In case you were wondering, my headcanon (and my sister's) is that Shelby stayed nearby with Beth because being a single mother is hard and also for weird connecting-with-Rachel-the-long-lost-daughter stuff, and the New Directions kids take care of her quite a lot. Also, Beth calls the girls (plus Kurt and minus Santana) "Buggy" because when she was learning to talk someone (Finn or Puck probably) showed her the ants that were probably in the bathroom or something, and from then on she thought that "Aunt" meant the bug.

Also. I cherish you guys's reviews. Thanks. :) Okay, storytime.

Four in the morning is an odd time to be getting phone calls. This is Santana's first thought when she is jerked awake by an obnoxiously loud rendition of Baby Got Back as it slices through her dream (no, slice sounds too graceful. It pounds. Or crushes. Mashes?).

Usually when you get a call this late, it is unbelievably important. Like, somebody is in the hospital. That is Santana's second thought.

Puck is the one on her caller ID. Somehow, her groggy brain remembers that he has Beth at his house this weekend. He and 'Uncle Fish' are babysitting her. To Santana's understanding, they are having some sort of SpongeBob SquarePants marathon. That is Santana's third thought.

She doesn't get to a fourth thought, because suddenly the second one comes back into her mind, this time coupled with the knowledge that Puck and Finn are watching Beth and, oh shit. Oh shit, they killed her, or let her jump off the bed and she broke her arm, or she has her hand stuck in the sink, or…

"Hello? Puck? What's wrong, is everything alright?"

"No, it's not. I need you. I need your help."

"Why? Who's hurt, how bad is it? Will she be okay?"

"Um… she… Beth? Yeah, she's fine. Nobody's hurt. Are you alright?"

Santana narrows her eyes, her panic fading. "Yeah. I'm fine. So… if nobody is dying, why are you calling me?"

"Because we're going to the store."

"Wonderful. But why are you telling me."

"You're coming with me. We're the 'we.' You and me. We."

"You asshole, I thought this was serious! I'm going back to bed. Get Quinn to do go with you."

"I can't! It's four in the morning!"

"Oh, so you won't wake Quinn up at four in the morning, but I'm fair game?"

"Please, Santana? You're my best bro!"

She hears someone say something in the background; no doubt Finn's indignant protest. Puck says something that is probably reassuring and apologetic, but he must have covered the mouth of the phone with his hand or something because hell if she hears what it is.

"Right, sorry about that. So are you in?"

Santana scowls at nothing (it is too dark to have something specific to scowl at). Fighting a yawn, she glances to her left and tries to make out the shadowy lump soundly sleeping next to her. Santana is very, very jealous of her at the moment. "Why the hell are you wanting to go to the store this late, anyways?"

Puck sounds sheepish, even through the phone and Santana's sleep-fogged mind. "We're out of mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"By 'we,' do you mean you and me, or you and someone else?"

"No, this 'we' applies to Beth, Finn, and me."

"Oh, you used a semi-big word. Congratulations."

"Semi like the truck? Whatever, it doesn't matter. I need that ice cream."

"And I care why?"

"It's Beth's favorite!"

"Again. I care why?"

"Because you love Beth."

"Not enough to go buy her some ice cream at four in the morning."

Puck huffs. "Look, I'm just asking you for a favor. Finn can't go with me because he's gonna watch Beth while we're out."

"Evans?"

"He refuses to after last time."

"Oh, the syrup wasn't that sticky." Santana rolls her eyes. They have adjusted to the darkness by now, which is good, but that also means she is fully awake, which is bad. "Go alone."

"No way! Do you know how bad it looks when a guy goes out and buys ice cream this late at night by himself?"

"So take Finn and Beth with you."

"Two guys with a kid looks worse! Look, Santana, you're my only hope."

"Sucks to suck. I'm going to cuddle with my girlfriend now and try to go back to sleep."

As if that were some sort of cue, Brittany rolls over and throws and arm over Santana's legs, pulling her head onto her lap. She blinks up at her a few times. "Who's that?" She mumbles sleepily.

"Puck."

"What's he want?"

"Ice cream."

Brittany shoots up like a freaking Jack-In-The-Box (Santana does not yelp, that is a figment of the imagination). "I love ice cream!"

"I know." Santana sighs. She tries to tune out the sound of Puck's laughter on the other end of the phone. "But I like sleeping."

"We can do both. Sleeping is more fun with ice cream." Even in the dark, Santana can clearly see Brittany's teeth when she grins.

Santana clears her throat and holds the phone away from her. "The other kind of sleeping, babe."

Despite her best efforts, Puck hears and his laughter gets louder.

"Oh." Brittany pouts. "But we can still get ice cream, right?"

Santana sighs. "Whatever. I'm awake now, no thanks to Jew-Hawk." She returns her attention to the phone. "We'll meet you at your place in ten."

GLEE

Santana is pretty sure they were supposed to just grab the ice cream, pay, and leave.

Of course that is exactly what doesn't happen.

Brittany sees cupcakes. Santana, being a good girlfriend, grabs them. Puck decides that barbeque chips are a must. And soda, can't forget soda. Oh, and how about some snack cakes? Beth likes snack cakes.

And can they get some pudding? The kind with sprinkles is the best.

While they're over there, they should get jell-o. Beth likes the green kind, just like her daddy.

Aren't Jews supposed to not eat jell-o?

Oh, so Santana doesn't care when Quinn forces him to make bacon, but when he expresses an interest in non-kosher gelatinous sweets it is time to throw the Torah at him.

Quit arguing, guys, Brittany wants donuts.

And coffee might be a good idea. Can five-year-olds drink coffee? Eh, can't hurt.

No, don't, she'll be a midget and then she'll have to become a leprechaun like Rory because she'll be too short for everything else.

Oh, man, he didn't think about that. Thanks Britt. They'll get some juice instead.

Grape juice and apple juice. But not orange juice, it makes Santana's stomach hurt. When her stomach hurts, she gets grumpy and then cuddling is no fun because she keeps complaining.

That is so not true! Mostly!

Oh, hey, can they get pop-tarts?

Oh, yeah, definitely. Puck's favorite is the blueberry kind, but they should get tons and find out which Beth likes the most.

"This is ridiculous." Santana says as they stand at the check-out counter. "Did we even remember to get ice cream?"

Puck and Brittany share a look that clearly says, oh, no they didn't. Then, in perfect unison, they shoot Santana a look that clearly says, would she kindly get some?

Finally, they pile into Puck's car. Santana is looking forward to getting to his place so that they can then take their food, get into Santana's car, and drive back to their apartment.

"You guys want to watch SpongeBob with us?"

"Yes! Oh, San, can we?"

God. Damn. It.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

GLEE

"It's, like, five in the morning. How does Beth have this much energy?" Santana groans as the little girl sings the SpongeBob theme song loudly with Finn.

"Never underestimate the power of Coca-cola and sugary snack cakes." Puck says with a grin, his eyes on his baby girl.

"Does Shelby know that this is what you get up to on your weekends with Beth?"

He grins, but his eyes say, absolutely no fucking way.

And really, she isn't surprised.

Beth climbs onto Brittany's lap, a bowl of ice cream in hand. A blueberry pop-tart is sticking out of the ice cream like some sort of flag. She yawns, takes a sip of grape juice, then shovels a spoonful of mint chocolate chip into her mouth like a pro. Santana is kind of proud.

"Did you know Sandy is from Texas?" Beth says suddenly, turning wide, sugar-glazed eyes to Santana.

"Uh. No." She says.

Brittany squeezes her arm around Santana's shoulders, grinning. "Santana has never really watched SpongeBob. I tried to get her to, once, but she didn't like it."

"I wanna go to Texas." Beth looks at them with wide eyes. "Tia Tana, Buggy Britt-Britt, can we go to Texas?"

"Eat your ice cream." Santana says. She has learned that saying no to Beth is like saying no to Brittany. She can't, for the life of her, do it. As much as she would like to deny it, she kinda sorta maybe has a soft spot for Beth (it's tiny, and maybe soft isn't the right word. More like spongy. Or padded. Cushiony?). So she has learned that the best way of saying no is to not say it at all and change the subject before she takes it as a yes.

An hour later, Brittany has fallen asleep on Santana and Beth has fallen asleep on Brittany. Finn is putting things back in the refrigerator while Puck gathers up trash around the living room.

"Hey, thanks." Puck says, grabbing the bowl of half-eaten ice cream out of Beth's lap before it spills. "For coming over."

"Well, Britt heard ice cream and then I didn't have much of a choice."

Puck grins. "You're her favorite, you know." He gestures to Beth. "Well, aside from me." Santana rolls her eyes. Puck laughs. "No, I'm serious! She adores you. You kinda spoil her rotten." A pause. "We do. We being me and you."

Santana shrugs the shoulder that isn't serving as a pillow to Brittany. "I do what I can to shut her up." Translation: I will kick your ass if you say that to anybody else.

"You'd be a good mom." Puck tells her. "Seriously. Have you and Britt thought about kids?"

"Britt and I haven't even thought about what we're having for lunch later today."

"Eat here. That takes one thing off of your minds to consider." He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Seriously, have you?"

"No."

"You should." He holds his hands out like he is framing a picture. "This would be an ace family portrait."

Santana snorts.

"San, really. Brittany makes you happy, and Beth makes you happy. And you're so pretty when you're happy." He lowers his hands. "And also, if you decide to have kids, I reserve the right to be the baby-daddy."

"And the motive becomes clear. You just want another kid to spoil."

Puck laughs and shrugs. He takes the trash to the kitchen.

Santana doesn't like kids. They are loud, they are smelly, and sticky and bratty and gross. But she thinks Puck might have a point.

Beth is curled up, her little hands clutching the front of Brittany's shirt. Brittany's eyes are closed, but her mouth is open just the tiniest bit as she breathes in, out against Santana's neck, her lips curved into the faintest smile.

This really would be an ace family portrait.