A/N: I don't know how or why this idea popped into my head but it did. So I wrote it up. Hope you enjoy!

-B

"Guys, its such crap!"

"It's not that bad, Britt."

"Yeah, at least you'll be served food."

You give Puck a pointed look and he holds his hands up before going back to playing with his yo-yo. You groan and roll from your stomach to your back, letting your head hang back over the edge of the mattress.

"It's embarrassing. What sixteen year old needs a freaking babysitter?" you grumble, lifting your head a bit when Quinn pats your hand.

"You're parents are just super protective. It's no big deal."

"Quinn," you say pointedly, pulling yourself up, and position yourself in front of her, mimicking her crossed legs and straight back, "They're dropping me off at some random house for five hours to be watched. That's not protective. That's plain weird…and pathetic."

"When she said protective, I think she was talking about the house." Puck chuckles and you furrow your brows.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well…" Quinn draws out, smiling a guilty smile, "You did kind of almost ruin the kitchen that time you tried to defrost that lasagne." She shrugs, fiddling with her hands while you pout.

"That was an accident! How was I supposed to know you can't put aluminum in the microwave? I mean, if it can go in the oven it should be microwave safe too. I'm just saying." You comment, running your hand through your long blonde locks.

You glance at Puck when he nods, "I actually agree with you there, Britt." You stick your tongue out at Quinn when she huffs with an eye roll, and look at your door when there is a knock.

"Who is it?" you call and hear your fathers laugh.

"Your amazingly awesome father." He calls back and you roll your eyes with a faint smile.

"If you were as amazingly awesome as you claim, you wouldn't be sending me to a babysitter!"

The door slowly open and Albert pokes his head in, smiling apologetically at you making you scowl at him, "Sweetheart, your mother is just worried. And she doesn't want to have to pick out a new microwave again." He chuckles with a wink.

"It was one time and now I know. It was a learning experience." You tell him as he walks into the room, over to the bed. He nudges you over and you huff, scooting closer to Quinn to give him room to sit.

"Brittany, it'll be fine." He says, "I promise. Santana's excited to see you again." He grins widely, bumping your shoulder with his as you frown.

"Santana? I haven't seen her since I was like three."

"You were nine." He states with a pointed look.

"Still that's a long time." You shrug, picking at your blanket as Quinn examines her nails; Puck throwing the yo-yo out in front of him and pulling it back.

"You two were best friends!" he beams, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly, "You did everything together."

"Maybe because she was babysitting me then too! And we were never best friends. It only seemed like that because I liked her more than that Rachel girl."

"Rachel was pretty intense." Albert agrees with a thoughtful look. "But you admit Santana was pretty cool to be around."

"She was in high school, which made her seem cool." You argue and Albert sighs dramatically, bringing a faintly amused smile to your face. He glances at you with a victorious grin and puts his hand on the side of your head, kissing your temple.

"It'll be fun, sweetheart. I promise." He says and you sigh with a pout, "We're leaving in an hour so be ready." You, Quinn, and Puck watch him leave the room before you flop back on the bed with a groan. It's quiet for a moment before Quinn clears her throat.

"So Santana. Like Santana Lopez?"

"How many Santana's do you know in Lima, Quinn?" Puck snorts, tensing when the yo-yo knocks your pencil holder off your desk. You send him a look and he mumbles an apology while picking everything up.

"Well there could be another Santana, at least one." She glares at him before looking back at you, "Anyway, Fran told me about her when she was in high school. Apparently she was a total bitch."

Your frown at this and sit upright, shaking your head, "Santana wasn't a bitch. As much as I don't want to agree with dad, she was really nice. And fun."

"Well she had to be to you. She was babysitting you. She could've been Satan's spawn at school." Puck laughs at himself and you and Quinn exchange looks before each of you grab a pillow and throw it at Puck. They bounce off his head and he knocks them to the ground with a frown. "I was just saying…"

"Well you're an idiot." Quinn says before shaking her head and tucking hair behind her ear.

"Whatever." He mumbles, "So why haven't you seen her since you were nine?"

"I think her mom cheated on her dad and so when they separated she moved with her dad because they were closer than she is with her mom."

"That's what Fran and her friends always said." Quinn nods, "She was there Friday and then come Monday nothing."

"Whatever. I don't even want to go." You groan, "I'd rather lay here and wither away into nothing but a rotted corpse."

"Gross, Brittany."

"That's nasty."

You giggle at your friends responses and stare at the ceiling.

"Hey!" Quinn suddenly exclaims, "Why don't you stay at my place?"

You flip yourself over and crawl to your knees with wide excited eyes, Quinn sharing your look when your door opens.

"Come on, Brittany. You have to start getting ready." Susan says with a pointed look.

"Mom!" you beam, getting off the bed and take her hands in yours with a pleading smile, "Can I stay over at Quinn's tonight? That way you don't have to drop me off and we can just walk there. Plus I won't be humiliated. Please!"

"Darling, Quinn's parents aren't going to be home either, that's why-"

"But I'll be with Quinn!" you protest with a frown and Susan smiles apologetically, "Mom!" you plead. "If Quinn can stay alone in her house, why can't I stay alone here? Or just let me go to her house!"

"I'm sorry, Brittany." She shakes her head and you drop her hands, folding your arms over your chest stubbornly, "Santana cleared her schedule to do this for us and she's really looking forward to seeing you again. It would be rude to cancel."

"Yeah, right." You scowl, moving to your dresser.

"Brittany…"

"Whatever, Mom."

"Darling, I'm-"

"Can you leave now? I need to get ready." You say, not facing her and drop your shoulders when she leave, looking over your shoulder. Quinn mumbles an apology and you open your mouth to tell her she didn't do anything when your tiny clay model of Lord Tubbington tumbles from your desk and lands on the carpet.

"Damn it, Puck!"

"I can't believe you're making me do this." You grumble, shaking your head.

"Honey, I'm sure you'll have fun. You and Santana-"

"Were best friends, blah, blah." You cut your mother off, "News flash. We weren't best friends. She's like ten years older than me."

"Don't be silly. She's only seven years older."

"Oh, how foolish of me." You mumble, slowly lifting your gaze out the window when your dad slows the car to a stop in front of the suburban two story you barely remember. You squint at the house, taking in the warm inviting nature of it and sigh heavily when the front porch light turns on. "God, this is so embarrassing." You say out loud, clenching your fist around the strap of your messenger bag in your lap.

"We got to get going, Britt." Albert says and you look at your parents in the front seat, looking back at you. "We'll pick you up tomorrow morn-"

"Hold up!" you exclaim with wide eyes, "I am not sleeping over here!"

"I know." You take a calming breath when he cracks a smile, your mother chuckling, and send them both dirty looks. "Come on, kiddo."

You wet your lips and grab the handle, swallowing as you stare at the house before shifting to the middle back seat to lean forwards, "Okay, how about this. You swing back home and let me out. You don't even have to stop the car, I'll tuck and roll."

"Brittany…"

"No, you can even take my key." You say quickly, digging in your bag, "I'll chill in the back yard until you get home. It'll be fun, like a camp out."

"Brittany…"

"Or! Or, I can head over to Quinn's…"

"Britt…"

"Puck's if you don't want me to go to Quinn's house. I'm fine either way." You snap your head to the side when the door opens and shake your head at your father giving you a look. "Seriously. I will even chill in the car all night. It's a win, win." You say pleadingly as Albert gently drags you out of the car. "I'm honest to god begging!" you hiss desperately, clutching your bag to your chest as Albert rounds the car to the driver seat and gets in.

"Go and have fun, Brittany. We'll see you after twelve." Susan says before pointing to the front door. "Don't leave her waiting, Brittany. Love you!" she bumps your chin with her finger before they pull from the curb, leaving you standing stock still on the spot.

You swallow and slowly turn around, letting out a whine as you reluctantly take your first few steps towards the house.

You step onto the porch and wet your lips nervously, hesitantly peeking through the window next to the door. You pout and glance at the doorbell.

"Come on, Brittany. You can do this." You whisper to yourself, "Just a few hours. You can pull through like a champ. You'll never have to revisit this ever again." You let out a breath and shake your hands out before poking the doorbell and holding your breath.

You hear quickened footsteps before they slow nearing the door and drop your gaze to the porch while pulling your bottom lip between your lips. You keep your head down when the door opens and shift, lifting your gaze slowly.

"Brittany!"

Holy mother of god…

You stare open mouthed at Santana standing in the doorway in black volleyball shorts and an oversized blue t-shirt, her hair falling wavy onto her shoulders, dark eyes sparkling, with a wide smile.

Holy shit, you think again, not able to keep your eyes from running back down her body.

"S-Santana." You say in awe, your mouth dry. Her smile falters faintly as she tilts her head. "Or…San, I mean." You shake your head, using the nickname you always addressed her by. "Uh…Hi." You finish lamely and she chuckles.

"Hi. Here, come in!" she steps back, offering to take your bag, and you shake your head with a faint blush as you step in the house. "God, it's so good to see you." She chuckles, putting her hand on your arm lightly as she smiles at you. Your skin burns at her touch, and you take a sharp inhale, "You look so different."

"Y-yeah." Wow, you really don't think you can handle this. You glance to where her hand is still resting on your arm, and she says a soft apology while removing it, putting both hands on her hips instead.

"So…Are you hungry?" she asks with soft eyes, "I was thinking of ordering Hawaiian. Is that still your favorite?"

"Yeah." You nods stiffly.

Santana tilts her head, regarding you curiously with an amused smile before dropping her hands and motioning for you to follow her as she heads further into the house.

"Oh my god!" You whisper to yourself, watching her hips sway back and forth as she gets farther from you, and dig through your bag for your phone, whipping it out to send a message in the group text between you, Quinn, and Puck.

To Group – Brittany: Holy shit guys! Santana is hot!

You quickly lift your gaze and put your phone in your pocket after sending the message, moving towards the kitchen.

From Group – Puck: Define hot!

To Group – Brittany: I can't even think of the right words!

From Group – Puck: I want your life.

From Group – Quinn: One. Puck, you are beyond pathetic. Two. Britt, really? That hot?

To Group – Brittany: That hot.

From Group – Puck: How am I pathetic?

From Group – Puck: Send a pic!

From Group – Quinn: You idiot! Brittany, you are not taking a picture of her like a creep.

To Group – Brittany: [Picture File Attached]…See?!

From Group – Quinn: Wow…

From Group – Puck: You lucky bitch.

You smile faintly at your phone and quickly delete the picture you snuck of Santana on the phone with the pizza place, and place it on the kitchen island, folding your hands in your lap as you wait.

"Yeah, it'll be cash…Alright, see you in a bit." She says before hanging up and tucking her phone into her bra. You widen your eyes and she stands across from you on the other side of the island, hands flat against the counter as she smiles faintly. "So, how old are you now? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen." You say quickly, "I'll be seventeen in a few months."

"Ah, so you won't be eighteen for graduation." She nods, "Not like that stops anyone from partying." She chuckles, running a hand through her hair.

You bite your lip and she shrugs, lifting her gaze back to you. You lift your brows and release your lip with a blush. Santana lifts her chin slowly in a knowing nod before letting out a short chuckle, smiling faintly as she looks to the side.

"Um, s-so do you go to university?" you ask, your eyes closed tightly before opening hesitantly.

Santana's smile widens at the mention and you smile faintly, "Yeah, I'm at Louisville." She nods.

"Oh, what are you studying?"

"Business, although I'm taking a couple political courses."

"Um…cool." You nod awkwardly. Santana eyes you carefully, making you tense, and slowly rounds the island, leaning against it next to you.

"Look, Britt, I know this is kind of weird…awkward…but this was never us." She states with a pointed look and you shift. "Where's the goofy nine year old that used to tackle me in a hug and demand we watch every Disney movie in her collection?" she frowns playfully, turning so she is standing directly in front of you. "I know you're all adult now but come on! I agreed to babysit so we could catch up. I missed you, weirdo." She admits quietly, bumping her knuckles against your knee.

You smile shyly and glance up at her, catching her eye.

"So…" she trails off, slowly lifting her arms out, gesturing for a hug. Her eyes twinkle playfully and you shake your head with a growing smile as she wiggles her fingers. "Get up and hug me, loser."

"San…"

"Don't make me go all Lima heights adjacent on your ass." She says firmly and you roll your eyes at her old threat, sliding off the stool. She beams and you try to hide your blush by holding your arms out. Santana smiles victoriously and steps closer, wrapping her arms around your neck and you take a sharp breath as you wrap your arms around her waist.

"See?" she asks, pulling her head back, "It's not that bad." She smirks and you swallow.

"Shut up." You mumble and she throws her head back laughing, her fingers caressing your neck as her hands slid to your shoulders.

"Come on, tell me what you've been up to since I've been gone." She says, taking your hand and leading you to the living room.

"Woah, woah, woah!" she says, holding her hands up as you smile into your glass of Pepsi. "You're talking about Noah Puckerman? That little twerp from a few streets down?" she asks in disbelief.

"Yeah, we got really close in grade 7. He's pretty great actually."

"Does he still have that ridiculous mohawk?" she asks with an arched brow.

You chuckle and shrug, "It doesn't look terrible now that his head's a little bigger." Santana lets out a laugh and your smile widens at the sound.

It was fun getting to hang out with Santana again. You didn't realize how much you missed her until you started talking. In all honesty, you were completely distraught when your parents told you she moved. She was your best friend. You might not have been hers but she meant a lot to you. You could tell her anything and everything and she always knew how to cheer you up when you were sad. You would count the days until the next time you'd get to see her, the time frames ranging from two days to a week, but she always came back.

"And Quinn Fabray as in Fran's younger sister?"

"Yeah." You nod. Santana hums and takes a sip of her beer, looking towards the foyer before placing it on the coffee table and excusing herself to get the pizza.

You lower your glass to your lap and pull your cell from your pocket, opening the group chat.

From Group – Puck: Have you tapped it yet?

From Group – Quinn: You are a pig.

From Group – Puck: More like the average teenage boy.

From Group – Quinn: Santana is like 23.

From Group – Puck: So?

From Group – Quinn: Noah Puckerman, you are atrocious.

You laugh at the messages and begin to type a reply when Santana pokes her head around the corner with a questioning arch of her brow.

"What's so funny?" she asks and you jump, fumbling with your phone before it hits the coffee table and lands on the floor. You give an embarrassed smile as she holds back a laugh, and shake your head.

"Just group chat. Puck and Quinn." You tell her as she takes back her seat, putting the pizza box on the table before flipping the lid open.

"What'd they say?" she asks, pulling her legs under her while sitting back with a slice of pizza in one hand, her beer in the other.

You shake your head, stuttering and close the message, "Nothing. Just bickering."

"Hey, it's cool." She holds her pizza up, "No need to tell me." She shrugs and you lean forwards to grab a slice. "I'll just steal your phone later on." She says and you still. You look at her and she smirks faintly making you gulp.

"It's locked."

"It's either your birth year, the year you adopted LT, or 1234." She states and you stare at her before sitting back and going to change your pin. "Uh, uh. No way, Pierce." She says quickly, putting her glass and pizza down before snatching your phone.

"Santana, give it back." You say quickly, reaching for the phone. She pulls it out of your reach and you get up and grab for it.

"I want to laugh too!" she says and you grab at it again.

"Fine, give me my phone and I'll tell you!"

"No you won't." she snorts, sticking her hand out and pushing against your shoulder to keep you at bay.

"Seriously, I will." You lie and she eyes you with narrowed eyes before reluctantly handing it over. You eye her as you go to settings and change your pin for the night, sending her a smug grin as she smiles and lifts her beer to her lips.

"So have you and Puckerman hooked up?"

You throw your hand over your mouth as you almost spit out your drink, Santana snickering, and look at her with wide eyes. She lifts her pizza hand in apology and you swallow roughly, shaking your head.

"Why would you ask that?"

"That kid was always looking up skirts and thought he was so hot. He was fricken nine. I'm only assuming his ego grew with the rest of him." She shrugs, "And you're best friends."

"So?" you frown in confusion while Santana gives a pointed look.

"Guys and girls can't be best friends." She states and shakes her head when you go to protest, "Okay, that's not completely true. But I doubt Puckerman can be best friends with a girl without trying to hook up. I just picture him as that type." She shrugs and you lower your Pepsi.

You shift and shake your head, "We haven't. And he hasn't tried anything with me or Quinn. He's like my brother. He even got in a fight with another Titan for calling me a stereotypical hot cheerleader."

"Well you are, but that's sweet I guess." She says as you do a double take.

"W-what?"

"What?" she asks with lifted brows.

"You said I am." You say nervously, "Am what?"

Santana chuckles, tapping the bottle of beer with the index finger before glancing at you with a faint grin, "Anyone with eyes would describe you as hot, Britt. Like really hot. You were always a cute kid." She compliments and you blush deeply, averting your gaze. "And you're a cheerleader. You must run that school." She grins proudly.

You chuckle nervously with a bashful smile and clear your throat, "Quinn is actually head Cheerleader. I'm just her second."

"Still. I bet everyone would place you at the top of the list." She says with a soft smile.

"T-thanks." You mumble, looking down with your face basically on fire.

You take a bite of pizza, turning your attention to the TV playing a rerun of Friends, and bring your knees up, resting your chin on top. You glance at Santana when she gets up and she holds her bottle up.

"Do you want one?"

"You'd let me drink?" you ask with a grin and lifted brows.

Santana laughs, "You're almost seventeen, a cheerleader, and friends with Noah Puckerman. Something tells me this wouldn't be your first taste of alcohol." She says knowingly before winking playfully and heading to grab a few beers. She returns quickly enough, opening your bottle for you before handing it over and proceeding to remove her cap as she sits back down, a little closer to the middle of the couch than she was before. "Cheers." She sighs, smiling as she holds the end of her beer out.

You straighten and clink the end of the two together before joining her in taking a gulp.

You giggle at something Phoebe says on the show. It was the fourth straight episode of Friends you have watched and full of hilarious one liners.

You and Santana haven't talked much the past hour and a half, only to exchange a smiles and comments about certain parts of the episodes. At the moment she looked to be more focused on her phone than the show and you frown slightly. You know the situation was ridiculous, being babysat at sixteen by your former babysitter, years older, and that you didn't need her undivided attention. But, okay, it was pathetic, but you were getting a little jealous over whatever was taking her attention from you.

She'd been chuckling to herself and smiling widely, rolling her eyes fondly at whatever or whoever on her phone for the last half hour and you were more than curious.

At the latest snort of amusement and fond eye roll you look at her with a faint, forced smile of your own and ask what's so funny.

She lifts her head, eyes sparkling, her dimple showing as she smiles and shakes her head, "One of my friends I met at University just told me something that happened at his dorm. He's an interesting character." She chuckles, glancing at her phone as she takes another drink.

"Right." You nod slowly, tilting your head, "Is he actually just a friend, or is it your boyfriend?" you ask curiously, throwing on a fake teasing smile.

"Oh, God, no." she says with a scrunched nose, shaking her head.

You relax and your smile grows, "Why do you say it like that?"

"Finn is…let's just say he's one hundred percent not my type." She offers, leaving her phone in her lap.

"What's your type?" you ask with piqued interest, shifting to get more comfortable as Santana watches you with amusement shinning in her eyes.

"Why do you ask?" she questions, wetting her lips as she holds back a smile. You watch her turn to face you better, propping her elbow on the back of the couch to hold her head in her hand, and shrug innocently.

"I don't know; just curious. Maybe I know of someone who would be interested in you. Unless you already have a boyfriend that's just not Finn." You say quickly, inwardly scolding yourself as you take a long sip of beer.

"I'm single, Britt." She chuckles fondly, smiling sweetly at you.

"How?" you ask in disbelief, making Santana lift her brows, "I mean, you're…um…you know."

Santana looks at her lap as her smile widens, and brushes her bangs from her face as she lifts her head, wetting her lips with a cute grin, "I'm…"

You blush and swallow, shrugging, "You're nice…"

"Nice." She states with an arched brow.

"And fun…" you nod, glancing to and away from her bashfully, "You're like super pretty." You mumble embarrassingly.

"You think so?" she asks, her tone playful as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, grinning.

"Yeah. Which is why it's kinda unbelievable you don't have a boyfriend. Any guy would be lucky to have you." You shrug, tracing the rim of the bottle with your finger.

"Well…I'm not really…into guys as it would turn out."

You lift your gaze, looking at her through your lashes. Santana smirks faintly, licking her lips as she lifts her beer.

"Oh, wow…that's," you trail off, taking a breath as you keep your gaze locked with hers, "Cool."

"Yeah…" she says softly, looking between your eyes before you catch her gaze fall for the briefest second. She clears her throat and nods, "I'm just going to run to the bathroom real quick." You nod as she stands up, "Um, feel free to grab another beer or whatever." She waves at your empty bottle before retreating, running a hand through her hair.

You watch her go, craning your neck until she disappears from your sight, and grab your phone quickly opening your group chat for help.

From Group – Puck: I'm just saying it's totally fine if they shack up!

From Group – Quinn: There is almost a decade between them! She could be her sister!

From Group – Puck: That's like incest, Quinn.

From Group – Quinn: My point exactly, idiot.

You groan and shake your head at the two.

To Group – Brittany: Can you not discuss incest in here. That's gross.

To Group – Brittany: Also San just told me she's gay.

To Group – Brittany: She's like super hot, guys.

You glance back towards the foyer hall where Santana disappeared and look down at your phone when it buzzes.

From Group – Puck: I think she want you.

From Group – Quinn: Jesus, Puck! Brittany, I think you should just get through the night and not do anything I wouldn't do.

From Group – Puck: She told her she's gay, Q. Into girls. She told Britt, a girl, that she is into girls. If that's not subliminal messaging, I don't know what is.

From Group – Quinn: You [don't] know what subliminal messaging is. That's the point.

To Group – Brittany: Hellooo…what do I do?!

From Group – Puck: Yeah, poke fun at my brain some more, Fabray.

From Group – Quinn: Oh I will, I have thousands of examples that prove your idiocy.

To Group – Brittany: Guys?

From Group – Puck: You're a bitch, you know that?

From Group – Quinn: Ouch! That hurt. How could you? Seriously, sometimes I don't understand why I associate with you.

To Group – Brittany: …guys?

You groan in annoyance and throw your phone onto the other couch after locking it and get up, heading to the kitchen.

"They're both idiots." You mumble to yourself as you open the fridge, pausing with an afterthought, "Oh my god, they're totally into each other!" You smirk, excited about what you just figured out and grab a beer for yourself.

You close the fridge door, and still, seeing Santana walk back into the living room with her hands in her hair. You slump against the counter with a frown and think.

Maybe Puck was right. The whole night Santana was smiling and laughing with you. She said she missed you. Told you that you were hot. She even initiated a hug and let you drink. Why would she let both of you drink and then tell you she's into girls?

You furrow your brows and glance back up when Santana asks you if you could grab her another drink and let out a shaky breath.

It's not like you'll ever see her again, you tell yourself, well, or the chances are fairly low. She doesn't even go to school here. You nod slowly, Just flirt a bit, see if she's into you. Doubt she will be but you're a pretty good flirt. You've got a pretty decent rap sheet. Yeah. Just do it. Flirt.

"Okay." You whisper, "I can do this."

"Hey." She says with a smile when you come back into the room.

"Hey," you reply and hand her one of the beers before sitting down a little closer to her, keeping a fair amount of distance.

"Thanks."

You nod and do a double take when she grabs the bottle opener on the table, leaning back into the couch to open hers and wide your eyes.

"Wait!" you exclaim, causing Santana to jump in surprise as you launch forwards, putting your bottle down as you take the opener. "Uh, let me get that for you." You say awkwardly, taking her bottle.

She lifts a questioning brow, "Okay…" she says slowly, watching you struggle to get the cap off. "I can…"

"No, no, I've got it." You tell her quickly, squinting before the cap pops off, flying to the floor. You lift your eyes to hers and smile faintly, handing her the bottle before opening your own.

"Thank you." She chuckles faintly, shaking her head at you with a small smile as you wince when your cap pops off.

You look at her and nod, "You're welcome." You sigh happily, shifting and put the opener down before hesitantly dropping your hand onto her knee.

Santana lowers the bottle from her lips without taking a sip and drops her gaze to your hands placement. You brush her skin with your thumb, watching her and Santana lifts her gaze, tilting her head as she scratches the top of her head.

"Uh," she says before letting out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head she opens her eyes, "What are you doing?"

You still your thumb and look at her with an innocently sweet smile and look at your hand, shrugging lightly as you lift your hand, brushing the tips of your fingers over the top of her thigh, tickling her lightly.

"What do you mean?" you ask quietly, flipping your hair over your shoulder, biting the corner of your lip with a tiny upturn of the other side.

Your eyes drop to her chest as it lifts with a heavy inhale, and lift back to her face.

She licks her lips and lets out a nervous laugh, resting her head in her hand, elbow against the back of the couch, "You're flirting." She states, following your hand with her eyes.

You bring forth your flirtatious giggle, the one that usually seals the deal, and shake your head, "No I'm not."

"You are." Santana nods, lifting her eyes to meet yours as you pull your hand back into your lap.

"San," you say with a pointed look, making her try to hold back a smile, "I'm not flirting with you. That's kinda silly, don't you think?" you ask, taking a sip of beer and licking your lips slowly, seductively, as Santana watches. "I mean…you're my babysitter." You remind her, resting your head against the back of the couch while reaching with your other hand, twirling a strand of her hair around your finger.

She arches a brow at you and hums, "Right." She says knowingly and you bite your lip, looking at her through your lashes before focusing on your hand as you trace her collar bone. You shift your gaze to her face when she gasps quietly, and giggle, lifting your head.

Checkmate, you think, getting on your knees. Santana follows you with her eyes as you lean in, caressing the side of her neck and cheek, and wets her lips before you nudge her nose with yours.

"Okay. You're right." You whisper, pulling back slightly to look in her eyes.

"Not bad, Pierce." She breathes and you grin widely before pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to her lips.

You move your hand to the back of her neck as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, keeping her with you as you lean back to put your beer on the table. You smoothly take Santana's placing it down as well before leaning your body forwards and trapping her between you and the couch.

Santana teases the tip of her tongue against your top lip and you part them immediately, moaning the instant she runs her tongue over yours. You feel her fingers grab the back belt loops of your jeans before she pulls you closer to her, and break the kiss, panting hotly against her parted lips.

"I'm twenty three and you're only sixteen." She breathes, lifting her chin to move her lips closer to yours.

"Almost seventeen." You nod, caressing her cheeks with your thumbs.

"We shouldn't be doing this." She admits through a whisper and you nod again.

"But…"

"Right." She nods quickly, "There's buts."

You smile and she claims your lips, sliding her hands up your sides and under your shirt. You playfully nip at her bottom lip and pull back, lifting your shirt over your head as she flutters her eyes open, licking her lips.

"Wow…okay." She breathes, running her eyes over your torso, stopping momentarily on your chest held back by a simple black bra. She runs her hands up your sides again, brushing her fingers along the bottom of your bra before trailing her left down your stomach. Your muscles twitch under her touch and her lips part.

You blush when she lifts her eyes to yours and wrap your arms around her neck as she shifts and lowers you back onto the couch, straddling your hips.

"I know I said you were hot but…" she trails off, tracing the outline of your abs before brushing a strand of hair from you face, "Britt, you're beautiful."

"Um, t-thanks…" you mumble with a blush, glancing to the side.

"No, Brittany, I'm serious." She says, "You're so…so beautiful." She sighs, leaning down. You close your eyes and Santana places a soft kiss to your cheek, resting her forehead against yours before kissing your other cheek and peppering your face with loving kisses until she reaches your lips.

Your tongues tenderly caress the other as your hands hold her cheeks, Santana's hand on your side and the other pressed against the couch.

You peck her lips before she pulls away and watch her intently as she pulls her t-shirt over her head, smiling softly at you before moving her hands to her back to remove her bra. You swallow and part your lips as the straps slip down her shoulders and arms. She drops it to the ground and you stare at her chest for a moment before sitting up and removing your own.

Santana swallows and cups your cheeks, kissing you passionately as you both lower back to the couch.

Hands caress and fingers brush, lips leaving soft trails and crashing passionately.

Clothing is shed and bodies rock.

Santana drags her nails lightly down your back as you slide your fingers through her folds, kissing her neck as she bites her lip.

You rest your head in the crook of her neck and push two digits inside, pumping slowly as she tightens her hold on you. You pull out after a few minutes, Santana panting and holding her hair out of her face, and move down her body, sliding her panties down her legs.

She opens her eyes, watching you position yourself between her legs and wets her lips, holding back a moan when you run your tongue flat through her wet folds. She moans your name and tangles her hand in your hair, whimpering and writhing as you suck and lick.

"Britt…" she pants. You look up at her through your lashes and move your hand from her lower stomach, pushing two digits inside once again and pump as you suck, smiling against her when she arches her back off the couch and moans deeply, trapping your head between her thighs.

You help her ride out her orgasm and her legs spread, letting you lift your head as you slowly pull your fingers out, climbing up her body while leaving a trail of kisses over her stomach and chest.

You slip your tongue into her mouth and she moans, holding the sides of your neck as you make out.

After a few minutes Santana pulls your bottom lip between her teeth and lets go with a smirk, shifting to lower herself down the couch.

"Scoot up, Britt." She husks, tapping the side of your thigh and you look down at her in surprise.

"W-what?"

She chuckles and turns, kissing the inside of your thigh, "Move up a bit…you know…over my face." She smiles in amusement at your wide eyes and nods for you to do so. You lick your lips and do as instructed before Santana wraps her arms around your thighs and pulls you lower.

You gulp and hold onto the back of the couch, jaw dropping and eyes clamping closed when Santana runs her tongue over your center, teasingly pulling your nub between her teeth.

"God, Santana…" you moan, your free hand going in front of you to the arm of the couch as Santana pulls you lower and starts to suck on your clit.

You throw your head back, biting your lip and keep from grinding against her face when Santana pushes her tongue inside and fucks you with it.

"Fuck…" you breathe, letting go of the back of the couch to run a hand through your hair before dropping your hand back to the couch. Santana chuckles against you and you smile. She continues for a good five minutes before removing her hands and telling you to turn around while pulling herself out from under you.

You rest your back against the arm of the couch and Santana crashes her lips against yours, running her hands over your thighs and torso, trailing her kisses to your pulse point where she sucks while sliding her hand between your bodies. You gasp when she slides her fingers inside you and turn your head, breathing her name.

She lifts her head and you kiss her wantonly, tangling your hand in her hair while cupping the nape of her neck. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to reaching your peak and drop your jaw, panting hotly against her mouth as she kisses your chin and along your jaw line. "S-Santana…" you whimper, holding her closer as you cum hard. You clench tightly around her fingers and arch your hips off the couch. Santana claims your lips with hers and kisses you as you come down from your high.

She slips her fingers out and wraps her arm around you, holding you close as you slow your kiss, until you're just resting your foreheads together and mixing your breaths.

"That was…wow." You breathe, fluttering your eyes open.

Santana smiles and nods, bumping her nose with your affectionately.

"What time is it?" you ask quietly and Santana furrows her brows.

"Why?"

"My parents are picking me up at midnight." You tell her and her brows lift as she loosens her hold on you.

You give a sad smile and she nods, pulling away, "Right." She wets her lips and gathers your clothes, handing you yours before grabbing her phone and checking the time. "It's 11:23." She tells you and you drop your shoulders.

You jump when you phone rings and Santana stops from leaving the room to clean up, looking at you with a conflicted expression.

You look at the screen and groan, letting it go to voicemail before sending your mom a text letting them know you'll be right out. You get up and grab your bag, Santana going to the kitchen and dropping everything on the counter before walking you to the front door. You peek out the window and frown at seeing your parents just pull up and look back at Santana.

She smiles faintly and you frown, stepping forwards and throw your arms around her neck. She hums and returns the embrace, kissing the crook of your neck before you pull back.

"I missed you too, San." You tell her and she cracks a grin before stepping closer and pulling you into a slow passionate kiss.

"Give me your phone." She says and you hand it over without any questions. You watch her put her number in and smile when she hands it back after sending herself your number, "Text me whenever. Or call." She shrugs.

You nod and turn to leave before pausing, "So…will you be back for Thanksgiving?" you ask and Santana bites her lip.

"That's like 2 months away." She says and you shift, "I can always come here for weekends, Britt." She says with a cute smile. You break out into a beaming grin and jump at her, kissing her happily. She chuckles into the kiss and squeezes your waist, nudging your nose with hers before you separate. "I'll be back, this time." She says and you let out a breath, nodding before you slip from the house.

"So how did it go?" Albert asks once you put your seat belt on and he pulls from the curb.

New Message: Santana ;)

Breadstix, next Friday?

You smile and type out a reply of can't wait, resting your head back against the seat, "You were right. It was awesome."

A/N: LOL! Hope you liked it!

-B