Title: Always The Same (1/3)
Author: Race122VE (Coll)
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Rating: PG-13
Summary: One night, one morning, two points of view.
Word Count: A little over 2400
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: No spoilers. I try to remain cannon to the story line, but this doesn't really get into the club or competitions, just mentions. This is my second attempt at this pairing. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!

Chapter 1 - Santana

It happened the same way it always did.

Some random jock's parents were away for the weekend, he got his hands on a keg and some cheap liquor, and word spread like wildfire through the school's popular crowd.

So, like every other time, Santana showed up about an hour after the party was in full swing. Some would say she was late, Santana would argue that she works off of her own time and she was right on schedule. Someone, it could be a basketball player trying to get into her pants or a freshman Cheerio that sought her approval, would put a beer in her hand and she would finish it before making her way into the kitchen to start going through the liquor.

It was there that she would, usually, run into Matt, Mike, or Puck but things with Glee Club had kinda boiled over for the guys. She felt bad, but not enough to enjoy the benefits of being a girl and still being able to remain on the Cheerios. Coach Sylvester was making that increasingly difficult, however, but it was just another thing she shoved deep down and piled on top of all the other crap. She seemed to stumble upon a rare opportunity of having the "bar" completely at her disposal with the lack of the guys.

Looking over the selection, that's the best word she can think of to describe the cheapest vodka she's ever seen, a bottle of Jaeger, some tequila she never heard of, and some other fancy bottle that someone probably stole from their parents liquor cabinet, Santana doesn't find anything that she's craving and settles for refilling her cup with beer. About half way through, she looks up and can't help but smile. If she were being honest, there's only one thing that's on her mind and, as she looks through the open door out into the living room that's serving as the small dance floor, she spots what she really wants.

The same as all the other times.

It's not long before the blonde hair that's whipping back and forth lands sloppily over Brittany's face. She pushes it back with one hand and stops as her blue eyes lock with Santana's dark brown. A look that many have seen, but Santana pretends that there's something different about this particular look, flashes across the blonde's face. Her hand comes up and her finger points to Santana and curls it back towards her in an inviting fashion.

Her body begins moving forward before her mind can get over how breathtaking Brittany is when she's dancing. Santana likes to think she's in check, like she's got every single one of her thoughts and emotions under control. Because of that misplaced confidence she'll, more often than not, find herself seeking out the blonde during Glee or Cheerio's choreography. Some have wondered aloud or actually had the nerve to approach and ask before. Santana made sure that not only was there nothing going on, but that no one would ever come to her with that notion ever again.

Using whatever means necessary.

The music that had been thumping lowly in her head while in the kitchen began to deafeningly increase as she pushed into the crowd of drunk, sloppy dancers and into the arms of her best friend. Brittany's arms had wrapped around Santana's waist, eliminating all space in between while Santana brought her arms tightly around Brittany's neck. She could feel the blonde's smile against her cheek as they began to sway back and forth along with the music.

They break apart, but find small ways to hold on to each other as they dance. When a fast song comes on they'll hold hand and twirl each other around, but when something not exactly slow but not too fast comes on their hands hold on softly to their waists as they sway to the beat. They ignore the boys that come up behind them, or break into their routine because they didn't really matter. They liked watching two hot girls dance together and Santana felt like it was a small price to play to get to be this open in public with Brittany.

Depending on the songs on someone's playlist, this could go on for over an hour. Brittany never got tired of dancing and Santana never got tired of being around Brittany. When the dancing did stop, they'd make their way over to the drinks and throw back whatever was available. Along with being around them when they danced, guys often were around when they drank because, and some might find it hard to believe but Santana just chalks that up to stupidity, she can drink like a frat boy.

So, the idiot boys gather round, trying to drink her under the table or get her drunk enough to do something stupid or, even worse, try to get her to play Quarters or Asshole like she isn't a genius when it comes to drinking games just so they can gloat. Brittany would be around, backing up Santana and doing little cheers as she sipped on her beer and did the occasional shot of whatever was presented to her. Then, they would go back to dancing.

After anything they did, they would always go back to dancing.

The time always varied, but sooner or later Santana would take Brittany's hand and drag her away. Sometimes it would be the bathroom, usually it was outside or anywhere they could be alone, and then Santana would push Brittany up against a wall and attack her mouth using her own. The time varied on how much self control Santana could hold on to dancing up against the blonde, breathing in her scent, and the trail of fire Brittany's touch left.

Brittany never objected. Never questioned why here, now, or what brought this on. She just gave in. Clinging just as hungrily to Santana and not being able to get enough of the other girl. Things would always progress pretty quickly between them. Santana's hands always managed to make their way up Brittany's shirt while she broke free from the kiss and explored Santana's neck, licking and nibbling along the way.

Then, just when she thinks she can't take it anymore and wants to take the blonde then and there, she pulls away, links their fingers together, and drags Brittany out of the party. Lima is a small enough town where all the kids from high school generally live in the same area, so they walk to whoever's house is available. This time, it's Santana's home that's available for the night.

They take their time walking, despite the heat and passion that had been building up between them moments before, hands swinging back and forth and small smiles plastered on their faces as they enjoy being close to each other. Once they're in the house, they waste no time in getting to Santana's room. It's dark because she forgets to leave the light on, but there's a small glow from a streetlight outside her window that is perfectly locked on Brittany as she walks through the door and immediately removes the tank top that was clinging to her body.

Santana closes the door and leans back against it, watching and waiting for Brittany to turn around and eliminate the space between them. She'll wait a while before she turns around and walks slowly towards Santana. It's a routine they've done time and time again, but she never tires of Brittany tugging off Santana's shirt and running her hands painfully slow up her torso to finally cup her face and pull her into a kiss. It's not as heated and urgent as before. They know they're alone, they know they have all night, and they plan to use every second of that time.

While Santana enjoys taking their time, she enjoys it better from her bed. They collapse, lips still firmly attached, and push themselves further on. Santana was on top, adjusting her weight when she broke free and gasped as Brittany suddenly hooked her leg around Santana's waist and flipped them over. She began to laugh and Brittany joined in as she settled herself above Santana and gazed down. Their eyes locked and the laughter died down.

Brittany would break eye contact first, but she wouldn't look further than her own fingers tracing the lines of Santana's face, admiring her beauty. Santana had to swallow the words "I love you" that would get stuck in her throat when this happened because, yeah, guys watched her and told her how hot she was but her best friend was different. With Brittany she knew she was beautiful. Her thumb came up and smoothed over Brittany's lower lip before traveling behind her neck and tugging her down into a kiss.

Santana's mouth was open and Brittany's tongue was welcomed warmly. They remained that way, kissing, Brittany pulling her closer, and Santana tangling her hands in Brittany's hair. Before she knew it, nimble fingers had made their way to Santana's jeans and unbuttoned them. That's when it would dawn on Santana, while both were half naked, it still wasn't enough. She rolled them over to their side so they could kick off their pants and remove all other pieces of clothing before kissing again.

Things got heated when their naked bodies pushed up against each other and the desire to be close over took any other thought in their minds. Santana found herself on her back again, Brittany's weight pressing down on top of her. Not long after, Brittany's hand forces itself between them. The rest is a passion filled haze. Moans fill the room, sweat glistens off their bodies, and Brittany presses a lingering kiss to Santana's lips once their bodies begin to relax.

Soft lips travel along a tanned jaw before moving down to her neck and settling there. Santana closes her eyes, every time, and tries to burn it into her memories: the weight of Brittany's body, settled comfortably on top of her own, the heat that warms her more than any other thing in the entire world, the feel of the hot breath on her neck, and the sounds that follow the breath, muffled by the lingering passion and ringing still pounding in her ear from the party. She's not sure how long they stay like this, but she knows it's not nearly long enough when Brittany shifts the majority of her body off Santana, allowing her to curl against her side.

She shivers involuntarily at the loss of heat, but turns slightly to the side as Brittany drapes an arm across her stomach and tangles their legs together. It's not as warm as it was, but the feel of how tightly Brittany clings to her makes up for it and Santana sighs as she brings her arms around and pulls the blonde closer to her body. Automatically, her hand moves and pushes the mess of blonde hair off her body and away from Brittany's face and smiles when she sees her eyes closed and a content look on her face.

This is the time that Santana longs for the most. Sure, Brittany's asleep, but it's not about Brittany. It's about being able to hold her and breathe her in and mumble sweet nothings as her lips graze the top of her head. It's about being able to do what she wants to do all the time, and not have to worry about a small town full of whispers and judgments.

So, she just laid there, enjoying the moment and the feel and everything about it. She had the time too because it always took Santana a long time to fall asleep. She never knew where it stemmed from, just that every time she laid down and stared up at her ceiling it was an hour or so before she could actually close her eyes. Normally, Santana hated this.

Except on these nights when she, eventually, gets to fall asleep holding Brittany close to her. Normally, she begs for sleep to come. These nights, she fights it off with everything she has. The alcohol doesn't help, and the general exhaustion of her life joins the fight and eventually she falls asleep. Not before managing to whisper, so low that she's almost certain it's a thought and not something she actually says, "I love you."

Then everything goes dark.

xxxxx

People dream.

Santana's a person, so she knows she dreams. She just never remembers. Even when reflecting on nights like these, when she gets to fall asleep and wake up with Brittany, she'll close her eyes and then open them and it'll be morning. Rarely, there's an instance where she knows that she just had a dream about something, but it just becomes this nag in the back of her mind that she knows she'll never remember.

One time, she tried explaining it to Brittany. The blonde knew what she meant, said it happened to her sometimes but couldn't understand how it happened to Santana all the time. She would frown, and Santana's body would tense as her brain tried to work its way into thinking of how to stop Brittany from pouting.

It shows all over Santana's face, and Brittany brings her hands up to clutch softly at her cheeks. "I just don't like the idea that you're missing out, cause dreams are amazing, S," she says quietly, surely, and with a small smile to tell her that everything is OK. "Besides…if you don't dream, then you don't have nightmares."

That's what Santana chalks the next moments up to: a nightmare.

It was always the same. Santana would wake up and still be able to feel Brittany pressed up against her side, and then she would get creative and find fun ways to wake her up. This morning, when her eyes opened after she felt like she just closed them, she was cold. A shiver worked its way through her body and then she heard a small rustle from her window.

Brittany was perched on it, legs drawn up to her chest and her arms hugging them in place. She was looking over as the light breeze from the window wafted through her hair. Santana lifted herself up on her elbows, her face scrunched up in question.

"Britt-" she managed to get out before the blonde cut her off with a statement that had convinced her that she was in a night mare.

"I don't wanna do this anymore."