#december 01

Tom Hiddleston with fans at Stage Door - Bernard B Jacobs Theater in New York City - December 01, 2019.

Gleecember 2025

December 01 – Surprise

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Santana shivered into semi-awakeness and rolled over, seeking the warmth of her wife's body, only to discover cold sheets where her wife should be. Santana grumbled and blearily opened one eye, seeking out the bedside clock.

9:33 am.

What the hell? She thought, sitting up. It was the first day of their month long hiatus from everything: no tours, classes, rehearsals, studio time – nothing. Thirty-two days of Brittany and Santana time. Time to reconnect after too many days and weeks apart. She huffed a sigh and grumbled and groused her way out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom.

Once finished, she trudged downstairs in search of Brittany. A cold draft was wafting up the stairs. She found the cause at the bottom; the front door was open. She closed the door, throwing the lock as she turned toward the living room.

“Britt, why …” she started before spotting the blonde sitting on the couch starting at the coffee table.

“What's that?” Her voice cracked with nerves at what she hoped she wasn't seeing.

“Basket.” Came the distracted, monotone response.

Santana took a deep breath.

“I can see that,” she said slowly, trying to stay calm, “why is there a basket on the coffee table?”

“I didn't know where else to put it.”

Santana sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Britt, honey, where did it come from?” Her tone was soft, soothing; she was trying desperately to remain calm.

“We were out of creamer.”

Santana blinked, as if doing so would clear the image.

“So you bought a basket of babies?” Her tone was incredulous as she lost her battle to remain calm.

Brittany's head snapped up at Santana's tone – as if she just realized Santana was there.

“What?” She shook her head. “No.” She let out a long breath. “I woke up and came down to make breakfast and saw we were out of creamer. So I was going to run to the store but when I opened the door, I found this on the porch.” Santana finally looked at her wife properly and noticed she was wearing her running shoes and a light jacket.

“There was no note? Anything to tell us where they came from?”

Brittany shook her head. “I honestly didn't think to look. I was kind of surprised by the basket and just brought it in to get the babies out of the cold.”

Santana went back to the door, unlocking it and opening it carefully – as if afraid another basket might appear. She stuck her head out and glanced around the porch, her eyes lighting on a manila envelope sticking out of the mailbox.

She walked into the living and collapsed onto the couch next to Brittany, opening the envelope.

“This was in the mailbox.” She leafed through the sheaf of papers, gaining no clarity only more confusion.

“Britt, you know we …”

One of the babies started whimpering and Brittany automatically reached for it.

“Britt, don't …”