." She tells you. "I wrote my number down there."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You struggle for an hour about what you should wear. You've never been to a dance performance before. Should you wear something casual? You have no fucking clue. You often give up and put on one of your dresses and your leather jacket. It makes you look kind of badass, and you just love that.

You watch her dancing, and she's flawless. Nothing unusual, of course. You just can't take that stupid smile out of your face during the whole presentation. Mike is not bad too, but Brittany is just – perfect.

As soon as it's over, you rush to her cabinet. You brought flowers, and you struggle for a moment if you should or shouldn't give it to her. But you want to. So you wait a few moments (since you got there like, as soon as they left the stage) until you finally knock. She immediately opens it, a huge grin dancing on her lips. She pulls you inside, closing the door behind her.

"You were amazing." You blurt out, making her blush. "I brought these for you." You hand her the flowers. She hasn't changed yet, so she's still wearing that tight outfit. You like it.

"Thanks." Should you hug her? You're not sure. What if she doesn't like physical contact that much? Nonsense. You step closer, and she's already opening her arms. She's smiling. You hug her for the first time. You're a little bit taller than her, since you're on your heels, so you're able to press your nose to her hair. She smells nice. "Did you really like it?"

"Are you kidding? I loved it." You smile, letting go of her. "You looked so – I don't know, peaceful maybe?" You bite your lower lip. "I didn't know you were that good." The compliment makes her blush. You had noticed that she kind that bounced on her feet when she got a little too excited or a bit embarrassed. "Hey, are you, uh – I mean, you probably have plans already, but I, uh –"

"Give me a minute to change and we can go, okay?" She grins. She then cups your face and kisses your cheek, making your face redder than ever. "You're sweet."

She closes the door, not giving you a chance to answer. There's a stupid smile upon your lips.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

You two eat at an Italian restaurant, nothing too fancy or too special. It's not like you had planned this anyway. But she enjoys it, and she's looking so excited that you can't help but beam at it. She tells you everything about the performance, and how scared Mike got when she bruised her ankle, and you can't help but lose yourself times after times in that sea blue.

You take her for a walk after dinner. You're not far from her place, nor from yours, since you two live close by, so you don't give much attention to time. She holds your hand. You like it.

After all, you walk her to her place. She tells you that it's okay, she could go by herself, but you hate the idea of her having to go on her own. So yeah, you take her to her place. And she seems to appreciate this.

"I had fun tonight." She says, playing with her keys. She looks at you with the sweetest smile you've ever seen, before taking a step closer. "Thanks."

You don't answer. You're too busy leaning in to kiss her. You wrap your arms around her neck and she pulls you closer, your bodies colliding. She smiles into the kiss. You can tell she was expecting for this. So you kiss her harder, like you want to make sure it'll last.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

It's only another month later, at the first time you're lying on her bed, cuddling with her, that you realize you've fall madly in love with this girl. And at the thought, you realize that you don't ever want to let her go.

You smile at the realization. Because, honestly, you know she'll always feels the same too.