Have you ever wondered what happens between Brittana after they went running through the halls away from watching Will and Emma "rehearse" the "Touch-A, Touch Me" song in the classroom...

When they come through the door of Brittany's bedroom, Santana immediately grabs Brittany to her. Santana just holds her there; with every inch of Brittany's body pressed against hers. Santana looks up slightly at the girl who is a few inches taller than her; the warmth of Santana's exhales falls on Brittany's face.

"What?" Brittany replies to the unasked question that Santana has in her deep brown eyes. Santana leans in for a kiss her, but Brittany draws her head away and says, "I'm still mad at you from the other day, but you're totally making me hot right now."

Santana kisses her lightly until Brittany pulls away again saying, "I'm serious. All of this" – using her finger to draw an imaginary circle around her body – "is off limits."

"Then why did you invite me over?" Santana teases.

"I didn't. You followed me home."

"True," Santana confesses. "It's just that…after what we saw, well it kind of left me feeling funny inside, like, in an awkward kind of way."

Brittany gives Santana a questioning look.

"Well, we just saw Ms. Pillsbury, the perpetually startled rabbit, dry hump Mr. Shue who is now probably suffering from blue balls because you know that Pollyanna's tighter than a cinched drawstring bag. Aside from being totally weirded out, I'm surprisingly turned on."

Brittany thinks about it and answers, "Ya, me too. It's like my body's saying 'yes'. But my brain is like… 'maybe'."

"I could work with 'maybe'," Santana says flirtatiously, hugging Brittany closer to her.

"No," Brittany says finally breaking free of Santana's embrace.

"Fine. I'm leaving," Santana pulls open the bedroom door and steps just outside of Brittany's view but doesn't walk away. And like clockwork – Santana literally counts down five seconds – Brittany calls out, "No, wait."

Letting Santana back into her room, Brittany orders Santana to, "Sit down." - pointing decidedly in the direction of her bed.

Doing her best to conceal her delight, Santana sits, as ordered, with her back straight and her hands folded neatly in her lap. With the best menacing stare she could manage, Brittany straddles Santana forcing her to lie back onto the bed. Taking her by the wrists, Brittany glides Santana's arms along the sheets, above her head and pins her. Brittany bears her full weight on Santana's hips to ensure she won't be able to get away and also because...Brittany thinks, this feels good.

"I'm so mad at you for not singing a duet with me," Brittany says.

"Get over it Brittany. We wouldn't have won anyway. It was rigged," Santana says dismissively, enjoying every second of being restrained by her friend.

"That's not the point. Anyway, because of you," Brittany scolds. "I got a chance to know Artie. He's really nice, you know, for a guy who I thought was a robot."

"Please, Artie?" Santana snaps. "Whatever. You popped his broke ass cherry and he dumped you as a duet partner because you were just using him to get a free meal at Breadsticks."

"How did you –? Who told – "

"It doesn't matter," Santana abruptly interrupts.

"At least Artie said nice things to me," Brittany defends. "Santana, like, when I'm with you, you make me feel smart –"

"Wait," Santana interrupts, "Was that a compliment?"

"And so," Brittany continues. "I get confused when you say things that make me feel bad. And the reason why you wouldn't sing with me, made me feel bad."

After a thoughtful sigh Santana says, "All right then, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." Brittany says as a forgiving smile forms across her face. "So what do we do now?"

"I have an idea," Santana says slyly. "But you have to get off me."

Brittany hesitates as she looks down at Santana, who lays helpless, still and ever so pretty under her.

"I could get used to this," Brittany says. "Being the boss of you." She reluctantly unstraddles Santana and sits on the bed beside her.

"Give me your hand," Santana says as she cozies up beside Brittany, shoulder to shoulder.

With her finger, Santana traces something in Brittany's open palm.

"That tickles," Brittany squirms.

"Stop moving," Santana playfully scolds. "Guess what letter I'm writing."

"Do it again," Brittany smiles. Santana complies. Brittany says, "T."

"Here's another one," Santana says, as she traces the next letter on Brittany's wrist.

Brittany takes a minute to think about it and asks, "Are you trying to trick me?"

"What?"

"That's not a letter," Brittany says. "That's a shape. That was a circle."

Impatiently, Santana asks, "What letter looks just like a circle, Brittany?"

"Oh," Brittany thinks aloud, then responds. "O!"

"Next," Santana says as she traces another letter on Brittany's forearm.

"U," Brittany says. "I'm good at this."

The next letters Brittany guesses are "C", "H", "M" and "E" which Santana manages to spell all the way up to Brittany's shoulder.

"Soooo…" Santana says as she sensually walks her fingers back down Brittany's arm. "What does it spell?"

"'Touch me'?" Brittany asks.

"Touch me," Santana confirms.

"Aaaah…" Brittany nods in agreement. "Touch me."

As Santana looks Brittany square in the eye with a sheepish grin, Santana unabashedly separates her knees apart, leading to the path of every boy's – and girl's – wet dream. With a shudder of her shoulders and a twinkle in her eye, Santana whispers, "I wanna be dirty."

And when Brittany's hand disappears under the pleats of Santana's uniform, her fingers are just a thin strip of fabric away from understanding exactly what Santana means.