Title: Patience
Author: emmaliefje
Pairings: Brittany/Santana, side Quinn/Puck
Spoilers: Everything up to 2x10 A Very Glee Christmas.
Summary: Future!fic. Brittany is not known for being patient. But when she finds an engagement ring in Santana's coat pocket, will she be able to wait for Santana to get up the courage to ask her? Complete, but unpublished. Will be updated biweekly.
Rating: NC-17 for physical intimacy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Glee might just become The Brittana Show.

Brittany is not known for being patient. She knows it about herself, just like she knows her feet will get cold when she wears blue socks, but not when she wears red socks (like the ones with the baubles on the big toe). She doesn't like to wait. Particularly when it comes to Santana. When she wants something, she knows she will get it. A pout, a flutter of eyelashes, a winning smile, or a few well-placed fingers is all it takes, and she can see Santana melt and become putty in her hands – or beneath her lips, depending on the situation. Like that time at Nationals after their performance when all she'd had to do was run her fingers under the hem of Santana's skirt and ask "Now?" in a throaty whisper, and the brunette had nearly dragged her to the nearest empty room and left hickeys that no amount of cover-up could hide and fingerprints that bruised beautifully purple on the bus ride home.

So, seven years after the hickeys from Nationals have faded, when Santana wakes her with a kiss and whispers that she went birthday shopping early in the morning, Brittany squeals with delight and demands her present on the spot.

"Trust me, Britt, this one is worth waiting for," Santana insists. She grins and fidgets nervously with a fold in the sheets that Brittany has disregarded (she never understood the need for sheets; she's got Santana to keep her warm).

Brittany groans and nods reluctantly, hiding a small mischievous grin. In the end, she knows she always gets her way anyway. She'll get whatever anyone denies her, especially if it's Santana. And if something is so good that other people think it is worth waiting for, Brittany wants it right then and there.

"Okay. I'll wait," Brittany grumbles, and Santana raises an eyebrow at the quick defeat. "For now," she adds, with a grin, and Santana matches it; this is the Brittany she knows. Brittany quickly reaches forward and pulls Santana down onto the bed, coat, scarf, hat, and all. The brunette laughs as Brittany rolls on top of her, trapping her beneath her body. "But don't make me wait for something else today, S," she giggles, punctuating her words with a kiss as she reaches to unzip Santana's coat. Santana doesn't make her wait, and strips off her gloves to put her hands to better use.

She plans to wake Santana after a quick shower to redouble her efforts to get her presents because she knows that sometimes, if she waits too long, she forgets what she is waiting for, but as she untangles herself from Santana's sleeping body, fate lays a hand. Or rather, a foot. She dangles her legs over the edge of the bed and jumps off onto Santana's unnoticed coat, and she nearly yelps as her foot lands on something small and hard in one of the pockets. She quickly turns back to Santana, but the brunette hasn't stirred. Brittany looks back at the coat, and frowns. It couldn't be a button; she asked Santana to stop wearing button coats long ago. Buttons take way too long to undo, and Brittany just can't wait sometimes.

She crouches down, fingers through the pockets, and pulls out a small blue box. She pouts; boxes are such dilemmas. She knows the story of the woman who opened a box and let all the bad stuff and sin into the world, but she's pretty sure sex was one of the things that was in the box, and that isn't so bad, is it? She sneaks a peak across the top of the bed at Santana, her sleeping beauty. If it was in Santana's coat, this box couldn't have any bad in it, could it? Ducking down, Brittany gives in to her curiosity, and with a soft click, the box opens.

She nearly squeals in delight at the sparkle of the diamond, but covers her mouth in time to catch the sound. The box holds a small white gold ring with a closed-cut diamond, rimmed by two small sapphires. She fingers the small gems, a smile from ear to ear, running one sentence over and over through her mind: Santana is going to propose.

She remains on the floor, the box cupped in her hands, shell-shocked from happiness for God knows how long, until Santana mumbles in her sleep and Brittany realizes her future fiancé probably wouldn't be too happy to find her like this. She softly closes the box, replaces it in Santana's coat, and tries to control the grin on her face, to no avail. She jumps onto the bed, straddles Santana's naked body and, sweeping away her dark hair with soft fingers, leans down to kiss her neck.

"Santana…" she chimes, kissing up and down her neck. Santana grumbles in response, trying to turn over and bury herself in the bed, but Brittany insistently holds her underneath her, placing quick kisses along her collarbone as she whispers: "I-love-you, I-love-you, I-love-you," silently thinking: I can't wait.

Santana has given up the fight, and opens her eyes slowly, mumbling, "I love you too, Britt." Brittany moves her kisses to Santana's lips; she can feel Santana smiling at the tender wake up call. When they pull apart, she asks sleepily, "What time is it?"

Brittany perks up. "Time for breakfast!"

"Britt, I think it's time for lunch. We've been sleeping – and not sleeping – since eleven."

"But I want to give you breakfast in bed. Lunch in bed isn't romantic." Brittany scrunches up her nose. "And it doesn't sound as nice."

"Let's compromise and call it brunch. 'Brunch in Bed' still sounds nice. Double B… B," Santana smiles, moving a blonde lock of hair behind Brittany's ear.

"I'll make hot chocolate too. It's cold outside." She jumps off the bed and bounds out of the room as Santana calls: "Don't burn your tongue! Wait until it's cooled down!"

Brittany grins. Yes, she can wait.