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Brittany makes the Barbie doll in her hand do a brief jig. She subtly eyes Santana as the Barbie performs the splits. Brittany's toys love dancing as much as she does. She's only seven years old, but dancing is her number one priority - well, besides her best friend.
The little blonde watches her best friend control a Ninja Turtle action figure, her tongue poking out between plump lips as she intently moves the toy around. The Ninja Turtle easily bests the red Power Ranger in a battle, and Santana raises the green plastic figure above her head in victory.
"San?" Brittany begins, setting her doll down in her lap.
"Yeah, B?" Santana asks distractedly, clashing two more action figures together.
Brittany preemptively pouts as she gazes at her best friend. "Can we play house?"
Santana groans, "Not again, Britt. It's so boring. And you always make me be the husband."
"Please, Tana? I love playing house with you, you're my favorite." The little blonde pouts as hard as she is able.
Frowning, Santana drops her toys in the dirt. She can't deny Brittany's pout, but..."Can't Kurt play house with you?"
"Kurtie always wants to be the wife," Brittany admits, chewing her bottom lip. "He argues about cooking with me. I guess I could ask Finn or Noah to be my husband..."
At this, Santana fake gags. "Eww, gross, B, I'd be a way better husband than either of those morons."
Brittany giggles happily, producing two Barbies seemingly from behind her back. "Ok, so we're married and here's our kids, Barbie and Skipper," she begins.
"Seriously?" Santana interrupts. "We JUST got married, and we've already got two brats?"
"Shhh, you'll make our babies insecure," Brittany argues, successfully slapping her pale hand over the tiny Latina's mouth to silence her. "Anyway, our daughter Barbie wants our permission to date her boyfriend Ken."
Santana shoves Brittany's hand away. "Um, no, I don't think so. Our little girl is not dating till she's old, like 30 or something. That's super old. And especially not to some skeeve named Ken," she finishes haughtily, skinny arms crossing her front. "He's probably a jerk, and I'd have to go all Lima Heights on him and pull the razor blades out of my hair."
"But who else is she supposed to date, Tana?" the little blonde whines.
Santana resists the urge to roll her eyes. "I dunno, B, maybe one of the Ninja Turtles?"
Brittany picks up a green turtle figure and examines it before dropping it. "That's gross, S, our little girl deserves better."
"Ok, so she can date a Power Ranger!" Santana declares brightly, pulling a toy out of her collection.
"I guess," Brittany concedes reluctantly. "Is he gonna give her flowers? And hold her hand when a scary movie comes on TV? What about beating up the bullies that pick on her? Cause that's what you do for me," the blonde points out. "When I had chicken pox, you picked those dandelions from your backyard and brought them to me, even though you had to climb the side of the house and come in the window. And that was like three thousand feet you climbed for me." The little Latina's cheeks burn at the memory and she fidgets a bit. "And when my older sister put on that movie that had the guy with knives, you held my hand when I was scared." Brittany adds, her pale pinky searching out a darker digit and squeezing. "Finn Hudson pushed me out of the lunch line last week, and you gave him a black eye after."
"Duh, B, cause that's what I do to take care of you. You're my best friend," Santana admits, squeezing the blonde's pinky in return."I'll always bring you flowers, hide your eyes during scary movies, and beat up those that bully you."
Brittany leans forward and lays a soft kiss to the Latina's warm, puffy cheek. "Best husband ever!"
Santana allows the other girl to wrap her in a tight hug as the blonde's mother announces dinner is prepared in a loud voice. The two girls skip downstairs together, sharing bashful grins over the meal, until Santana's mother shows up to collect her daughter.
"Say goodnight, you two," Susan Pierce prods in a playful tone, a hand on each girls' back.
"Night Britt," the small brunette says bashfully, rubbing the back of her neck.
Sweetly, the little blonde casts another peck onto her friend's cheek, causing Santana to stutter and shuffle her feet. "Night, San."
The two mothers meet eyes over the little girls' heads, nodding to one another as Susan scoops up a tired little blonde and Maribel guides her child onto the short walk home.
"Mami," a tired Santana mumbles as Maribel tucks her into bed. "Whenever we play house, Britt wants me to be the husband. Do I look like a boy?"
Maribel chuckles, knowing that her little girl has many tom-boy ways but is still very much a girl. "No, mija, but to Brittany you represent the husband-type figure. You're strong and always take care of her, and protect her."
"I'll aways take care of Britt. That's my job; it's what best friends do. Does that mean I have to be her husband?" Santana innocently asks, eyelids drooping.
Smoothing dark hair away from her little girl's forehead, the older Latina ponders her answer. "Bebe, you can technically be anything you want, but in this case, you would be her wife. Husbands are typically boys, and you mija, are very much a girl."
"Mkay," Santana mumbles sleepily, snuggling into her pillow contentedly. "I'm gonna be Britt's wife so I can take care of her forever. Not now though, cause we're too young to get married. Probably when we're older, like ten, I'm gonna marry her. Then I'll be old enough to get a job mowing lawns so I can buy Britt-Britt as many Dots as she wants." A noisy yawn escapes the tiny Latina as her eyes flutter shut and a little snore emits from her pursed lips.
Maribel smiles to herself, pressing a soft kiss to her daughter's temple and pulling the bedcovers to the little girl's chin.
She runs into Carlos in the hallway outside Santana's bedroom. Maribel takes in his expression and tired eyes that he sports after a double shift at Lima General. "Hola, mi amor," the dark-haired woman says quietly, wrapping her arms around her husband's strong shoulders.
His dark brown eyes, so much like their daughter's, twinkle with love as he gazes down at her. "Hola, my lovely wife." His muscular arms wrap around Maribel's small waist.
"Our little mija is in love," she informs him, pushing her face into the crook of his neck.
Carlos pulls back in alarm. "Que?"
Maribel laughs and kisses his jaw. "Si, with the Pierce girl. They are getting married when they are 'old enough.' Meaning when they are ten and our little Santanita can earn money cutting grass to buy Brittany Dots candy and toys."
Throwing his head back, Carlos lets out a joyful laugh. "Well, Santi does take care of her. I can't say this is a surprise, they've been attached at the hip since Santana gave that Puckerman punk a black eye for stealing Brittany's crayons on the playground when they were four."
Three houses down, Susan carefully lays her sleeping blonde daughter onto her bed, kissing her forehead.
Brittany stirs awake slightly. "Mom?"
"Yes, baby?" Susan sweetly replies, rubbing the blonde's arm.
"Santana's my boyfriend," the little girl says tiredly, pulling her stuffed duck closer to her. "We are gonna get married when we're old enough. Probably fifth grade."
"Aww," Susan coos, kissing her little girl's hand. "Go to sleep, honey." Brittany's breathing evens out, signaling she has passed out.
Susan enters the kitchen and notices her phone ringing. She sees it's Maribel Lopez, and answers with a smile. "Hi, Mari."
"It seems we have a wedding to plan," the Latina teases.
The older blonde laughs. "Yes, it's true, but we have time. They are getting married when they are old enough, at ten, so we've got about three years to plan."
Maribel actually giggles at the statement. "Our girls are too cute. But I'll be proud to be a mother-in-law with you one day."
"Me too, Mari. I look forward to it," Susan promises.
Brittany suddenly stirs awake, squinting tiredly at Lord Tubbington who has draped his massive weight across her legs. She tries to remember what woke her, then brightens as she reaches her hand under the bed, sweeping cat toys aside in her eagerness. Her hand finds purchase on the hard plastic of the item. The blonde brings the battered old walkie talkie up to her mouth and presses the button. Abuelo Lopez had gifted the girls with the form of communication only months before he passed of cancer last year. "Silver unicorn reporting in."
Nearly a moment passes before there is a burst of static. "I'm here, Britt."
Failing to contain her grin, Brittany giddily sinks down onto her pillow while clutching the device. "I love you, San."
"I love you, too, B," Santana immediately responds.
"Forever?" the little blonde questions, holding her stuffed duck close to her chest.
"And ever. Till the end of time," Santana promises.
Brittany smiles. "Sing for me, Tana?"
Santana remembers back to a Fleetwood Mac record her Tia Carmen used to play for her. "And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before." Santana's raspy yet childlike voice sings as the blonde drifts off into slumber, the little brunette following shortly after.