Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10.7k
Summary: She doesn't want to creep around Brittany and tread the water to see if she can trust her; she wants to dive straight in because she's never met someone like Brittany. She's never wanted to know so much about a person after meeting them for the first time and she's never wanted to tell someone everything about herself either.

Warnings: Girl!Peen

Notes: Okay, you might get a bit confused with the first chapter of this but as it goes on you'll find out what's happening. It's my new G!P Santana fic so lets see how we go :)

/

December 2015

"Get up."

Santana rolls over on to her stomach, burying her face into her pillow and grunts into it, otherwise ignoring her best friend. She really has no intention of going out and for some reason Quinn's still here, rummaging through her closet and finding her an outfit that she's not going to wear. She's not going to go, like seriously not going to go, so Quinn might as well just give up otherwise Santana foresees a slap heading her way.

"Stop moping and get up!"

"No." It comes out muffled and Santana lays still, hoping that her best friend's given up and left. If only she were that lucky, though. "I don't want to go out."

"You're 21, Santana. Live a little."

"I just broke up with my girlfriend, Fabray," she groans, twisting on to her back and stretching her hands up until her knuckles bump the headboard. "So leave me to 'mope' and get your frigid ass out my apartment and go get laid." Quinn gives her a look, and she rolls her eyes. She doesn't regret being a bitch. Especially when she's just been woken up. "Or whatever you do with your spare time. I don't care—" she twists on her front again, nose pressing against the mattress "—just whatever it is, make sure it's without me. I don't want to go out." She picks her arm up and bends it backwards, waving Quinn off blindly. "So shoo."

"You're being pathetic."

Santana lifts her head and turns it enough to glare. "And you're being annoying."

Quinn chuckles and crosses her arms, lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You're coming out," she states and Santana drops her head again.

"No. I'm. Not."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," Santana shakes her head and lets out an angry exhale, shuffling up the bed and twisting until she's sitting back against the headboard. She might as well face the girl if she isn't going to leave her alone.

Fuck. She doesn't get why Quinn won't just do that though. Santana really doesn't want to go out, and she's pretty sure she's never meant it as much as she does now. She knows she's said it before to Quinn and the only reason she didn't want to go then was because she couldn't be bothered, but right now she has a few reasons why she doesn't want to go; all of which include heartache, an ex-girlfriend and a bottle of Russian vodka hiding beneath her sink. She doesn't actually think she's ever wanted to go out less than she does right now, and that's really saying something.

Quinn's still glaring at her though with that 'I'm going to get you out' look that really pisses Santana off, and she knows she's only getting it because she's spent the last four days in the apartment and hasn't even bothered to go downstairs and get her damn mail, but so fucking what? She's an adult. She knows what she's doing and okay, it's a little strange that she's been a complete hermit for the past few days but she's allowed to be. She broke up with her girlfriend for fuck sake and yeah, it wasn't a long-term relationship, but it was still six months and considering Santana's record, that's pretty fucking long so she's upset.

"I'm really not going out," she says, pointedly as her expression drops. "So please, could you just—I don't know—fuck off?"

Quinn uncrosses her arms and looks down at Santana disapprovingly. "No. We're best friends, out of choice, so I'm not leaving unless you're coming with me."

"Well making you my best friend was obviously poor decision-making on my behalf."

"Shut up and get up."

"No."

Quinn steps towards her, glaring down with sharp hazel eyes. "Get up or I'll make you."

It's not an empty threat either. She and Quinn have been friends since freshman year in high school and Quinn's never put up with any of Santana's bullshit. She'll do what she says, and Santana's knows that her friend would literally drag her out of bed because that's just what they're like. They argue, fight, and call each other out on the dumb things they do in their life, not even bothering to hold back and protect each others feelings because they both figure there's no point.

If you're going to say something, say it straight and mean what you say. There's no beating around the bush between them and she guesses it's kind of why they've lasted so long as best friends; they're just so damn similar.

She is kind of grateful for Quinn though—not that'd she'd ever say out loud—because she's never met anyone that was willing to stick around for longer than six months. Without Quinn, she'd pretty much be fucked so yeah, she is sort of thankful for her best friend.

So because of that, she lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. "Fine," she growls, shifting out of bed and grabbing the outfit in Quinn's hands but pausing to glare at her whilst they're still holding each side of the fabric. "But if I say I want to go home, we're going, okay?"

Quinn just smirks, nods and Santana yanks the clothes free as she storms off to the bathroom.

/

Turns out, the night isn't that bad.

Santana found a girl, bought her a drink and they spent a good hour just chatting away, hands brushing over bare skin and eyelashes batting in attempt to flirt. Quinn eyes her from the other end of the bar, where she's standing with a tall guy with a mohawk—so lame—and mouths 'told you so' which just makes Santana want to slap her. But she has to admit, maybe her best friend was right; this girl she's talking to is hot and funny and who knows? Maybe Santana will get laid tonight. Good old rebound sex has never failed her.

Anyway, it all goes well, and when a particular song blasts through the speakers, the girl—Marley? She thinks—grabs her by the hand and leads her over to the dance floor, hands coming up to her neck and hips swaying with the beat. They get close and personal and Santana smirks as Marley leans in but then she decides to be a tease and pulls away.

It's supposed to be flirtatious because she's supposed to pull Marley into her afterward and kiss her as an apology, but as she jerks backwards away from the kiss she knows Marley wants to give her, she doesn't see where she's going and backs straight into someone else.

Real fucking smooth.

She spins around, hands stretching out in front of her to catch whoever it is but it's too late, and the girl she ran into is now sprawled out, face down, on the dance floor. The music is too loud for the girl to hear Santana apologizing and fuck, she feels seriously guilty now and so she bends down, one hand resting on the girls back and the other grabbing at her wrist. She swears she always makes a complete dick of herself when she's trying to impress a girl.

"Shit, I'm sorry—I didn't see you," she blurts out, handling the blonde girl gently. "Are you hurt?"

The girl pulls back up but she's holding her forehead and Santana can see the beginning of a bruise forming on the other girls pale skin. Shit. If she hadn't tried to be a tease she could not only be making out with Marley right now, but she wouldn't have damaged some random person.

She's such a fucking idiot sometimes.

"My head," the blonde girl groans, wincing continuously. "It hurts."

Santana bites down on her bottom lip and looks around as if someone will come and help but no-one does, so she just ends up helping this girl up. It's dark, apart from the random spurts of bright lights that most definitely aren't epileptic friendly, and so she can't really see the girl or the extent of the damage done, so she leaves Marley behind, mouthing an apology to her as she looks toward the bar, wondering what she could get back there and whether there's an upstairs bar since the downstairs one is packed.

Ice. That'd be good.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Do you wanna go and get some ice?"

The blonde girl nods weakly and Santana peers over her shoulder to look back at Marley, shooting her another apologetic glance before pressing her hand to the small of the blonde girls back and ushering her off the dance floor and up the stairs she spots toward the bar up there.

/

They're seated by the bar in the very corner, away from the majority of people there, and Santana's just come back with a plastic cup full of ice and a handful of tissue paper. She must have apologized at least fifty times on the way up here and now she's sort of stuck on what to do. It's not like she can apologize any more but she still feels fucking guilty.

Maybe she'll just buy her a drink or something, make it up to her like that. Not that a glass of wine or a cocktail is enough payback for shoving some girl to the floor but it was a freaking accident and she's kind of hoping this girl doesn't sue her or anything, although she has to admit that really would just be the cherry on top of the freaking cake for her day.

So, anyway, she slides on to the stool, turning on it to face the blonde and juggling the items around in her hand. "I'm so sorry," she says for like, the millionth time. "I was dancing and I didn't look behind me when I stepped, and I should've but I didn't. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head at herself, wrapping up a few pieces of ice in the tissue paper and holding it up to the girls hairline where her skin's tinting with a green, purple color. That looks like it's going to hurt in the morning.

"How are you feeling?" She whispers when the girl hisses as the ice touches her.

It's at that moment that the girl looks up for the first time and Santana's breath instantly catches in her throat. This girl has the most amazing blue eyes, and as Santana's own eyes roam around her face, taking in every detail, tracing over the bridge of her nose, over the high curve of her cheekbones and down along her sharp jaw line to sumptuous pink lips, she wonders how the hell she didn't realize earlier how fucking gorgeous this girl is. She looks like something of the front of a damn magazine.

"Yeah..." The girl breathes and Santana exhales at the same time a smile tugs at her lips.

Their eyes meet and the corners of her lips curve up even further the longer they stare at each other. Honestly, she must have been blind not to have noticed this girl before; she's quite possibly the most beautiful girl Santana's ever seen in like, well, ever actually.

But the longer they stare, the more Santana's aware of this thing between them, something she can only think to describe as a spark. It's like there's chemistry, but it's stronger like that and she can actually feel herself being pulled to this girl. And shit, she's never been one for believing in bullshit like meeting someone and clicking with them instantly because that kind of stuff is saved for movies and books, but right now, she's going against everything she's ever believed in because this girl is proving her embarrassingly wrong.

"Yeah," the girl repeats again, just as breathless as before. "I'm okay now."

Brown eyes flicker between blue, and Santana feels something curdle within her and lets it go before she even knows what it is. "Santana," she blurts out, stilling and mentally face palming herself when she realizes what she just did.

Seriously, could she be any smoother?

The most adorable chuckle comes from the blonde girl and Santana finds herself laughing through her nose, too. A second later, she feels cool finger slide over the skin of her forearm, down her wrist and over her palm, grasping her hand and shaking it fully.

"Actually, my name's Brittany, but hey."

Santana can feel the blood rushing to her face at Brittany's touch and at the embarrassment of just blurting out her name randomly. Damn, tonight it's just like the God's are out to get her because she has zero game.

First of all she's falling over and knocking some chick to the ground, and the next she's trying to flirt and ending up looking like a complete idiot as she stares at the most beautiful girl she's ever seen and basically yells her own name at this girl. She really wouldn't be surprised if this girl just got up, took the ice and fucked off. Santana wouldn't blame or judge her if she did.

"Actually, I—uh, meant that," she dips her head, still mentally slapping herself. "My name is—"

"I know what you meant," Brittany teases releasing her hand and tilting her chin up, holding her stare.

There's something behind those blue eyes that just makes Santana feel so comfortable, and even though she's only just met this girl, she knows that she'd pretty much do anything for her right now, and honestly? That scares the absolute shit out of her. But it seems Brittany has no hesitations, or she just doesn't notice Santana's because she just grins, looking between Santana's eyes and tilting her head to the side like she's deliberating something, speaking a few seconds after staring deeply at her.

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

It's just a question, a simple fucking question but Santana's stumped. She knows it's ridiculous and if she were a child, her mom would be scalding her and telling her that she should never go with strangers, but there's something so trusting about Brittany. It feels like she knew her in another life, like she was best friends with her in another life and even though this girl's asking her to just leave Quinn, to get out of this place and go fuck knows where with her, Santana finds herself actually considering the offer.

But she doesn't want to seem to eager. She already has no game so she asks for clarification. "What?"

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Brittany repeats, a little lower and softer and Santana's eyebrows raise.

Yep, this girl is definitely asking her to go somewhere with her despite not knowing a thing about each other. This girl could be a serial killer, but for all this girl knows, Santana could be a serial killer or something too, picking up girls at clubs after pretending to push them over.

That just makes it stranger though, because if it were anyone else doing this, if Santana had ran into anyone else, no matter who they were, Santana would be scowling, throwing them a look of disgust and telling them how fucking crazy they are before she heads back to Quinn and demands to go home. If it were anyone else, she'd be shaking her head, pushing them away, maybe even laughing in their face because hell no would she ever just leave with a complete stranger unless she'd been flirting with them all night, knew a bit about them and was guaranteed some loving at the end of the night.

Yet she's sitting here with this girl, and she doesn't have a single impulse to reject this girl that seems to have come out of nowhere. There's just something so honest and innocent in Brittany's eyes, her smile, her expression. There's just something so trusting and Santana's finding it really fucking hard to pick out a reason why she would say no to this girls question.

Damn, she can't even pretend like there's a reason why she doesn't want to accept the offer because honestly, she can't think of anything better than getting out of here with Brittany.

And because of that, she finds herself exhaling and nodding at the same time, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

An enormous grin stretches across Brittany's face at the acceptance, and the hand Santana has on the blonde girls face slips off as Brittany slides off the stool, grabbing a tanned hand and clutching it tightly. Warmth spreads across Santana's palm, shoots up her arm and settles in her chest, and she glances down at the right moment to see long, slender fingers shifting and slightly through her own. The breath hitches in her throat at the movement, and she whips her head up to gauge Brittany's reaction and finds blue eyes staring straight back at her, shading with the same wonderment, awe and shock that Santana knows is reflecting in her own eyes.

Sliding off her own stool, Santana follows as Brittany begins leading them out the club, and just before they exit, she remembers Quinn and slows down a little, peering over the sea of people to find her friend still at the bar with the mohawked guy. Their eyes meet from across the room and hazel eyes flicker behind Santana's shoulder, taking note of the blonde Santana's with and she shoots Santana wink, which she responds to with a playful glare. Bitch. This had to happen on the only day Santana refused to go out. This had to happen on the day Quinn dragged Santana out of bed and shit, she's never going to hear the end of this now.

But before she can even think anymore about how Quinn's going to tease her for months, Brittany tugs gently on her hand and Santana stumbles out the doors the bouncers are holding open for them.

She forgets all about Marley.

/

"Um, why are we here?"

Brittany spins on her heel, bites her lip and grins, swinging Santana's hands in the space separating them. It's so ridiculously adorable that Santana finds herself grinning stupidly to herself as she gazes at this girl, wondering how the hell she could just walk into her life out of nowhere and have this effect on Santana. It's sort of really fucking hard to believe. Maybe she's dreaming.

"To skate obviously," the blonde interrupts her thoughts, blue eyes sparkling.

Glancing around the area, Santana looks to the trees, to the small cute little refreshment stand and then to the giant ice rink below them. It's almost 10pm, and she's sure the rink closes at this time but a few people are skating, some on their own and some in couples, so she just bites her lip and admires it, thinking that actually, despite Brittany being a complete stranger, this is probably one of the most fucking romantic things anyone's ever done for her.

"Come on," Brittany whispers excitedly, tugging on tanned hands as she leads them down the stairs and toward the main entrance.

Much to Santana's surprise, they skip by the box office—where she's sure they're supposed to pay—with a well-timed wink at the guy behind the desk from Brittany who turns a dark shade of pink immediately. He ducks his head, waving his hand and Santana almost rolls his eyes because this girl seems to have everyone as putty in their hands. But they don't stop there, just continue skipping away, Brittany giggling, until they reach the side of the ice rink.

By now, Santana's breathing hard and heavy, her peripheral vision picking up on the clouds of breath coming out from within her as her eyes roam around the ice rink, fingers clutching on to the railings as she gazes, and she's so into it that she doesn't even notice Brittany's left her side.

Instead she thinks about how she's never really been ice skating. When she was younger she used to go with her friends (a bonus of living in New York for winter was the Rockefeller Center Ice Rink) but she was always the one who would sit out on the benches and refuse to go on the ice. She had this irrational fear—or rational, who knows?—that she'd fall over and smash her front teeth in, or like, fall and slice her hand open on the bottom of her ice skate and have to go to ER to get stitches.

(Don't laugh, that actually happened to one of her friends once.)

She was always just too scared to go on the ice and she never fully trusted any of her friends enough to let them guide her around because knowing them, they would've let her go and let her fall flat on her ass, and she just wasn't down with that.

Seconds later, Brittany pops up beside her, clutching two pairs of ice skates and biting down on her lip as she offers out the pair of skates in her left hand. Santana eyes them warily for a second, wondering whether they're her size when she cranes her neck and sees the print on the back of the shoe. They're exactly the right size and she glances up through her lashes, smiling gratefully but curiously. How did Brittany know her shoe size?

"I'm not a stalker or anything," Brittany chimes in, grinning. Santana just cocks her head to the side, intrigued. "My first job was at my uncle's shoe shop and after working there for a while you just sort of learn to size people up."

Ah. There we go. Okay good. Brittany's not a stalker.

"Oh, right," Santana breathes, nodding and finding herself completely fascinated by this girl. This stranger.

Fuck. What is wrong with her?

"Yeah," Brittany beams back, her eyes sparkling as snow begins falling around them. "Now let's get our skates on and get out on the ice."

Santana gulps, but does as she's told.

/

Within ten minutes, Brittany's already glided around the rink flawlessly at least seven times, and Santana's managed to make it half of the way round, has fallen on her ass seven times and has somehow regained her balance four other times after almost toppling over, but none of her dignity has come back with that.

So now she's clutching to the sides, her fingertips numb as they curl around the rails and okay, she hasn't fallen in the past five minutes, which should be a good sign, but it's not really when you compare that to how far she's traveled in those past five minutes; the total of which is less than five meters. But fuck it, she is not letting go of this rail without a fight.

God, this is so embarrassing.

"You know, you could let go of the sides."

Santana twists at the passing comment, trying to glare at Brittany but somehow she tips too far to the side and wobbles, her legs parting almost into a split until she has to throw an entire arm over the side, clutching it with all her might to keep her on her feet.

Behind her, Brittany laughs and there's the sound of metal slicing through ice as the blonde skids to a stop at her right, worryingly pale hands bracing the impact as the tips of Brittany's skates ram into the side to stop her.

"I would," Santana grumbles, using her arm muscles to pull herself back up again before she glances at Brittany, the scowl instantly slipping from her face and replacing with a smile when she sees bright eyes, pink ears and a pink nose. "But as you can see, I'm not exactly the most balanced person," she gestures to the sides but Brittany just giggles again, her face scrunching up adorably.

"Well, I'm pretty balanced so give me your hand," she says, pushing off from the side a little until she's standing freely on the ice and holding out a hand. "And trust me."

But Santana just looks at it, then looks back up into blue eyes, momentarily stilling at the other girls words.

See, the truth is, she's never really trusted anyone apart from Quinn because to her, trust is something that needs to be gained and so far in her life, no-one's stuck around long enough in her life to gain that trust; and so her instant reaction is to reject the hand and continue struggling her way around the rink. Except as the words form on her tongue, she realizes that they're not going to come out and finds herself having a hard time pushing past that barrier that's kept her away from so many people before.

Because or some reason, she seems to trust Brittany. She doesn't seem to hesitate as she slips her palm into Brittany's, allowing herself to be gently pulled away from the side until she has nothing but Brittany's arms and her own quivering knees to keep her up, and that's weird because she always hesitates with anything like this. It's just really fucking hard to do that when the person asking to be trusted is Brittany, with her innocent smile, her twinkling blue eyes and that soft look that makes Santana feel like she can put her trust in her.

Her feet slip a little as her thoughts process, and a spike of fear surges through her chest but Brittany's right there, hand squeezing her own, urging her eyes up and when she does, she finds instantly relief and proof that Brittany's not going to let her fall in deep blue. It's almost kind of frustrating because she's been waiting all her life to meet someone like Brittany and now she's just come along, with no warning or anything and just jumped into her life, and now Santana doesn't want her to leave it.

Which is really fucking strange because they've known each other for under two hours, but at this moment, she seems to find herself not really giving a crap.

This evening really is turning out to be the strangest one of her life. She wonders what else is to come.

"Stop focusing on skating so much," Brittany mutters, smiling softly as she weaves her long legs in and out as she skates backwards. She's definitely done this before. "Just talk to me and relax. If you're tense it won't work."

It's easy to say when you can skate, but Santana bites back the remark and swallows, nodding slowly. She breathes out through pursed lips and flexes her fingers against Brittany's, trying not to focus on what her legs are doing. She swears if she falls on her ass one more time she is so not getting up. She's already had enough embarrassment on this ice rink to last her a lifetime. Or at least like, two years or so.

"Okay, so..." She clears her throat, trying to relax her muscles and not focus on skating like Brittany said. "How come this place is open so late?" She asks, looking up from her feet to Brittany's face. She doesn't even remember looking down. "Wasn't it supposed to shut like, twenty minutes ago?"

"Yeah, but my brother-in-law manages this place," Brittany replies, slowly turning to the left and steadying Santana when she follows the movement and slips a little. "You okay?" She quickly interjects and Santana nods, earning a grin. "Okay, good. But yeah, my sister's husband runs this place and he always lets me come here after hours if I want to skate when no-one's around," she shrugs. "It gets kind of busy in the opening hours, so."

"That's pretty cool," Santana says, shuddering at the chill in the air.

Then all her focus goes to Brittany as the snow begins to fall a little heavier around them because somehow, it enhances Brittany's beauty. Don't get her wrong, Santana knows that the blondes beautiful without snow, but there's just something about the whiteness reflecting in her eyes, or how the cold air makes her nose and cheeks tinge pink that makes her gorgeous and adorable at the same time. It's some sort of paradox, because those two don't really fit together but it's true.

Although a few minutes later, when Brittany's cheeks begin to darken a little further, Santana realizes that it's not the cold doing that anymore, but rather Brittany's blushing because Santana's being the smoothest of smooths today and has been freaking staring at her for the past few minutes. So she glances away, blood rushing to her face as she tries to cough it out, instead turning her attention to the night sky as the snow falls from it. It's weird, because she's sure the weather report earlier didn't say that it was supposed to snow, but then again, many things have happened on this night that she didn't think would so she's not going to question it.

So instead she lets herself sink into this feeling, this night, Brittany, and looks back down to the blonde to find her smiling back at her, eyes bright and blue. There's something about winter and snow that makes people prettier—maybe it's the feeling both of those things bring—but for some reason she doesn't think that's what's enhancing the beauty Brittany possesses. She thinks that's just Brittany. With her glowing skin, freckled cheeks and sparkling sapphire eyes.

(Damn, she's so beautiful.)

"See? You didn't fall over and we've already done a few laps."

Santana blinks herself out her thoughts, coming back to reality. Her eyes flicker around her surroundings and she realizes that damn, she can actually skate. "Holy crap on a cracker," she breathes, her face stretching with an awed smile. "I can skate!"

The second those words leave her mouth, she realizes that she shouldn't of said that because it's just goddamn good to be true. And of course, because of that, as soon as her lips close, she gets so distracted by the softness of Brittany's smile, of Brittany's eyes, and distracted by the way Brittany's looking at her that she completely loses focus, manages to forget that she's on ice on thin ass skates and wobbles. She wobbles, panic and fear sets in, hot and sharp through her veins and instead of snapping her hands forward to clutch on to the other girl like she did the last time she stumbled, she leans back, tries to regain her balance by tensing and moving her feet and it turns out it's completely the wrong thing to do because she just... falls.

There's a split few seconds where she swears her life flashes before her eyes (okay, maybe a little dramatic but so what) but then she's falling backwards, her hands flailing into the air and moments later she's colliding heavily with the ice, ass first and then back second and she's groaning into the air as a dull ache begins to throb through several areas of her body.

And she's far too embarrassed by falling over in front of a girl she's trying to impress that she doesn't even give a damn that she's going to have some freaking huge bruises tomorrow morning.

Except as she pushes her palms to her eyes, covering her face and the tomato look she knows she's got going on, she also realizes that there's no sudden rush of comfort, or body by her side, hands peeling her own hands away to see if she's okay. There's no worried breaths or even a concerned "are you okay?" because the only thing there is, is something that she can only presume is a muffled chuckle. And so to confirm that, she split hers fingers, peeking through the tiny gap and finds Brittany, standing above her, with shining eyes and a hand covering her mouth to clearly stop her from laughing too loudly.

And well, Santana has to admit, she actually thinks she prefers this to further humiliation of Brittany bending down and offering to take her to the ER because she broke her ass because somehow the laughter manages to reduce the embarrassment she feels. So with that thought, she begins thinking about how utterly stupid she looked falling over, the expression on her face when she did so, and how she's here, just lying down on freaking cold ice and a freezing dampness that's slowly seeping in through her clothes, and begins laughing too, rolling her eyes playfully and looking away.

Because really, screw dwelling on the embarrassment of doing that. Why do that and become more embarrassed when you can totally just laugh it off?

"Are―" Brittany tries to ask something, but bursts of laughter keep pushing through her lips and interrupting it. "Are you—" she splutters again and turns away, taking a deep breath to try and get her to stop laughing, but Santana doesn't even both trying, just keeps laughing at herself. "Are you okay?" Brittany finally manages to get out and Santana suddenly focuses on the throbbing of her lower back and adds in a low whine.

"Ice is really hard," she groans through a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I just broke my ass."

Brittany bites her bottom lip and grins, the giggling beginning to die as she slowly crouches down and offers out a hand. "I think that's enough skating for you then," she says and reaches for Santana's hand, the grin on her face only growing when their skin touches. "Come on."

Santana allows herself to be pulled up and wraps her arms around Brittany's waist backwards when the girl spins so she can be dragged to the side without falling over again. Her hands tuck into the front pockets of the blondes jacket, and she nuzzles into Brittany's neck, smelling sweetness and something else that makes her whole chest fill with warmth and focusing on that instead of anything else.

She doesn't trip once.

/

"That'll be $4."

Santana digs out a ten dollar bill from her jacket and hands it to the cashier at the concession stand, telling him to keep the rest as a tip as she picks up the two cups of coffee just served. It was pretty lucky she managed to get these, because as she arrived at the stand the guy was just closing up, but she managed to convince him to serve her two cups of coffee and slipped him a $6 tip in the end so she's sure he doesn't mind that much.

She heads back over to the benches around the ice, back to the place she sure Brittany was but finds the bench void of a blonde. Her feet turn and she spins, eyebrows pulling together and eyes searching until she spots something in the middle of the ice rink, standing in the dead center, gazing up at the stars.

Something in her heart flutters and she tilts her head to the side to watch Brittany, wondering why she's in the middle of the ice rink with no skates on? Santana did tell her if she wanted to skate some more she wouldn't mind waiting by the side.

"Britt?" She calls, but there's a light wind and it carries her voice away. "Britt?" She tries again but it's no use. She's going to have to go over there.

Sucking her lips, she wipes her feet on the floor—convinced that'll help with the slipperiness of the ice—and cautiously gravitates towards the opening, leading to the ice. Considering she has two cups of scalding hot coffee in her hands, with those stupid cheap, plastic lids that always pop off, she really doesn't want to fall over and takes a deep breath, sending a prayer to the heaven as she lifts a leg and sets a foot on to the white ice.

It's easier than she thought, and she blows out a relieved sigh as her other foot comes to the ice. Weirdly enough it's actually easier to walk on the ice without skates than it is with them and wonders as she heads towards Brittany carefully why people don't just do this instead; it's actually not that bad.

Although she does acknowledge that it's not that much fun. Can't exactly pick up speed with flats.

The moment she's a foot away from Brittany, Brittany twirls around, her chin tucked into her jacket and her nose a bright pink from the cold. The tips of her ears match and Santana can't help but smile at the fluttering in her chest at the sight. Brittany's just... gorgeous.

"Hey Ice Princess," she teases, ducking her head and batting her lashes. "Fallen over again, yet?"

Santana puts on a fake scowl and hands over a coffee. "Shut up," she says playfully as the other girl eagerly takes one cup off her. "I made it over here alive and without spilling the coffee so I think we've made progress."

Brittany nudges her head out the collar on her jacket and peels off the lid, blowing the steam away. "Progress is good," she responds, taking a long sip and staring at Santana with a growing smile. "You wanna sit down?"

Santana nods and turns to walk away, but a hand curls around her elbow and anchors her to her spot. She eyes Brittany quizzically, wondering why she's stopped her when a coffee is pushed into her stomach and she takes it, watching Brittany peel her coat off to show the dress she was wearing in the club. It's a little on the short side but Santana can't seem to take her eyes off how incredible Brittany looks in it as her mouth pops open without conscious thought. The dress is tight around the bust and flows a little from the hips, but it cuts off above mid-thigh and shows just how incredible her figure is, and Santana's not even embarrassed by her obvious gawking because shit, Brittany's fucking hot.

"Here," the blonde says, laying down her coat on the ice.

It doesn't cover much of the ice but Santana doesn't care since she's way too concerned with the goosebumps forming over pale skin than sitting down. She shifts forward, holding both coffee cups out until Brittany takes them and stares as she shrugs her own coat off, draping it around the other girls shoulders. She has jeans on and a shirt—and she rarely gets cold anyway—so it's obvious Brittany needs it more.

"I don't wanna take your coat," Brittany mutters, moving to take the coat off.

"I'm wearing more clothes than you," Santana fires back, brow arching into a perfect curve and letting her eyes purposely flicker to the coat to stop Brittany from taking it off.

Brittany just chews on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes. "How about we share?"

Santana's mouth opens to protest, but then Brittany's dropping down, sitting on the coat placing both coffee cups beside her on the ice as she pulls Santana down with her. They sit side by side, and Brittany shifts closer, twisting and throwing both legs over Santana's lap so the ice doesn't touch her bare skin as she throws the coat over both their shoulders, trying to give them warmth. Santana just tries not to think about how they could warm up other ways because that's not exactly appropriate, and instead lets herself shudder, making it seem like the ice is having an effect on her instead of the sudden close proximity.

"So," Brittany picks up their coffees and hands Santana's to her, their fingertips brushing lightly. "What's your full name?"

Santana gets momentarily distracted by the touch, the spark forming between them and stutters, hiding it behind the coffee as she takes a long sip. "Santana Alma Lopez."

"Alma?"

"Named after my abuela," she explains, smiling, but feeling that same quirk deep within her stomach when she thinks of their last meeting. Her grandma never did like the fact her only grandchild wasn't fully... female down there. She shakes it off, though, putting a smile back on her face and trying to focus on the happier things in life. Like Brittany. "And you?"

"Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Susan?"

"Name after my mom," Brittany grins, licking the coffee from her lips. "For seven generations the eldest daughter has taken their mothers name. It's like a tradition."

Santana smiles back softly, knowing that she could talk to this girl forever. It's so weird because usually her walls never come down so quickly, but it's like they never existed now that she's around Brittany. It's strange, but in the best way. It's like she can breathe right again, after being deprived from oxygen for so long.

"So, any siblings?" Brittany asks, tugging her knees further up and leaning in towards Santana for warmth. Well, Santana assumes it's for warmth anyway even though she's feeling all kinds of toasty right now.

She shrugs, looking at her coffee. "Lonely child."

"Must have been tough."

"Not really," she replies honestly, thinking about her childhood. "I mean I was already pretty independent. Always wanted to play alone instead of with other kids." She lifts a shoulder and drops it. "Was probably better I was a lonely child otherwise I would've bitched out big time."

Brittany giggles, soft and light and it's like music to Santana's ears. She just wants to bottle up the sound and take it home with her.

"What about you?" She asks, bringing the cup to her lips again. She moans quietly as the warm liquid settles low in her stomach. Milky coffee is just the best. "Siblings?"

"Two sisters. One older, married to the guy who owns this place." Brittany's eyes flicker around the ice rink before coming back. "But I barely see her now she's popped. I see my younger sister more though." She bobs her head and cocks it quickly as she says, "She's annoying, but I love her."

"What's the age difference between you and your younger sister?"

"Five years. She's in Sophomore year at McKinley High?" Brittany's voice pitches like she's asking Santana a question. "Do you know it?"

"I used to go there."

"You did?" Brittany asks, her face showing surprise as she twists the cup in her hands. Staring not-so-subtly, Santana nods and feels another smile creep at her lips. She's been smiling so damn much tonight her face might actually break. "I almost went but my mom sent me to a specialist school downtown."

"Specialist in what?"

"Dance," Brittany leans her head on Santana's shoulder and Santana hopes that the girl can't hear how fast her heart is beating. She didn't even know until now it was but now it's all she can focus on. Besides the beautiful blonde, obviously. "But it was a bit of everything." She picks up her head quickly to look Santana in the eye. "Did your school have a Glee club?"

"Yeah."

"It was like that," Brittany explains. "But like, all the time." She rests her head back and breathes out against a tanned neck. Santana shakes as she restrains the shudder threatening to spiral through her. Jesus, Brittany smells good. "It was the best."

Humming in acknowledgment, Santana presses her cheek to the crown of the other girls head and inhales tangy apple shampoo and that sweet something wafting up from Brittany's skin, her eyes fluttering at the scent.

They stay like that for a long moment before Brittany begins to ask more questions and Santana's helpless but to answer.

/

It gets to midnight and the small clock above the main building chimes quietly.

The snow is no longer falling and so they're able to lean back to stare at the sky without having to blink away the snowflakes that fell into their eyes, but it's still really freaking cold and Santana pulls the other girl into her side and rubs a palm over goosebump-covered skin to try and keep Brittany warm since the coat isn't doing a great job at the moment.

They've been chatting about many different things; past relationships, their families, their childhood and within a few hours Santana thinks she's talked more and told more about herself to anyone than she has ever has. In her entire life. Seriously, what is Brittany doing to her?

But anyway, somehow they've now gone from serious conversations to stars and now Brittany's pointing towards a certain constellation in the sky, where five stars are forming a 'w' shape.

"You see that constellation there?" Brittany guides Santana's hand and points it upwards, her palm warm against Santana's hand. "The special one? Hidden behind the others?"

Santana turns her head to the side, cheek touching the coat to stare at Brittany. "Yeah," she breathes, momentarily caught up with the other girl's beauty. Something about that sentence caught her attention but she doesn't know why.

Blood rushes to her face when she realizes she's been staring and she glances to the sky once more, unfortunately missing the way Brittany smirks to herself, knowing there was a little staring going on.

"That's Cassiopeia."

"Cassiopeia?"

Blue eyes slide in Santana's direction. "You don't know her story?" Brittany asks, like she should totally know it.

Santana just shakes her head a little. "No. Should I?"

"Do you wanna?"

She grins as Brittany drops their hands back between them but keeps them together, a pale thumb rubbing over tanned knuckles. The touch is simple, but it makes something in her chest swoon and inflate. Almost like a balloon.

"I'd love to."

A spark of excitement comes from the girl beside her and Santana giggles as Brittany wiggles like it's preparation for the tale.

"Right, well once upon a time there was this queen named Cassiopeia."

Santana nods along, folding her free hand beneath her head and clutching Brittany's hand a little tighter to urge her on.

"She was gorgeous; the most beautiful woman to have ever existed, and no-one in the entire kingdom was offended by the beauty the woman possessed."

Something about how this queen is most definitely not the most beautiful woman in the world—how could she be when Brittany's before Santana at this moment?—almost tumbles from her mouth, but she bites down on her tongue and holds it back. She doesn't want to interrupt the story plus, how embarrassing if she just blurted that out? She's had plenty of embarrassment for tonight.

"But one day she really pissed off the sea people—" Santana chuckles but Brittany slaps her playfully on the bicep and tells her to continue listening "—because she said that she and her daughter, Andromeda, were so beautiful that no-one could surpass their beauty. She got too big for her boots—her daughters too—basically and the sea people, who I think must have been pretty hot too 'cause they got offended—" Brittany's nose crinkles cutely as she says that. "—overheard her and told on her to the sea-king."

"Poseidon," Santana chimes in. She knows that much.

Brittany grins, her eyes flashing with something unreadable and she nods slowly, twisting her palm around Santana's to tangle their fingers together and lets out a small sigh at the feeling. That thing inside Santana's chest blooms further and she just stares, wondering how she hasn't known Brittany all her damn life. It feels like it.

"Exactly," Brittany whispers. "But anyway, the sea people demanded that Cassiopeia was to be punished, and so some crap happened and Cassiopeia's daughter, Andromeda was sent to the bottom of the sea naked to be eaten by some big ass monster."

Santana sucks in her lips so she doesn't chuckle and Brittany shifts beside her, propping herself up on one elbow so she's spooning Santana's side and leaning over her a little, her hair tumbling down and littering a little across the ice. Santana has to strongly ignore the urge to reach over with her free hand and twist her fingers around the strands because she fears she may never let go.

"Don't laugh," Brittany says sternly but her tone's too light to be serious. "So yeah, naked chick and monster, and then some guy with sandals saved Cassiopeia's daughter and fell in love with her. They got constellations as a present from the God's, but the same God's thought Cassiopeia got off too lightly considering all that stuff that happened to her daughter was because of her."

Brown eyes flicker down to pink lips and Santana becomes completely mesmerized by the way Brittany speaks. So much so that she almost doesn't hear the rest of the story.

"And so they punished her by securing her to her throne and hanging her upside down in the heavens, where she would stay forever, circling Polaris. And those stars?" Brittany's pointer finger on her free hand points towards the sky. "The 'w' shape represents Cassiopeia's crown, turned upside down for eternity."

It's obvious the story's finished and yet Santana's still staring at the other girl like there's more. She stares and Brittany stares straight back, her blue eyes boring into Santana's like she's trying to see into her soul. And usually something like that would creep the crap out of Santana, but there's just something so interesting and trusting about Brittany that Santana just wants to become an open book. She doesn't want to creep around Brittany and tread the water to see if she can trust her; she wants to dive straight in because she's never met someone like Brittany.

She's never wanted to know so much about a person after meeting them for the first time and she's never wanted to tell someone everything about herself so not only will she be trusting Brittany, but Brittany will be trusting her.

Shit... She doesn't even know.

Brittany just gives her something. Something that scares her but something that makes her want to say screw it and give it a try.

Pulling their tangled fingers to her side, Santana props herself up on her elbow so the distance between their faces decreases a little. Brittany doesn't pull back, just stays rooted whilst her free hand comes up to the buttons on Santana's shirt near her neck and toy with them, blue eyes focusing on that. Their breath mixes in the space between them and Santana's pulse becomes almost deafeningly loud as she lets her eyes roam over the other girls face. She wants nothing more to kiss her right now. She's never met someone so wonderful.

So she's going to do it. "Hey, Britt?"

Brittany's eyes flicker up momentarily but drop just as quickly, and Santana's heart thumps loudly against her ribcage as her right hand comes up brush across a pale cheek, blushed pink with the coldness lingering in the air. The touch is feather soft but she feels Brittany's body lean into it, letting it drag on longer than intended and she realizes that Brittany wants to kiss her just as much as she wants to kiss Brittany. Now she has nothing to fear.

"Can I... Can I kiss you?"

A soft smile tugs at the corners of Brittany's lips and it's like they can't do anything but kiss as their eyes meet, the yes coming through blue without pink lips saying it and so they do just that.

Santana lets her fingers linger over the sharp bone of Brittany's jaw as she tilts her head up, and Brittany ducks down that little bit until their lips are ghosting over each other, both of them stilling to see who will make the first move. But Santana still has her eyes open and spares a glance into now dark blue eyes that are gazing right back at her, a smirk evident in them, and she gives in first, closing the distance as well as her eyes as she sinks against Brittany the moment their lips touch.

It's soft as first, just the press of lips against lips, and Santana's mouth quirks up at the side into a smile that's quickly erased by Brittany shifting the kiss and sucking on her upper lip. A moan tumbles from her mouth and she kisses back a little harder, pressing closer until Brittany's eyelashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks and suddenly she's lightheaded and a flood of warmth seeps through her veins and beneath her skin.

This is like a dream.

Her entire body sizzles from the kiss, and she pulls back for air but Brittany follows her quickly, bringing their mouths back together in a much deeper kiss, her hand dropping a tanned one and coming up to Santana's hair instead, tangling into dark locks. They kiss and kiss, deep, slow and lazy, until they're both out of breath and sighing into the small pecks they press against each other as their lungs refill with the necessary oxygen.

But even then they don't pull away from each other, just keep their foreheads tilted together and breaths trading between their mouths as they gaze into each others eyes, Santana's thumb stroking over Brittany's jaw and Brittany's thumbs rubbing circles on the spot beneath Santana's ear.

"I'm so glad I met you," Brittany whispers into her lips and Santana takes a deep breath in, her heart palpitating within her chest as the words sink through her skin.

"You have no idea," she breathes back through a chuckle and that something is back in Brittany's eyes, making Santana spill nothing but honesty. "Meeting you has been the best thing that's happened to me."

They speak no more, just gaze and gaze, reading each other in ways other people have never been able until the clock strikes two, and then the spell is broken.

/

December 2018

Santana comes home one night, kicking off her flats and slipping into the pair of socks she keeps by the side table for nights just like this.

Work was hectic tonight. She never comes home later than 11pm and yet it's 1am now and she's just getting in. Seriously, sometimes she wishes she wasn't such good friends with Holly and that she wasn't treated or paid as much as she does because she'd totally quit. It's only bar work, but she's studying part-time to become an event and wedding planner so it pays the rent and then some and that's cool for now. It's exactly what she needs.

Anyway, she slips on the socks and pads through the apartment, yawning and rubbing her hand over her face. She gets into the kitchen, opens the fridge, grabs a beer and is halfway to cracking it open when she hears her name being called. She doesn't even manage to take a sip before she wanders back into the living room and spots Brittany on the couch, her boyfriend Jason sitting beside her. How didn't she notice them before?

They're both grinning and Santana's lips twitch as she looks between them, wanting to smile back but there's a weird itch in the back of her mind that's making her think there's something more to it. Something she's not going to like, if the way Brittany's looking at her is anything to by. Those blue eyes are too forced.

"Hey..." she draws slowly, picking at the label of her beer. "Is everything alright?"

Jason shifts and throws her a smirk that Brittany doesn't see. It's weird because she's never really had that big of a problem with Brittany's boyfriend. Sure, they've never got on but that was just a clash of personalities, as well as something else that she likes not to think about, and so when Jason throws her that, she gets confused. She may not exactly like the guy, but she's never really verbalized it. Her dislike would probably be misinterpreted and she's got to get along with her best friends boyfriend. That's like a rule of friendship.

"We have something to tell you," Brittany beams and Santana can't fight the grin that comes across her face. That always happens when Brittany smiles at her. "Come and sit."

She taps the coffee table and Santana moves towards it, perching cautiously on the edge. Her arms come down to rest on her thighs and the beer bottle hangs loosely from her left. She still hasn't taken a sip yet but there's that itch in the back of her mind saying she's going to need more than one of these after this news.

"Okay... What's going on?"

Blue eyes roam around her face and Brittany sits forward, reaching out to take Santana's hand and squeezing it gently. Touching Brittany always makes her skin flare and warmth pool within her chest, just like the first time Brittany ever touched her. Except she doesn't notice the way Brittany's staring at her, at the way Jason's staring at Brittany stare at her until a few seconds later and then the news comes out before she can ever fully prepare herself for it. Had she been looking into Brittany's eyes, or taken in the way Brittany shifted forward and taking her hand like she was trying to comfort her with bad news, she would've been able to suck in a deep breath before choking on it.

"Jason proposed."

Something cold drops in Santana's stomach as the words loop over and over in her mind, and she knows she looks like a complete freak just sitting there, staring blankly with a slack jaw but how the hell else is she supposed to look? Brittany's just told her she's getting married. To that douche bag? When the hell did that even happen?

"Excuse me?" She asks, lowering her head a little and perking up her ears because there's no way in hell what she just heard is actually true.

Brittany looks her in the eye, a wide grin on her face but Santana can't take note of any of that when she's seeing something different behind blue eyes. Still, Brittany stays true to the excitement her body is showing and bounces in her spot, their hands jigging between them.

"I'm getting married!"

Hearing it for a second time isn't any better and for another few seconds, Santana just looks between Brittany fiancée and Brittany, trying to take it in because she was so sure it would never come to this. She never thought Jason was marriage material. That Brittany would marry someone like Jason because... well, she's not going to say. Even in her thoughts she sounds like a bitter, jealous bitch so out loud won't be any better.

So when the news finally sinks in, when she finally lets herself accept it, she decides it would be good if she reacted sooner rather than later and chooses that reaction to be positive. After all, she has no reason not to be. There might be this weird pressure on her chest, her stomach might feel like it's sinking and that something just jumped up and lodged itself into her throat, but so what? This is big news; that's why she's feeling like this because it's going to change a lot of things and that's just too much to process.

Forcing a smile, she begins nodding like she's approving of it—not that she has to because she's happy and so is Brittany—and lets her face slowly slip into a grin. And okay, it might not be genuine, but it will be soon because she's just in shock and it takes time to process things sometimes. The smile will be real, and she tries to show that by stretching the grin as far as it'll go but she can just feel how fake it is in her eyes, and hopes to God that Brittany's so excited that she's getting married that she isn't paying much attention to anything else.

"That's amazing!" She finally manages to get out, lacing her voice with excitement and shifting forward to throw her arms around her best friend, luckily to the left so Jason can't see the slight hesitation she has on her face as her body reacts to Brittany's touch. "Congratulations, Britt!" She spares a glance toward Jason, still sitting on the sofa with a smug ass grin as his arms stretch along the back of it and she forces herself to give him a small nod. Suddenly her dislike has shot up. "You too, Jason."

Brittany nods against her shoulder, her arms tightening around a tanned neck and Santana knows there's something more to it by the subtle squeeze in biceps, but decides not to say anything. After all, she could just be over thinking this because like there's no reason for Santana not to be not happy, there's no for Brittany to not be happy. So she ignores it, reluctantly pulling out the hug and forcing a feigned grin back on her face.

"It is," the blonde says and this time, it's hard not to notice the something in Brittany's voice. "But I wanna ask you something."

Santana puts on a soft smile, showing her willingness to listen despite knowing her eyes are betraying how she feels. They feel heavier than usually, and her cheeks are now aching with the forced smile she's been putting on. Damn. It's only been a few minutes of smiling. If Brittany's getting married she really needs to perk up her acting skills.

Even if she's not sure why she has to act. She should be happy for Brittany.

"I'm all ears," she says, trying to put a lightness to the situation but all she hears is a head shake and a cluck of a tongue in her mind.

"I know you're studying and sometimes your work is really hectic..." Brittany starts, wringing her hands in front of her and biting her lip, but she hasn't said anything more and so Santana just nods, agreeing with her best friends words. "But I was wondering—since you're studying wedding planning and such—that maybe..."

Blue eyes begin shining and her eyebrows lift a little and Santana already knows what's coming without the other girl saying it. She just kind of doesn't want to hear it.

"Would you help plan my wedding with me?"

Something deep within Santana's chest clenches at the question as a fluffy of images flash through her mind; some of helping Brittany picking out a dress, some of helping Brittany picking out a song, some of helping Brittany pick out a venue but then there's some of watching Brittany walk down the aisle and that makes that clench just a little tighter, a little harder. It makes her want to say no or blurt out some ridiculous excuse, but then she thinks about how she's supposed to be happy for Brittany. How this is what best friends do, and she doesn't have a fucking leg to stand on.

So she just nods and tries another smile, figuring this pressure will go away because it's just the shock of all this news at once. That's all.

"Of course I will," she says, forcing another smile. "I'd be honored to be your wedding planner."

Brittany squeals in excitement and wraps her up in another hug, but Santana just buries her face into Brittany's shoulder and tries not to focus on the pressure on her chest.

It'll go away.

It has to.

/

I know it's a little confusing but yeah, things will be explained as it goes along. Hope you enjoyed and please, leave a comment on your thoughts so far! :)