A/N:I swear to God, this fic is so fluffy and sugary I could ice a cake with it.

Part Two

Despite all appearances, Puck was not completely wasted. Yet there he stood, singing into his beer bottle after ignoring Rachel's insistence he use one of her Bedazzled microphones.

I was working as a waitress
In a cocktail bar
That much is true
But even then I knew I'd find
A much better place
Either with or without you

"I find it hard to imagine Puck as a waitress," Santana commented idly, watching Puck essentially strut on the grass before them.

Rachel giggled next to her, "I bet Noah can be very sassy when he wants to." They were sitting at the patio table and the grass immediately before them had been dubbed the stage. The kids – except for Robert, who was sitting on Mercedes' lap – were all lying together on one of the loungers, watching their uncle make a fool of himself.

"Blaine," Rachel continued, looking past Santana and Kurt, "I am a little upset. Noah is singing our song."

"Your song?" the Latina asked.

"Yes, don't you remember? The party I threw in junior year – for Alcohol Awareness? Blaine and I dueted this song."

"We were pretty kickass," Blaine agreed.

"This song even sparked our doomed love affair. Really, I am a little peeved Noah would choose this one. It is mine and Blaine's song."

"Let him have his fun," Blaine laughed as Puck twirled around in a circle. "You and I know the truth, we killed it."

"That we did."

"You were a great duet partner, Rachel."

"Ahem," Kurt said loudly.

"I said great, darling, not my favourite."

"That's better."

By the time Puck had reached the chorus again he had beconed Brittany, who quickly kissed Santana on the temple before skipping over to join him. She gracefully twirled around him before joining in.

Don't you want me, baby

Don't you want me, oh

Don't you want me, baby

Don't you want me, oh

Once they finished Puck dropped himself back into his seat with all the grace of a semi-drunken elephant. Brittany stayed on their stage, beckoning Tina and Mercedes to join her. The darker woman stood and scrutinized the remaining adults before walking over and placing the baby in Santana's lap and then going to join Brittany and Tina in their choosing a song.

Santana sat very still, as if she didn't want the baby to notice her presence. He tipped his head back, looking up happily at her. He then offered her a joyful smile, complete with dimples.

"Um, hey."

The baby blinked at her.

Kurt sighed heavily next to her. "Santana, you do know he isn't a Fabergé egg, right?"

"Uh huh."

"You do also know that my child isn't a diseased leper, correct?"

"Uh huh."

Kurt pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose before leaning over and taking Santana's hands. Forcefully, he placed them on his son's hips. The baby cooed and leaned back against her chest but Santana made no movement to further cuddle the baby. "Have you never held a baby before?"

"I've held babies. I just don't like babies."

"I see."

"Look, why don't you," she began, starting to lift Robert and move him onto Kurt's lap.

"No, no, I think you should hold him. As punishment for not immediately liking my child."

Santana glared.

Blaine smiled happily, looking past Kurt at her. "It will do you good, Santana. Loosen you up a little."

"Brittany loosens me up just fine."

Blaine laughed outright. Kurt flushed and said quickly, "We do not talk about our sex lives in front of the baby. Nor do I ever need to hear about your late night escapades with your girlfriend."

"You're only jealous because your husband isn't a professional dancer. Very flexible."

Kurt, if possible, blushed further.

"Okay, Santana," Blaine shook his head, "Kurt and I have a perfectly healthy sex life. Let's drop it before you scar his brain, forcing him to think of you and Britt in compromising situations."

"Payback for the rainbow comment," she whispered to Kurt, who just sputtered.

Mercedes eventually settled on a song by a new R&B artist, Tina and Brittany having fun with their impromptu backup singing and dancing.

Quinn and Richard went all lovey-dovey and sang I Don't Want to Miss a Thing. Or, well, Quinn sang, Richard more or less belted the words out of-key.

They continued on like this, until eventually Rachel was the only one not-singed out. Finn had been forced to manhandle her off the stage while Mike stashed the microphone and her iPod somewhere in the house.

The party broke off into smaller groups once the singing stopped. Brittany and Santana had been standing quietly together near the fire pit – Santana had been very nervous over just how fast Mike had got the flames going – until Brittany had scurried away. Now Santana stood, half-finished beer dangling from her fingers as she watched the flames dance.

"Hey, lesbro," Puck said, coming to stand next to her and bumping her shoulder.

"Hey, cocktail waitress."

"Low blow."

"Dude, you were totally asking for it. And I am not your 'lesbro.'"

Puck gave her a sceptic look, "You are a lesbian. You are like one of the dudes, my bro. That makes you my lesbro. You've always been my lesbro."


Puck bent to pick up one of the pieces of wood at his feet. As he stood he tossed it into the fire pit, watching as the red-orange flames engulfed it with a few loud crackles. He looked around for a moment and then asked, "Where's your other half?"

Santana smiled, "I think she went inside. Tina was rounding up the kiddies and mentioned a movie. I think she's trying to get them all to fall asleep inside instead of on the grass out here. Jamie was looking a little droopy. And trust Brittany to go where the Disney movies are."

Puck seemed not to hear her. "So, which half is she?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer he continued, "I bet she's the bad half. That angel-girl act? Totally a cover up for her being a freak in the sheets, isn't it?"

Santana rolled her eyes but answered, "She's the right half."

"Man, that was a total cheesy line, Lopez."

She had meant that Brittany was the right side of their pair. When they were growing up and walked with linked pinkies, Brittany was always on her right. Brittany was right handed and Santana was left, so they would always link their free hands together. It had started when they were little but it was a habit that had not been broken with age.

But whatever. Let Puckerman think she was a sap.

"You done with that?" he asked, nodding towards the beer still dangling from her fingertips. She raised an eyebrow but offered him the bottle. "Cool," he replied before tossing it into the fire pit. There was a small explosion a few seconds later.

"Puck, what the hell?" she yelled, shielding her eyes from the momentarily brighter flames.

"What? I thought it was funny."

"Moron, alcohol and fire don't mix."

"No, you're the moron. Alcohol and fire totally mix."

"If you need to be a pyro, go find some fireworks or something. Don't just toss random amounts of alcohol into the fire and hope the explosion isn't big enough to roast you alive."

Puck's face lit up and he took off, heading towards Mike and Finn to ask if they could go and find some fireworks. Santana shook her head. That boy was never going to grow up and stop causing trouble. As long as he didn't roast the damn place though, she was good. It was always fun watching Puck make a fool of himself in public.

She wandered over to talk with Mercedes and Quinn for a while, Mercedes was sharing the horror story of the last time she'd visited Lima. It involved waking up in the middle of the night to find the fire department rescuing their neighbour's dog from a tree. How exactly the dog had gotten up there Mercedes couldn't say. But that was just the beginning of all the terrible things that had happened while she was last in town.

Eventually Santana began to miss Brittany's company. She glanced around the yard a few times but couldn't spot the blonde. Realizing she must not have left after going inside with Tina, Santana excused herself from the conversation and made her way towards the house.

Santana opened the back door and stepped into the bungalow. A glance to her left told her Brittany wasn't in the kitchen. She moved to the right, leaning in the doorway and looking into the dining room and adjoining living room. No Brittany.

Turning back into the kitchen Santana walked through it and into the hallway. She assumed the blonde wasn't in Mike and Tina's bedroom, but she checked the bathroom across the hall. Still no luck.

"Come on, B," she murmured, "Where are you?"

Reaching the door to the basement Santana tried her luck. From the bottom of the stairs she could hear a movie playing. Quietly she walked down the carpeted stairs. Reaching the bottom the basement opened into a rec room, complete with children's toys mixed in with McKinley High football trophies won by the new Coach Chang. There was also a hallway to her left at the base of the stairs, which she assumed housed Lilly and Logan's bedrooms.

The brunette could see Beauty and the Beast playing on the television. Jacob was sitting on the couch, watching as the villagers tried to break into the Beast's castle. He was so engrossed with the film he didn't even notice her presence.

Lilly was sitting on the floor in her pyjamas, parading a plastic pony over a seemingly Lego-made castle.

"Hey, Lil?" Santana asked quietly.

The little girl turned and smiled, her dark hair swishing with the sudden movement. "Hi," she chirped, "Want to play ponies?" She held up a second plastic horse.

"Maybe later. Have you seen Brittany?"

The girl nodded and pointed towards the hallway and then went back to having the first plastic horse trot on what looked to be the rampart wall of the Lego castle.

The sole door of the left of the small hallway held a bathroom; again, no Brittany. The first door on the right opened into a room painted light green. The bed was covered in a green and flower-print comforter and covered with no less than six different stuffed animals, including a penguin. A toy stroller stood at the foot of the bed, with a doll sitting inside. And on one wall were two shelves, both holding an assortment of rocks. Rocks painted bright colours with stuck on eyes and tissue-paper lips. This was what happened when your mother was a kindergarten teacher; lots of cool craft ideas.

Lilly's room.

No Brittany.

Santana was seriously hoping that she'd find the blonde in the other room at the end of the hallway. Her only other option would be to ask Tina if the woman had a wardrobe that actually led to Narnia stashed away somewhere; trust Brittany to find that.

She continued past Lilly's room and glanced into what she assumed would be Logan's room. She smiled when she caught a flash of blonde hair, but halted in the doorway at the scene she was met with.

Robert was sleeping soundly in the crib on one side of the room. The children's sized bed indicated that Logan had outgrown the crib, but either Mike and Tina had yet to get rid of it and the change table, or they weren't done expanding their family yet.

The low sitting bed on the other side of the room was covered in race car bed sheets and had a safety railing attached to the side not snug against the wall. Jamie was lying next to the railing and holding the pink cat from earlier close to her little frame. Her big brown eyes blinked sleepily and her hair was no longer in pigtails but in messy waves around her face. She also, despite being three, had a soother in her mouth.

Logan was sitting up on the other side of the bed, pyjamas adorned with Winnie the Pooh in various positions of trying to snag honey from a honey pot. "Please?" He whispered to Brittany, who sat at the foot of the bed, her back to Santana.

The dancer placed the book in her arms – Green Eggs and Ham – down on the bedspread. "You want me to read it again? My sweet little Asian baby, I already read it twice."

"Not sleepy yet," Jamie spoke softly around the soother.

"Mommy sings when I'm not sleepy," Logan insisted.

Santana leaned against the door frame soundlessly, watching the interaction. She watched as Brittany sat perfectly still, her back stiffening for a moment. Then she sighed contentedly and her shoulders dropped, "Okay," she said, holding her arms out.

Logan kicked the blankets off and crawled over to Brittany, wrapping his arms around her neck and his legs around her middle as she stood up. "Yay! Songs!" he cheered.

"Shhh," Brittany admonished. "I promise to sing, but you have to stay quiet, honey. Robert is sleeping. We can't wake him up. And you have to promise to go to bed when I'm done."


Stepping towards the head of the bed, Brittany reached an arm out over the safety rail to brush a lock of hair from Jamie's face. "You agree too?"

The little girl nodded, already half way to dreamland. Santana smiled knowingly, at this rate, Jamie would be dead to the world before Brittany finished her song, and probably wouldn't even wake when Kurt and Blaine transferred her from Logan's bed to the car for their drive to the Hudmel residence for the rest of their stay in Lima.

Santana and Brittany were staying with Brittany's parents for the weekend visit to Lima. Visiting Santana's family too, but they were staying at the Pierce's house. Santana's mother was okay with them as a couple, but still not perfectly comfortable with the two long-time girlfriends sharing a bed under her roof.

But really, it wasn't like Brittany and Santana hadn't already broken in the bed in Santana's childhood room when they were teenagers.

"What are you gonna sing?" the little boy in her girlfriend's arms asked.

The blonde's head dipped down as she looked at him. "What would you like me to sing, my little musketeer?"

"A lullaby," he yawned.

Jamie nodded her head in agreement.

Brittany stood next to the bed, back still to Santana. She shifted the boy in her arms so he was resting against her hip with his head snuggled into her neck. Santana could see his dark hair resting against Brittany's shoulder.

"I don't know if I know any lullabies," Brittany said softly, almost regretfully.

The boy pleaded, "Please?"

The blonde shifted from one foot to another restlessly. Santana knew if she could see her face, Brittany would be biting her lip as she thought. "Okay," she said eventually, "I think I have one."

Jamie pulled the soother from her mouth. When she spoke, her voice was laced with a struggle to fight off sleep. "Will it have giraffes? When Daddy sings to me, he likes to sing about giraffes. It makes Papa laugh." She placed the soother back in her mouth and snuggled deeper into the bed.

Though Santana couldn't see Brittany's face, she knew the blonde was smiling, "Sure baby, we can pretend it's about giraffes."

The brunette watched as Brittany's right foot began to tap, finding the gentle beat of whatever song she'd chosen. Whenever Brittany sang, she danced. It was part of her makeup. And Santana loved her for it.

Brittany began humming softly to herself and shifting slowly from one foot to another. One arm was holding the child close to her, the other from what Santana could see, was drawing circles on his back as she began softly.

Baby mine, don't you cry
Baby mine, dry your eyes

Her voice was soft and shaky at first, trying to find her place with the melody playing inside her head.

Rest your head close to my heart
Never to part
Baby of mine

Santana recognize the song, but couldn't place where she'd heard it. It was familiar, but she was too busy watching the beautiful sight in front of her to try to remember where she'd heard the melody.

Little one when you play
Don't you mind what they say
Let those eyes sparkle and shine
Never a tear
Baby of mine

Her hips moved in a slow arc, shifting her weight back and forth while she held Logan close to her chest. She bent down and kissed the crown of his head as she began the next verse.

If they knew sweet little you
They'd end up loving you too
All those same people who scold you
What they'd give just for the right to hold you

Santana was mystified. She loved Brittany. She'd loved her from the moment they'd become friends, when Santana had defended a tearful Brittany and punched a green crayon snatching Noah Puckerman when they were four.

But she'd never seen the blonde like this before, so open and caring and stunningly beautiful. She was hardly dancing at all, and her voice was soft and gentle, unlike her shower-singing sessions. But in that moment Santana was sure she'd never loved the dancer more.

From your head down to your toes
You're not much, goodness knows

One of her hands drifted down again, clasping Jamie's small hand. The little girl was trying to stay awake to hear the whole song, but it was a losing battle. Brittany pulled her hand away and shifted Logan closer, continuing with the soothing lyrics.

But you're so precious to me
Sweet as can be
Baby of mine

Santana was unsure why her chest was squeezing so painfully. She felt moisture prick at her eyes. The brunette blinked hard, pushing the tears back. She was overcome with emotion she couldn't explain. Brittany. She was beautiful and happy and Santana had never seen anything like the display she was witness to right now.

All of those people who scold you
What they'd give just for the right to hold you

The dancer within her eventually got the better of Brittany. She began slowly waltzing with the small boy she was carrying, letting her voice carry louder as she became more confident in her actions.

From your head down to your toes
You're not much, goodness knows

Brittany continued waltzing and suddenly she was facing Santana. Her eyes widened a moment when she noticed Santana had been watching, but a shy smile crept onto her face and her eyes twinkled as she finished the song, never looking away from the brunette.

But you're so precious to me
Sweet as can be
Baby of mine
Baby of mine

Brittany stilled as her lullaby ended, a serene expression on her face. Santana held her breath.

After a beat of simply watching each other, Brittany slowly turned away, moving towards the bed. She knelt down at the foot and tenderly laid Logan back down next to a soundly sleeping Jamie. The little boy burrowed into the blanket and yawned. He then blew a kiss at the dancer, "Night Auntie Brit-ey."

At this Brittany seemed to falter.

Santana stepped into the room, stopping next to the frozen blonde. She laid a reassuring hand on Brittany's shoulder. "Good night Logan," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Another yawn. "Night Auntie Sana."

"Night," Brittany whispered.

The Latina squeezed Brittany's shoulder, encouraging her to stand. Still looking a little dazed, Brittany stood up and began to follow the Latina from the room. "Wait, hang on," she whispered. Turning back, she fiddled with the baby monitor on the small table next to the bed, pressing buttons and turning dials at random until a little red light came on.

She turned to look at Santana, who stood by the door. With a shy smile, Brittany latched her pinkie to the other woman's and they left the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Santana then took the blonde's hand in her own and silently led her down the hallway. They passed Jacob and Lilly, who were now both intently watching Toy Story; neither looked up as the pair passed and ascended the stairs.

Without turning to look back at her, Santana led Brittany to the front of the house. Opening the front door, she tugged her outside onto the porch and then quickly spun around, wrapping her arms around Brittany's middle.

Arms came up automatically to hold her close, "You okay?"

"I love you," she muttered into Brittany's collarbone, peppering the exposed skin with light kisses.

Santana didn't need to look up to know Brittany was smiling. "I love you too?"

"You're beautiful," Santana continued.

"So are you," the dancer replied, clearly a little confused with the Latina's behaviour.

When she didn't offer any more Brittany pulled back slightly, head tipped down to look at the shorter brunette. "Hey," she asked, a hand lifting to skim under Santana's chin. "What's wrong?"

"I don't… that, in there," she nodded back at the house. "You just…"

Brittany blinked, waiting patiently for Santana to sort out her thoughts.

"You looked so… like you fit. With them. It… it scared me."

Eyes narrowed cautiously, "It scared you?"

"I don't know why, it just… you looked so content, like you belonged. You were so wonderful with them. I've never seen you look more beautiful."

Brittany shrugged, "I was just singing."

"I know," Santana wiped at her eyes, brushing away the moisture still threatening to fall. "I don't… I don't know why it made me so emotional." She sighed, "I just love you." It was the best reason she could give.

"Sap," Brittany giggled. She turned them so they were both leaning against the railing, shoulders touching.

A thought brushed past Santana's consciousness and she grabbed at it, wanting a distraction. "That was from Dumbo, wasn't it?" The recognition of the song was suddenly obvious; it was from that silly Disney movie about an elephant with big ears. The mother sang it to him at one point in the movie.

"Yeah," was all Brittany offered.

By way of explanation, Santana continued, "You hate that movie."

Brittany bumped her shoulder against Santana's playfully and nodded, "It's so sad. When they lock Jumbo up and take Dumbo away… it makes me sad." As an afterthought she added, "And the pink elephants scare me." She turned, leaning one hip against the porch rail to look at the brunette, "But it was the only lullaby I could think of." She gave a lopsided grin.

"You knew all the words."

"San, it's me. I know all the words. To every Disney song," she laughed and rolled her eyes, "Don't you remember in high school, me and Blaine…?"

Santana mimicked the eye-rolling, "Oh God. You two used to have like, heated debates over every damn Disney movie you could think of. And the singing, so much singing."

"Admit it," Brittany giggled, slapping playfully at Santana's shoulder, "You and Kurt loved it. Don't you remember, that double date we did one time? When Blaine and I serenaded you two with A Whole New World from Aladdin at the bowling alley? We had a whole routine and everything."

Santana blushed at the memory, "I'd rather not. You two got us kicked out."

Brittany smiled mischievously, "Mmm hmm, and then we ditched Kurt and Blaine and made out in the back of your car for like an hour. And other things."

And other things. That was like their catchphrase as teenagers.

Before she had time to protest, Santana found herself being swept into a waltz, Brittany's arms set securely around her as she led the brunette in a slow, easy dance around the porch.

"Britt, what are you doing?"

"Well, it isn't mine and Blaine's original choreography, but it works." She began singing, "I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid."

"Please stop."

"Tell me, princess," she continued, dropping the Latina into a dip before continuing to lead her around the small space, "Now when did you last let your heart decide?"

"B, I get it. You can stop now."

"I can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder."

Santana struggled against the blonde's grip, trying to stop the unnecessary dancing, but Brittany held fast.

"Over, sideways and under, on a magic carpet ride."

"Brittany please-"

The taller woman sang over her, "A whole new world!"

"B, Mike and Tina's neighbours are going to see us."

"So? A new fantastic point of view. Sing with me and I'll stop." She continued to box-step them around the small porch.

"Darling, I love you, but no."

"No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming. You sing and dance all the time at home, San."

"At home, meaning in the privacy of our apartment. Not in public, where the neighbours will think someone is being attacked on the Chang's front porch."

"A whole new world, a dazzling place I never knew. I don't hear singing." She stopped suddenly, an expectant look on her face.

"B," Santana whined.

Brittany lifted her eyebrows, waiting.

With an exasperated huff, Santana continued the lyric, "But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear, that now I'm in a whole new world with you."

The blonde beamed and nodded happily, twirling Santana as they finished the verse together, "Now I'm in a whole new world with you."

"There, see, was that so bad?"

"Yes," Santana replied solemnly.

The blonde stuck out her tongue in response.


"You love me. You love that I know all the words."

Holding back her laughter, Santana tried to bring them back to the serious conversation they'd been having before being distracted by her girlfriend's bizarre singing and dancing antics. "I just can't believe you remember all the words to a song in a movie you don't even like." She sighed, "How many times have you seen Dumbo, like, three?"

"Five." The blonde said this like she knew exactly how many times she'd seen every Disney movie during her lifetime. "The first time was with Tina after a dance class when we were seven. We both cried and her mom had to take us out for ice cream to make us feel better."

"You are adorable."

Brittany leaned over and kissed Santana's nose, "I love you too."

Not one to miss an opportunity, Santana captured Brittany's lips with her own. One hand gripped her around the waist and the other tangled itself in blonde hair, drawing Brittany ever closer. The blonde's teeth grazed along Santana's lip and the brunette sighed blissfully. "You were so great with them," she whispered, breaking the kiss and simply holding Brittany in a tight hug.

"Mmmm?" Brittany said into her hair.

"Logan and Jamie. You were perfect."

She felt Brittany shrug. "I like kids."

Santana made a strangled sound. It was like the wires, tangled before, were suddenly connected in the right way and the circuit was complete. Her brain made the connection with a sudden burst, adrenalin rushing through her body as the thought revealed itself and unfolded inside her mind. She stiffened in Brittany's arms, heart racing within her ribcage.

The dancer pulled back slightly, glancing down at her. "What's up with you? You aren't all here. You haven't been since we stepped outside."

Santana didn't answer, couldn't answer. She was too busy standing dumbly as her mind went wild, thoughts tumbling through her stunted brain one after the other before she could stop them.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Santana asked, dropping clumsily into a kitchen chair.

Brittany stood by their apartment window, looking down at something on the ground three stories below.

"Mrs. Mathews," she answered without turning, "From next door. She's out walking her baby."

"Like, on a leash?" Santana asked, reaching out to grab Brittany's forgotten mug of coffee.

Brittany turned, an unimpressed look on her face, "I said walking her baby, not her dog." She shook her head in silent laughter. "In a stroller."

"Ah," was all Santana said.

Brittany moved to lean against the kitchen table next to her girlfriend, her knees brushing against Santana's thighs. "Why are you like that?"

Santana sipped the coffee, "Like what?"

"That was mine by the way," she nodded to the coffee, "And I mean, you get so… closed. Whenever kids are around."

Santana shrugged. She didn't like kids, so what?

"I mean, I'm not saying you have to go and like, skip through the nursery at the hospital and sing Old MacDonald to the newly born little babies. But you always close up and get dismissive when you see someone happy with their children."

"I don't do well with kids, B. You remember me with your sister?"

Brittany waved the argument away, "She didn't like you because you ignored her and refused to play Barbies with her every time she asked. If you had tried, she would have liked you. She likes you well enough now."

"Yeah, now," Santana said, placing the mug down on the table, "Now that she's in high school. I just don't get along with kids."

The blond bumped her leg against Santana's, "I think you'd be great with kids if you stopped acting like you don't like them."

"I don't like them," the brunette stressed.

Brittany scoffed.

"B, I'm sorry. I just don't like kids. I never have. I've never had that desire to peek over the crib when my aunt had a new baby. I never wanted to babysit for the neighbours. And I never fantasised what it would be like to have my own kids."

"I think you'd make a great mom," Brittany said timidly.

Santana's head flew up and she gaped for a moment, unsure exactly how to respond to this. Eventually she settled with, "Britt… no."

"I didn't," she looked at Santana, confused. "What?"

"Brittany, I know you love kids. You adore kids. But… I can't. I can't be a mom. I can't have a family with you. Not like that."

Biting down on her lip, Brittany said slowly, "I'm not, I'm not asking you to."

Santana stood, pushing her body between the blonde's legs and taking her hands. "Not right now you aren't. I get it. But… but sometime you will. One day you will wake up and you'll want to ask me to have a family with you. But I can't, B."

"San," Brittany tried.

"I'm not you, babe. I don't have that confidence you do, not with children. I… I don't want to be my mother. I don't want to put a child through what she put me through." She kept her eyes focused on blue ones, begging Brittany to understand, to not make her elaborate further.

Santana's family was one of the reasons she'd moved so far from Lima. They were her parents, so she loved them, but that was as far as it went. Growing up, she'd spent more time at the Pierces' house than her own. Her father was hardly around, lavishing his daughter with material gifts instead of physical affection. Her mother was cold and unforgiving, pointing out every one of her daughter's flaws and being less than understanding once she'd truly understood her daughter's relationship with her best friend.

"You aren't your mother," Brittany offered.

"I can't, B. I'm not the lovey-dovey kind like you are. I don't get along with kids. Please, don't push me on this. I can't. I can't have a child with you. Not now, not later."

Brittany pursed her lips, sighed, and a small smile of understanding eventually appeared on her face. "I love you," she said, pulling the brunette close.

"I love you too," she answered hesitantly, hoping Brittany wouldn't push this.

"I think…" she paused, sorting out her words, "I really do think you'd make a great mom." Santana opened her mouth to protest so Brittany quickly laid a finger against her lips. "You say you don't get along with kids. But I think it's like, a rule that you get along with your own. It's just natural. You love them and care for them. But I get it." She looked like she was trying to hold back how upsetting this conversation was for her. "I get why you don't want to do this. But just promise me; promise me that you won't close this door completely. Just… just in case you ever change your mind. Please? Don't hold yourself back from this because you're afraid. Let me know if you ever want to."

Not wanting to make the dancer more upset Santana nodded mutely, knowing deep down her answer would never change.

"…San, earth to Santana." Brittany was saying, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Brittany," she said breathily.

The blonde's eyes widened when she realized she finally had Santana's attention. "Where did you go? You left me for a minute. What's going on?"

"Brittany," she repeated, her voice nervous.

"You didn't like, forget to turn the stove off or something like that, did you? Because, I mean, that causes fires and I'd rather like to go home to an intact apartment."


The blonde quieted, blue eyes blinking carefully as she studied the shorter woman. Her gaze swept up and down, fully taking Santana in, trying to understand the sudden shift in emotion. "What's wrong? What's going on?" she asked quietly.

"I want to."

"… want to what?"

"What you asked me. I want to."

"I'm missing something."

"I want-" her voice cracked. "Britt, I…" She didn't even understand the desire. It was just a sudden flame deep inside that she couldn't put out. Every moment she thought about it, the need grew stronger. She swallowed, "Four years ago… you asked me something. I wasn't… I didn't… I'm ready now. I want to."

Brittany was the most perceptive person Santana knew when it came to matters of the heart, so it was no surprise that it only took a few seconds before a look of understanding donned her face.

Then a look of disbelief.

Then a look of utter adoration.

"You mean…?"

Her voice was strong when she spoke, "I want a baby. With you."

"A baby," Brittany mouthed, still in shock. Her eyes shone brighter than Santana had ever seen, "You… and me. And a baby."


Brittany bit down on her lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to overtake her face. "You… you aren't teasing me? Please, please say you aren't teasing me."

"No. I want this."

"What," the blonde shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, "What brought this on? I thought… I thought you didn't-"

Santana kissed her, stopping the thought. When she pulled back she answered, "You. Seeing you, in there, with Jamie and Logan. I just… I don't even understand. But you looked so at peace, so in your element when you were with them. You were prefect. Beautiful. I can't deny you that. I want to see you like that, so comfortable in your skin, so at ease and stunning, for the rest of my life. Now that I've seen it I don't ever want to take that away from you."

Brittany's fingers gently brushing against her cheek made her aware of the tears. She hadn't realized she was crying. "You're really serious about this."

Santana nodded in earnest. "I want this with you. I've never wanted something with you more than I want this. I love you."

"Wow," Brittany giggled. Her hand left Santana's cheek to cover her own mouth and part of her cheek, trying to hide her blush. Santana saw the woman's blue orbs were sparkling with unshed tears. "Wow. I love you. But wow. You… we get to have a baby."

"Yeah," Santana breathed. Her fingers reached out hesitantly to lay her hands flat against Brittany's stomach.

"Oh, hey, wait. I have to be the one to get pregnant?"

Santana arched an eyebrow.

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Okay, yeah. I'd be the one to get pregnant."

"I think you'd look hot with a baby-belly."

She laughed as Brittany furrowed her eyebrows, "Hot? Um, San, I'd be fat. And not like the I just gained weight kind of fat. It would like, only be on my stomach. It would look weird."

"It would look hot," the Latina reassured.

Brittan pouted, "My abs would go away."

"I'll buy you new ones."

"What? No, San, these," she said, taking Santana's hands and placing them just under her shirt, "you can't buy these." Santana immediately dragged her fingers up over the toned muscles, digging her nails in slightly and causing Brittany to hiss with pleasure. "You said that on purpose, didn't you? Just to touch my abs."

Santana hummed in agreement. "Mhmm, yes." She let her hands slide around to rest against the small of Brittany's back as she leaned in, pressing their bodies close together. "You're imagining yourself pregnant, aren't you?" She asked, her head tucked under Brittany's chin.

"I'm trying to see how it would work. Dancing would be a challenge."

"Babe, if anyone could master being pregnant and teaching little kids to dance at the same time, it would be you."

"That's true. This will change our lives, you realize. Like forever."

"In a good way. That's the point, isn't it? Procreation? I get to see you rock maternity clothes."

"I thought the point was passing on genes and survival and fitness or whatever, not being happy because you get to see your hot girlfriend pregnant."

"Don't ruin my moment."

Brittany scoffed, "Oh, sorry. Forgive me for stepping on your special 'my girlfriend's bloated stomach is a turn on' thing."



"I think our usual roles are reversed here."

"You make me emotional, it's your gift." She kissed Brittany again for good measure. "So what would our hypothetical child call us?"

Brittany giggled and nuzzled her nose against Santana's. "You mean like how Kurt and Blaine are Daddy and Papa?" she asked, squeezing the smaller woman closer to her.


The dancer answered easily, "Well, I'd be Mama."

Santana leaned back to look up, watching Brittany's blue eyes carefully. "You wouldn't want to be Mommy?"

Brittany blushed, "Well, yeah, but… Mommy sounds too close to Mami. Which would be you, right?"

"Oh," Santana realized. "True."

"So there. I'd be Mama and you'd be Mami."

This was not as simple as Brittany was making it out to be. "Okay, but," Santana began, fingers tickling the blonde's sides, "What about when this child gets older."

Brittany squirmed in her grasp but tried to stay focused, "What?"

"Mami means Mommy," the Latina explained. "When this child no longer wants to call me Mommy, what will it call me? You don't call your mom Mommy anymore just like I don't still call mine Mami."

Brittany frowned, "I call her Mom. And you call yours Mamá."

"Exactly. Mamá means Mom in Spanish."

The understanding of how complicated this was seemed to dawn on Brittany. "Oh. Mamá and Mama. I get it. That's bad." She pouted.

"See the dilemma?"

The blonde chewed her lip for a moment, thinking up a solution. Santana waited patiently, enjoying watching the emotions flick across the blonde's face as she tackled the naming problem. Eventually she smirked and said, "What if I'm Mommy and you're Mamá? We get rid of Mami altogether? Then I become Mom when they become a moody teenager, and you stay as Mamá? Does that work?"

"Huh. I could live with that." She kissed the blonde again, "You are so clever, babe."

"Well," Brittany began as Santana continued kissing her, moving down to suck at her pulse point. "We can't both… you are distracting me. We can't both be called the same thing. That would… suck."

Santana nipped harder, enjoying teasing the blonde. "Sucking is good sometimes."

Brittany groaned. One hand raised to cup Santana's cheek, pulling her face closer while the other wrapped protectively around her back. Sincerely she said, "I can't believe you really want this."

"I can't believe I didn't want this."

Mike's face suddenly appeared, his body leaning in the front doorway, "Hey, did either of you – oh." He took in how their bodies were intertwined. "Sorry. Are we having a moment?"

"Kinda," Brittany shrugged, Santana's body being forced to move along with her. Santana turned her head, resting one side against Brittany's shoulder so she could look Mike in the eyes. Not a mean get the hell out of here glare, simply a it would be nice if you made yourself scarce kind of look.

He smiled at her, "I'll just…" He motioned back inside and then disappeared from view.

"We get to have what they have," Brittany whispered.

Santana nodded, suddenly finding the idea of miniature Brittany's and Santana's running around her legs a little intimidating.

"So," Brittany began, shifting her body away slightly so she could look at the shorter woman, "When you get pregnant, Tina says you get cravings. Like, the food kind."

"Yes," Santana replied carefully.

"So… you'd be willing make me anything I asked you to?"

Brown eyes widened slightly, "What kind of strange cravings are we talking here, B?"

"I was watching a cooking show the other day," the dancer explained, "The guy made chocolate dipped asparagus. It looked really yummy."

"Oh, ew."

"You don't have to eat them if you think its gross sounding. But I want to try them."

Santana shook her head in amusement and squeezed Brittany's arms, "You are too adorable for your own good. And yes, I'll make you nasty chocolate covered vegetables should you ever ask."

"Well, I'm asking."

"You aren't pregnant yet."

"Oh. Right." From the look in her eyes, Santana could tell Brittany was once again envisioning herself as pregnant.

Santana found herself picturing it too, and the emotional tidal wave washed over her once more. The two of them. With a baby. A fire that had never before been ignited within her was suddenly burning as strong as a bonfire. She wanted this with Brittany. She wanted this with Brittany so bad it hurt.

And then she had a thought. A thought that made her shiver with excitement. As if Brittany and a baby weren't enough, this sudden and unexplained idea seemed to make the fire grow even stronger.

The brunette leaned forward, capturing Brittany in a heated kiss. The arousal flowed through her uncontrolled and she pressed her body tightly against the blonde's. Both arms wrapped firmly around the other woman's back, as if trying to bring her close enough to merge their bodies together.

One of Brittany's hands rested on her hip, fingers gently kneading the skin below Santana's jeans. Her other hand moved higher, getting itself tangled in Santana's dark mane. She pushed her lips more forcefully against Santana's, her tongue slipping between parted lips.

The shorter of the two moaned, her legs growing weak. They had done this dance many times before, but kissing Brittany never failed to make her head spin and leave her body feeling like jelly. Brittany held her up, biting Santana's lip softly as her fingers threaded through the belt loop of Santana's jeans.

She pulled away from Brittany's lips and kissed her way along pale skin, across the blonde's jaw bone and up to the temple, stopping to bite down on an ear lobe. Brittany hissed at the sensation.

Santana smirked, taking advantage of Brittany's distracted state to let the tips of her fingers slip under the material of Brittany's shirt. She kissed her way back to the blonde's lips as her fingers raked higher and higher against heated flesh.

"San," Brittany panted, "San, we need to stop."

Her fingers continued to trace patterns on Brittany's pale skin just below her bra. "Why?" Brittany looked stunning in the moonlight.

The dancer pulled away, looking down at Santana. She was smiling and her eyes were dark with desire, but she took Santana's wrists and pulled them out from under her shirt. "You were worried about the neighbours seeing us dancing out here? We go any further and they will be seeing a whole different kind of dancing."

"Don't care. I'd like to be kissing you again please."

The blonde pulled a bit farther away, putting space between their heated bodies as she looked quizzically at Santana. "What's up with you?" she questioned. "First you're talking about babies, and then suddenly you want to have sex on Mike and Tina's front porch?"

"B, you do know how babies are made, right?"

"S, you do know that between the two of us, we are missing some key baby-making parts. What's with the sexy?" As an afterthought the dancer added, "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"I just, I thought of something."

Amused, Brittany asked, "What's that?"

Santana bit down on her lip, a little unsure. She wanted a child with Brittany, but would this be too big a push? She'd already sprung the children idea on Brittany out of the blue. Dropping this… she didn't even know where this was coming from. She didn't know where any of this was coming from. She was on an emotional high; not sure how she got there or how to come down.

"San?" Brittany prompted, nudging her hips against Santana's.

Hesitatingly Santana offered, "I… I want you to carry my eggs."

Brittany took a full step backwards, eyes widening in surprise. Santana watched as the blonde blinked rapidly, seeming to become paler in the dim light. She opened her mouth, but only managed a shaky breath.

Santana felt the ground begin to crumble beneath her. Why had she said that? Why had she thought that but more importantly why had she said it out loud? Why hadn't she–

"Really?" Brittany said breathily.

Santana swallowed and nodded her head once.

Taking a deep breath, the taller woman made sure they're eyes were locked on each other before speaking. "You… you'd want me to… t-to do that? You, I-I mean…you'd trust me to, with your…?" Her face held disbelief.

Santana looked down at her feet, "You don't have to-"

Brittany immediately cut her off, "I want to."

Brown eyes lifted, searching blue ones for the truth in the statement. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, I… San, I… wow. Really? You… you'd trust me to do that? To carry, to carry your child?"

"Our child."

"But… yours. Me, carrying your eggs…" she shook her head, clearly still in disbelief. "Santana, I… I'm… honoured? Floored? Flattered? Possibly more in love?" She giggled adorably. "I… I really don't know what to think right now besides 'yes.'"


"Yes," the blonde stressed, taking Santana's hands in her own and grasping them tightly. "Of course. Of course I would do this. For you. For us. In a heartbeat."

Santana smiled timidly, still a little nervous about the prospect. "I don't know why, it just seems…"

"Right," the dancer finished for her. "It seems right. It would be ours, if we did it like that." Brittany tugged sharply on Santana's hands, jerking the smaller woman into her arms and wrapping her in a hug. She brought their lips together in a soft kiss. It was much gentler than the searing one only moments before, this time filled with love and adoration. It was a promise.

Brittany was the one to eventually pull away. She kept her body close, but tilted her head to one side, confusion evident on her face. "Wait… this was the sexy?"

Heat flushed Santana's cheeks and she looked sharply to one side, nodded embarrassingly. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Really? You… you find the idea sexy?"

Turning back she focused on Brittany's sparkling blues, watching them closely as she answered. "You, carrying my eggs, I find the idea very arousing. A part of me, knowing its growing inside you. Knowing you'd have a part of me with you. It just… it does something for me, I guess. I never really thought about it before."

Brittany's smile grew impossibly larger, "I'm glad you've thought about it now."

"Me too," Santana whispered, stepping forward to lean against the railing. Brittany moved to stand behind her, resting her forehead against Santana's shoulder and inhaling deeply. "I'm so in love with you," she murmured.

"You really want to do this?" Santana spoke after a while.

"Lean against Mike and Tina's front porch and ignore that Puck probably has smores going out there by now? That or firecrackers anyway."

"Start a family."

"Yes, I want to start a family with you. I love you. I want to show you how much I love you. And I want to show you how much you can love our children."

"Wait, children? As in plural."

"You only want one?"

"I… I never thought about it. Until about twenty minutes ago, I was pretty sure I didn't even want one. Why? You want more than one?"

Brittany just snuggled closer, "I already have you. Adding babies to the mix is just the cherry on top."

Santana laughed, "You are such a sap, you know that? You say all the right things."

"Mmmm," the dancer giggled, pressing a quick kiss to Santana's neck. "It's true though. We don't have to decide right this minute. We just, take it in stride."

"Did you," Santana paused, the words there but her nerves taking over. She swallowed and tried again, "Did you always know I'd come around?"

"I'd hoped you might. But I love you. And I understand you and why you never wanted kids. I get it, I do. But I still love you. I'm lucky I have you, I mean it. If I spent the rest of my life with you but with no mini me's running around, I'd be just as happy. I'd never want you to do something you weren't comfortable with."

Santana sighed heavily.

"Ohh, I don't like that sound."

"I… I feel guilty," the brunette explained quietly. "Like, what if I never said yes? I'd be holding you back. You say you'd be happy without, but I saw you in there. You love them. You love all kids. I'd be denying you something you deserve."

"San, you weren't ready. That's okay. I wasn't ready when we were nine and you tried to teach me to rollerblade. And you waited until I was. Simple as that."

"You are so wise."

"Like Yoda. Only taller," Brittany said seriously, fingers gently gripped Santana's hips.

"And not green."

"I could pull off green though. Totally."

"Of course, babe."

"Or blue. I could do blue, I think. Like a Smurf. Oh," she squealed right into Santana's ear, "San, we could have cute little Smurf babies!"

"I do not want Smurf babies. I do not want a short, blue-skinned child, Britt. No."

"It would be cute," Brittany sing-songed.

"It would be weird," Santana replied in the same tone. "I am willing to have a child with you, Britt. But I am not prepared to have to explain to people why my girlfriend gave birth to a blue-skinned child. Especially if said girlfriend was carrying my eggs. I mean, I'm assuming we'd use a donor, but no. We are not finding a blue-skinned donor and we are not having blue-skinned children. Or green. Or purple. Or whatever. I have standards. My girlfriend will not be giving birth to rainbow-coloured children."

"Wait, San," she said softly. The amusement in her voice from moments before gone, replaced with a serious tone. "If…"

Santana tried to suppress the squeezing of her heart, knowing that somehow she'd said something wrong. She'd said something about this baby idea that Brittany didn't like. This was the 'but,' wasn't it? The part where her happiness was dangled above her only to be snatched away. She was grateful Brittany was standing behind her, she wasn't sure she'd be able to hide the sadness in her eyes at hearing the blonde's words. It had taken only moments, but Santana had already grown attached to the idea of having a child with Brittany. She didn't want to think about Brittany saying 'no.' Not now.

Brittany continued, oblivious to Santana's fears, "If we do this, then we have to do it right. I want to do this right."

Santana's voice was small as she asked, "What does that mean?"

Brittany's hands on her hips pulled away and Santana missed them immediately, feeling the cool night air instead of the warmth from the blonde. Brittany was moving around behind her, she felt the blonde's hands brush against her hair as they moved them somewhere up near Brittany's face.


"Shhh, hang on." Whatever task Brittany had started, she seemed to have accomplished it. There was a tiny click and then a shy, happy giggle.

"Britt, what?-"

She was cut off by Brittany's hands reappearing around her middle. Santana looked down to see Brittany take the Latina's hands in her own, watching in awe as one of Brittany's gold hoop earrings was gracefully slid onto Santana's ring finger. It was a little loose fitting, but the sentiment shocked Santana into silence.

Brittany dropped her head, resting it against Santana's shoulder. "It means," she said quietly, squeezing both of Santana's hands in her own and kissing her temple, "I'll have your children, but only if you'll have me as your wife."


A/N: The lullaby Brittany sings is Baby Mine, from the Disney movie Dumbo. I envision her singing the Alison Krauss version.