Author's Note: Here we go, the epilogue, a year later...so, TODAY! Sorry for the fog, New York travelers, I totally didn't see THAT coming when I wrote this. But we all have a BWI Airport horror story, right? (I totally slept in a stranger's house once because I got fogged in...YIKES) Have the happiest of holidays, see you all with new things and continuations of my ongoing stories in the new year!

Baltimore, Maryland—Eastern Standard Time

December 24, 2015

Good afternoon, passengers of flight 2132 bound for New York-JFK Airport. Due to dangerous fog conditions in New York, this flight has been delayed until tomorrow morning at eleven-ten. That is eleven-ten tomorrow morning. We thank you for your patience, and wish you a happy holiday.

Fuck. Like actually, fuck. I should have known when I'd taken an assignment that ended on December 23rd that something was bound to go wrong, but do I ever learn? No. Clearly, never. And so there I was, on Christmas Eve, stuck in Baltimore, where my connecting flight had been cancelled. And my girlfriend? Well, she was in New York, waiting for me to go to Christmas dinner at her parents' house.

Yes, my girlfriend. Still Santana. Does that surprise you? It still surprises me sometimes, honestly. She's something else, that woman, I'm telling you. While I'd definitely cut my number of assignments down a little—much to the irritation of my boss, I think, since I'd been the only one willing to visit close to thirty countries in a fifty-two week span—I was still gone a lot, definitely way more than most people's girlfriends, that's for sure. But we made do. We were in near constant contact through text, we managed to FaceTime every day, no matter what time zone I was in, she'd come to Europe with me for a week over the summer, and we had definitely turned phone sex into an art. I was head over heels in love with her, and things were going amazingly, except for the fact that I'd obviously scheduled my returning flight home from Panama way to close to Christmas, our first anniversary, and, you know, the day I was going to propose to her, but minor details.

'Hey babe!" Santana miraculously picked up her phone, even though I knew she had back to back patients until two, when she'd made these big plans to come meet me at the airport. Sometimes we like to reenact rom-com scenarios, we're pretty cute like that.

"Hi baby." She could hear it in my voice, I knew she could, and I kind of wanted to cry. I'd seriously been planning this whole dumb night in my head for a month, and why I'd expected it to go off without a hitch was beyond me. I knew myself, didn't I?

'What's wrong, Britt?'

"Is it foggy there?" Yes, obviously I was going to check. I flew on a lot of planes, and still, I wasn't sure how trustworthy those announcer people were.

'Uh, yeah. It's been pretty miserable today actually. I swear, it doesn't even feel like Christmas when I don't even have a thermal under my scrubs, and I'm freaking sweating in my lab coat.' She ranted, and I didn't really know if I should smile at her cute, or cry because I was about to make it feel less like Christmas. 'Wait, why?'

"Santana, I'm really sorry."

'What? Why are you—? Oh." She sucked in a breath on the other end of the line, and I bit my tongue. 'You're stuck.'

"They rescheduled my flight for tomorrow at like eleven. I'm gonna try and get on another flight, but if it's that foggy there, it's probably not an airline thing. Fuck, I'm sorry."

'Britt, stop, it's not your fault. I love you, I think you're incredibly multi-talented, but as far as I know, you haven't been able to change the weather yet.'

"Did you watch The Year Without a Santa Claus without me?" So it was all I could think of to say, talking about changing the weather, Heat Miser and Snow Miser. Obviously, my brain was broken from being so upset.

'I didn't, I know it's your favorite, and I set your DVR to record it so we could watch it in your bed when you got home.'

"And this is why I love you."

'Because I record you seventies Christmas specials?'

"That, and also because you're cute and think that I'm going to remember that I want to watch that when I have my sexy girlfriend in my bed."

'We have to come up for air at some point.' She laughed, and that was like, the worst thing for me, the pangs of homesickness that hit me whenever I heard her laugh. It sucked, like the worst.

"I miss you." So maybe it came out like a whimper, whatever, it was Santana, I could be however pathetically shmoopy as I wanted to be. My hands went to my neck, and I ran my thumb over the coordinates on the bar necklace she'd given me for my birthday. 40°44N/74°00'W, close to my heart no matter where in the world I was.

'I really miss you too, Britt, and I hate that you're going to be stuck alone in an airport on Christmas Eve.'

"I just hate that I'm not with you."

'Britt.' She sniffled, then I sniffled, and then I became a stupid crying mess in the airport, and she became a stupid crying mess in her office. We were a pair, that's for sure. 'I gotta go, I've got a patient, but keep me posted, okay?'

"Mhmm, I will. I love you, baby."

'Love you too, and can't wait to have you back.'

I hung up the phone. I went up to the counter and asked about another flight, my heart sinking that I was right, and I couldn't get on another plane to New York. While I probably should have just gone to find a hotel room before they all booked up, I just sank back into a seat, feeling utterly depressed. Due to my obsession with bad Christmas movies, I sat there for twenty-five minutes, expecting the pilot to suddenly escort me to a private fog-proof plane, or for Santa to appear with Santana in the back of his sleigh, wrapped in a bow or something. Obviously, that didn't happen, bummer. I put my hand in my pocket, felt around for the ring that was there, then sang some Alanis to myself. What it all comes down to is that everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine. Yeah, Alanis? You sure about that? Can you use your magic powers of fake irony to maybe send me one of those free rides or something? Ugh. I looked around the airport, and that's pretty much all I saw, a sweeping state of ugh going on. Stuck in an airport for Christmas, that is definitely Alanis level irony.

"Boyfriend back home?" I turned my head to the woman next to me, who was obviously one of those plane-chatty type of people, who there was probably a special place in hell for. But she kind of reminded me of my Granny, and it was Christmas, so just because my heart was shrinking like the Grinch because I couldn't get honor, that didn't mean I'd be rude.

"Girlfriend, actually. Maybe fiancée soon." I tried to shrug it off, but can you imagine the dopey grin on my face when I said that? Definitely the dopiest. "Today's our anniversary, and I was going to propose, and like, I'm really trying not end up pulling a me and call her up and being like marry me over the phone, and then inevitably saying something about diarrhea. Jeeze, I'm sorry, I'm doing it now."

Okay, so maybe I was one of those people. Will I see any of you in hell?

"That's...well that's a shame that you can't be with her. She's probably a really special girl..."

Yeah, okay, so I knew that the woman was probably thinking I was a total weirdo, and that maybe this maybe-almost-fiancée of mine was a figment of my imagination, but because I couldn't help myself, I swiped through the pictures in my phone, finding the one she'd sent me the day before, chin on her hand, pouting in front of the Christmas tree on her desk that I wasn't home yet. Have I mentioned she's the cutest? She is. No competition.

"She's very pretty."

"Right? She's a nurse practitioner and has her own practice, she's also amazing at like...everything." Then I blushed, because I was totally gushing and probably sounded ridiculous. "Anyway, sorry, I travel a lot for work, so I was just hoping to be home for Christmas. You're going to New York too?"

"I am. It's my granddaughter's first Christmas, so let's just hope this fog lifts before I miss it completely. Here, now it's my turn to show off my girl."

"She's so cute." I looked at the picture on her phone and smiled at her. She was really, really cute, with this super dark curly hair, and obviously, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about how a baby with Santana might look like that. You know, if she said yes to my proposal. "Aw man, that sucks that you're missing Christmas Eve with her."

"Yeah, if I felt confident about driving up there, I'd be already at the car rental place."

"Wait, what?" I didn't even think of that. How did I not think of that? Baltimore was less than a four hour drive from New York, and yeah, maybe the fog and traffic would add a bunch of time on the trip, and maybe I wouldn't make it to Santana's parents for dinner, but if I could just get into bed with her before midnight, it would be so worth it. "I'm gonna do that." I paused, considered, and took in this woman who is met five minutes ago. "Do you want to come?"

"Oh, I—"

"I mean, I promise I'm not a murderer or anything. I mean, would a murderer tell you they're a murderer? No, no, hold on, let me start over. I'm Brittany, I'm a photographer, I'm also a really safe driver, I've driven on six continents, and I have a totally clean license. If you wanna come and get home in time for Christmas Eve with your granddaughter, I'm totally happy to have the company." Maybe I was nuts, and maybe other don't just invite strangers on a mad dash up the east coast, but it was Christmas, and it was her suggestion for me to rent a car to begin with.

"You're certainly an interesting character, aren't you?"

"Sorry, it's just a thing I do. I spend most of my time watching people—not in a creepy way, in a photographer way—and I get weird when I actually have to talk to them. Santana calls it endearing, which is probably just a nice way of saying weird but..."

"She sounds like she really loves you." She picked her handbag up and stood, holding out her hand. "I'm Olivia, let's go to New York."

So it turns out, Olivia was actually some kind of miracle Christmas angel—since obviously I believe in Christmas magic, especially when it comes to finding my way to Santana—and she knew exactly how to find the rental cars in BWI, and even stepped in and somehow got us a bright blue Honda Civic when the agent insisted that all he had were premium cars that were was jacked up in price. I would gave paid it, obviously, since the idea was in my head of making it home, but still, it was nice to not have to, and even nicer to be able to split the cost. I might have a wedding to pay for, after all.

Deciding at this point, knowing I'd never make it in time for dinner with Santana's parents, that maybe it would be fun to be her Christmas surprise—I know, it was kind of a lame fucking surprise SURPRISE! I was supposed to be here and then I wasn't, but then I drove two hundred miles because I love you, classic. Honestly if she called me, I probably would have completely caved and told her, but she was so busy getting ready that she didn't, and even though there was an obscene amount of traffic and slow going in the fog, I felt sort of giddy knowing that I'd just knock on her door and surprise her in…maybe eighty-seven hours, if the traffic ever moved. We were somewhere still south of Philly, three hours into our trip, in stopped traffic, when my phone vibrated between my legs. Olivia was in the middle of a story about her granddaughter, and I didn't want to be rude, but…

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:43:12PM]: Hey babe. Just got to my parents'. Miss you. Love you. :*

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:43:21PM]: Miss you, love you too. Tell them I'm sorry, and Merry Christmas, and I hope they like the wine.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:43:48PM]: You and that Spanish wine :P

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:44:02PM]: First time I drank it, I asked you to come to Spain with me, can you blame me?

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:44:19PM]: First time I drank it, I was IN Spain with you, so no.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:44:28PM]: Also, I kinda promised Tubbs he was going home tonight. Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight?

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:44:47PM]: Anxious to get in my bed? ;)

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:45:01PM]: Always.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:45:13PM]: So then I should come right to mine and show you WHY you're anxious to be in my bed?

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:45:31PM]: I see where you're going with this, Pierce. No sexting at Christmas dinner.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:45:46PM]: Is that in the Bible?

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:46:05PM]: It's in the Santana Lopez rules for life.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:46:12PM]: Bye, Britt. Love you.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:46:34PM]: Love you more.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:46:41PM]: :P

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 6:46:53PM]: Just imagine THAT.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 6:47:09PM]: STOP.

"I know that face." Olivia smiled from the passenger seat, and I turned about eight-hundred shades of red. Yes, that was red, even for me.

"She's at her parents'. I hate that I'm not there, so I was going to entertain her. But…anyway…"

"Hopefully we'll make it up there in time for breakfast." She waved off all of my stammering, and I tucked my phone back between my legs, knowing she wouldn't be able to text much while she was at dinner with her big extended family.

"If this is Philly, I'm scared of what traffic will be like in New York. No one is even moving. This fog is worse than a snowstorm." I banged my hands on the steering wheel and rolled my eyes. At this rate, that morning flight would get in before we did. "How about a little Christmas magic?"

So obviously, my summoning Christmas magic didn't work. Honestly, I'd sort of half-expected the traffic to be parted making a path for me to zip through. I know, wrong holiday, wrong religion, but still, it would have been cool, no? Honestly, I was really glad I'd asked Olivia to come with me though. Not only did she buy me dinner at a McDonald's off of I-95, but she was also so entertaining, telling me stories about her own surprisingly wild childhood. Considering she was wearing a brooch and Clark's shoes, I was shocked, and laughed a little, thinking of me as an old lady someday, hopefully with Santana, and hopefully not stuck in traffic, going to visit our grandbaby for Christmas. Yeah, cue a big dopey grin, because that's adorable.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 10:06:32PM]: [IMAGE 01825 SENT]

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 10:06:19PM]: Didn't let them rope me into mass. Wish you were here.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 10:06:38PM]: Sending me pictures of you in my bed is rude.

FROM: MY SEXY NURSE DOCTOR 3 [12/24/15 10:06:45PM]: Soon.

FROM: B. PIERCE [12/24/15 10:07:01PM]: SO SOON.

Little did she know how soon so soon really was, considering I was literally dropping Olivia off at her daughter's house on the Upper East Side, and accepting hugs and cookies and a bottle of brandy from her son-in-law, who was just so excited that she'd managed to make it up. It made me feel all kinds of festive, and God, I was less than a half hour away from Santana, less than a half hour away from maybe putting that ring in my pocket to good use. I kind of wanted to throw up, honestly, since that was kind of major, but if I threw up, it would totally be rainbows.

Once I had the car dropped off at the same rental car place that Santana had been headed to the first time we'd ran into each other in the street and had pizza—aw, like some kind of journey into our past before I proposed to her, I thought that was kind of cute—I dragged all of my bags through the pea soup fog, and when I saw a bodega still open, I ducked inside and bought the biggest bouquet of lilies I could find, maybe definitely shouting a merry Christmas to the man behind the counter, and skipping out the door. Providing I didn't get hit by a bus in the half a block I had to walk, I was home, and if you think I wasn't going to kiss the shit out of Santana on our Christmaversary, you are wrong. Her texts had been silent for awhile, and I knew her, she'd probably fallen asleep with her glasses still on, reading either some important medical text, or the trashiest magazine she could find. She was diverse like that.

When I got to the outside of my building, I sort of had a moment of panic that maybe Olivia had been a kindly old lady mugger, or I'd dropped the ring, box and all, down the toilet of that filthy rest stop in New Jersey, and I gripped at my pants pocked, breathing a sigh of relief when I felt the box. Then, I had another moment of panic because holy crap, I was going to propose to Santana, and double holy crap, what if she was pissed at me that I didn't tell her I was coming. I read a poem like that once, about a surprise party, and it gave me nightmares. Anyway, lack of forethought, that's my thing, right? Taking a breath, I opened the door, and I dragged all my crap up the three flights of stairs. I tried to be as quiet as possible when I unlocked the door, gasping when I opened it and saw the little tree, the lights, and my amazing, amazing girlfriend who'd decorated my freaking apartment for Christmas.

I seriously couldn't even with her, and I hushed Lord Tubbington's loud mewls with a treat from my pocket and looked over at her in the bed, sleeping just as I'd expected, her magazine on my pillow, glasses on her face, and her hair splayed out everywhere. No, but really, long distance sucked, but can I just say that the only thing that was kind of amazing about it was that every time I came back and saw her, I fell about a billion more times in love with her? Because really, it was actually sort of amazing. Anyway, screw the shower, screw everything—ha. ha. everything, not kidding—I pulled my jeans off, pulled my sweatshirt up over my head, and I slipped into bed under the covers behind Santana, pressing the softest kiss on the side of her face and tangling my bare legs with hers.

"Huh? What?" She stirred, looking so cute with her little scrunchy confused face.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

She turned around, and fuck she was wearing my Cheeseasaurus Rex shirt, and she smelled like her and home. God, it hit me so hard how much more I'd missed her than I thought, and I really never wanted to leave again.

"Holy fuck! Did I sleep for like fifteen hours?" She rubbed her eyes. "I got all this stuff for Christmas brunch, and I was going to make mimosas, and—"

"Santana, you've only been asleep for maybe an hour."

"Wait, what? How?"

"I didn't want to miss Christmas Eve with you and our anniversary, and stuff. I thought I might make it back for the end of dinner, but traffic was a nightmare."

"Traffic?"

"Oh, yeah, I met this old lady, Olivia, in the airport, and she was trying to get home to see her granddaughter for her first Christmas, but she wasn't comfortable driving, and then it was like, she was my Christmas angel or something, so I rented a car, and her and I just drove up here." I rambled out all in one breath, and a smile quirked on the corners of her mouth.

"You just drove here from Maryland with a strange old lady to make it home to me?"

"I know, it's totally crazy, but she didn't seem like a bank robber, or a jewelry robber, and I've still got the engagement ring and—" Oops. "Fuck, I was so close."

"Britt?"

"Yeah."

"Did I ever tell you that I love you?" She smiled this, like, ridiculous smile, the kind that made my heart all smushy.

I didn't even respond, as much as I just wanted to be like tell me again, over and over, until the day I die, I just kissed her over and over and over again. I mean, obviously, I'd been in Panama for two weeks, I had a lot of kissing to make up for. I scratched my fingers down her thighs, and finding that she was definitely not wearing any underwear, I rolled over on top of her and grazed my fingers through her wetness just to feel her. Well, okay, maybe more than just to feel her. Maybe I missed her a whole fucking lot, and I wanted to bury my fingers inside of her and make her writhe. Maybe just a little. I can tell you she didn't protest that, she just wrapped her legs around my waist and opened herself up further to me. She wove her fingers through my hair, and she pulled me closer, kissed me harder, and had to moan something about scissors three times, before I realized what it was she wanted.

Once I figured that out—duh, Brittany—I used one hand to slide out of my panties, while keeping the other sliding in and out of her. It was unreal how good it felt touching her, like, to the point where I'd literally gotten off more than once without her touching me. Actual sex goddess, ridiculous. Anyway, yes, I could get off without being touched, but that was not what was happening right there. She was so close that part of me wanted to duck under the covers and finish her with my mouth first, but her hands had left my hair and were digging into my ass, shifting her body so I could press our sexes together. Yeah, it's like goddamn electric sparks whenever we scissor—I mean, truth time, I totally lost my scissoring virginity to Santana, so, there's also that—and I just loved being able to touch her everywhere else and kiss her mouth, and basically drown in her while I made love to her.

She came first, and really quickly, given the fact that I'd been pretty frantic in my motions before this, but she didn't still her hips for a second, even as she gasped and panted. Somehow, she managed to get rid of my tank top and bra, and her mouth closed around one of my nipples, making me whimper and press down hard, chasing release in this frantic sort of way. She knew how desperate I was, how all the phone sex in the world didn't compare to the feel of skin on skin, the taste of her tongue, the bite of her nails, the noises she made in my ear, all of it, and she worked to push me over the edge, bringing her lips back to mine and sucking my tongue into her mouth. She drank in every moan, and when I came, she came with me a second time, falling back onto the pillows limp and tousled.

"God, babe." She panted, eyes flickering in the Christmas lights and her damp hair streaked across her forehead. "You didn't waste any time."

'Well." I bit my lip sheepishly. "I'm fairness, I'd planned on being home this afternoon, so this would have been like…eight hours later."

"I am not complaining." Santana laughed, and kissed me again, putting her hands on both sides of my face to study me. "You drove home to me, you are insane."

"Insanely in love with you." Okay, yeah, she makes me a giant cheeseball. World record holder cheeseball. Call up those people in Wisconsin, let them know that I've stripped them of their title. "How was dinner tonight?"

"Well, my abuela sat at the same table with me."

"Wait, what, really?"

"Yeah! I mean, she didn't say a word or anything, but, that felt like some kind of progress or something, I don't know."

"Baby! I'm so sorry I missed that, I mean, she might not have wanted to sit with you if I was there or anything, but…I don't know. I'm rambling."

"You, ramble? Never."

"Shut up." I laughed, and then, holy crap, I remembered about the ring and my plans, and saw that it was super close to midnight.

Without another word, I rolled out of bed and grabbed for my jeans, yanking the ring box out of the pocket and kneeling between her legs on the bed. She still had my shirt on, and she shuffled into a sitting position, looking at me with these big wide eyes. So obviously I loved her more, because she breathed and I loved her more, but…I was about to propose to her, so that was about a billion mores. It didn't even matter that I had planned this whole thing where I hung the ornament on her Christmas tree—since I'd figured we'd be spending Christmas Eve there—and like, had her search for it, or something. This, me, totally naked, in just my coordinate necklace, and her, looking so deliciously spent, felt way more like us, and I flipped open the box with my thumbs, not remembering what kind of order you were supposed to do these things in.

"Holy crap." She breathed, making both of us laugh, since that was totally my thing to say.

"I know, right? And I didn't even lose it."

"I love you, so fucking much, Brittany Susan Pierce." That head shake thing, remember that one I loved? Yeah, she did it. Hashtag favorite. "Like really, I've had the best year of my life being with you."

"Hey, sneaky, I'm supposed to be giving the speech." I started blinking crazy fast, because I knew I was going to start crying basically immediately. "Santana Lopez, I love you so much. Like this whole crazy amount, that makes my stomach still feel bubbly. It's seriously crazy that you made me want to put down all these roots, and gave me a place to come home to. I can't even explain what it is you mean to me, and how I'm so sure that I belong with you that I've stopped being so freaked out by good things happening to me, because they're happening with you. Fuck." I wiped my eyes, because I was really crying like a lot, and I was kind of afraid I was going to puke all over her. "Sorry. Sorry, I just…You've never asked me to change who I am, or give up doing what I love, and I am just so grateful for that. I love that I can be myself with you, even when I accidentally told the story of when I pooped my pants on the plane the first time I met your parents. I love that you love me, and if you agree to, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Yes! Of course I will!"

"Wait! I forgot to actually ask you!" I climbed up over her and took her hands. "Santana Lopez, will you marry me?"

"You…" She used the heels of her hands to wipe some of her tears, but they kept falling down and coating her lips, so I just had to kiss them away. "Yes, Britt. I'll marry you."

"Holy crap." I laughed, and she laughed, and she pulled me back down on her to kiss me deeply. The ring box still in my hand. "Can I say score?"

"Remember how you said you can be yourself with me? I'd be really offended if you didn't say score."

"Score!" I slipped the ring on her finger, and kissed the plan of her hand.

"I love you a whole lot."

"Eh, I kinda like you too." I shrugged and pursed my lips. "Best Christmas Eve ever!"

"Best year ever, Britt."