A/N: Yep, second one of the day. I really was in a writing mood, apparently. I don't even have the time to be writing, but I just couldn't help it.

A disclaimer, just for good measure: nothing is mine. Except the OCs ofc.

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I bury my face in my hands and yawn, followed by a stretch. I've been staring at the computer screen for too long now and decide that I will check my latest "chapter" later. I've found it enjoyable to write about our early days, reflecting on how it all came about.

Maybe it'd be cool if Santana would also write down her thoughts like this and then we could compare, but I know she's too busy so I won't ask her to. Thinking of my beautiful, sexy wife does give me an idea, though. I've only been home for a week and I'm already bored out of my mind. I feel like I'm suffocating in this appartment, but Santana insisted that I stay home early in the pregnancy to ensure that nothing goes wrong. She's worried and it's cute, but it gets a bit much sometimes.

I decide to take her somewhere for lunch. I don't visit her there often because I know she would feel uncomfortable about it, but she can't hide the fact that she loves showing me off to colleagues. Also, it's been a while since I've been there. And knowing my Tana, she won't eat as regularly as she should. Her assistant has told me before that she isn't shy skipping lunch.

I'm thinking sushi or Mexican. She loves that. I pack everything up, check if I have everything – keys, cellphone, wallet, handbag.

As I'm driving to her office, I think of how many women keep working until they're already 8 months. But my Tana just wouldn't have it. I guess I do understand that she doesn't want the stress of my job at the law firm get to me too much. Sometimes she's so protective that it drives me nuts, but it also always reminds me of just how much she loves me. Granted, she has calmed down over the years, but if anyone just looks at me in a way that she doesn't like, she's fuming. She still has that terrible temper. I dread to think what she will do if one of the boys gets teased later. I always joke that she'll end up in prison for assault one day. I of course hope that she never does, because really, I'd be totally lost without her.

I park my car near the park and decide to walk the last few blocks. I take in the fresh air – as fresh as it gets in New York City. I think back to the first time we came here together, with Glee club for nationals. She was so into Brittany and my heart was breaking. I was upholding the pretence that I wasn't interested in girls that way. I think back to that hotel room, her hand on my back, her voice telling me that she knew how to make me feel better, the surge of arousal that went through my body, how much I was on fire. My answer. I still smile bitterly at the irony. It's fucking ridiculous how long we both kept beating around the bush.

I arrive at her building and greet the porter, Mark Jennings. I know his name from my previous visits and always remember to say hi to him. My brief period as a waitress has really made me see how invisible these people are to most.

I walk to the elevator and hold it open for a man who comes running. He enters, still panting.

"Thanks, miss..."

"Fabray-Lopez," I smile.

"Oh, you must be Angelo's wife?" he says, his breathing steadied. "I thought you were further along with your pregnancy. Congratulations!"

"No, actually, I'm Santana's wife." This guy is probably new – he looks young enough. He really looks like he should be working at some big ass PR firm. He's the all-American boy, the kind every straight girl and gay boy has a crush on in high school.

"Oh, of course. I didn't know..."

I can't help but laugh. "You didn't know Santana was gay or you didn't know she had a pregnant wife?"

"Both," he blushes.

I put my hand on his arm. "It's okay, don't worry. Lopez is a common name and a lot of people work here. Do you know Santana?"

His blush deepens. "Well... um... she's kind of my boss."

Something about him tells me that's not all there is to it. "Let me guess; you asked her out?"

I can see the panic in his eyes. Yep, Santana did make her reputation around here. "It was before I knew she was my boss. She's so young, you know? And I thought I had a no, but I could get a yes."

The elevator door opens and we both exit it at the same time.

"Abbott, you better not be hitting on my wife," a familiar voice snarls. I turn around in surprise, having expected Santana to be in her office.

"Of course not, ms Lopez," he smiles nervously. "As a matter of fact, I have to go. Fosters-"

"Whatever," she dismisses him with a condescending gesture, as if she's wiping crumbs off a table.

I scowl at her. "Is that how you treat all your colleagues?"

Santana rolls her eyes as we walk to her office. She takes my hand and laces our fingers together firmly, sending off a message.

"No, just him. He's a dickhead, only got the job because of his daddy. And he tried to hit on me. He tries to hit on every female with a pulse around here."

"So there are also females without a pulse?" I asked nonchalantly as we turn a corner and enter her office.

She closes the door behind me. "No, of course not, just saying. So," she changes the subject. "To what do I owe the honour of a visit from my ridiculously hot wife?"

"I'm taking you out for lunch," I say smugly. "Does sushi sound okay?"

She frowns. "Just a second."

She picks up her phone. "James... yeah, you can bring it to my office later. Listen, stop whatever it is you're doing and find me the safest sushi restaurant for pregnant women in New York. Low mercury levels. Right. If something happens to the baby, I'll sue you. Okay."

I sigh as I sit down. "You should really consider treating your co-workers with a little bit of respect, Tana."

She looks genuinely surprised. "You're talking to Santana Lopez. I'm not breaking them down every five minutes, this is me showing them respect."

"I know that, but that's because I know you. They don't."

"So what, I have to thank them for doing what they're paid to do."

"It'd be kind. They'll also be more loyal to you." I see her face. "Yes, they already are, but only because they're paid to nod and say yes. You should consider the value of a good relationship with your colleagues. It'll be so much easier to work together."

"Why did you take that Psychology course again at Uni?"

"Tana... please. Just... do it for me, okay?"

I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her, kissing her neck softly, making sure not to leave a mark. I lick her neck all the way up to her ear. One hand moves to her ass, the other one is rubbing her stomach. "I promise you a great time tonight," I whisper before taking her earlobe between my lips.

She shudders. Relents.

"Fine," she groans eventually. Her hand cups my face, our lips meet and I fall into the kiss. Just as she licks my lower lip, requesting acces, her phone rings.

"Joder," she groans and moves away to pick it up. "Santana Lopez," she tries to sound as professional as possible, but fails miserably. Instead, she sounds like she's saying "this better be freaking important..."

"Great, James." I raise my eyebrow at her. She rolls her eyes. "Thanks." Pause. "Don't push it!" she says, nearly horrified, ending the phone call.

"See, that wasn't very hard," I tease her, draping my arms around her neck and pulling her close for another kiss. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

"Me too," she says, staring at my chest.

"Later, Tana. When you get home."

"Somehow, I feel like I might get off early today," she mutters.

We leave her office hand in hand. I can see that many people are packing up for lunch.

"Oh. My. God!" a vagualy familiar voice exclaims. "Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez! You have got to be kidding me!"

We turn around. "Kurt Hummel!" we say simultaneously – the only difference is that I sound excited and Santana sounds exasperated.

He swaggers over to us. I must say that he looks good. He pulls us both in for a hug and I can feel that it takes Santana all she has not to push him away.

"Wow, so you guys are still together?"

"No, I just like to hold hands with a pregnant woman," Santana says mockingly. Kurt knows better than to take it in jest.

"So, a boy or a girl?" he asks, referring to my small bump.

Now Santana's pride kicks in. "Two boys," she grins, wrapping her arm around my waist and pulling me closer, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Actually, we were just going to have sushi. Do you wanna join?" I invite him.

"Babe," Santana mutters under her breath.

"Hm?" I ask her, pulling her away a little. Kurt waits patiently.

"I thought we were going to have sex," she whispers softly in my ear.

"How did you get that idea? I said tonight?"

"I know... but I thought... you know, maybe in the bathroom." She looks like a child hearing that she won't get her favourite cookie after lunch, but has to wait for dinner. She pouts a bit, looking at me with puppy eyes.

"Santana Lopez, tonight. Now we are going to have lunch with Kurt and catch up."

"Fine," she huffs. She turns back to Kurt. "You're in luck, Hummel. The wife seems to want to catch up with you for a reason completely alien to me."

"I'm the wife now?" I fake indignation. We all walk to the elevator.

"I see you haven't changed one bit," Kurt smiles. We enter the elevator. "You know, I think we all thought you'd grow apart in college and move on."

"Move on from Quinn Fabray?" Santana asks in a high-pitched voice. "As if."

"So, how is everyone doing?" I ask as we ride down.

"Well, Blaine and I are still together. He's currently working on a project with Rachel, who is still with Puck. Finn teaches Sex Ed and Biology at McKinley and co-directs New Directions."

Santana bursts out in laughter as she grips her stomach. "Finn? Sex Ed? Seriously?"

Kurt can't help but smile. "I know. The irony isn't lost on anyone. I don't know about the others, actually. Hey!" he then claps his hands. "We should have a reunion with the Glee club!"

"That sounds like a great idea, Kurt," I say. I know Santana thinks otherwise – she's still paranoid that Finn and Puck will come after me – but with a squeeze in the hand I let her know not to voice her opinion just for once.

"Ms Fabray – Lopez ," Mark nods as we exit the elevator again. Santana turns her head abruptly and narrows her eyes.

"How does he know you?" she asks me quietly.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "From my visits and because I said hi on the way up."

"He hasn't tried anything fishy?"

"Santana! Not every guy wants to get into my pants."

"Hmm... whatever. I trust you."

"I only love you, Tana."

"Yeah, Q. I love you too," she says, taking hold of my hand.

"Aww, you two are so cute!" Kurt says happily. "I can't wait to tell Blaine about this."

"Don't you tell anyone I'm cute," Santana says. She seems to have softened a little. "I have a reputation around here."

"Of course," Kurt nods seriously.

"Actually, Kurt, how come you're here?" Santana asks him genuinely.

"I work for William McMahon, your firm represents him."

"William McMahon, fashion designer?" I ask, suddenly interested. "My firm represents him legally!"

"What a small world!" Kurt coos. Santana rolls her eyes. I squeeze her hand affectionately. Nothing much has changed indeed.