Fic: Flashbacks 26/?
Santana pulls up at her house, she could see her from the living room window, she’d been standing there waiting, too eager to sit still on the couch next to Camden. Brittany bounces on her feet as she sees Santana shut the engine off, her interior light coming on, illuminating her features as she swipes down the visor and checks her reflection. She gets out of the car gracefully and Brittany moves away from the window, she doesn’t want to seem too much the eager beaver after all. The bell chimes and she kisses Camden on the cheek and whisks outside, he can hear them laughing away as they get in the car.
Santana is the perfect date, she holds open the car door for Brittany, before running round to get in her side, and producing a single yellow rose, muttering how she would have given it to her at the door but wasn’t sure if Camden would be there. It’s all so cheesy and cliché that Brittany loves it, it’s like every romantic movie she ever forced Santana to sit through. Brittany kisses Santana on the cheek, she squashes the replay of the kiss she just gave Camden, this one is completely different, this one makes her heart beat that little bit faster, her head swim lighter and the corners of her mouth twitch up. The effect on the receiver is completely different too, the familiar nod and smile of Camden, and the bashful smile and bright eyes of Santana. She prefers Santana’s, but that’s obvious, she’s dating her after all (even if she is married to Camden, she still squirms at the thought of cheating, but this is unstoppable, it’s like a wrecking ball hurtling its way into some unsuspecting building, there’s no way that building stands a chance. There’s no way she couldn’t be dating Santana.)
Santana opts for extra cheesiness as she heads to outskirts of the city, rushing into a drive through fast food chain and orders two fries and burgers, and two colas. It’s very high school. It’s exactly what they missed out on. She drives back out and bombs it down a freeway until they reach what looks like a drive-in theatre.
It had been a complete stroke of luck that this weekend had happened to fall into ‘Cinema Week’ and that they’d (who the hell ‘they’ are Santana doesn’t know, but she’s eternally grateful to them) decided to erect a huge cinema screen outside of town and show old movies. It was the just a stereotypical, teen date, in every old movie some guy would take his girl to the drive in, and Santana was certain Brittany would love it. Tonight’s screening was, after all, Grease followed by Dirty Dancing. Santana likes Grease, she likes the attitude and the songs, but she never got the hype around Patrick Swayze and to be honest she didn’t see what was so amazing about the dancing; Brittany used to dance better, but Brittany loved it and so she must have seen it at least twenty times, nineteen times too many, but then she’d watch paint dry if it’s what Brittany wanted to do.
Brittany squeals in excitement as the opening to Grease starts, humming along in between bites of her food. Santana’s not even watching the movie (not directly anyway, she can see it reflected in Brittany’s eyes) but instead gawping at Brittany’s features light up at “Greased Lightening”, her head bobbing along, her infectious smile making Santana beam. Brittany’s whole face is in utter awe during the dance off numbers, her hands twitching in resistance to doing the hand jive that Santana chuckles audibly, Brittany breaking her absorption and looking at Santana with a guilty smile on her face.
‘Just join in already.’
Brittany laughs and her hands go crazy as she attempts to recreate the scene, grabbing onto Santana’s hand to make her join in clumsily. The number finishes but Santana keeps her hands on Brittany’s and they fall to rest on the console, fingers entwined.
Half way through Dirty Dancing Brittany notices Santana’s fallen asleep; she never really did like the film so it doesn’t surprise her. It’s the first time Brittany’s able to look at her unrestrainedly, obviously it would have been inappropriate to stare when they first saw each other, and it’s just a little odd to stare at her under normal situations, not that she hasn’t ever just stared at her, because she used to, only Santana would blush furiously, for a girl that was, and wanted, to be head bitch at school she had security issues. And now with Santana asleep, Brittany uses the situation to take in as much of the woman as she can. She’s still the same as she ever was, her dark hair falling effortlessly around her face to frame her features, her eyebrows immaculate, her skin flawless, her lips shimmering slightly even in the dim light from the screen, her eyelashes trembling faintly as she sleeps, she’s still as heart stoppingly gorgeous as she was, if not more so. Only with all her barriers down now, Brittany can see the wrinkles on her forehead, the bags under her eyes, ones that don’t just look the ones you get after a few nights of restless sleeps, these are anchored in, deep rooted, and a stabbing feeling in Brittany’s chest tells her they’re not sleep related. They’re her fault, and she knows it, they’re the mark of having been broken, she can only hope to erase them. She momentarily pictures Camden with bags under his eyes, evidence of another person she’s destroyed, but Santana moves in her sleep and Brittany loses her thoughts. Santana’s brow creases, her grip around Brittany’s hand tightens, her legs shake a little, and Brittany wonders what she’s dreaming about to cause this effect. Santana’s breaths are heavier, her chest rising and falling quicker than earlier, before she jerks awake. Her eyes are lost momentarily; a look of devastation is quickly blinked away before she turns to Brittany.
‘Eurgh, Swayze’s still offending my eyes.’
‘You were dreaming.’
‘Thankfully he wasn’t in it.’
‘What were you dreaming about?’
‘I can’t remember.’
Brittany knows she’s lying.