Warning: Brief language
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Epilogue

"Hey, San?"

"Hm?"

"Do you know why ducks fly south for the winter?"

"No, do I look like some sort of avian expert to you?"

"Because it's too far to walk!"

Santana raised a questioning eyebrow at her blonde best friend as she watched her break into a violent fit of laughter. While she took in the girl's smiling, bright features, she couldn't help but let a small smile of her own play at her lips as she resumed her stare straight ahead.

The two girls were finally back at school. It was their first day back, and although Brittany was feeling infinitely better—the headaches were gone, she no longer limped from the sprained ankle, and the side of her face wasn't scabbed over too badly—she wasn't completely back to herself. Unhidden by her far-from-modest Cheerios uniform, the bruises left by the car were all too visible and turning a sickening shade of green. Not to mention the slowly fading outlines of the seemingly endless amount of cuts and scrapes, some of which had scabbed over and left purple-tinted bits of skin all over her arms and knees.

Brittany was usually not one to get self-conscious. A little nervous, sometimes, but never self-conscious. In fact, she was one of the most confident people the Latina knew. However, she had voiced to Santana during their time in the hospital that she was uncomfortable with her current appearance and had been feeling a little off-putted about returning to McKinley.

"What do you mean you're embarrassed?"

"San, you've seen me. I mean, look at my face. I don't feel very cute with half my face scraped off."

"Speaking of that, remind me to help you put the rest of it back on after I peel it off the pavement on Monday."

"Hey!" Brittany huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. But the more she tried to avert the Latina's watchful eyes and sly smirk, the harder it was for her to hold back the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Ah, see!" Santana continued to grin smugly as the blonde all-too-obviously tried to hide the small smile.

"What?"

"With a smile like that, who's going to notice? All I see is a beautiful girl with a grin up to her ears."

"Jesus christ! My smile is that big? Who the hell am I? Kyra Sedgwick?" She quickly brought her hand to her face and began to feel for a nonexistent, giant mouth.

"You're way too adorable for your own good, you know that?" Santana said through a breathy laugh. She gently pried Brittany's hand from her face, laced their fingers together, and rested their intertwined digits on the blonde's lap. With her other hand she began to absentmindedly play with the girl's soft blonde hair.

"It's not just my face, though, San. My arms and legs look like I got in a fight with a blender—and lost. And it's not like I can hide them or cover them up. I have to wear my uniform. Coach Sylvester would kill me if I didn't."

Santana shook her head. "Naw! I mean, girl! Have you seen your body? Babe, you've got it going on in all the right places. Trust me, that's the last thing they'll be looking at." She wriggled her eyebrows playfully.

"Well, you kind of have a point."

"Of course I do."

"But what if they don't see either of those? I don't want them to stare at me. Not like that, at least."

"Okay." She removed her hand from Brittany's hair and held up a finger. Her voice took on its usual bitch-tone, but maintained an obvious trace of sarcasm. "First of all, that's not going to happen. And second, even if it did happen, I'd go all Lima Heights Adjacent on their asses. Trust me, they'd look much worse than this," she motioned to right side of Brittany's face, "and then they'll be the ones people stare at."

Brittany chuckled and smiled at her friend.

"Sound good?"

"Yup," she nodded. "Just promise me one thing, though."

"What?"

"When we go back to school, don't leave me."

Santana's eyes softened as blue met chocolate and she felt her muscles go lax. It felt like her heart had melted inside her chest. Leaning over, she placed a soft, gentle kiss on the girl's forehead. "Never."

Santana had taken the liberty to drive Brittany to school that day. There was no way she was going to go back on her promise. Except for the classes they didn't share, she refused to let Brittany out of her sight. It was quite obvious when they stepped out of the car that morning that the dancer was indeed feeling distraught about her appearance. A look of nervous uneasiness had been written all over her normally cheerful face. It was at that moment that Santana decided that she was going to commit herself to keeping the blonde focused on anything but her image; anything to keep her from having to see any more looks of discontent from the blonde. She'd had enough of that over the last week to last a lifetime. With a brief encouraging squeeze of the hand, Santana began to lead them into the school. All the while she walked she did not once stop talking. She was officially a distraction.

So while they made their way to class after lunch, Santana was overjoyed to just hear Brittany ramble. She had yet to hear one single complaint nor seen any look of even remote discomfort cross her face. Her mission was turning out to be a success.

As they walked, the two unconsciously swung their adjoining hands—linked at the pinkies—back and forth. While she continued to listen to Brittany's loud, bubbly laughter, she couldn't refrain from widening her smile and giving the blonde's pinky a light squeeze. Brittany did not seem to notice either action, though, as she was still engulfed by laughter over the punchline of her own joke.

Suddenly, however, the laughter was interrupted by a spluttering, "OOF!" and Santana quickly looked over to see Brittany grab at her side with her unoccupied hand. The girl bit the corner of her lower lip and scrunched one eye shut as a sharp pain in her right side overtook her.

"Ribs again?" Santana asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at Brittany in concern.

"Mhm," she blubbered.

"Girl, you've got to cut down on the jokes. You're going to give yourself a hernia."

"A herni-what?" Brittany asked, unscrunching her face and leveling her breath as the pain subsided.

"A hernia."

"Bless you."

The Latina was unable to stop herself as she let out a surprised snort. "Thanks," she said, albeit sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Brittany deadpanned, unable to hear the sarcasm in her friend's voice. "So, San," she continued, "did you watch One Tree Hill last night? Nathan and Haley are so cute!"

"Um, B, does anyone watch that show anymore? What are they on? Their twentieth season or something?"

"Eighth. And yes, I do!"

"Ugh, you know I hate it when you talk about," she shuddered, "Naley."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Sorry."

"That's okay."

A comfortable silence fell over them for the next few moments while they continued their slow traipse through the halls toward their next class. The bell signaling that class was to start in the next few minutes sounded and the halls immediately filled as people began to head to their respective classes.

"San?"

"Hm?"

"I take it back."

"What? You hate Naley? You think One Tree Hill is a waste of life and the CW should just put everyone out of their misery and cancel it?"

"Oh, no." She laughed quietly under her breath and scratched at the back of her neck awkwardly. "Not exactly. I was talking about what I said last week. Remember what I said about being in an open relationship?"

"That?" She raised a question eyebrow. "Yeah, and I remember quite clearly what I said about it too. But whatever you want to do. It's your life. It's up to you to decide what you want to do with it."

"Oh, well that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, last night I broke it off with Wes Brody and my cat. And apparently I never told my motocross coach that we were dating because when I called him to tell him that we were over, he sounded really confused and eventually just hung up on me..." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "But yeah, that whole thing about me not wanting to be exclusive, I take it back."

"Oh yeah? So why the change the of heart?"

"Remember when I said that people are going to think I'm awesome and have super mad game? Well, when they find out who I'm going to date next, they're going to think my game is even more off the chain—like I had to save up all my awesome from each person I was dating and channel it into this next person because only a person with infinitely awesome game could ever be with them!"

"Damn, that's a lot of awesome."

"I know. Pimpin' aint easy, girl."

"I can't believe this person is making my Britts commit. They must really be worth it then."

"Oh, they totally are.

Santana looked up at Brittany. "And who might this person be?"

Brittany tore her stare from straight ahead and looked down to meet the gaze of the Latina attached to her side. A small, warm smile gently creeped over her lips and Santana felt the grip on her pinky tighten as the blonde gave it a soft squeeze.

Her body filled with warmth as she studied Brittany's face. Inside her stomach little happy butterflies were fluttering around—but it was far from the uncomfortable, manic feeling that she got whenever she was nervous. No, these were good butterflies and she liked them. They were invited anytime.

In that moment there really was no way to describe how she felt. For the first time in what felt like a really long time, she wasn't experiencing conflicting feelings. There was no internal battle of emotions or morals echoing in her brain—no empty, cold feeling in her heart.

All there was was a light giddiness in her stomach and a warmth that seemed to radiate through every inch of her being. The thinning crowd of people surrounding them was irrelevant and had all but vanished from her senses. All there was—was Brittany.

Santana's eyes instantly softened when they locked with the blonde's. A soft, innocent smile spread over her lips. "I think they'll like that."

As the words left her mouth, the pair found themselves outside their fourth period classroom. However, instead of going in, Santana gently tugged Brittany aside. They stood a few feet away from the closed door, out of the way of the occasionally bypasser (the halls were all but empty and the bell was due to ring any minute) and out of view from any curious eyes watching from inside the classroom.

"Why aren't we going in?"

"I need to do something first."

"Hm?"

"Listen, Britt. I didn't really want to bring this up and get you thinking about it right now, but I have to say it."

"What is it, San?"

"I know I've said it probably a million times by now, and you're probably tired of hearing it, but I just wanted to say that I'm really glad you're okay."

"I—"

"And that we're okay."

There was a short pause where neither of the two said anything. Eventually, Brittany broke the silence.

"Honestly, S, I think we're better than okay. I think we've always been better than okay." She reached out a hand and lightly brushed Santana's bangs out of her face. "And I'll never get tired of hearing you say that."

The Latina smiled even wider up at the blonde before gracefully wrapping her arms around the tall girl's neck. She nuzzled her head into Brittany's neck as she felt soft, secure arms gently wrap around her back.

The bell rang, but the two stayed like that for a long time. Neither wanted to move. They felt warm, safe, and above all—happy. Santana merely stood there, embracing her best friend, inhaling the scent of her skin, and taking comfort in the most important person she had ever known. Everything about it felt right.

Eventually, though, she did unravel herself from around the dancer. But not before taking the time to softly capture Brittany's lips with her own. As before, the kiss was neither deep nor rushed. It was slow, gentle—innocent. Santana let her lips linger against Brittany's for a few moments before pulling away.

She looked up at Brittany, her face incredibly lit up by the smallest, but happiest of smiles. Brittany stared back at her with much of the same humbly radiant expression. "Thank you," Santana mouthed.

Brittany nodded in response. "Thank you." Reaching out, she took her friend's hand and gave it a small squeeze before linking their pinkies and guiding them into their classroom.

A/N: Well, my fellow readers. That's all she wrote. A bit of an anti-climatic ending, but I wanted to leave it fairly open ended. I will let your imagination decide their fates.
Basically, I'd like to say thank you for taking the time to read this. And a big, extra special thank you to those who constantly reviewed and stuck with me through this entire thing. You know who you are.
I am still amazed by the reaction that this fic has received. You have no idea what it has done for my confidence as a writer. I definitely will not be stopping here. Although I do need a break. School destroys my soul.
If you liked this, then I'd say go check out my other stuff. My writing has changed a lot though, and just a warning, this is probably the happiest thing I've written. There's something wrong with me, I think. I can't help but write depressing stuff. My recommendations are that you read "My Brittany" and then "You're Not Alone" if you like that. You can really see the progression of my writing. I have another fic, entitled "The Familiar Taste of Poison" that is the oldest of all my fics, but I never finished it. It depressed me way too much. (Although I did successfully predict Brittany singing Tik Tok.) Yes, I'm psychic like that. So I'm not going to recommend it, but you may read it if you'd like. They're all Brittana-centric, although the relationship between the two of them varies based on the story. But enough of me whoring my work.

Also, did you like my OTH/Naley remark? I felt the need to bash after the E! Poll. If you're part of the Brittana community (particularly Tumblr) you'll know what I'm talking about.
Again, a big thank you to everyone who read. Feel free to drop a review, I'd love to hear your reactions. Maybe even follow me on Tumblr. Link on my profile. Just remember: It's on. It was always on.