The next morning Santana and Brittany woke at the unmistakable sound of little feet running down the hallway and a little voice to match yelling, "No tiger! I don't like tiger."
That was followed by a much more restrained set of bigger feet and the words, "What about an elephant? It's blue! Max! Max, come back!"
That was followed by the sound of four paws scratching at the hardwood and some really incessant barking.
Santana opened one eye and groaned, "Will I ever sleep again?"
Brittany wanted to echo the complaint. Every time Santana had to pee in the middle of night, who was in charge of pillow placement?
Exactly.
Instead of bemoaning her own lack of slumber, the blonde just pushed the dark hair off Santana's face and smiled. "Gud mornin."
"I guess the fact that Jamie is chasing Max around the house means that yesterday really happened and everyone is en route to Seattle."
Brittany rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched her arms above her head, smacking the headboard behind her. "According to Jamie, Rachel's jet was leaving New York first thing this morning. They're picking up my parents in Colorado and they'll be here early this afternoon."
"Great," Santana said sarcastically as she tried to rock herself over onto her back.
Brittany helped with a light shove to her opposite shoulder, "And we're supposed to be surprised."
"How surprised?" the brunette asked while kicking into the second phase of getting out of bed: swinging her feet to the floor. "Should I gasp in shock or piss my pants in excitement?"
"A simple 'I had no idea you were coming' would probably work," Brittany answered as she crawled down and pushed Santana's legs over the edge of the bed.
"I'm not sure I can pull it off."
"Try."
"I can't promise anything."
After giving her wife a bit of a lift in the general vicinity of Santana's ass, she asked, "For me?"
Santana rolled her eyes, "Oh-kay. I will act surprised. For. You."
"Thank you."
"So surprised, I'll punch Rachel in the face," Santana said as she slowly made her way to the bathroom.
"Too surprised!" Brittany called to her. "Dial it back."
When the two of them finally made it into the kitchen that morning, Jamie had already wrangled their son to the table for breakfast. Santana was wholly impressed that he was not only wearing clothes (given it was part of a Halloween costume from last year) but he was also eating a bowl of cereal.
"Good morning, Max," the woman greeted her son by pinching his cheek. "Did you have fun with Aunt Jamie?"
The look on Jamie's face signaled that she had had anything but fun.
Max, however, didn't harbor any ill feelings at all about the epic battle of wills. He smiled like a champ and nodded, "Anny Jamie cwied."
"Toldja he didn't like em," Brittany told her sister as she passed. She pulled out the chair in front of Santana, "Have a seat, I'll get it."
That meant that Brittany was going to grab Santana some fruit while she secretly ate some Lucky Charms right out of the box.
Maybe not so secretly actually. She just poured them right into her mouth and simultaneously plucked a banana from the bowl and kicked the fridge open to pull out some yogurt with her pinky.
"Multidextrous!" she exclaimed.
"Muldestrux!" Max repeated with similar enthusiasm
Brittany ruffled his hair after setting Santana's food in front her, "That's exactly right."
Two bites into Santana's customary fruity yogurt breakfast, she saw Brittany react to something outside their window.
"What in the he- enhouse is that about?" the blonde wondered with her eyes squinted.
"What is it?"
"Uh," Brittany fidgeted. She caught Santana's eye with obvious apprehension, quietly judging if this was going to cause mild rage or full-on Snix mode. "They're here. And well...Rach-"
"What did she do?" By the time Santana could make it to the window to see out, several members of their family had already filed out of the big black limo parked in the front yard. "Oh my god," Santana's mouth dropped open. "This is not early afternoon, Jamie."
"I gave you all the information I had," Jamie said in her own defense. "I swear."
"You're the worst double agent ever," Santana accused. "Seriously, you're the Officer Barbrady of double agenting."
"They must have bumped up the meet."
"And arrived at the drop zone ahead of schedule?"
Brittany just flung her arm around Santana's shoulders, "Let the games begin."
#####
Anyone could see the obvious displeasure on Santana's face as she watched the crowd that made up her extended family spoil her son. In fact, it looked much like Max was crowd surfing at a Tony Bennett concert. Her various parents, natural, grand and in-law, were handing the little boy off to each other in line it seemed. That is until he got anywhere near Rachel. Then he would scream like she had just turned off his "commercials." He was his Mommy's son, after all.
"Relax," Brittany mouthed from across the room.
"I'm relaxed," she answered as the blonde neared.
"You look angry," Brittany informed her. "And not just regular angry."
"Brittany, I love our family. Every single one of them. I do," Santana said sincerely. "But I'm not necessarily a huge fan having my son passed around like the prettiest whore at an accounting convention."
"San," Brittany scolded. "Max loves it when they're all here."
"Max loves it because they all give him candy," the brunette hooked her thumb in the direction of the living room. "Grampy Pierce, over there, has been dishing out leftover Easter peeps like a madman."
Brittany looked around Santana to see her father pull out yet another box of marshmallowy pink bunnies. "Mom must have let him loose in Costco again."
"Yeah, well...we should intervene before the sugar shock sets in."
"Okay, okay," Brittany stole a quick kiss before heading after her father and son, "Dad..."
"You look great," Maribel whispered in Santana's ear from behind, surprising her a bit. "I never thought I'd see the day."
"You've been saying that for nine months, Mami," Santana replied. "And, I don't look great...I look like Fat Bastard."
"You look preciosa," the older Lopez woman couldn't contain the joy in her eyes. She placed her hands on Santana's belly, "Estoy impaciente por conocerla."
"But if she's anything like you," Roberto Lopez entered the conversation by resting his hands on his daughter's shoulders, "she's going to be a handful. Tú fuiste un diablillo. Un verdadero monstruo de hecho."
"Hey momma," Kurt said cheerily, breaking the Lopez family moment.
Santana was a tad bit grateful. The sentimental feelings were starting to cloud her annoyance.
"Kurt Elizabeth Hummellady," Santana glared. "I specifically told you to come solo."
"I tried," Kurt promised. "She has an army of private investigators, Santana. It's like she could smell your due date."
"And you couldn't talk her out of it?"
"Talk me out of it?" Rachel sauntered up after making Max launch into another fit of hysterics with just her mere presence. "I wouldn't miss this for the world!"
"I didn't even know we were coming out here until I got on the jet and your parents were sitting there," Kurt explained fruitlessly to Santana. "It was Berry Black Ops. I was powerless to stop it."
"I'm hurt, Santana," Rachel said with all kinds of melancholy in her tone.
"Uncontrollable leg spasms are a symptom of pregnancy," Santana told her, referencing the greeting they shared just a few minutes before. "And I didn't even kick you that hard."
"Not about that. Although, that wasn't exactly the 'Welcome to Seattle' I was expecting."
"Next time, call a month in advance and I'll have a 'Rachel, Go Home' banner printed up to celebrate."
"It would match that 'Rachel, Eff Off' banner you had done for Max's first birthday party," Kurt stated with a grin. "That was the best."
"A little gratitude would be nice," Rachel told her after shooting daggers at Kurt. "I did bring your family together."
"Did it ever occur to you that, oh, I don't know, maybe I didn't necessarily want my family brought together until there was a small, innocent baby to distract them?"
Rachel thought about that for a few seconds, "No," she answered.
"Not only that," Santana was gaining a head of steam, "you parked that monstrosity of a limo in my front yard-"
"I bought that because I wanted everyone to be seated comfortably while we were here!"
"And, you have Beiste posted right outside my door."
"I would have posted her right inside the door," Rachel said. "But it's a family only occasion. She understands."
"Kurt," Santana regarded her best friend. "The 'Rachel, Eff Off' banner is in the garage. Get it, hang it up, that way I can just point to it."
#####
Santana stared at the clock. They were now entering hour number three of a Amor en el Probador Contiguo marathon. It just so happened to be Abuela's favorite telenovela. It apparently centered around some guy named Javier who, according to Alma, was the sexiest systems analyst in all of Mexico City.
The show had bored her to near death. Abuela, however, was entranced.
So was Kurt. The fashion designer had taken up residence next to her grandmother and ooo'd and ahh'd right along. When Santana challenged him about not understanding a thing that was happening, he spilled that he was newly dating David Martinez. David Martinez who, according to Kurt, was the sexiest Spanish teacher in all of Lower Manhattan.
Honestly, Santana didn't even know how they were hearing the television with Papa Pierce snoring in the recliner. Her own father was busy playing some obnoxiously scored game on his iPad. Besides that, Susan and Maribel were comparing notes while studying all the recent photos of Max.
Max, himself, had curled up between herself and Brittany on the couch. He was sleeping with one eye open because Rachel had planted herself on the other end.
Santana was truly grateful for everyone in the room. She loved them all, Rachel not as much, but loved nonetheless. This was not what she envisioned for her last few days of pregnancy, though. She wanted to be curled up with Britt, enjoying their last few nights of semi-uninterrupted sleep. She wanted to be the one spoiling their son before his days as only child vanished. She wanted to not be entertaining. She wanted...chocolate.
That last thing took over pretty quickly and she pinched the inside of her wife's leg.
Brittany, who had been nodding off every few minutes, woke up abruptly. The blonde could tell something was coming. Santana only fluttered her eyelashes like that for two things these days: sex and snacks. Very briefly, a jolt of electricity shot through her. Then she remembered that this wasn't exactly the time for sexing.
"What can I do for you?"
"Will you make me an M&M sandwich?" Santana asked. "Hold the bread."
"Of course, baby." Brittany lifted Max's feet off of her and stood.
Max, anticipating his left flank was vulnerable, scurried to the other side of Santana.
"Even in his sleep, he senses the evil," Santana said to Rachel.
In the subsequent sweep of the room, she found her wife bouncing to the kitchen. She took a moment to appreciate it before Brittany disappeared beyond the banner Kurt had indeed put up earlier. Much to Santana's disappointment, though, she had forgotten that Brittany had transformed it to 'Rachel, Elf Off' last Christmas. It was the thought that counts.
She was lost in daydream about kicking everyone out when a rhythmic, though very loud, knock reverberated all over the living room, Santana looked around to do a quick check. Everybody seemed to be accounted for, except...aw shit!
"Sam-u-el!" Brittany squealed from the doorway.
"Dammit," Santana said under her breath. Her eyes met with Kurt's. He was already squirming in his chair. "Did you know he was coming?"
"No!" Kurt protested. "How would I know? I haven't seen him since he left me standing in front of the 30th anniversary Howard the Duck robotic duckies at FAO."
That was true. Sam and Kurt had broken up when Sam did his own version of Escape from New York and left Kurt without a word. He then moved to Northern California where he was currently living off the grid as a part time grape stomper.
Sam's arrival caused a bit of a buzz around the room as everyone tried their best not to stare between the two formerly involved men. Which, by the way, they were all terrible at. Susan Pierce had stopped mid-carrot to volley back and forth like she was at Wimbledon.
Max, who was oblivious to the tension, greeted him with, "Hi Munky."
As soon as Santana caught onto Max's slight confusion about how to say 'uncle,' she immediately used it to her advantage. Just like you had to differentiate between Mommy and Momma, you had to have an unky and a munky. Eventually, much to her delight, the 'Sam' was dropped altogether.
"Hey, Max!" Sam waved. He gave Santana a tight smile before Brittany dragged him into the kitchen.
"This just keeps getting better," Santana said to no one in particular.
Jamie then plopped down beside her on the couch, stuffing what was probably Santana's intended bag of M&M's into her mouth. "Sam's here. And he looks like Kate Winslet."
Santana, disgusted to see her hard candy shelled snacks being obliterated, knocked the brown pack out of hand and replied, "Don't disrespect Kate Winslet in this house."
#####
What felt like hours later, Santana was awoken by a tapping on her elbow. When she opened her eyes, she saw Paul Pierce towering over her.
"Why don't you go get some rest, Cinnabuns?" Paul suggested with a wink. "We're going to take care of dinner."
"I can't-
"You can," he said. "Don't worry about it."
"Thanks Papa Pierce," she smiled. "You're my favorite father-in-law."
"I'm flattered," he chuckled. "Now go on. You have to stay rested while you've got my granddaughter in there. Go."
"I'm going!"
Santana did just that, escaping to her bedroom to lie in her comfy bed. Just as her eyes were about to close, she saw the bedroom door slowly creep open. She could tell who it was by the tiny little fingers wrapped around it.
She heard footsteps scurry across the floor and Max struggle to climb up on the bed. Finally, she felt the weight of his little body settle next to her.
"Hi Momma."
When she turned to look at him, he had his arms behind his head and his baby Nikes crossed at the feet. "Sup?" she asked.
"Pwayin hide and seek."
"Who ya hiding from?"
"Unky Kurt."
"You should stay low then," Santana advised. "He always looks at the shoes last."
"K," he said very seriously.
When the two of them heard a noise outside the door, his eyes got big. "Gotgo." He crawled down to the edge of the bed and wiggled down. When he got there, he hesitated.
"Max, psst," Santana said quietly.
After looking in her direction, she pointed to the walk-in closet that she and Brittany shared, "Try in there."
He nodded and took off for his new hiding place.
The seeker turned out to be Brittany, who wasn't actually seeking Max at all.
"Hey there," the blonde said as she skipped into the room. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay."
"Are you really or are you pouting?"
"I'm nine months pregnant, I'll pout if I want to," Santana told her with tone that left no room for a challenge.
"Go right ahead," Brittany granted permission. She then climbed onto the bed and situated herself next to Santana. "I didn't invite Sam."
"I didn't say you did."
"You're thinking it."
"No, I wasn't."
"Yes, you are, but I didn't. He put the pieces together after Rachel announced on Facebook that she was off to welcome her newest and youngest super fan."
"Okay."
"Okay." Brittany repeated.
The brunette laughed out loud when she noticed Britt's arms crossed behind her head and her Nikes crossed at the feet just as Max's had been.
"What?"
"Nothing," Santana shook her head. "You're...cute."
"Cute? Just cute?"
Santana's eyes trailed down her wife's body. She had returned to her pre-baby form not long after Max was born. Lucky bitch.
"Really cute?" Santana said playfully.
"I bet I can change your mind," Brittany said in her most seductive voice. She rolled right up next to her wife and trailed a fingernail down her arm. "Oh yeah."
She laughed at Brittany's flirtiness, "Britt Britt..."
"Santana," Brittany said back lowly.
"Our son is in the closet."
Brittany pulled back abruptly, "What? Really? How do you know that?"
"Uh...I saw him go in there."
"Oh," she slowed turned her head to see little Max standing just inside their walk-in. "Hey buddy!"
"Shhh," he shushed her. "Unky Kurt is wookin for me."
"Sorry," she mouthed more than said. She looked at her wife, "A heads up would have been nice there."
"You know the rule!"
"Always assume he's close enough to be scarred forever," Brittany recited for the millionth time in the last three years.
Kurt's head appeared from behind the door just a moment later. "Hey, am I interrupting?"
"Not anymore," Brittany said. She stole a kiss before scooting off the bed. As she passed Kurt, she motioned toward the closet with a nod and he got the message.
"Have you seen a man about 3 feet tall?" he asked Santana anyway.
"Nope, nobody matching that description has been through here," she said loudly. "Certainly not anybody like that hiding behind the Spring Collection."
She checked on Max who had hidden all of his body except for the tips of shoes. When she turned back to Kurt, he was beaming at her.
"That's creepy," Santana said pointing to his mouth.
"Look at you."
Santana sighed, "I know. I'm as big as a cruise ship."
"Oh, stop," Kurt said. "You look great."
"You're the one person that I trusted not to lie to me in a time like this."
"I'm not lying!"
"I'm sure Rachel still has her lie detector."
"Oh, she does," Kurt laughed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs. "You know, as soon as I met Britt, I knew that you'd marry her. I knew you'd live happily ever and have gorgeous babies-"
"The flawless plan-"
"Yeah," Kurt agreed, remembering the bullets of the Flawless Plan she recited to him years ago. "But, I never imagined, you would be..." He pointed to her stomach.
"A cruise ship?" Santana asked. "I know, me either."
"I couldn't be more happy for you."
"Thank you," she said genuinely. "I couldn't be more happy for me either."
"If you don't count the present company taking over your home."
"It's fine," Santana said quickly. After Kurt tilted his head in disbelief, she changed her answer. "I wasn't exactly planning for this, but...we always manage."
"You do."
"What about you?" Santana gave him a few taps on his elbow. "How are you managing?"
"With what? With Sam?"
"With Sam."
"I'm fine."
Santana wasn't entirely sure that was true. "You sure?"
"I let go of all that when I overnighted his last box of LOTR figures to his mother," Kurt told her. "He owes me about a grand in shipping, by the way."
"I hear he stomps a mean grape if you ever need a Lucille Ball impressionist."
"Speaking of careers," Kurt segued, "when are you going back to work?"
"Uh..." Santana's eyes slid away from his to the closet where Max was still hiding, "I'm not sure."
"Are you unhappy there?" Kurt was always looking for any tiny indication that Santana had finally had enough of Seattle and was ready to talk about moving back east.
"I'm just fine there," she said before he could whip up any ideas about her moving her family cross country. "It's not work. It's family stuff."
"Family stuff? Is something wrong?"
"No, no," Santana shook her head. "Everything is great. I'm just thinking of different options."
"Like...not going back?"
"Maybe."
Kurt stared at her with seemingly a million things at the tip of his tongue.
"Go ahead, Liza, tell me I'm being crazy."
The man shook his head. He stood up from the bed and made his way over to the closet where Max was just inside. "Where is that boy of yours?" he asked dramatically, making a show of looking all over. "That's an excellent hider you have!"
Just when he was ready to give up, Max jumped out with, "I'm wite here, Unky Kurt!"
"Oh!" he feigned shock at the sight of the three year old. He clapped his hand against his chest and everything. "Holy Julie Andrews on Broadway, you scared me!"
Max just could not get enough of his uncle's dramatics. "I gotcha!" he said with delight.
"You did."
"I bet dinner will be ready soon, Max," Santana told the boy after he had regained a bit of composure. "We need to get you all washed up."
"I'll take care of it," Kurt said, motioning for her to stay put. "I hardly ever get to hang out with my godson."
"That's hardly a pleasurable event, Kurt," Santana warned him. "Getting ready for dinner is only mildly easier than getting him dressed."
"We'll be okay," the man said with a wink. He lifted the boy and tucked him under his arm like a sack of potatoes. "Get some more rest. You're going to need all of it you can get for when you're on full-time Mom duty."
#####
"It's so nice having everyone here," Paul's booming voice quieted the rest of the people seated around the table. Dinner was on the table and dishes were being passed. "I'm glad we could all gather to celebrate the newest addition to the family."
"It's like a dream come true," Santana with a cheesy smile, handing off a bowl.
"We're excited you could make it," Brittany spoke up. She patted her son on the head, "Especially this guy."
Max shyly grinned at everybody.
"Our little Macaroon is growing up too fast," Paul said.
"He really is." Brittany shot a quick glance at her wife knowing that the subject of Max's growing up had caused a complete hormonal meltdown just a few days prior.
"I agree," Maribel added to the conversation. "It seems like just yesterday we were here for Max's birth."
"And now you're here for this one," Santana said to her mother. Then continued under her breath, "Completely uninvited."
"Anybody want some wine?" Sam asked from across the table. "I brought it straight from the vineyard."
"Have your feet touched it?" Santana asked. "I obviously can't have any, but I want everyone to know that there's a possibility your feet have touched it."
"Nooo," he said, completely unconvincingly.
"Have you two decided on a name? " Abuela inquired.
"We're working on it, Abuela."
"We've actually been calling her BayLo," Brittany said, all smiles. "Baby Lopez."
"BayWo," Max parroted.
"I have a suggestion," Susan offered while munching on a bean. "If you don't mind, that is."
Santana looked at Brittany. Brittany scratched her ear nervously.
"Mom...uh...I don't think we're taking suggestions."
"Maria Teresa Linda Pilar," Abuela told them unprovoked.
"It's too bad you all boys, Ma," Roberto chuckled.
"Taking it into consideration," Santana promised. Her eyes widened at Brittany in an unspoken gesture that there was absolutely no chance of them naming the baby Maria Teresa Linda Pilar.
"Eloise," Susan continued with her own suggestion. "It was my mother's name. She wanted me to name you after her."
"You dodged one there, Sis," Jamie snorted.
Rachel, never wanting to be outdone shouted, "Barbra!"
"Not Barbra, no," Brittany said to her. She then turned her attention to her mother, "And I'm not sure that Eloise is quite what we had in mind."
"She was a lovely woman," Susan made a last ditch effort to change her mind. "Smoked like a chimney and had a mouth like a sailor, but lovely."
"And the pills, don't forget the pills," Brittany added. "She had a pill for everything. 'Have a rock in your shoe? I have pills for that.'"
"What about Samantha?" Sam tried to slip in nonchalantly. "Samantha's a good, strong name."
"Not even if it was the last name on earth," Santana assured him. "Nope."
"Roberta," Roberto said after clearing his throat.
"Ha ha, Papi."
"If he gets Roberta in the hat, I want Paula," Paul threw out there. "Or Strudel."
"There will be no Little Roberta or Little Paula," Santana told them. "Or Strudel, Papa Pierce."
"Coco?" Kurt suggested as he took a bite of chicken.
"As in chocolate?" Brittany was intrigued.
"As in Chanel," Kurt clarified.
"Susie," Jamie put on the table.
"Aww," Susan patted her daughter on the back. "That's sweet."
"If they went with it, I wouldn't feel the pressure to name my own daughter after you."
Maribel leaned over and nudged Santana just a bit, "Isabel?"
"Hm," Santana acknowledged. "Isabel." She reached over and tapped the table, signaling Brittany. "Isabel?"
"Interesting," Brittany offered in response.
"Isabel Roberta," Roberto said with a sly smile. "That's a nice name for a little girl."
"It's a beautiful name, Papi," Santana agreed. "Not necessarily for this particular little girl."
"Esther?" Sam said. "It's biblical."
"Patti!" Rachel practically screamed.
"Maria Teresa Linda Pilar," Abuela said again like it was the first time. "I saw the look you gave Brittany."
"Abuela, it's nice, but-"
"It's an old woman's dying wish!"
"You're not dying," Santana groaned in frustration. "You're the healthiest person here."
"You should think about it," Alma pointed at her. She then pointed at Brittany, "You, too."
"It's on the short list," Brittany nodded.
"I told you we'll consider it," Santana said.
"You're lying to an old woman," Alma complained.
"They are," Kurt agreed, who had really bonded with Abuela with their shared interest in Javier on Amor en el Probador Contiguo.
"Stay out of it, Kurt," Santana shot him a look.
"Yeah, Kurt," Sam agreed.
"I don't need you to help me," Santana said to Sam.
"Santana." Brittany was trying to keep her wife in check.
"Don't worry," Kurt said smugly. "He's just mad that I've moved on and he's...doing whatever he's doing."
"Grape stomping is a skill," Sam said defensively. "And I left you."
"Cool it!" Papa Pierce boomed in his deepest, most authoritative voice.
An awkward silence fell over the table until, Rachel cleared her throat obnoxiously. "So, Kurt tells me you used the same donor," she said curiously.
Santana, busy with cutting Max's chicken into tiny pieces didn't answer, so Brittany did, "Yep."
"Oh," Rachel accepted. "I just wondered since the first one was..."
"Hispanic," Santana supplied, pointing the knife at her.
"Yes," Rachel nodded. "I wondered if..."
"We'd go white next?"
"I'm not sure that's exactly what she was implying," Sam started. When he actually looked up from his chicken to Santana, he stopped talking and slowly ducked back down.
"We thought about it," Brittany said to everyone.
"Not that the process is anybody's business..." Santana muttered.
"But," Brittany cut off anything else her wife might say, "we felt it was important for Max and his sister to have that connection."
"For what it's worth, I agree," Paul said to his daughter.
"Me, too," Maribel spoke up.
"Wait a second," Susan paused. She pointed at her grandson, "Should we be..."
Max was even paying attention to them, he was too busy feeding tiny pieces of chicken to Ruffles under the table.
"It's fine," Brittany told her. "We're being open about it. We don't want it to be taboo."
"We want him to ask any questions he might have," Santana explained.
"So, you've told him about the artificial insemination?" Sam asked as he finished off his salad.
"We said we didn't want it to be taboo, not that we wanted him in therapy as a kindergartener," Santana scoffed and flung a roll at him.
The roll took a hard slice to the right, narrowly missing Abuela, who said, "I say if artificial insemination is good enough for the Virgin Mary, it's good enough for my granddaughter."
"Thanks Abuela," Brittany accepted the sentiment on Santana's behalf.
"So, Brittany," Maribel leaned up to look around her daughter at her daughter-in-law, "you'll be taking some time off, right?"
Brittany chewed until she swallowed before answering, "I have a couple loose ends with the project I'm working on, but I'll be around for a few weeks."
"And Manny will be here as well?" Maribel kept questioning.
"Manny?" Sam said in question. "Who's Manny?"
"The manny," Santana answered.
"Yeah, who is it?"
"Manny the manny, Sam," Brittany clarified. "He's our manny. His name is Manny."
"Oh."
"He's lovely," Rachel added.
"And a Seahawks fan," Paul mentioned.
"Priorities, Dad," Brittany said.
"What? It's rare to find a dedicated Seahawks fan these days."
"And hot!" Jamie said. All the non-lesbian women and Kurt all agreed.
"And very well-dressed," Kurt declared, his face propped up on his hand with a dreamy look in his eye. "You know what I've always wondered-"
"Yes," Santana cut him off. "I do know what you've always wondered, and we don't know."
"We've never asked," Brittany said.
"Because it doesn't matter," Santana tried to end the discussion on this topic.
"It doesn't," Abuela agreed. "But he is. I know, I learned how to spot them on the internet."
"I don't think so," Jamie spoke up.
"I do," Susan elbowed her youngest daughter.
"I always thought so," Roberto said.
"Really?" Maribel asked him. "I don't see it."
"So well-dressed," Kurt reiterated.
"Nah," Paul said before standing to get the dessert he whipped up. "I thought he mentioned someone before."
"That was a sister," Rachel said to him.
"Oh."
"Can we not discuss this?" Santana said loudly.
Everybody quieted again before Brittany said, "I think so, Santana doesn't."
"Stop speculating...he may not even be around for much longer anyway," Santana said.
"Where's Manny going?" Rachel whined. "He's so good at celebrity crosswords."
"And he built Ruffles' dog house," Paul said. "Good craftsmanship."
"He's not going anywhere." Santana was getting increasingly impatient. "He just might not be here."
"That made no sense," Sam, of all people, pointed out. "I want to meet him."
"Why?"
"So I can have an opinion," he answered.
"He's not interested," Kurt slipped in. "I've told him all about you."
"Move on already," Sam shot back. "You're the mayor of Bitterville."
"Ohh noo," Kurt said dramatically. "I'm living in Just Fine Town. In fact, I'm sunbathing on the balcony of my Dating Again Condominium."
"Guys," Brittany pleaded. "Stop."
"He started it," Sam argued.
Santana looked over to Brittany and simply said, "Ears."
Brittany jumped right into action by placing her hands over Max's young impressionable ears. "Go ahead."
"You two need stop it," Santana said pointing between them. "Not at dinner, got me? 'Cause right now, you're in LesbiLand. I'm the governor here. And Britt's the president. So get over it before I send you both packing on the Bitchtown Express."
When she was done she checked on Max who had resumed eating the Mac and Cheese especially prepared for him. She patted his head, "Tell your uncles you love them."
"Love you, unkies!" Max said while chewing noodles.
"Thank you," she said to her son. She then addressed Sam and Kurt, "Be good."
#####
"There you are, Mrs. Lopez," Brittany said as she peeked in their bedroom.
Santana had decided to retire from all the fun and seek out some peace and quiet. "Hey baby," she smiled wearily from the seat in front of her vanity.
Brittany closed the door softly and headed over her to wife. She leaned down so she could see both of them in the mirror and winked. "How are you?"
"Tired."
"That's to be expected."
"How's it going out there? Sam and Kurt still on their best behavior?"
The blonde trailed her hand down Santana's back before giving her a sweet kiss on the back of her neck. She flopped down on the bed before answering, "Everyone except James left. Sam went to his mom's. Rachel rounded up our parents and Kurt and took them back to the hotel."
"She wants something," Santana thought out loud after a minute of silence.
"Well, yeah, it's been a while," Brittany agreed. "But Jamie's here. And you're tired and way too uncomfortable."
"Rachel."
"Nah, she's pretty and all, but I don't get the appeal."
"Not you," Santana said over her shoulder. "Rachel wants something."
Brittany sat up, twisted around, and crossed her feet in her lap, "You think?"
"I know," Santana nodded. "She's so transparent."
"That little Gregory in Max's Gymboree class has a trans parent."
"Oh, I love her," Santana perked up. "I've been meaning to ask where she gets her nails done."
"It's the place on Third Avenue," Brittany told her. "And she has much better style than Rachel."
"You're right, but Berry's still up to something."
"Probably wanting you to reconsider moving back New York...again."
"Kurt did bring it up...again."
"Well..."
"Noo- oh...ahh," Santana took a deep breath out and caressed her belly. "She's a hyper little thing."
Brittany hopped off the bed to feel the baby. "Ohh, she's really moving around in there."
"Dancer."
"Just like Hammer."
"I was actually thinking more like Beyonce, but Hammer, too."
"Reminds me of our first dance as a married couple," Brittany reminisced. "Do you remember?"
"Of course, I remember," Santana smiled at the memory. "2 Legit 2 Quit."
"You and me, babe," Brittany said. "We're 2 Legit."
Santana smiled at her wife. "Help me."
Brittany hopped up, she held out her hands. Santana wrapped her fingers around Brittany's wrists and let herself get pulled to her feet.
"Hey," the blonde whispered as she ran her fingers through Santana's dark hair. "You know what my favorite part of that day was?"
"When I locked Rachel in the bathroom because she got ordained online?"
"Nope."
"Just married sex?"
"That was awesome, but no."
"Hmm...what was it?"
"It was before the wedding even happened. You were all stressed out because Rachel was driving you insane and I was stressed out because that stupid rule you made up."
"I didn't make that up!" Santana contested as she let her hands fall to her wife's hips. She followed the sway that Brittany had unconsciously started. "You really aren't supposed to see the bride."
"In the dress!"
"At all."
"We never did google that," Santana recalled.
"We never did." Brittany arms rested on Santana's shoulders. "I guess it didn't matter afterward."
"We argued about it for ten minutes on opposite sides of that door, though," Santana laughed. "So that was your favorite part of our wedding day?"
"You remember how it ended?" Brittany questioned.
"Yeah, you made Kurt cover my eyes and opened the door just wide enough for your lips to get through."
"And?"
"It made everything better."
"That's when I knew, no matter what, we'd always always find a way to connect," Brittany explained. "Through a door. Across a country. Whatever it is, I knew we'd always figure out a way. That it was right...and it was forever."
"Aww, Britt Britt..." Santana leaned into her wife as much as possible.
"What was your favorite part of that day?"
"The just married sex."
"Of course," Brittany said, rolling her eyes.
"I'm serious though," Santana told her honestly. "The first time as wife and wife. It was..."
"Right?"
"Yeah...Forever."
The two of them continued to dance without music in the middle of their bedroom hanging onto each other for quite some time.
Well, until Santana complained that her back hurt.