I Want to Hold Your Hand
Title: I Want to Hold Your Hand
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, minor Rachel/Quinn
Rating: G
Length: ~1,100
Summary: When you love somebody, you want to hold their hand.
Author's Note: Dedicated to mallardeer/inthehat for making this awesome piece of work off of a suggestion I made when she asked about good Santana/Brittany songs.
Santana had known Brittany for six months when she knew she was in love with her. They had met on the first day of kindergarten; Brittany was proudly showing off her brand new set of glitter crayons and Noah Puckerman took them from her and threw them on the ground. He had his foot high in the air ready to stomp when Santana took action and punched him in the stomach, just like her brother had taught her how to do. The boy cried and before she was hauled off to the principal’s office, Santana picked up the crayons and handed them to the tiny blonde who thanked her with the biggest smile Santana had ever seen. Getting yelled at was so worth it.
As expected, Santana and Brittany became fast best friends. Brittany let Santana use her glitter crayons any time she wanted and Santana tried to teach Brittany how to punch boys but the blonde would have none of it insisting it was mean. Santana shrugged.
“That’s okay I guess,” the tiny Latina said, “I’ll always protect you from them dumb boys, B.”
Brittany grinned and passed Santana the green glitter crayon, Santana’s favorite.
Santana enjoyed having Brittany as her only friend. They got along. They complimented each other. They learned to compromise. Brittany always wanted to play house and Santana always wanted to play superheroes. So, after a long day of fighting crime together as superheroes they crawled into Brittany’s playhouse in the back yard for their dinner of whatever snacks within reach in the kitchen. Santana was certain that’s how life would be forever and she definitely didn’t mind that.
“Mami? Can I ask you somethin’?”
Santana crawled up on the couch next to her mother one Saturday afternoon. Surprisingly enough she wasn’t with Brittany but it was only because the blonde’s family had gone to Indiana to visit their family.
“Of course, mi’ja. You know you can ask me anything.”
“How come um…how come you and Papi always hold hands?”
Santana’s mother smiled and opened her arms for the young girl to hop on her lap. Santana snuggled onto her mother's lap and smiled at the warmth and safety of the older Latina's arms around her.
“Because I love your Papi.”
“How d’you know you love him?”
“Because I want to hold his hand and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, mi’ja. I always want to be with him.”
Santana furrowed her eyebrows in thought for a moment.
“Why do you ask?”
Santana shrugged. “I think I love Brittany.”
Her mother smiled and squeezed her a little tighter. “You can love whoever you want, Santana. Love isn’t wrong, comprendes?”
Santana nodded.
Monday morning Santana was nervous. She was quiet as she made her way to her classroom and quiet when she sat down at her desk. She was fairly early, the only other people in the classroom were her teacher and Rachel Berry who was early for absolutely everything. And she sang. All the time. Santana didn’t let it bother her today, though. Because today was important. She watched as all the other kids started filing into the classroom. Finally, Brittany came bouncing in and her first stop was to put her backpack away and then to the seat next to Santana’s.
“Did you have lots of fun in Indiana?” Santana asked with a small smile.
“I did! My gran and my pop they um, they took me to a park! And there was ducks! An’ um, they told me, they said some of ‘em was um…” Brittany furrowed her eyebrows before the lightbulb finally went off. “Ballads! They said the boy ducks, those’re ballads! An’ I got you a bunch of stickers that says ‘Indiana’ on ‘em but my mommy said I hadda leave them at home ‘til you come over.”
Santana bounced in her seat a little. Before she could open her mouth to respond the teacher started ringing her bell signaling that class was beginning.
At recess Santana led Brittany to the swings, their favorite. They watched Noah kick sand at people and Rachel sat on the merry-go-round with Quinn Fabray and Santana saw Rachel look at Quinn the same way she looked at Brittany sometimes and wondered if maybe Rachel loved Quinn. When Rachel stood and offered the other blonde a hand and Quinn took it in her own and followed Rachel to the field to pick flowers, Santana smiled a little. She looked over at Brittany who was gazing up at the sky watching a flock of birds go by. She poked the blonde in the shoulder and held her hand out.
“What?” Brittany said.
Santana shook her hand insistently.
“Okay, it’s your hand.”
“I want to hold your hand,” Santana said with a smile.
Brittany grinned and looked at the outstretched hand.
“We should make it special,” she said. “Like a special hand holding that only we do.”
Santana shrugged. “Okay.”
Brittany pursed her lips in thought, Santana kept her hand held out. The blondes eyes lit up and she let go of the chain on the swing and stuck out her pinky finger.
“We’ll do it like this!”
“But I want to hold your hand,” Santana tried to argue.
“It’s the same. Only better ‘cause only we do it! It means we’re specialer.”
Santana stuck out her pinky finger and Brittany linked it with hers. It was a little awkward but Santana was pretty sure she could get used to it.
“How come you want to hold my hand anyways?” Brittany asked, her gaze returning to the sky.
“’Cause I love you and my mami said when you love somebody you wanna hold their hand.”
Brittany nodded. “My gran and pop hold hands.”
“Do you like holdin’ hands with me?”
Brittany grinned. “Yeah.”
“So’s that mean you love me?”
Brittany’s gaze dropped back to Santana and she blushed. “Yeah.”
-*-*-*-*-*-
“B?”
“Hm?”
Brittany shifted under the blankets and settled her head on Santana’s chest and wrapped her arm around the Latina’s bare waist. Santana had been in love with Brittany for twelve years. Things hadn’t been easy but they were getting better.
“I want to hold your hand,” Santana whispered.
Brittany stuck out her pinky and Santana linked it with hers.
“Love you, B.”
“Love you too, San.”
Oh yeah, I’ll tell you somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I say that somethin’s
I want to hold your hand
Pairing: Santana/Brittany, minor Rachel/Quinn
Rating: G
Length: ~1,100
Summary: When you love somebody, you want to hold their hand.
Author's Note: Dedicated to mallardeer/inthehat for making this awesome piece of work off of a suggestion I made when she asked about good Santana/Brittany songs.
Santana had known Brittany for six months when she knew she was in love with her. They had met on the first day of kindergarten; Brittany was proudly showing off her brand new set of glitter crayons and Noah Puckerman took them from her and threw them on the ground. He had his foot high in the air ready to stomp when Santana took action and punched him in the stomach, just like her brother had taught her how to do. The boy cried and before she was hauled off to the principal’s office, Santana picked up the crayons and handed them to the tiny blonde who thanked her with the biggest smile Santana had ever seen. Getting yelled at was so worth it.
As expected, Santana and Brittany became fast best friends. Brittany let Santana use her glitter crayons any time she wanted and Santana tried to teach Brittany how to punch boys but the blonde would have none of it insisting it was mean. Santana shrugged.
“That’s okay I guess,” the tiny Latina said, “I’ll always protect you from them dumb boys, B.”
Brittany grinned and passed Santana the green glitter crayon, Santana’s favorite.
Santana enjoyed having Brittany as her only friend. They got along. They complimented each other. They learned to compromise. Brittany always wanted to play house and Santana always wanted to play superheroes. So, after a long day of fighting crime together as superheroes they crawled into Brittany’s playhouse in the back yard for their dinner of whatever snacks within reach in the kitchen. Santana was certain that’s how life would be forever and she definitely didn’t mind that.
“Mami? Can I ask you somethin’?”
Santana crawled up on the couch next to her mother one Saturday afternoon. Surprisingly enough she wasn’t with Brittany but it was only because the blonde’s family had gone to Indiana to visit their family.
“Of course, mi’ja. You know you can ask me anything.”
“How come um…how come you and Papi always hold hands?”
Santana’s mother smiled and opened her arms for the young girl to hop on her lap. Santana snuggled onto her mother's lap and smiled at the warmth and safety of the older Latina's arms around her.
“Because I love your Papi.”
“How d’you know you love him?”
“Because I want to hold his hand and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, mi’ja. I always want to be with him.”
Santana furrowed her eyebrows in thought for a moment.
“Why do you ask?”
Santana shrugged. “I think I love Brittany.”
Her mother smiled and squeezed her a little tighter. “You can love whoever you want, Santana. Love isn’t wrong, comprendes?”
Santana nodded.
Monday morning Santana was nervous. She was quiet as she made her way to her classroom and quiet when she sat down at her desk. She was fairly early, the only other people in the classroom were her teacher and Rachel Berry who was early for absolutely everything. And she sang. All the time. Santana didn’t let it bother her today, though. Because today was important. She watched as all the other kids started filing into the classroom. Finally, Brittany came bouncing in and her first stop was to put her backpack away and then to the seat next to Santana’s.
“Did you have lots of fun in Indiana?” Santana asked with a small smile.
“I did! My gran and my pop they um, they took me to a park! And there was ducks! An’ um, they told me, they said some of ‘em was um…” Brittany furrowed her eyebrows before the lightbulb finally went off. “Ballads! They said the boy ducks, those’re ballads! An’ I got you a bunch of stickers that says ‘Indiana’ on ‘em but my mommy said I hadda leave them at home ‘til you come over.”
Santana bounced in her seat a little. Before she could open her mouth to respond the teacher started ringing her bell signaling that class was beginning.
At recess Santana led Brittany to the swings, their favorite. They watched Noah kick sand at people and Rachel sat on the merry-go-round with Quinn Fabray and Santana saw Rachel look at Quinn the same way she looked at Brittany sometimes and wondered if maybe Rachel loved Quinn. When Rachel stood and offered the other blonde a hand and Quinn took it in her own and followed Rachel to the field to pick flowers, Santana smiled a little. She looked over at Brittany who was gazing up at the sky watching a flock of birds go by. She poked the blonde in the shoulder and held her hand out.
“What?” Brittany said.
Santana shook her hand insistently.
“Okay, it’s your hand.”
“I want to hold your hand,” Santana said with a smile.
Brittany grinned and looked at the outstretched hand.
“We should make it special,” she said. “Like a special hand holding that only we do.”
Santana shrugged. “Okay.”
Brittany pursed her lips in thought, Santana kept her hand held out. The blondes eyes lit up and she let go of the chain on the swing and stuck out her pinky finger.
“We’ll do it like this!”
“But I want to hold your hand,” Santana tried to argue.
“It’s the same. Only better ‘cause only we do it! It means we’re specialer.”
Santana stuck out her pinky finger and Brittany linked it with hers. It was a little awkward but Santana was pretty sure she could get used to it.
“How come you want to hold my hand anyways?” Brittany asked, her gaze returning to the sky.
“’Cause I love you and my mami said when you love somebody you wanna hold their hand.”
Brittany nodded. “My gran and pop hold hands.”
“Do you like holdin’ hands with me?”
Brittany grinned. “Yeah.”
“So’s that mean you love me?”
Brittany’s gaze dropped back to Santana and she blushed. “Yeah.”
-*-*-*-*-*-
“B?”
“Hm?”
Brittany shifted under the blankets and settled her head on Santana’s chest and wrapped her arm around the Latina’s bare waist. Santana had been in love with Brittany for twelve years. Things hadn’t been easy but they were getting better.
“I want to hold your hand,” Santana whispered.
Brittany stuck out her pinky and Santana linked it with hers.
“Love you, B.”
“Love you too, San.”
Oh yeah, I’ll tell you somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I say that somethin’s
I want to hold your hand