Title: Loved With Inspiration
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce (Glee)
Word Count: 4,411
Rating: MA for coarse language and sexual themes
Summary: "A tiny part of her mind marvels at how effortlessly Brittany can reduce her to a stuttering idiot with little more than a look. The rest of her is busy trying to remember how to breathe. And failing."

Disclaimer: Glee and all related characters are owned by Fox Networks. No profit has been made through the publishing of this work of fiction; it was created for entertainment purposes only.

Santana shifts restlessly from one foot to the other, clapping her hands to her biceps and rubbing them furiously to try and stave off the unusually deep February chill. When that has little effect, she decides that avoiding frostbitten fingers would be a more productive use of her time. She unzips her black quilted jacket just enough so that she can shove her fingers under her arms where they can share her body heat.

After a moment or two of complete silence, she growls and yanks one hand out to ring the Pierces' doorbell a second time. She quickly tucks her hand against the warmth of her armpit again and grumbles under her breath, steam billowing from between her lips with every huff. Her nose is starting to ache in the cold evening air, and she wonders briefly if nose jobs for frostbite victims would be covered by insurance. Just as she's about to pull out her phone, the front door swings open and she almost squeaks at the abruptness of it.

"Santana, dear! Good gracious, come in, come in! You know you don't have to stand on ceremony with us, especially when it's so miserable out."

Susan Pierce ushers Santana in, and the girl almost weeps in relief at the rush of warm air that presses around her as she steps into the house. She loves how the Pierce house always smells like pastries and cinnamon during the winter months. It fits the buttery yellows and creamy whites of the interior walls more than any other season, and it makes her feel completely at home in a way her own house rarely does.

She's about to respond to Susan when a flash of gold catches her eye and the words die on her tongue. She whips her head to the right and can't help the grin that stretches across her cheeks at the sight of Brittany approaching from the living room. It's criminal how good she looks even in pj pants and an oversized sweatshirt. Brittany's hair is tied up in a messy bun, and there isn't a speck of makeup on her face, and Santana wouldn't have it any other way. Her grin is returned with a flash of white teeth before the blonde flings herself at Santana, wrapping her in an enormous hug.

Susan rolls her eyes and heaves an exaggerated sigh, but smiles fondly at the two girls as she leaves them standing in the entryway.

"Brittany, at least help her out of her coat first," she admonishes with a laugh.

Brittany giggles as she pulls away and tugs playfully at the heavy snow jacket, running her fingers under the zipper until her knuckles brush lightly over Santana's chest. The smaller girl shrugs her off with a snort, and lets the jacket slide off her shoulders.

"I got it, Britts. You just keep your hands to yourself, thank you very much."

She grips the collar of her jacket and turns to hang it on the coat rack bolted to the wall by the front door. She has to rock up onto her toes to reach it, muttering as she does. "Geez, you people are tall. This thing is ridiculous."

She shrieks when cold fingertips graze the small of her back where her grey thermal has ridden up to expose the skin above her jeans. The unexpected sensation causes her to falter and she shies violently against the wall. She starts to turn and dodge out of Brittany's reach, but her right wrist doesn't follow the motion. "Oof! Oh what the- dammit my bracelet's caught on the stupid coat hook. Ugh."

She swivels in place so that her back is pressed against the wall under the rack and tugs uselessly at the bracelet. She's about to make a snide remark about Brittany's lack of assistance but she stops cold at the expression on her girlfriend's face.

Freckled cheeks have flushed scarlet, the tiniest of smirks hovers on pink lips, and the pure lust blazing in the girl's blue-turned-black eyes are enough to make Santana's knees buckle. Behind the lust is a glint of something else, something Santana's never seen before, and it makes her stomach flip and clench in the best way.

"Y-you uh...you gonna help me out Britts, or you just gonna stand there," she mumbles lamely.

The blonde steps up so that she's toe-to-toe with the brunette, and Santana feels her heart kick up its pace into hyper drive. One pale hand wraps around her bicep and begins to slide slowly up her trapped arm towards the offending accessory, but all Santana can focus on are the lips mere inches from her own. Brittany's other hand braces against the wall over Santana's left shoulder, and her thumb brushes lightly against Santana's neck. By now Santana's arm is tingling, and though she can't tell if it's because of the lack of blood flow or the gentle scrape of fingernails against her skin, she can't find it in herself to care either way. Brittany flicks her tongue out to wet her lips, and Santana's head spins.

"Up on your toes, San."

Her heart bottoms out somewhere in the vicinity of her belly button at the rough, gravelly quality to Brittany's voice, and it's all she can do to keep her balance long enough to do as she's told. Gentle fingers dance around her wrist for a moment before unhooking her, and when she sinks back down onto her heels she has to press herself even harder against the wall just to keep upright.

"W-we should uhm...we should...we..." The brunette's words trail off as Brittany drops her left hand so that it mirrors her right, trapping her in a cage of pale limbs. Blue eyes sear into brown before flickering down to full, red lips, and Brittany licks her own again. Santana swallows thickly and realizes she's far warmer than she ought to be, even in the Pierces' well-heated house. A tiny part of her mind marvels at how effortlessly Brittany can reduce her to a stuttering idiot with little more than a look. The rest of her is busy trying to remember how to breathe. And failing.

"Yeah, San?" The words are barely louder than a breath as she leans into Santana. She's no more than a couple millimeters away when Santana finally regains use of her mental faculties.

"Present!"

Brittany jerks back in shock at the sudden shout, but the surprise melts into smug satisfaction when she takes in Santana's stuttered breathing, heaving chest, and blown pupils. The look Brittany sweeps over Santana causes the smaller girl's face to flame, and she has to drop her eyes to hide her own arousal.

"Sorry. I meant, I have your present. You should open it. Right now. In the kitchen. Where your parents are."

Brittany chuckles and steps a back a couple feet with a shake of her head. Santana sighs in relief. She's been unusually wary of physical displays of affection beyond simple touch while the older Pierces are home ever since Susan almost walked in on her and Brittany in the middle of the afternoon, three Saturdays ago. Brittany's mother was none the wiser, but Santana refuses to take any chances after such a close call, much to Brittany's unending amusement - and growing frustration.

Brittany's eyes light up with joy and she dances in place, wiggling her butt in excitement. They both decided this year that instead of trying to top their big Valentine's blow-out gifts from last year, they were going to try something a little different this time around. Starting on February 1st, they would give each other one small gift ever other day - Santana on odd numbered days, Brittany on even. The gifts weren't allowed to be over $10 in value, and they had to be bought or made on the same day they were given.

At first Santana was a little apprehensive about the plan, as Brittany had always been more the more adept of the two of them at small romantic gestures, whereas she had a tendency to overcompensate with her gifts in her efforts to please. But, after the first few gifts had gone over without a hitch, she had slowly begun to gain confidence in her own abilities. She's particularly excited for today's gift, despite having nearly forgotten about it completely not ten minutes ago. It's the last gift she can give, since tomorrow is St. Valentine's, and she's done her best to go all out for it, in spite of the restrictions of their arrangement.

"Come on, you goof." Brittany drops a light kiss on the tip of Santana's nose before turning away. As she bounds gracefully into the kitchen, Santana takes one more steadying breath against the wall before fumbling through her jacket to find the tiny box buried deep in one of its pockets. She extracts it with a triumphant aha and follows after Brittany at a much more sedate pace. She pauses in the doorway and smiles at the utter ridiculousness of the scene before her.

Michael Pierce is stationed before the oven, singing a Nat King Cole song - poorly - at the top of his lungs, gesticulating wildly with a cream cheese covered wooden spoon. Every few seconds, Susan chimes in with a slightly more on-key harmony, all the while trying to snatch the spoon from her husband's hand to prevent anymore frosting from being splattered about the kitchen. Their antics are made even more ridiculous by the fact that they are wearing matching frilly pink aprons that both have 'Kiss the Cook' emblazoned across the chest.

Meanwhile, their daughter is perched on a stool at the far end of the island counter and clutching at the marble surface as if her life depends on it. Which, judging by the way she's laughing so uproariously, may very well be the case if Santana is any judge. She rushes over just in time to save Brittany from toppling right off her seat, and gives in to a few quiet giggles of her own. Once she's certain her girlfriend is no longer in mortal peril, she slides onto the stool to Brittany's right, maintaining light contact with her waist, her shoulder, her elbow, or her hand at all times.

Once the ruckus begins to quiet, Brittany turns to Santana expectantly. Santana, for her part, keeps her eyes steadfastly forward, not bothering to hide her growing smirk when she hears an exasperated sigh to her left.

"So Mrs. P- uh, Susan," she interrupts herself quickly when the formal address earns her a mild glare from the older woman. She's probably been told dozens of times by now to call Brittany's parents by their first names, but it's a tough habit to break, after years of quiet courtesy and respectful yes, ma'ams and no, sirs. "Any plans for the weekend?"

"Well it's funny you should ask dear, since that's just what Michael and I were discussing before he decided to bless us with one of his...energetic serenades." Michael lets out a rumbling laugh and bumps his hip into his wife's back.

"The best way to spread Valentine's cheer is singing loud for all to hear. Isn't that right, Britt-bee?" He shoots a cheeky wink over his misquote at Brittany, who unbends from glaring at Santana long enough to favor him with a giggle and a blown kiss. He mimes catching it and tucks it quickly into the pocket of his apron, patting it like he's captured a precious treasure. Santana can't really blame him for that, though. She happens to think Brittany kisses are to be treasured too. Her grin widens even further when Brittany whips right back to staring, and she has to edge ever so slightly to the right to keep wandering fingers from getting too close to her thigh - or the gift resting in her lap.

"Yes, dear. Thank you ever so much for that." Susan chuckles quietly and prods her husband back into position, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to get him to return to his cake frosting duties. "As I was saying, Michael and I were thinking it might be nice to go spend the weekend at my parents' house, catch up with some old family friends who will be in town tomorrow."

Santana can't help but deflate a little at this news, assuming that Brittany will be going along with the couple. She musters up her best I'm-totally-bummed-but-I'll-put-on-a-brave-face-about-it smile and mumbles, "I'm sure they'll love seeing the three of you again." She's about to ask when they're planning on leaving, with the hope that if it isn't too early she'll at least be allowed to take Brittany out for hot chocolate tomorrow morning before they all leave, when Susan speaks up again.

"Well, now that's the thing. Mike's car is in the shop again, and my company car is on loan to one of those New York yahoos for the next two weeks, so we only have Brittany's truck at the moment. Since the cab only seats two, I think we may have to ask Brittany to sit this particular trip out. Unless you're desperate to go, sweetheart? You did just see them last weekend, but if you have your heart set on going with us..." Susan lets her sentence trail off and looks to Brittany, who appears to be in wide-eyed shock. While Santana's parents haven't really had any qualms about leaving her on her own for days at a time since age 15, the Pierces have always been very conscientious of their daughter's whereabouts - and that she remain under adult supervision as much as possible.

She blinks a few times before glancing at Santana, who is watching her with a painfully hopeful expression. "You mean, I would stay here? Alone? Without you guys?" She shifts her gaze back to her mother, who now has a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

"Hmm, you have a point there. I don't really like the idea of you being home alone for three whole days..."

Santana feels the brief flicker of hope within her start to fade. She would gladly offer to host Brittany at her house, but her parents were off on yet another one of their many 'business cruises.' Of course. No way would that fly.

"Santana, I don't suppose you would be willing to stay over for a couple days? Help Brittany keep an eye on things? I'd feel better if Britt-bee had a little company while we were gone."

Santana opens her mouth to wax eloquent on all the responsible things she would be sure to do in order to keep Brittany safe and well while the Pierces were away, but all that comes out is a high-pitched yelp, followed by her nearly crashing to the floor.

Apparently, at some point during the conversation Brittany had decided that since she couldn't manage to reach the present tucked between her girlfriend's legs, she'd go for a different prize instead. Her hand had made it almost entirely over the crest of Santana's left thigh, and was well on its way to the seam just below Santana's fly when the brunette finally noticed.

Once Santana manages to regain her balance, and some semblance of her pride, she shoots a stern glance at Brittany before sliding onto a stool on the other end of the counter. Returning her attention to Susan, she flushes hotly when she notices the woman's confused yet all-too-knowing expression.

"Uhm, that's..I mean, I would be happy to. Keep Britt company, that is. Are you sure you're okay with it just being the two of us, though?" Despite the incredulous expression now adorning Brittany's face, she lets the question stand. She feels completely justified when both Michael and Susan reward her with twin looks of fondness and approval.

"Oh I'm sure you two will be just fine without us, right Angelface?" Michael grins at his wife, who rolls her eyes at the silly endearment, but nods in agreement nonetheless.

"I have complete faith in the both of you, Santana. After all, Brittany's eighteen and you're nearly there yourself, not to mention the fact that you're both soon-to-be high school graduates. It's about time we let Britt-bee have a little responsibility of her own."

Anything else she might have said is completely lost on the two girls, who are now staring at each other with such shining expressions of excitement that Santana is half convinced that one or both of them may just spontaneously combust from the joy of it all.

Without a word, Brittany leaps to her feet and wraps each of her parents in enormous hugs, then grabs Santana by the wrist and nearly drags her from the room. She doesn't slow down until they reach her room, at which point Santana so overcome with giggles at Brittany's enthusiasm that she can barely stand upright. She stumbles drunkenly over to Brittany's bed, and it's several moments before she can breathe normally again. Her laughter fades away completely when Brittany silently walks up to her and straddles her hips, pulling her into a deep kiss that nearly takes Santana's breath away again. She leans back a few inches and catches Brittany's eyes with her own, and she's shocked by how dark those blue eyes have gotten in such a short period of time. Brittany looms in for another kiss, and pouts heavily when Santana places one hand on her chest, pushing her away gently.

"Present, Britts. I thought you wanted your present?"

"I want you."

Santana smirks at the impatience in the words, but keeps her hand firmly in place. "Oh, well if you don't want it..." She holds the present out of the blonde's reach teasingly, laughing when she almost capsizes them both in her effort to reach the box. Finally, Brittany climbs off her lap and flounces onto the edge of the bed next her, letting out a low whine.

"San-tan-aaaaa!"

"Well since you asked so nicely." Santana hands the box over, and chuckles when it's snatched out her hands almost quicker than she can follow.

Brittany rips the top off the tiny box, but then nearly drops it when one hand flies to cover the gasp that escapes her lips. She stares at the contents of the box, stock still, and is silent for so long that Santana begins to worry.

"Britts? Is it okay? I asked your mom, and she gave it to me, and I thought it would be kind of romantic..." No response. Santana slouches down a little in an attempt to catch the blonde's eye and lets out a gasp of her own when she notices the tears starting to trickle. In a flash she's on her knees before Brittany, babbling apologies faster than she can even think them. "Oh God, baby, I'm so sorry! Please don't cry! I should have asked you first, I knew you were attached- I'm so so so sorry! I can try and wel-" her stream is cut off by a rough kiss, brimming with just as much, if not more passion than the one that preceded it a few moments prior.

When Brittany finally lets her surface for air, she just stares dazedly, face beaming with a goofy grin, trying to focus through the haze in her brain long enough to figure out if she's still in trouble or not. She touches the hand still holding the box tentatively, and looks questioningly at the girl still seated above her. "Britts?"

"Santana."

Her name is said so softly she can barely credit it, but for the absolute adoration spilling out of Brittany's eyes.

"Is this...is this what I think it is?" She picks up one of the rings for the first time, holding it between her thumb and forefinger carefully, as if it might crumble or disappear at any moment. The silver metal is thick and slightly uneven from where Santana inexpertly pounded it into its new shape. The intricately delicate designs inlaid along the surface are still perfectly preserved, and only the seam where the two ends of what used to be the handle of a spoon have been welded together show proof that the ring was made by someone less than a master at their craft.

Santana takes the ring gently from her girlfriend's trembling fingers and, with a final wordless request for approval, slides it onto Brittany's left ring finger, noting with a certain satisfaction that it fits perfectly. "I made them from the handles of the little spoons our parents got for us when we were babies. I was so excited when I found out that your parents got yours from the same place mine did. I mean, how incredible is that? So I asked your mom if I could have yours, and got mine from my mom, and talked my cousin Marcus into helping me turn the handles into rings. I have the bowls of the spoons still, if you want yours..." She stops when she notices the slight furrow to Brittany's brow, and her heart stutters in fear. "Britts? What's wrong?"

Brittany glances up from ring and her face immediately relaxes into a smile, which in turn relaxes Santana. "Nothing's wrong, babe, it's just that I think you gave me the wrong one. This one has an 'S' on it."

Santana shakes her head and reaches for the box, plucking the other ring out from where it's nestled among the wads of tissue paper. Making sure that the bottom end of the spoon handle serving as the top of the ring is facing out, she carefully slides the ring onto her own finger. She wiggles her finger slightly so that the light catches on the 'B' carved into her own ring, and Brittany gasps in recognition when she sees how it fits against dark skin flawlessly. "I thought it would be more special if...if we wore each other's, you know? Like, personalized promise rings or something."

She's about to explain further when suddenly she's hoisted up and thrown bodily onto the bed. In a flash, Brittany is on top of her and covering her in furious kisses. Long fingers work their way under her shirt and almost make it to her bra when she finally manages to halt their progress. Brittany groans in frustration. "Babe, please."

Santana pants for a few moments, then carefully rolls out from under the taller girl. "Much as I would love for you to show me just how much you liked my gift, not now." When Brittany groans again, she can't help but smile. "Britts, baby, your parents are still home! Gimme a break here! I really don't think the best way to prove to them that we can be responsible adults is to have them walk in on us in the middle of- you know." The blonde sighs in defeat and rolls off the bed, moving stand in front of Santana. When a couple minutes pass without a word from either of them, Santana shifts uneasily, unable to contain her doubt any longer. "You do like them, right? The rings?"

Brittany reaches out and snags Santana's left hand in her right, thumbing gently over the newest addition. "I love the rings. Almost as much as I love you. They're wonderful, San. Thank you so much." She pulls her into a bone-crushing hug, and Santana heaves a sigh of relief and sends a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens.

As they pull back from the embrace she opens her mouth to suggest that they go back downstairs to show Brittany's parents the rings, but the words are stolen right out of her mouth when she catches sight of Brittany's expression. The look of pure, unadulterated lust is back, along with the subtle glimmer she still can't define, and she gulps.

"I can't wait to give you your present tomorrow, babe, and show you just how much I love mine."

Santana feels her legs go weak again, and she lets out an undignified squeak at the blatant caress across her stomach as Brittany saunters past her towards the bedroom door. She turns to follow her out, but stops before she can even take a step when Brittany pauses at the door. She turns her head just enough so that Santana can see the sly cheshire grin spreading across her lips before speaking.

"Oh, and San? You really shouldn't have teased me earlier. That wasn't very good planning on your part, babe. Not when I have you all to myself tomorrow. All. Day."

Santana's knees give out on her completely, and she collapses bonelessly onto the bed. "Jesus Christ, what have I gotten myself into?"

A/N: I hope to have the second part of this up tonight or early tomorrow morning at the latest. Happy St. Valentine's Day, and thank you for reading.