Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

TW: Reference to date rape; it will eventually become central to the plot.

Chapter One

Four Years Prior

"Shit," Brittany breathed, standing in the bathroom of Santana's dorm room, the June sun streaming down onto her face through the tiny window. She stared in disbelief at the little white stick, and it's menacing blue plus.

Two months ago, she and Santana had broken up for all of three days, before they'd realized that right now they were exactly what the other needed. Sure, the distance was hard; Brittany was repeating her senior year and Santana was four hours away at university, but the moment Santana had shown up on her doorstep—crying, saying that she'd made a terrible mistake—Brittany had taken her back. Maybe that had been unwise, but there was something about Santana that made Brittany want to grab on and never let go. She wasn't about to let it slip out of her hands a second time.

But she had blown it.

In those three days, she'd managed to get herself into a predicament that she wasn't sure she could bring herself to undo. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to undo it. Well, she didn't. Not that there was anything wrong with those otherchoices, but they just weren't for Brittany. She knew that it might cost her the girl who was probably the love of her life, but she just couldn't see herself making any other decision.

So much for a pleasant, spur of the moment visit. She had planned to come see Santana for a weekend of bonding and bedroom fun, but now that idea seemed like a dream from long ago.

Maybe it would have been okay if Brittany could figure out who the father was, but she had been so smashed at Blaine's party that she couldn't even remember having sex. That was the only time it could have possibly happened, as people didn't generally just magically become pregnant, as she had learned in her Junior year. She couldn't believe this was how she was going to lose Santana. A drunken fling at a party, a drunken something that she didn't even count as a fling. It made her feel disgusting.

Tears were welling over in her eyes, but she didn't realize she was crying until she heard herself sob. She had made the biggest mess, and there was no way she could make everything right again.

The test clanged as it fell into the small trashcan, having been thrown with a violence that was perhaps unnecessary. Brittany went into Santana's room, which was thankfully empty, and threw herself onto her girlfriend's bed, covering her face with her arms.

That's how Santana found her when she returned from class two hours later. "Babe? What's going on? Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice quaking with worry. She instinctually wrapped her arms around the other girl.

"I'm so sorry," Brittany whispered.

Santana was taken off guard. She hesitated. "Sorry for what?"

The blond girl's words were barely audible when she spoke: "Promise you won't hate me."

Santana raised her eyebrows, a little offended. "Britt, how could I ever hate you?"

"Promise!"

"Okay, okay, I promise." She put her hands in the air concedingly. "Now, tell me what's wrong so I can make it better."

Brittany took a deep breath.

"Remember Blaine's huge rager that I told you about?" Santana nodded, still confused. "Well, I think something might have happened there…"

Today

"Jesus, can't I ever be on time?" Santana asked herself, heels clicking wildly as she practically ran along the New York City sidewalk. This was one appointment that she absolutely didn't want to miss.

Eventually, she found the address she was looking for and rushed into the lobby; then her heart sank, and she got out her Blackberry to be sure that she had the right place. She did.

It was glamorous, but it was a little too glamorous. The doorman and desk manager were dressed in three-piece suits, there was a fountain in the middle of the room, with a shimmering crystal chandelier hanging above it. Those were all well and good, and the restaurant on the first floor was a great amenity, but it undoubtedly was also an expensive one.

She dialed a number on her phone, and a man picked up on the other end. "Liam!" she hissed, annoyed that he was wasting her lunch break with a place she clearly couldn't afford, "Where are you?"

"Turn around," he said, and she did, jumping when she realized he was only a foot away. "Sorry," he continued, running a hand through his graying red hair. "I was just getting the keys from the manager."

She ignored this. "Are you crazy?" she spat.

He scrunched his brow. "I don't believe so."

She gestured towards the fountain. "You don't like water fixtures?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"'Water fixtures' are fine," she scathed, "But I'm pretty sure I was abundantly clear about how much I was willing to pay for a condo, so I don't really know why you're showing me a place in this building. I would like to have my family out here in the relatively near future, you know."

Santana was starting to be very tired of house hunting. As soon as she'd graduated, she had landed a fantastic job as a gossip columnist for a relatively well-known magazine. It paid well, extended benefits to her family, and was pretty much everything she'd ever dreamed of in a job. The only problem was that it happened to be based in New York City, a significant plane ride from where she, her fiancée Brittany, and daughter Kaleigh were currently living in Ohio.

Now, she and Brittany had initially anticipated spending a month or two apart before Santana could find them a condo. However, between her hectic new job, going back to Ohio every other weekend, and adjusting to a new city, Santana had had absolutely no luck in the condominium-department. They were always in dangerous areas, or too small, or, like this one was undoubtedly going to be, too expensive.

Finally, her boss, who could see that living out of a hotel room took a toll on Santana's job performance, took pity on her and recommended Liam Dryer. Santana had originally planned to save money by finding a place without an agent, but at that point she had just given in and agreed to meet him for sushi.

She'd taken to him right away. He was probably in his late thirties, witty, and had very dark hair and very light eyes. Most importantly, he seemed to have listened to what she'd wanted and told her that he thought he had just the right place in mind for her.

However, this had clearly turned out to not be the case. "Before I even look at it," she told him, hitting a button to check the time on her Blackberry, "you're going to tell me how much this condominium costs."

At this, Liam laughed. "Miss Lopez," he said, eyes twinkling, "I was listening when you told me your price range. You canafford a condo in this building—it just happens to be on the third floor." Then, he told her the price. She was again shocked, but this time in a good way.

Santana now allowed herself to examine the building more closely. She noticed the heaviness of the doors, the hue of the deep green carpet, and the man holding the hand of a young girl she presumed was his daughter, which made her heart ache for her own.

"Do you think the third floor is safe enough for children?" she asked, as they got into the elevator. Again, Liam smiled.

"In this building, it is."

As soon as they stepped in, they were stepping out. It was on the third floor, after all. They got to a set of double glass doors with a keypad. That made Santana a little nervous. What if Kaleigh got locked out of the residential area on their floor? She was only four, and couldn't be counted on to remember a pin number. Then again, if they somehow locked their daughter out, they would be very negligent parents. She told herself she needed to calm down.

"It's number 305," said Liam, walking to the second to last door on the left, and unlocked it with a shiny key. "The current owners have already moved out," he continued, "so it's pretty empty."

When she stepped into the foyer, Santana got a good feeling, for the first time since she had since she'd started her search. The floors were a light wood, and there was a hallway with several archways on either side, with a window at the end.

The more Santana looked around, the more she fell in love. To the right there was an open living space, with just enough room for a dining area and living room. To the left was the kitchen, which had clean, white tile. The two bedrooms were small, but not cramped, and located off the kitchen, on the main wall of building so that they could have windows. The bathroom was pretty standard: a shower-tub, toilet, and sink.

In short, it was perfect.

"When can we move in?" Santana asked, grinning at Liam Dryer. Just as her boss had promised, he was the all you could want, as far as real estate agents went.

The process went by quickly. The price was right, Santana was eager to buy, and the owners, who had, perhaps unwisely, already bought another home, were eager to sell. Before the reality had even really sunk in, everything was signed and sealed. In two weeks, Santana finally checked out of the hotel where she was staying. The concierge was sad to see her go, but Santana could not have been happier.