santana and brittany

brittany's 20th birthday

Santana looks at me and I raise my eyebrows.

"And I'm sorry for slapping you."

Chantel laughs, "I would've done the same thing."

Santana wraps her arms around Chantel and pulls her into a short but meaningful hug. I clap and whoop for them because I can really see this turning into a friendship. Unless Santana lied and only said that so that I won't be on her case later on tonight.

Chantel stays over and we just sit in the living room and talk. Based on what we were talking about, you would've never guessed that we had problems in the past. But, still, I can't figure out if Santana is actually being nice or if she's just playing it off to make me happy.

"Yeah, I'll text you and let you know what we're doing tomorrow," Santana tells Chantel as she walks her to the front door

"Bye Chantel." I say and she smiles

Santana closes and locks the door once Chantel walks out. I follow her into the kitchen, where she starts to box up the spaghetti and meatballs she made. I smile and place my hand on her lower back.

"You're not gonna eat this, right?" she asks and I shake my head

"But I'll eat something else." I say and I move my hand down lower, so that it's resting on top of her ass. She looks up at me and rolls her eyes, "You should've told me you were cooking. I would've never ate."

"I wanted to surprise you since it's the only thing I can do these day." Santana says in a low tone of voice. I don't know if that was shade thrown at me or if it was her throwing shade at herself. She takes the containers and puts them in the fridge.

"How was work today?" I ask her and she shrugs her shoulders

"It was work." Santana has a look on her face and I know the look so well. It's the 'I'm tired/hurt but I'm not gonna say anything' look. Santana doesn't like to complain about things she knows she has to do, so she's not gonna complain about work.

I pull Santana against me and wrap my arms around her neck and she wraps hers around my torso.

"Let's go to bed, so that I can make it all better."

"No," Santana shakes her head and pulls away from me, "No, it's your birthday and I should be making you feel good, but I can't anymore because I'm a bad girlfriend and all I do is work and sleep. I should've been the one to take you to lunch and shopping, and I should've been able to surprise you with dinner, but I couldn't because I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck. I..."

"You do not suck," I cut Santana off and she crosses her arms over her chest, "You are the best girlfriend I could possibly have. I wanna make you feel you better because I know how hard you work and I know having me as a girlfriend isn't easy, so I don't pay attention to the little things you don't do." I intertwine our fingers and grin, "The list of things you don't do is really small compared to the things you do do." I laugh realizing what I said, "Now, let's go into the room, so that I can make you feel better."

Santana groans as I pull her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, but I know that she wants it.

*

"Waffles, eggs, bacon, and strawberry milk." Santana says as she walks into the bedroom carrying a tray with all of those foods in it.