Summary: "Okay, I give up," Santana sighed, staring at the piece of paper that was decorated with the letter V, crudely drawn in red crayon. "What is it?" Brittany giggled. "Don't you get it, 'Tana? It's my V-card!"
Freshman Brittana and talk of literal V-cards, with some unabashed fluff thrown in.
~O~O~
"Santana, I have something special for you!" fifteen-ear-old Brittany Pierce chirped enthusiastically one day after school in freshman year as she bounded over to her best friend, Santana Lopez. The blond girl skipped to a stop in front of her friend's locker, her Cheerio skirt swishing against her thighs and drawing Santana's eyes down