A/N: This takes place towards the end of the first season, except that it's slightly AU because Brittany and Santana haven't had sex yet. Also, this was inspired by the quote below.

"Um, I'm sorry, but have you been to Breadstix? They're, like, legally forbidden to stop bringing you breadsticks. One time, I brought a wheelbarrow, and when the manager tried to stop me from filling it up, I called the corporate office and got her fired." ~Santana, 2x04 "Duets"

Brittany pulled open the front door to her house just as a honk sounded from the street. She pulled her pink jacket tightly around her and braced herself against the harsh wind as she walked across her lawn to the street. She passed the sidewalk and opened the passenger side door of Santana's mom's SUV, breathing a sigh of relief as the warm air hit her from the vents on the dashboard. From the driver's seat, Santana greeted her with a smile.

"Hey Britts," she said, and Brittany could feel Santana's eyes sweep over her body momentarily. She repressed a shiver of anticipation. She and Santana had gone to Breadstix countless times before, but this was different.

"Hey Santana," Brittany replied quietly.

It was different because they had hooked up last week.

She had once kissed Santana at a party in a game of Spin the Bottle, but this time hadn't been like that at all. For one thing, they had been alone. For another, they had not been drinking. And lastly, there hadn't been a bottle. The two of them were just sitting on the couch, watching TV like always. Brittany was getting sleepy, so she leaned over and put her head on Santana's shoulder. Then Santana turned to look at her and Brittany had looked back and then they just sort of leaned in at the same time and kissed each other. And of course, once they started, they hadn't wanted to stop.

Santana had not brought it up again. In fact, Brittany wondered if the whole thing had possibly been a dream. Her parents had confirmed—after giving her a strange look—that she had in fact gone over to Santana's house the week before. But just because she went there didn't mean anything had happened. Even though she felt like she could still taste Santana on her lips and still feel the other girl's hands on her body. Maybe she just had one of those super realistic dreams. That happened sometimes, right?

"Earth to Brittany," Santana said, waving her hand in Brittany's face. Brittany looked up. She had completely zoned out for the last ten minutes. "We're here," Santana informed her. They pulled into the Breadstix parking lot and Santana turned off the car. Brittany climbed out and was greeted by another blast of cold. She made a mean face at the wind and shoved her hands into her pockets, walking towards the restaurant. "Wait," Santana said, heading around to the back of the car.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked, eager to get inside. She rocked on her heels as Santana pulled open the trunk and looked inside.

"Come here and help me," Santana said. Brittany sighed and walked around to the back of the car, looking into the trunk. What she saw caused her brow to furrow in confusion. Inside the spacious back of the SUV was a red and brown object. It most closely resembled some sort of bucket, but it also had wheels. Brittany had never seen anything like it before in her life.

"Is it a bathtub for a duck?" she asked finally.

"No, it's a wheelbarrow," Santana explained patiently, reaching a hand in to grasp one of the handles. "Help me get it out."

"Alright," Brittany agreed. Still confused, she reached into the trunk as well. The wheelbarrow was heavier than it looked, but both girls were able to take it out safely and set it on the ground. Santana closed the trunk took each of the handles of the wheelbarrow, pushing it in front of her as she started to walk to the door of the restaurant. "Uh, why are you taking it inside with you?" Brittany asked.

"No reason," Santana replied cryptically. Brittany decided not to question her friend further. She didn't understand Santana's behavior, but then again, she rarely did, and she couldn't say at this point whether Santana was in fact acting strangely or if Brittany was just being obtuse as usual. So she followed Santana towards Breadstix, rushing ahead to open the door so that the her friend could push the wheelbarrow inside.

They approached the hostess, who glanced from the wheelbarrow up to their faces with a confused look on her face. Ignoring her, Santana spoke first. "Party of two," she declared.

The hostess seemed to deliberate for a moment, but Santana kept a harsh gaze fixed on her until she gave in. "Follow me please," she said, picking up two menus and making her way to an empty booth. Brittany followed and Santana picked up the rear, still pushing the wheelbarrow. "Here you are," the hostess said, placing the menus on the table and moving out of the way so that Brittany and Santana could sit down. Brittany watched as her friend stowed the wheelbarrow under the table before climbing into her seat.

"So did you see Amy Sanders at practice today? She messed up three times in a row. I bet coach will move her to the bottom of the pyramid any day now," Santana said, her eyes lighting up as they always did whenever she thought about other people's misfortune. "Which will be good because I'm pretty sure the girls underneath her are having a hard time holding her up. She must have gained, like, ten pounds since last week."

"Yeah," Brittany nodded, less focused on the words leaving Santana's mouth than on the mouth itself. Dream or not, Brittany's encounter with Santana had changed the way she looked at her best friend. She had always known Santana was gorgeous. But now every time Brittany looked at her, she realized that the girl was more attractive than she had remembered. It was like it was impossible to remember just how beautiful the girl was unless one was staring right at her. As Santana prattled on about the Cheerios, Brittany rested her chin on her palm and watched her friend with a sort of reverence. She remained completely unaware of what was happening around her until the waitress arrived with a bowl of breadsticks.

"Here you are, ladies," she said, laying the breadsticks down on the table. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'll have a diet coke," Santana responded, her eyes fixed on the bowl of breadsticks. The waitress turned to Brittany.

"Water, please," Brittany told her quietly. Her throat was parched, and she realized she had probably left her mouth hanging open when she had been watching Santana earlier. Crap, Brittany thought, resolving to be more subtle. Instead of looking back up at Santana, she reached for a breadstick to distract herself. But before she could take hold of it, Santana's hand reached out and slapped it away.

"Not yet," was all her friend offered as an explanation. She took the bowl and breadsticks and abruptly dumped it under the table. Brittany stared at her in shock.

"What did you just do?" she exclaimed. "You threw away the breadsticks!"

"Relax," Santana said with a smirk. "I just put them in the wheelbarrow."

"Why?" Brittany asked, perplexed. "I want to eat them."

"Then ask for more," Santana said simply. Her cell phone beeped and she pulled it out of her pocket. After a moment of reading, her fingers began to fly over the keyboard. "It's Q," Santana explained when she saw that Brittany was still looking at her questioningly. "She wants to know if we're going to Puck's party tomorrow."

"Oh," Brittany responded. Actually, her confused look had not been about the texting. She still wanted to know why the breadsticks had to go away. But she knew better than to ask. "Are we going to the party?" she asked instead.

"Duh," Santana replied, hitting the 'Send' key and putting her phone back into her pocket. "I wouldn't miss a Puckerman party for anything."

Brittany tried to share some of her friend's enthusiasm, but she couldn't quite manage it. Her mind had just gone back to the last time they had gone to one of Puck's parties. They had been playing Truth or Dare and Santana had kissed Puck. For the rest of the night, the two of them had hung out together, sipping beer on the patio and talking. At the time, Brittany hadn't minded too much because she had been hanging out with Quinn and had later gone up to Puck's room to make out with a hot senior named Josh. But now the thought of Santana hooking up with Puck again made Brittany's stomach clench. Though she normally liked parties, she wished that they could skip this one. Maybe Santana would agree not to go if Brittany could think of something better to do instead.

"Hey, we should have a One Tree Hill marathon this weekend," she suggested.

Santana looked surprised at the abrupt suggestion. "Um, alright. Sure. I think I can come over on Sunday."

"I'm busy Sunday," Brittany said. "How about Saturday?"

"Tomorrow?" Santana asked. "But we'll be getting ready for Puck's party."

"Well…we don't have to go—"

"Here are your drinks," the waitress interrupted, handing each girl their respective glasses. She looked at the empty bowl of breadsticks. "Can I get you some more?" she asked.

"Yeah, can we have two bowls this time?" Santana asked her.

The waitress looked slightly taken aback. "Sure," she said after a moment. "I'll get that for you right now." She walked away, and Brittany looked back at Santana. She had been about to say that they should ditch Puck's party, but when the waitress cut her off, Brittany lost her nerve. Feeling awkward, she reached for a menu and began to glance through it. Santana, who knew the Breadstix catalog by heart, reached again for her phone.

"Quinn says a bunch of seniors are going to be at Puck's party," Santana told Brittany. "I'm so excited."

"Yeah," Brittany echoed halfheartedly. Santana seemed to notice the hesitation in Brittany's voice because she immediately looked up from her phone.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Brittany responded, forcing a smile.

"'Kay," Santana replied, looking back down at her text from Quinn. "Hey, you hooked up with one of the seniors last time, right? What was his name? John?"

"Josh," Brittany replied quietly. A few months ago, she had been proud of her conquest, but all she could think about now was that Santana hadn't even remembered what his name was. Brittany remembered the name of every guy Santana had ever been with. And now that she thought about it, she had hated every single one.

"Right, Josh," Santana said. "Do you think you'll hook up with him again?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Brittany responded. "Probably not, actually." Was it just her imagination, or did Santana look slightly relieved when she said that?

"Yeah he wasn't that cute," Santana said quickly. "You can do better. We can each find new guys tomorrow, okay?"

Brittany couldn't even manage to respond, so she just nodded, staring down at the table. She looked so intensely at the grain in the white plastic that her eyes began to slide out of focus. She knew she should be trying to act normal—after all, this conversation was no different than ones that she'd had with Santana hundreds of times before—but she just couldn't manage it. Something had changed, and Brittany just couldn't force herself to pretend that it hadn't. The problem was, she didn't know exactly what had changed. She had always loved Santana. And she had never been in love before, but she had always assumed it would be different than what she felt for Santana. She thought that her love for her best friend was more like her love for her parents, or her sisters, or even her cat. But maybe her feelings for Santana were something else entirely. She just didn't know anymore.

"How do you know the difference between loving someone and being in love?" she wondered out loud.

Santana seemed to accept the abrupt change in subject without too much surprise. However, she was quiet for a few moments. "Well, one of them is romantic, I guess."

"Like how, though?" Brittany asked, slight desperation creeping into her voice. She didn't want Santana to grow suspicious about her intentions but she just had to know.

"Well when you love someone, you just love them, like a friend. But when you're in love with someone, you want to like kiss them and go on dates and you don't want them to love anyone else the same way that they love you. Does that make sense?"

"So when you're in love with someone, you want them to be your gir—boyfriend," Brittany clarified. She caught herself right before saying 'girlfriend,' but it had been a close call. She wondered if Santana had noticed. If she had, though, she chose to ignore it.

"Yeah basically. Okay, it's like this," Santana said, leaning forward with that look she always got when she was preparing to explain something to Brittany. It was a look she wore often. "Loving someone as a friend is not exclusive. You can love lots of different friends, and your friends can love lots of different people that aren't you, and it doesn't matter. But when you love someone, like you really love them, you don't love anyone else the same way. And they are the only person in the world you want to be with. Does that make sense?"

It made sense. It made so much sense. Brittany stared at the beautiful girl in front of her, realization crashing over her in waves. She wanted to kiss Santana. She wanted to go on dates with her and she didn't want to talk about boys while they were on those dates and she didn't want anyone to have the same feelings for Santana as she did. Brittany was dumb, but she was smart enough to know in that moment that she was in love with Santana. She was in love with her best friend and had been for a long time, possibly ever since they'd known each other. The power of her revelation stunned her so much that she couldn't even think anymore. She knew Santana was still looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to respond, but she couldn't think of what to say. Her mind had gone completely numb.

Luckily, the waitress chose that moment to come back with two bowls of breadsticks. She set them on the table with a smile and pulled a small notebook from her apron. "What will you ladies be having tonight?"

"I'll have the chicken ravioli," Santana replied predictably. The waitress jotted it down and turned to Brittany.

"Uh," Brittany said shakily. Despite having opened her menu earlier, she hadn't really looked at it. Besides, food was the farthest thing from her mind. "Spaghetti with meatballs, please," she said.

"Sure thing," the waitress said, leaning over her notebook to record Brittany's order as well.

"And some more breadsticks, too," Santana added. Both the waitress and Brittany looked at Santana in confusion before their gaze fell to the table. Two bowls stared back at them, empty except for a few crumbs. The waitress looked positively alarmed.

"I just brought you some," she said, looking as though she feared herself—and possibly Santana—to be mentally unstable.

"This place is called Breadstix because it provides it's customers with unlimited breadsticks, am I correct?" Santana asked. Her tone was pleasant, but Brittany could see the anger that was brewing within her friend. The waitress clearly sensed it too, for she quickly responded "Of course," and left in a hurry. When she was gone, Brittany narrowed her eyes at Santana.

"Did you put them in the wheelbarrow?" she asked.

"Obviously," Santana smirked. She looked as though she thought this was the best idea she'd ever had. "We're going to have enough breadsticks to last until the summer."

"San," Brittany reprimanded. "Isn't that illegal?" She was scared to go to prison, but on the other hand, if they got arrested, Santana wouldn't be able to go to Puck's party. And then they would get to be in jail together. Maybe they would even share a cell.

"It's not illegal," Santana assured her as Brittany mentally slapped herself for thinking such stupid and inappropriate thoughts. "It says on their menu that every meal comes with as many breadsticks as you can eat."

"Yeah but you can't eat this many," Brittany replied.

"Yes I can…eventually," Santana countered. "Look, don't be such a killjoy. This is supposed to be fun. You need to act a little happier."

"Fine," Brittany said, and they settled into an uneasy silence. Brittany could not stop thinking about what she had just realized. She was in love with Santana. This obviously changed everything about their relationship. She just wished she knew what to do. A large part of her knew that telling Santana would be a terrible idea, but she had to tell someone, and her best friend seemed like an obvious choice. The pressure of keeping such a big secret was almost becoming physically painful.

"I don't want to go to Puck's party," she said finally. Santana, who had been sipping on her soda, looked up in surprise.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I just don't feel like it," Brittany responded.

"Alright," Santana said. She didn't look mad. If anything, she looked slightly concerned. "Well, we don't have to go if you don't want to."

Brittany's heart leaped. "Really?" she asked.

"Sure. Is it because you wanted to watch One Tree Hill?"

"Yes," Brittany lied. "Well, maybe. I just feel like doing something with just us." She looked into Santana's eyes, praying that she hadn't said something too revealing.

"Okay," Santana said, and she gave Brittany one of those smiles that Brittany knew was reserved only for her. Brittany smiled back, her first genuine smile of the night. "I knew you were acting weird earlier," Santana said. "Why didn't you just tell me you didn't want to go?"

"I didn't want to ruin it for you," Brittany said with a shrug. "I thought you wanted to go hang out with everyone."

"I want to hang out with you," Santana corrected. "I don't care what we do." She reached under the table and pulled out two breadsticks, handing one to Brittany. Brittany took it, feeling positively lightheaded. "So what's up?" Santana asked.

"Not much," Brittany replied, nibbling on the edge of her breadstick. "Are you finally going to tell me why you brought the wheelbarrow?"

"Oh," Santana laughed. "I don't know why. I just felt like seeing how many breadsticks they would bring me. And they will probably make a good midnight snack."

"That's true," Brittany agreed. Santana was so smart. It was only one of the many reasons why Brittany loved her. Which, Brittany remembered, she still had to do something about…

"So Berry is still dating that Jessie kid," Santana said. "That's kind of disgusting."

"Ew, I know," Brittany said, seizing gladly on the new topic of conversation. Dealing with her feelings could wait. She and Santana talked for a while about Rachel and her love triangle with Jesse and Finn, until the waitress returned with their plates of food and another bowl of breadsticks.

"Thanks," Santana said, taking the breadsticks. This time, she didn't wait for the waitress to turn away before dumping the entire bowl into the wheelbarrow. She pulled the empty bowl out from under the table and handed it back to the startled waitress. "You know the drill," she said with a smile.

The waitress took the bowl back from Santana slowly, seemingly unsure as to how to proceed. She seemed to be intimidated by Santana, though, so she took the bowl and made her way uncertainly back towards the kitchen. Brittany watched her go, and saw her stop to talk with another waiter on her way back. The woman mouthed something to her coworker and pointed in Santana's direction. Brittany quickly looked down so neither of them would catch her eye, but Santana seemed utterly oblivious to the entire exchange. She placed her napkin haphazardly on her lap and grabbed her fork, digging in to her plate of ravioli eagerly.

A comfortable silence followed as both the girls started eating. At their usual restaurant, with their usual entrees in front of them, things between them seemed almost normal. Except for the fact that Brittany couldn't seem to stop herself from glancing up at her friend every minute. Even watching her eat is cute, Brittany thought to herself. What is wrong with me?

After eating half of her plate of pasta, Brittany had made a decision. She had to tell Santana how she felt. If she didn't, things would just get weirder and weirder until their friendship fell apart. But what could she say? Hey Santana, I'm in love with you? Hey, do you want to be my girlfriend? Hey Santana, I think I might be gay?

Nothing sounded good in Brittany's head, so she decided to prolong the silence. But that was almost worse because the voice in her head was screaming at her to say something, and in the quiet, there was no ignoring it. Brittany was about to excuse herself to go to the restroom because she was having trouble thinking with Santana right in front of her, but before she could, she saw the waitress approaching their table with an official looking woman in tow. "Uh oh," Brittany said.

Santana looked up from her plate and smirked. "I wonder if they're coming to talk to us?" she asked, though it was obvious she already knew the answer.

"Well it doesn't look like she brought any more breadsticks," Brittany said in a low voice. She wanted to act as cool as Santana about the whole situation, but she was actually terrified. Whatever it said on their menu, she was pretty sure that giving a wheelbarrow of breadsticks to one customer was not what the management had in mind.

The woman in the suit reached the table first, and the waitress seemed to make an attempt to hide behind her. "Hi, I'm Anne Summers," she said, reaching a hand out to Santana. "I'm the manager of this restaurant."

Santana took her hand. "Nice to meet you," she said conversationally. Brittany could tell that her friend was loving every minute of this. "I'm Santana and this is Brittany."

Brittany gave a small wave and slumped down in her seat. She wanted to disappear. "Katie here tells me that you two have been asking for a lot of breadsticks," Anne Summers said, indicating the waitress behind her. Katie seemed to be just as embarrassed as Brittany about the entire situation. Santana, however, responded brazenly.

"Well I was hoping to fill my wheelbarrow," she explained. "So actually, if you want to skip the whole formality of bringing us individual bowls and bring out an entire crate, that might be more efficient." The corners of Santana's mouth twitched as she spoke.

The manager seemed to catch on to Santana's sarcastic tone, because her face became immediately less welcoming. "I'm sorry, but we cannot allow you to take an entire wheelbarrow of breadsticks home with you."

"Why not?" Santana demanded. "It says on your menu that you'll bring us unlimited breadsticks."

"Well, yes, but those breadsticks are meant to be consumed on the premises," Anne Summers said. "We don't allow our customers to take the breadsticks home with them."

"Is that right?" Santana asked, her voice becoming slightly louder. To Brittany's horror, several heads from other tables started to turn towards the sound. She sank down even lower, until her chin was level with the table. "Because if that's the case," Santana continued, "then you should write that on your menu. You should say 'Unlimited breadsticks—provided that you have an unlimited stomach.'"

"Well that's not exactly the case," the manager responded. Brittany noticed that she seemed slightly flustered and suddenly felt a rush of pride at Santana's ability to argue. Even though she did not condone this behavior. At all.

"Then what is the case?" Santana, flipping her hair over her shoulder and staring down both Anne Summers and Katie with a look that had been used to make many Cheerios cry. A jolt of electricity shot through Brittany's body. She suddenly became very warm.

"Well, we do bring customers as many breadsticks as they would like to eat, but we have the right to determine when a diner is being unreasonable. You are not entitled to take food from our restaurant that you have not paid for. If we decide that your behavior is inappropriate for any reason, we are allowed to choose not to serve you."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Santana said, and Brittany could tell that both the women in front of them were about to receive a serious bitch slap. She felt a shiver of anticipation and her tongue slipped out of her mouth unconsciously, moistening her lips. "You are going to choose not to serve us? Do you know how many times I have been to this restaurant? Do you know how much money I have spent here?" Almost the entire restaurant was watching them now, but Brittany no longer cared. Santana had always looked hot when she was angry, and right now Brittany was unbelievably turned on. "My weekly allowance pays for your house. Every time I eat dinner here, your life gets just a little bit better. Did you think about that before you decided to come out here and ruin my evening? Is this a good way for you to be treating your customers?"

"Well—I didn't—we have a policy—." Anne Summers began to splutter, moving her mouth several times but seeming unable to produce words.

"And one more thing," Santana added, victory already showing on her face. "I am the captain of the McKinley High Cheerios, and I'm about to choose a location for us to have our end-of-basketball-season dinner. And now I know that it's not going to be here. So you just think about that before you go to bed tonight. Think about the twenty customers you just lost." This time, Anne Summers did not even attempt to respond. "But hey," Santana continued, "it's better to lose customers than breadsticks, right?"

Tension filled the air as every single person in the entire restaurant appeared to be waiting to see how the manager would respond. All of the waiters were stopped in their tracks. Brittany noticed that several of the chefs appeared to have come out of the kitchen to watch the show. Anne Summers looked around the room helplessly before clearing her throat. "I'll be with you in a moment," she muttered finally, and she turned briskly and began to walk away. Katie followed at almost a run. Santana settled back into her seat, looking incredibly satisfied.

"That was exhilarating," she said with a huge smile. Then she looked at Brittany. "What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" Brittany realized that she was leaning forward in her seat, her mouth hanging slightly open and her breathing ragged. She quickly regained her posture. "Nothing," she said quickly. Except that I have never wanted you so bad, she thought, but she knew well enough not to say it. The two girls waited in silence until a friendly looking man approached their table.

"Hi, I'm Jeff, the assistant manager," he said with a large smile, reaching out a hand to each of them in turn. "I want to apologize profusely for any inconvenience we might have caused you and I want to assure you that each of your meals tonight will be free of charge. Additionally, we will make sure that your wheelbarrow gets filled."

"Thank you," Brittany said gratefully. She mostly just wanted this evening to be over so she could get away from Santana and hopefully calm down.

"Yeah, thanks," Santana said. "Although you can't really put a dollar amount on the nice evening out with my girlfriend that was ruined by that cow."

Brittany was about to kick Santana under the table for calling the manager a cow, but she suddenly froze with her foot poised to strike. Did Santana just say…?

"Yes, yes, I understand," Jeff said sympathetically. "Still, I hope you will choose to come back. Tonight was just a fluke and I want you to know that customer satisfaction means everything to us here at Breadstix."

"I want to believe you," Santana went on, "but I know that next time we go out, this restaurant will automatically not be at the top of our list, you know what I mean?"

"Of course," Jeff replied. "Perhaps I can get you some coupons as a sort of incentive?"

Santana flashed him her most winning smile. "That would be marvelous," she replied.

"Excellent," Jeff said, looking relieved. "I'll get those for you right away. And I'll send a waiter for your wheelbarrow."

"Am I good or what?" Santana asked as he walked away.

"Santana," Brittany croaked. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding against her chest. "Santana, did you just say…did you just say that I was your girlfriend?"

Any excuses that Santana could have used were rendered irrelevant as Brittany saw her face grow pale. She looked at Brittany for several moments and Brittany could tell that she was scared. There were a number of reasons why Santana could have used that word, a number of innocent reasons, but as they stared at each other, they both knew that it had not been one of those reasons. "I made a mistake," Santana said quietly.

"Did you?" Brittany asked, her voice even softer.

"What are you saying?"

"Santana I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we made out," Brittany said, the words pouring out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I think I'm in love with you."

Brittany watched as the words seemed to hit Santana like a physical force. The other girl fell back against the back of her seat, her mouth open in shock. Brittany watched her, nearly dying of anticipation, praying that her best friend wasn't about to totally freak out. Santana took several deep breaths and then began to speak.

"I—."

"Here you are, Brittany and Santana," Jeff interrupted, looking chipper as he handed them each a Breadstix coupon. Behind him stood Katie, holding a large bucket of breadsticks. Santana stood and pulled the wheelbarrow out from under the table, and as she held it upright Katie promptly began to fill it.

"Thanks," Santana said when she was done. "We'll definitely be leaving now." She tucked her coupon into her pocket so she could hold the wheelbarrow with both hands. "Come on, Britt."

"I hope to see you again soon!" Jeff said as Brittany exited the booth, feeling completely overwhelmed. She nodded distractedly at Jeff as a thank you and followed Santana towards the front of the restaurant. The hostess held the door open for them as they left.

The door swung shut behind them and they found themselves completely alone in the dark parking lot. Brittany waited for Santana to speak first, but the other girl made a beeline for the car. "Santana—" she began, but Santana shook her head. Brittany felt her heart sink. What had she just done? She had told Santana she was in love with her, and Santana didn't say it back, and now she had to endure a painful ride home with nothing but a bunch of breadsticks to protect against what was sure to be a very awkward silence. What had she been thinking?

They reached the car and Santana propped the wheelbarrow up against it. Brittany struggled to think of a suitable apology, but before she could speak, Santana turned around and grabbed her roughly. She shoved Brittany against the door, and Brittany barely had time to register what was going on before Santana's hands grabbed on to her face and pulled it against her own in a searing kiss.

Santana went straight for tongue, and Brittany moaned before she could stop herself. She reached down and grabbed onto Santana's waist, pulling the other girl into her. Their chests pressed together and Brittany felt another surge of arousal. Santana tasted like heaven, and Brittany didn't think she could ever get enough of it. Their tongues intertwined and Brittany forgot about the cold as the kiss went on and on. Finally, though, Brittany had to pull away to take a gasping breath.

"Let's put those breadsticks in the car and get the fuck out of here," Santana whispered against Brittany's lips. Biting her lip against another moan, Brittany nodded, and Santana immediately left to heave open the trunk. It was much harder to put the wheelbarrow back than it had been to take it out, but the thought of what awaited them once they got home seemed to give them each extra strength, and they were able to get all of their breadsticks safely into the car. Santana closed the trunk and gave Brittany another quick kiss before they went around to separate sides of the car.

"What are we going to do with all of those breadsticks?" Brittany asked as she took her seat.

"Oh, I'm sure we can think of a few things," Santana said, turning towards Brittany and giving her a suggestive wink. Brittany shuddered with excitement, and Santana started to lean in to kiss her again. But there was something Brittany needed to clear up first.

"So I told you I loved you," Brittany reminded Santana. "Did that kiss mean…that you love me too?"

Santana paused for a moment. She seemed to struggle internally for a few moments. "I think so," she said finally. "I think I really, really do, I just don't know if I can…" She trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Say it out loud?" Brittany supplied helpfully.

"Yeah," Santana replied. She looked at Brittany with hopeful eyes. "But I want to be with you. I've always wanted you. I'm just not very good at feelings. But they're there, Brittany, I promise. Is that okay?"

Brittany's face split into a smile. "Of course it's okay," she said. "It's more than okay." She leaned across the center console and wrapped Santana into a hug. "You're amazing," she said, burying her face in the other girl's hair.

"You're amazing too," Santana said, her voice heavy with emotion. They hugged like that for several minutes before pulling away from each other. Brittany strapped her seatbelt and Santana made to start the car. But as she began to put the keys into the ignition, she stopped suddenly. "What was her name?" she asked.

"What?" Brittany frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"The manager. What was her name?"

"Uh…" Brittany struggled to remember. "Anne Summers?"

"Right," Santana said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her cell phone. She began to scroll through her phone book.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked.

"Oh, just calling the corporate office," Santana said with a smirk. She found the number she was looking for and pressed send, holding her phone to her ear. "I'm gonna get that bitch fired."