"I assure you, Susan," Santana said into her phone as she passed through the double doors of her building. "It's not a 'Come as your Favorite Broadway Character' event. You should ignore anything you get from Rachel Berry."

"Hi there, San'ana." The leprechaun boy behind the desk smiled as she passed. "Nice day."

She could never remember his name. Brittany had told her a million times, but she just referred to him as Irish Jig most of the time. It started with a..., "Rrrr-ight." Yeah, she had no idea.

She hit the button for elevator and waited. "She thinks she's in charge because it's in New York."

When the car opened up, she walked inside and hit the lit up 6. "We've all gotten past that, Susan. It was a long time ago. And she's apologized to Brittany numerous times. Sure, it's in the form of autographed head shots, but Britt sells them on eBay and makes a some serious money."

She acknowledged the older couple riding with her that probably still only knew her as 'that dear, sweet Brittany's girlfriend from the East' with a small wave.

"Mami can't wait to see you again, either," she said to Susan.

As soon as the elevator door opened onto the sixth floor, she was greeted by the stink eye from 9 year old Wes Brody. She gave it right back. That kid hadn't liked her since Brittany introduced Santana as her girlfriend.

"We're flying out at 10 in the morning. I'll have Brittany call you with all the specifics, okay?"

"Santana Banana," April Rhodes yelled down the corridor as soon as she was spotted.

"Hello, April," the brunette reciprocated. "Who let you out?"

"I just came out here to tell you I'm drinking Sangria in honor of you and Brittany," April slurred.

"In that case, drink up," Santana told her as she slid past. "But don't pull the fire alarm again. I was in the shower the last time."

Santana smiled at what Susan had said on the line, "I can't wait to legally be a part of the Pierce family either, Susan. Believe me, no one is more excited than me. We'll see you in a few days."

She placed her phone in her pocket when she reached the apartment door. She pressed into it while she put the key in the lock. It was tricky, most of the time she had to give a good hard ass bump.

As she turned to do just that, she saw Mike and Tina exiting their apartment with their brand new adopted addition. "Hi Changs."

Tina waved little Alejandro's hand in her direction. He said something that was probably brilliant in baby speak.

"Hi, Alex," she waved back. Santana couldn't deal with how cute that kid was. Her and Brittany had just started broaching the subject, but first they wanted to get married and buy a house. It was all part of Santana and Brittany's Flawless Plan. That was a real thing, it was laminated and hanging on their fridge.

"You guys ready?" Mike asked in regards to the wedding.

"I'm ready, Britt has been ready, she's practically bouncing off the walls," Santana answered. "You guys are coming right?"

"Of course," Tina said. "We're flying in next Friday."

"Good, Brittany really wanted to make sure you were there," Santana said. "We're both grateful you're making the trip."

"We couldn't miss our favorite neighbors getting married," Mike winked.

"We are pretty special," Santana agreed.

When she got into the apartment, she threw her keys on the table next to a picture of her and Brittany taking a nap that Sam had snapped a year or so ago. It was Santana's favorite so far. Brittany's long limbs were curled all around her like a cocoon. They looked blissful, even while they slept. They probably looked it because they were.

Lord Tubbington met her shortly after. She gave him his usual ear rub and went to the cabinet to get his portion controlled dinner. She prided herself on his three pound weight loss. He meowed gratefully when she poured his food in the bowl. The two of them had grown to love each other despite some early trouble. There was a tiny disagreement about who got to sleep next to Brittany. Santana won. Tubbs declared war. Santana encouraged Brittany to buy him more clothes. He stood down. Santana donated his cat apparel to needy, homeless kitties. Now, they lived in relative peace and harmony.

She continued into their bedroom where she wanted to get all the packing finished before Brittany decided to "help." That drove her insane. She loved the woman, but if Brittany rolled one more dry clean only garment into a ball and stuffed it in a front zipper compartment, she was going to go ape shit.

She had gotten through about half of it when she heard Brittany's keys jangling.

"San?" Brittany called as soon as she was through the door. "Why do I have four texts from my Uncle Bobby asking if Victor/Victoria is on Rachel Berry's list of approved musicals?"

"In here," Santana yelled from the bedroom. "I'm going to warn you, I'm packing."

"Ew," Brittany voiced her displeasure at the idea. She walked into their bedroom and hugged the brunette from behind. She placed a kiss on her ear before asking, "You want help?"

"Absolutely not," Santana shook her head. "I'll do it. Stay away from my stacks."

"You're weird," the blonde said.

"And you're marrying me," Santana folded a shirt into a perfect square and set it on the bed. "What does that say about you?"

"That I'm marrying a weirdo," Brittany moved the perfectly folded shirt just a smidge.

Santana's eyes cut up to the blonde. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said innocently. "Do you know anything about Rachel and Uncle Bobby?"

"Oh yeah," Santana moved the shirt back and walked out of the room. "Rachel is trying to make our wedding a costume themed affair. That's the deal with Uncle Bobby. Text him back and tell him he can wear a dress if he wants, but don't bring the damn goat. That fucker ate fifty bucks right out of my pocket the last time we went to the farm."

"San...you know Billy should only get one dollar bills. Fifties make him sick."

"It made me sick, too, babe."

"You know what else makes you sick? RSVPs," Brittany said as she followed Santana to the kitchen. "We have to finish tallying the guests."

"Is it bad that I don't even care anymore?" Santana asked. "Just as long as you and me and a officiant of the great state of New York are present, I'm going to call it a success."

"Has to be done, San."

"Fine, okay," Santana sighed dramatically.

Brittany laughed. "God, you're cute when you're annoyed."

"Shut up."

"You are."


Brittany pulled her at her shirt, "I love you."

"Yeah, well, I kinda like you."

"Kinda like?" Brittany let her hands fall to Santana's hips. "What will make you like me more?"

"I don't know."

Brittany lifted her up and sat her on the counter, "You have no idea?"

"You'll have to try different stuff, I guess," Santana said as she wrapped her legs around the blonde and forced her closer.

"So many options." Brittany ducked her head to kiss just under Santana's jawline.

"That's a good starting place."

The blonde kissed down her jaw until she made a quick move for Santana's lips. She sucked the bottom one in while her hands slowly slid up the back of Santana's shirt.

Santana had grabbed Brittany's belt loops and was trying her damndest to pull her on top of her when they heard a knock at the door.

"Fuck," Santana complained. "Who is that?"

"Don't know," Brittany huffed, trying to catch her breath. "I'll see."

Brittany made a move, but Santana squeezed her tighter. "One more."

"One more is never enough for you," Brittany told her.

"Please," Santana did the sad face. The sad face always worked. Brittany couldn't fight the sad face.

"You cheat," Brittany said as she leaned into another kiss.

"Guys!" they heard from the door. "I can hear you. It's like lip smacking central in there."

"Dammit Sam!" Santana screamed. "I tryna getz my mack on."

"You're always trying to get your mack on," he shouted through the door.

"Come in," Brittany yelled.

Sam entered slowly. He had enough experience with them to know surprise visits often made more surprised visitors. "Are you decent?"

"San's boobs are out."

"No, they're not, Sammy," Santana said as she lightly slapped Brittany's thigh. "You can come in."

"I came to ask what you two think of my fancy tux," Sam told them as he showed off his tuxedo for their wedding.

"Oh, wow," Santana approved. "You're going to make the handsomest Man of Honor ever."

"So you guys decided I'm the Man of Honor, huh?"

"Yep," Santana said as she slipped off the counter.

Brittany had already reached him and starting pulling at his sleeves and dusting off his shoulders. "I agree, you look fabulous."

"You think he'll like it?" Sam asked as he twirled a bit.

"I think Kurt will love it," Santana told him. "How's that going by the way?"

"Good," Sam said with a shy smile. "I mean, it sucks. But, it's also great."

"I know exactly what you mean," Brittany said. Her pinky blindly reached for Santana's, which was already poised for linking. "How cool is it that your Best Maid and my Man of Honor have made another long distance connection?"

"It's great," the brunette said. "But I don't envy the Seattle to New York romance."

"Yeah, Britt," Sam addressed her. "I'm sorry for ever giving you any shit about waiting by the phone."

"What goes around comes around, Samuel."

"Don't I know it?" Sam unconsciously looked around for a clock. "Okay, well, I just wanted to make sure I was presentable for your big day."

"Looking good," Brittany assured him.

"I guess I'll see you two in New York next weekend, then."

"You will," Santana said.

"Group hug," Sam announced as he held out both arms.

"Oh," Brittany giggled. "We haven't done this since the month we all lived together."

"Don't remind me," Santana said with disgust even though she participated.

"Call me when you arrive," Sam told them, always being the big brother type.

"Sure," Brittany watched him leave before turning back to her fiancee. "RSVPs."

"No!" Santana complained. "Damn Sam and his tux. I nearly had you distracted with sex."

"Unless you want to armpit me, then we're doing them."

"Fine, RSVPs."

Brittany put a big, silly smile on her face before grabbing the last of the envelopes and settling on the couch. "Come here, honey," she called sweetly and patted the space in front of her.

Santana settled into her usual spot, leaning up against Brittany. She still marveled at how well they fit. "Let's get it over with."

Brittany gave her a quick kiss, "I can't wait to marry you."

"How do you follow up me being bitchy with 'I can't wait to marry you.'"

"I've been doing it since the first time you were bitchy. I just wasn't so vocal about it back then."

"Are you serious?" Santana asked curiously. "You thought you wanted to marry me then?"

"Okay, maybe not that exact moment."


"Uh...your moment. Which was my moment. I've had several Santana moments since then, though. My favorite was when you finally said yes after staring at the ring for 10 minutes."

"I did not make you wait 10 minutes." Santana automatically lifted her hand to admire her engagement ring.

"You did."

"Did not," Santana denied. "And I was shocked. I wasn't expecting it then."


"We were in a grocery store, Brittany."

"Again. Exactly."

"In the frozen food aisle."

"Element of surprise."

"In front of frozen pancakes."

"It was perfect," Brittany said, mentally patting herself on the back.

"It was pretty perfect," Santana smiled.

"RSVPs," Brittany started, having successfully turned Santana's frown upside down. She pulled out the card. "Blaine sends his regrets from Guadalajara. Oh, look, he sent a picture of his Chia pet."

"Babe," Santana leaned in to inspect it. "That's him."

"Damn," Brittany grimaced. "I always made fun of his hair gel, but now I understand his dependence on it."

"Unfortunate," Santana said. "Next."

"Holly...won't be coming."

"Is she still missing?" Santana asked as she took the envelope from Brittany and looked for a return address. "I mean, didn't we have to get this to her by top secret courier or something?"

"Missing? Not quite," Brittany said. "She wrote us a note. 'Hey Bitches, Getting married? That sucks for you. Good luck anyway. Signed S Dub 7.'"

"S Dub 7?"

"It's a whole kinky roleplay thing. You don't want to know, I wish I didn't."

Santana found when Brittany said that, she meant it. "Next."

"Will," Brittany made a drumroll sound, "is coming with a plus one."

"Oh, that Starbucks chick? Terri?"

"Yeah, they really hit it off."

"They seem like a good pair," Santana agreed. "Hope that works out for him."

"I really think it will," Brittany said optimistically. "Next is...Quinn."

"She wouldn't miss it," Santana said as she looked at the card. "I hope she got Rachel's message about the costumes."


"What? It'll be hilarious."

"Yeah, it will," Brittany agreed. "Okay...Rachel?"

"Does she have a plus one?"


"I figured."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "KStew. They're still celebridating."

"That's been going on a while now."

"Well, it's good for both of their careers at this point. The lesbians are really attached to them."

"Plus, Rachel can wear all her stuff and claim they're just girlfriends sharing clothes."

"That's pretty much the reason why Rachel is celebridating her in the first place."

Brittany placed the card in the 'Yes' stack on Santana's right thigh. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what? Rachel?"

"Rachel. Your job. New York."

"Rachel, no. I still talk to her too much. I watched her and Kurt do a reenactment of And I'm Telling You from Dreamgirls yesterday on her private streaming YouTube channel. And my job was awesome for a while, but we wouldn't have gotten to spend time together like we do now. I'm much happier with what we have than what I did have, okay?"

Brittany nodded.

"Plus, I'm much better at giving orders rather than taking them."

"Unless it's me," Brittany said with a sly grin.

"Unless it's you."

"What about New York?"

"I miss it," Santana shrugged. "But if it's between you and New York, there's no contest."

"We could still go, San. We can move, all you have to do is say the word."

Santana leaned up and turned so she could see Brittany's face. "Are you kidding me? You can't leave. You've made New Directions legendary."

"Nuh uh."

"The mastermind behind Whoopsies: Dress up your Mess Up and Fondue For Two."

"It's not legendary," Brittany brushed off the compliment.

"I dare you to find one person in this country who doesn't follow up Fondue For Two with 'that's some hot dish.'"

Brittany blushed. "Maybe a tiny bit legendary."

"We're not leaving. You love it here. I love it here. I want to raise our kids here."



"RSVPs," Brittany held up the remaining two cards. "Artie."


"He's going."

"Of course, he is," Santana said with pfft. "He's already there and on Rachel's payroll. She'll probably require a company wide mandated attendance."

"Okay!" When Brittany got to the last card, she danced it across Santana's belly. "This is it."

"Who is it?"


"Sugar better be going," Santana commented. "We let her sleep on our couch for 2 months."

"She's going," Brittany flashed the card at her. "It's such a shame she's broke now. I was able to afford a moped just from the times I frowned in her general direction."

"Who invests that much money in tarot cards, babe?" Santana asked.

"Someone with a very hazy vision."

"True," Santana picked up the cards. "Are we done here?"

"I think so," Brittany told her.

Santana stood up and turned around to pull Brittany to her feet as well. "I have to finish packing and you need to call your mom."

"K," the blonde said. She let Santana almost get away before she pulled her back. She hugged her, placed a sweet kiss on her temple and whispered, "We're getting married."

"Just one more week."

"And a cross country flight," Brittany added.

"One week and 2,859 miles."