Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any songs performed in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

For days Des had been forced to act as a tour guide to her mother. It was driving her insane and it made her feel like a tourist.

"What's this? What's that? Where is [fill in the blank]? What's the best place for [fill in the blank]?" was all she'd heard all week. That, and little remarks about her apartment, love life, regular life, and everything in between.

That's why on Thursday, when she got the text from Santana saying she was home, Des was so relieved.

"What are you grinning about, Desdemona?"

"Nothing," Des lied.

Had she been grinning?

"Oh, come on, you can tell me," her mom cooed.

"Nothin' to tell. Just Santana's back from Ohio."

Des shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. Then she remembered what Santana had said. 'It's a big bed. We can share.' She blushed and kicked herself mentally.

Her mother shot her a knowing look, but didn't actually say anything for once.

When they got back to the apartment Santana was passed out on the couch. The light of the setting sun peeked in through the window and made Santana look almost angelic in her sleep. Des motioned for her mom to be quiet as they came in.

They quietly snuck back to Des' room so her mom could put away the things she'd bought while they were out.

"That's Santana?" her mother asked.

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I just...didn't picture that..her, I mean."

"What did you picture?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. I just didn't think she would look so..."

"So?"

"So mature."

"Mature?"

"Yes, mature. She's very...developed."

"Oh my God! Are you talking about my roommate's boobs!?"

Her mother's face went pink and she gave Des an sharp look.

"What? I'm not the one talking about boobs," Des told her.

"Don't be so crass, Desdemona. I simply meant..."

"That she has big boobs and looks like a supermodel."

Her mom rolled her eyes and continued stuffing her things away haughtily.

Des made cornflake chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and gravy for dinner. Santana woke up when Des tried and failed to quietly pull out a pot to make the potatoes in.

"Sorry," Des said as Santana sat up and stretched.

Her t-shirt hung loose and her yoga pants accentuated her curves. Des had to turn her focus on closing the cabinet door for fear of staring.

"It's okay. When did you come in?" Santana asked, abandoning her spot on the couch and meandering into the kitchen.

Des busied herself with washing the potatoes.

"A little bit ago. After you texted."

"Cool. I didn't hear you come in."

"I saw you sleeping and we came in as quietly as possible. I figured you'd be really tired."

Santana smiled.

"I was."

"But things went well?" Des asked, changing the subject as she began chopping the potatoes into chunks.

"It went way better than expected. She forgave me and apologized and told me she loved me."

Des smiled.

"I knew she'd come around. You're way too amazing for anyone to not want you in their life."

Santana grinned.

Des chopped silently for a while as Santana watched. She managed to keep her eyes on her work or at least look Santana in the eyes rather than checking her out like she wanted to.

"So where's your mom?" Santana asked as Des finished chopping the last potato.

"My room. She had some papers to look over for her last conference tomorrow."

Santana nodded slowly.

"I really meant what I said. We can share my bed. I know the couch is uncomfortable."

"I don't want to burden you..."

Santana took her hand the way Des always too Santana's.

"Hey, it's not a problem."

Des smiled and felt herself go pink as she stared into Santana's mesmerizing brown eyes.

"If you're sure," she said, feeling things she hadn't felt in a good while.

"I'm sure," Santana replied with the same hungry look in her eyes she'd had the day her mom had called from Ohio.

Des bit her lip and turned back to the food. She wasn't sure how long she could keep this up. There was only so much she could control and the urge to kiss Santana was getting stronger all the time.

She remembered the first time she'd ever laid eyes on Santana. She had never seen someone so absolutely flawless in her entire life. She had quickly shaken all thoughts of ever having a chance with her out of her mind, assuming that Santana was straight. When she found out that she wasn't, it was worse. Des knew Santana was out of her league and that was difficult to handle.

As they slowly became closer and got to know each other better, Des couldn't help but start to fall for Santana...hard. Sure Santana was abrasive, occasionally rude, and had walls up a mile high, but she was also caring, vulnerable, and beautiful on more than just a physical level.

Des couldn't be sure when things seemed to really change for Santana, but she had been prepared to accept nothing more than friendship since the beginning. All of a sudden there was an opportunity to take the plunge and try for more but she wasn't sure she should take it.

It wasn't that she'd changed her mind. It was just that...well, there were plenty of reasons.

1. Santana was only nineteen. Not that Des was old, but she was more experienced.

2. Santana was just beginning to truly come out of her post-breakup depression with Brittany. She was just starting to move on.

3. Santana was still out of her league.

4. They were friends and Des knew that it would be weird if they broke up. She wanted Santana in her life, even if it wasn't romantically.

Des shook herself from her thoughts as dinner was almost done. Her mother came into the kitchen and inhaled.

"Smells good," she said.

Santana emerged from the bathroom, where she had just taken a shower.

"Mmm," she breathed, inhaling the aroma in the kitchen.

Des' mom turned around.

"You must be Santana," she said, holding out her hand.

Santana shook it and nodded.

"Lisa Collins, Desdemona's mother."

Santana smiled.

"It's nice to meet you," she said pleasantly.

Des felt her stomach begin to churn.

This could be bad, she thought.

Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be out ASAP and we'll see what happens when she and Santana share a bed for the first time. Just a reminder, I would love to get some feedback on my Lima-centric story idea. If you don't know what it is, simply go back to last week's chapter and go all the way down to the bottom, then send me a message and let me know your thoughts. Until next time...