Santana really isn't sure just how Quinn managed to invite herself to join them for New Year. She sure didn't ask her to, and she's pretty sure Brittany didn't either. It's only been six weeks since she was last in town, and her ribs have only just fully healed after that visit. And yeah, she's chosen to blame Quinn for everything that happened on that night. To make matters worse she had thought Quinn was only flying in tomorrow, on New Year's Eve, then at least she would have only had to put up with her company for a couple of days at most, but no such luck as Quinn phoned her a few hours ago to ask her to meet her at some bar after she finished work.

When she arrives, she hears Quinn's voice before she sees her. What's more surprising is she also hears Puck's voice, the two of them having a heated debate about something. She fights her way through the crowd, following their voices and finds them, leaning against the bar. They don't seem to have spotted her yet, so she hangs back to listen to their conversation.

"You'd not supposed to interfere." Puck is pretty much in Quinn's face, his arms flailing around to make his point.

"How did you even know I'd be here?"

"Rachel told me."

"I can't believe her. She was all for me coming here."

"Yeah, well guess she had a crisis of conscience or something. She wants to win this fair and square. Not have you fix it."

"I'm not fixing it."

"Really? You just decide to come see Santana out of the blue? It's all just a coincidence?"

"Listen, Puck, I don't give a damn about your stupid bet."

"What bet?" They both spin around at the sound of Santana's voice, and she's sure they both pale slightly to see her standing right behind them, hand on her hip. "Well?" Neither of them will even look at her. "I swear to god, if one of you doesn't start explaining what the hell this is all about, then..."

They glance at each other quickly, as if silently debating who has to tell her. Apparently it's Quinn that loses. "Puck's been running a book."

She doesn't like where this is going. "On what exactly?"

"On when you'd propose to Brittany."

Puck shoves his hands in his pockets. "Quinn started it."

"How exactly did I start it?" Quinn scowls at him.

"You're the one who bet me that she'd do it before the end of the year."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who opened it up to everyone we know."

Santana feels like she needs a drink right now, or at least to sit down. "You jerks have all been betting on this? All this time?" She takes a step towards Puck, who tries to back away but he's trapped between her and the bar. "Is that why you set my house on fire?" She rounds on Quinn. "And why you were pushing me so much to propose? Pretending that you just wanted to help because you were my friend and you cared about me and Brittany?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No, that wasn't..."

"God, you two must think I'm fucking stupid." Santana keeps her attention on Quinn. She'd expect this kind of thing from Puck, but Quinn, it hurts more than she'd like to admit that she would play her like this. "Is you life really that empty and pathetic, that you need to get your kicks from screwing around with mine? Are you so sad and lonely that you have nothing better to do with your time?" Some voice in her head is yelling at her to stop talking, that lashing out at Quinn like this won't help anyone, but she needs some release for her anger. The alternative is to go all Lima Heights on Puck, but she doesn't think her ribs are quite healed enough for that yet. "You walk around acting all high and mighty, like you're better than everyone else because you went to Yale and you've got some high powered job, that nobody understands what it is you even do by the way. But you know what, Fabray? You're still the same manipulative scheming bitch you were in high school. Quinn Fabray the fucking Ice Queen. Nobody sticks around you for long because if they did they'd probably end up freezing to death."

She expects the slap, she deserves it afterall, so it's no surprise when Quinn's palm collides with her face. It still stings though.

Quinn looks like she wants to say something, but then instead just pushes past her, heading towards the bathroom.

Santana sinks down onto a bar stool, resting her head in her hands.

"Dude, what the hell?" Puck's frowning at her, disapproval in his eyes, and that makes her feel even worse. "You were out of line, way outta line."

"Yeah." She can't argue with that.

"Listen, I only started the bet afterwards. When you didn't propose. And Quinn, she was the one who had faith in you, you know? She was convinced you'd pull your head out of your ass and ask Brittany before tomorrow night. I'm the one who thought you didn't have the balls to do it." He sits down beside her. "I'm the only one who thought that. Everyone else all bet that you'd have done it by now. Except for Rachel who was convinced you'd wait until New Year's Eve so it'd be all romantic and shit." He sighs. "For once, I really wish I wasn't right."

He shouts over the barman, orders two beers and hands her one. "You're an idiot."

Santana pauses, bottle half way to her mouth. She slowly places it back on the bar and turns on the stool to shoot Puck her best death glare. "Excuse me?"

He takes a long drink of his own beer. "You heard me." Apparently he feels the need to repeat himself anyway. "You're an idiot."

As if she didn't feel bad enough as it was, now she's sitting in a bar about to start drowning her sorrows, and being called an idiot by Noah Puckerman of all people.

"How long you been carrying that fucking ring around with you now?"

Too long. Far too long if she's honest. "What's your point?"

"That it's time to man up, Lopez." He places a hand on her shoulder. "Though it would be really awesome if you waited until after midnight tomorrow to do it. Then I'd still win the bet." When she glares at him again, he just shrugs. "What? I kinda need the money. Now are you gonna go check on Quinn, or am I gonna have to do it? Because I will, but me wandering into the ladies bathroom usually only ends in me being kicked out of the place. Or arrested."

"I'll go." She climbs to her feet and slowly walks over to the bathroom. She opens the door to find Quinn leaning against one of the sinks, wiping at her eyes. Santana lets the door fall closed behind her, but stays hovering near it, just in case she needs to make a quick getaway. "Okay, so I'm kind of a bitch. Q, you've known me long enough to know that."

"Yeah, I know. I guess sometimes I forget though, and think that you might just have grown up finally. Guess not. You're still the same old Santana, who's too scared of what everyone else thinks about her to go after the things she really wants in life."

"That's not..."

Quinn spins around to face her. "Then why haven't you asked her by now? Doesn't it bother you how it always takes you so long to do anything? You and Brittany should have been together since Freshman year, but no, it took you three years of High School before you got your act together. And now you've had years to propose and you're still putting it off."

Quinn has a point, but she doesn't plan on admitting that to her face. "How is this all on me? There's nothing to have stopped Brittany being the one to propose. I don't even know if she wants to marry me."

"Of course she wants to marry you."

"Yeah? Then why hasn't she asked me, Quinn?"

"Because she's waiting for you to ask her, you idiot."

Santana stumbles back slightly, feeling as if Quinn has slapped her again. "What?"

Quinn sighs, runs a hand over her face. "Nothing, forget I said anything."

"No, Quinn, why would she be waiting for me to ask her?"

Quinn stares at her for several seconds, as if debating whether to tell her the truth or not. "She found the ring."

"What? When?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, of course it fucking matters."

"No, it doesn't. Just trust me when I say she wants to marry you."

Santana leans back against the door, her mind replaying dozens of conversations she's had with Brittany, searching for any hints that Brittany had known about her plans, wondering how many times she's unknowingly disappointed Brittany by backing out at the last second. "You say that, but ring or no ring, if she really wanted to marry me, she could still have asked me. Why didn't she, Quinn?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I've never understood Brittany's logic. There's only you that has ever been able to figure her out."

Santana's silent for a moment while she thinks about it. "Because she doesn't want to marry me. What other reason is there?"

"God, you two are driving me crazy. After all these years, are you really both still so insecure in your relationship?" She scowls at Quinn and is about to argue, but Quinn just holds up a hand to silence her. "Well I've had enough. I'm sick of waiting and waiting to be Maid Of Honor at my best friends' wedding. I even set up the perfect proposal scenario for you and you still managed to screw it up."

"Hold up, just remind me who set my house on fire?"

Quinn dismisses her comment with a wave. "Now you're just making excuses. I came here tonight to try and convince you to just ask her. And okay, so maybe I really, really don't want to loose the bet, but I also don't want to see you let another year end without doing this. I care too much about you to let that happen, okay?"

Santana wraps her arms around herself, and once again sinks back against the door. "You sure she wants to marry me?"

"Yes." Quinn shakes her head. "And just so you know Rachel has already picked out three songs that she will be singing at your wedding reception. And you'll be pleased to know only two of them are Barbra songs."

"Great, that's just great."

"And Sam's going to write you two a song, as he says he never did repay you for Trouty Mouth."

"Have you like planned my entire wedding, Quinn?"

Quinn shrugs. "Somebody had to, seeing as you're incapable of even planning the proposal, and besides it's kind of my job as the Maid of Honor."

Santana somehow senses she won't get anywhere arguing with her right now, not unless she wants to have to deal with Scary Quinn, and she really doesn't have the energy for that.

"Santana, if you want this to happen, all you have to do is ask her"

It all sounds so simple when Quinn says it like that. "So who wins the bet if I do it today?"

She goes home to find the kitchen, well trashed is the only word for it. Pots and pans and various cooking utensils are scattered across the counters, fill the sink. There's a faint smell of burning and a layer of flour covers most of the room, including Brittany, who's currently busy stirring some strange looking mixture in a bowl. She's so focused on the task that she hasn't even noticed Santana enter.

Santana leans in the doorway and just takes in the carnage before her. "Britt, whatcha doing?"

Brittany jumps at the sound of her voice, immediately looking guilty. "You're home."

"Yeah."

"I thought I'd have time to clean up before you got back." The mixture is giving Brittany some trouble, and she gives up trying to make it move like she wants it to and sets the bowl down on the counter. "I wanted to bake something for the party tomorrow. Everyone else always brings food and we just always bring chips and dip."

Santana can't help smiling. "But the chips and dip are the most awesome thing you can take, babe. Minimum effort and a guaranteed success. I mean who doesn't love chips and dip?"

Brittany doesn't look convinced. "I know, but I just wanted to show that we can do more than that."

"And how'd that work out for ya?"

Brittany gestures towards two baking trays that are stood on the counter behind her and Santana walks over to inspect them. The fact that she can't even tell what the contents are supposed to be is not a good sign. They could be cupcakes, or maybe some sort of deformed muffins, she really can't be sure. It doesn't help that one tray has been burnt to resemble chargrilled rocks, and the others, well she's no expert baker, but she thinks they should have risen at least a little bit. "They don't look too bad." She has a really bad feeling that she's going to have to at least try one of them and she can feel her stomach protest at the thought.

"San, you don't have to lie. They suck."

"Yeah, sorry, Britt, but they kinda do." She feels Brittany's arms wrap around her waist and she leans back into the embrace, not even caring that she's probably getting flour all over her right now. "But hey, maybe third time lucky." She nods towards the bowl that Brittany has abandoned.

"I dunno. I think I've only ended up making cement."

"Well that has to count for something, right?" She turns her head so that she can capture Brittany's lips in a soft, slow kiss.

When she pulls away, she finds Brittany frowning at her, then she asks, "San, are you okay?"

"I just really love you, you know that right?" She hopes Brittany does, she at least tries to make sure that she does. "And I just want to tell you how happy you make me, how much I love my life."

"I know."

"It's just sometimes..." She swallows, not sure she can do this with Brittany gazing so intently at her, so she moves out of her grasp, putting some distance between them. "Do you ever want more than all this?"

Brittany turns to face her, and Santana knows she isn't sure what she's talking about. "Do you mean like us having kids?"

She's sure her heart stops at the very thought of that. In fact she might just be about to have a panic attack. She can't even work up the nerve to ask Brittany to marry her, how is she going to ever get her act together enough to be a mother.

Brittany must notice how she's frozen, as her face is now full of worry and she takes a step towards her. "Okay, so you didn't mean kids."

"I need to sit down." She hadn't meant children, but that's all part of it. Part of the worry that she will never be able to give Brittany everything she wants.

She finds herself being guided into the living room where Brittany sits her down on the sofa. "Santana, what's going on?" Brittany kneels down in front of her, resting her hands on her thighs, and all Santana can think is it's supposed to be her down on one knee.

"Sometimes I just worry that this isn't enough for you, that you deserve more." She finds she can't even bring herself to meet Brittany's gaze, so instead she stares at her hands that she has clasped together in her lap. Her eyes are already starting to water and she can't allow herself to cry right now, she just can't.

"Don't." Brittany reaches out and gently tilts her chin, forcing her to look at her. "We've been through this. I don't want more. I don't need more. I just want you."

"But what if I want more?" Brittany's face falls at that, and Santana can't miss the panic in her eyes. "Shit, no, I didn't mean..." She's screwing this all up again, she now has Brittany thinking she doesn't want to be with her at all and she knows she needs to act fast to fix this. She slides off the sofa, pushing the coffee table backwards slightly to give herself more room. If she's going to do this, then she's going to do it properly, so she shifts so she's on one knee. So she has no idea what she's going to say. Hasn't Brittany always said she's found it cute when she rambles? Well hopefully that's still true. She takes both of Brittany's hands in hers and takes a deep breath.

"Wait." There's still panic in Brittany's eyes and Santana can feel what little confidence she'd managed to work up slipping away from her. "You don't have to do this."

"Do you not want to?" Her voice is a lot smaller than she'd have liked, and she can't seem to stop it from shaking. She's going to kill Quinn for convincing her that Brittany wanted this as much as she did.

"No, I do, of course I do, Santana." Brittany pulls one hand free from hers and rests it against her chest, over her heart. "But I just need to know that it's what you want. Because you've never seemed sure before, and I want you to be sure. Because if you're not, it's okay. It's okay. I can wait. I will always wait for you. I will never get tired of waiting for you."

"But what if I am? What if I'm tired of waiting?"

"Yeah?" There's a hopeful look in Brittany's eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips.

She nods. "Yeah."

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

She can do that, except maybe she can't, as once again she finds she has no idea what to say. She tries to think back to that damn speech Quinn had forced her to memorise the last time she'd been planning on doing this, but whilst she can still remember it, the words are all Quinn's, or Berry's actually, and now they feel all wrong. She sighs, wipes at her eyes, determined not to start crying at least. "God, I suck at this. I don't have a fucking clue what to say."

"Yes, you do." Brittany brings her hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles. "You can do this."

"I don't have the ring on me." Her eyes dart towards the staircase and she wonders if she should quickly run to get it before even trying to go any further.

Brittany kisses her hand again. "Doesn't matter."

"I should..."

"You're stalling."

Maybe she is. "I..."

"Santana, you can do this. I know you can do this."

She's never felt like she could, that's always been the problem, but the way Brittany is looking at her right now, with nothing but love and adoration, and patience, she can't forget the patience, well maybe for the first time she's starting to believe that she might actually be able to go through with it. "I love you." She starts simple, with the truth. "I've never loved anyone else, and I never will love anyone else. It's always been all about you for me, Brittany." Her hands are shaking now and Brittany must notice as she takes them in her own again.

Santana pauses, but after inhaling deeply, she continues, "And I've always known that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. We had to, because I knew I could never live without you. I could never even begin to picture my life without you in it." Even thinking about that now starts the tears falling and this time she doesn't bother to try and stop them. "And I've always known that we're endgame, baby, we've always been endgame, but now I want everyone else to know it too. I want to be able to tell people, this is my wife, Brittany. We promised each other forever a long time ago, but I want to stand up in front of all our friends and family, everyone we know, and even all the stupid Glee Club because I know how much it'd mean to you to have them there, and make that promise again." She actually finds the thought of doing that kind of terrifying now that she thinks of it, but she knows she'd do it for Brittany. "Or you know, we could do it on a beach somewhere, that'd be okay too. Preferably without a single witness around. Except for Quinn, as apparently she has to be my Maid of Honor. Or your Maid of Honor. Or both. I'm not too sure." She shakes it off, she can worry about Quinn later.

"So what I'm trying to say is..."

"Yes." Brittany flings herself forward, wrapping her arms around Santana's neck.

Santana struggles to stop them both from falling backwards to the floor. "What?"

"Yes. I'll marry you."

Santana raises an eyebrow, but can't help smiling. "Seriously? After all that you're not even going to let me ask the actual question?"

Brittany blushes and sinks back onto her knees. "Sorry. Guess I got a little over excited. Go on."

"Okay, Brittany S Pierce, I love you, and for some completely unknown reason, you love me, so will you make it official? Will you marry me?"

She's ready this time for when Brittany throws herself forward, but not for the urgent way Brittany begins kissing her, and this time she can't keep them upright. Her back hits the carpet with a soft thud, and the next thing she knows Brittany is straddling her. When Brittany finally releases her lips and instead starts peppering kisses across her jaw and her neck, she shivers. "What are you doing?"

"Having engagement sex with my fiancée."

"Erm, Britt?"

Brittany pulls away slightly so she can make eye contact with her. "Yeah?"

"You didn't answer." She attempts to pout, but knows it never normally gets her anything other than an eye roll.

"I did answer."

"Yeah, you answered before I asked, but you didn't answer after I asked."

"What?"

She knows what she means. It's not her fault if she can't think clearly enough to explain it right now, it's Brittany's for kissing her like that. "It'd be nice if you answered properly, that's all."

There it is, the eyeroll, but Brittany sits back up, pulling Santana with her. "Santana Lopez, you are the most awesome person on this whole planet. Probably on any planet actually. And I am so lucky that you decided you wanted to spend your life with me. And I never thought it was possible, but I love you more now than I've ever done. Of course I want to marry you. I've always wanted to marry you. And someday when you stop freaking out every time I mention it, I want to have a family with you."

The panic's still there at the thought of children, but for some reason all of a sudden the idea doesn't seem quite as scary as it once did. "One step at a time, Britt, one step at a time."

Brittany smiles, shaking her head slightly. "I'm okay with that. I told you, I'll always wait for you."

Santana leans forward so she can press their foreheads together. "I love you."

"I love you."

They stay like that for a while, just grinning at each other, but then Brittany nudges her. "Now can we have engagement sex?"

"What kind of fiancée would I be, if I denied you anything you asked?" As Brittany lowers her to the ground, all she can think is how much she likes that word. Fiancée But she can't help thinking she likes the word wife a whole lot more, and it might have taken them a hell of a long time to get this far, but now that they're here, she's determined to never make Brittany wait that long for anything again. If that means a wedding and kids by this time next year, well maybe she just might be okay with that.

AN: I just want to say thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read this fic, especially those who've reviewed or added it to Favorite Story or Story Alert. You guys are awesome.

It's ended up a lot longer than originally planned, but sometimes Santana refuses to get her act together when you want her to. Quite a few people were questioning Brittany's motivation, so I might be tempted to write a companion piece at some point from Britt's POV. We shall see.

Thanks again, guys.