Santana has to process. She always does, but in this moment, she feels a particular urge to do so. It feels almost like a dream, Brittany's bathroom filled with steam from their shower, condensation pooling on the stone counter top. It feels almost like a dream, as she looks up, into Brittany's eyes, as she looks at her girlfriend, the woman who manages to look put together after a full day of surgery, standing before her, wet strands of hair plastered to her face, beads of water on her clavicle sliding down to be absorbed by the dark blue towel tucked above her breast. It feels like a dream, and more than anything, Santana doesn't want to wake up from it.

"What if you change your mind?" She whispers, voice cracking, more than she means it to.

"About you moving in with me?"

"About me. You have a kid, and…if I move in here, and you realize you don't want to be with me…"

"If I thought I was ever not going to want to be with you, I wouldn't have you around Liam at all. I wouldn't trust you to take him overnight, I wouldn't want you to do our family things with us. No matter what you think about yourself, Santana, I'm not changing my mind about you. I love you, I want to be with you, that's all."

"Sometimes I still don't get it. You're you. Dr. Brittany Pierce, world famous plastic surgeon, chick with her life totally together, and I'm just me."

"Santana, you're thirty-two, you own a massive Manhattan apartment, you are well on your way to being a world famous surgeon yourself. I don't think it gets much more together than that."

"You know what I mean."

"I know what you think about yourself. But as much as I respect your feelings, they're your truths, not mine."

"You'd really want that though? Me living here? Being in your space all the time? Having all my weird things I do?"

"You being in my space all the time is precisely the reason I want you to move in. I was going to ask you at Christmas. I'm not asking you because I think I should, or because you're having a really crappy day. I'm asking you because I've been thinking about it for months. I've seen more and more every day that you're the person I want to spend my life with."

"I want to spend my life with you too." Santana looks down, then back up, shivering at the look in those blue eyes. She feels sensitive all over, inside and out, but that constant, that true north, or some other nonsense that romantics would call it, it steadies her. "I love you. More than I ever thought I could love another person. I love you, and the fact that you love me just totally blows my mind."

"You're special, Santana Lopez. You're so, so special."

"You make me feel that way."

"So you'll…"

"Yeah." She nods, biting her lip. "Yeah I'll…"

They get dressed. Santana pulls a pair of jeans from her drawer, and she borrows one of Brittany's old college sweatshirts. There's something about it that makes her feel good, feel hers, and today, that feels even better than ever. She borrows a coat too, since she'd only had that running jacket on when she came, and Brittany slips her hand into Santana's back pocket as they walk to the car.

On the drive to Dr. Abrams, they're quiet. Santana is still turning the events of the day over in her head, but her anger has quieted. It doesn't mean she's over it, but it means she can put it aside. It means she can put Liam to bed with Brittany, that she can read his books in the silly voices he likes, that she can tuck his trains beneath the covers with him. It means that she can sit at the table with her girlfriend, eat a late dinner, that she can drink wine, and sneak kisses while they watch reruns of Saturday Night Live on cable. It means that she can feel normal, because in the whole world, that's all she really wants to be.

"Hey." Dr. Abrams opens the door to his East Midtown apartment, wheeling himself back so they can step inside.

"Hey." Brittany smiles. "Thanks for keeping him a while longer."

"Anytime." He waggles his eyebrows, and Santana flushes right down to her toes. "I don't think we've officially met."

"Oh. Hi, Santana Lopez." She extends her hand, and he takes it.

"Peds, right? I went to med school with Shelby Corcoran. Artie, Artie Abrams."

As she always is, Santana is awkward around strangers, and she thinks that they can't get Liam and get out of there fast enough. He jumps into her arms when he comes running out from the playroom, and she holds him tight, feeling this relief at holding his weight. She hopes he's okay with her moving in with them, she hopes that he's not turning the whole world upside down of a child she cares for so deeply, and God, she hopes she's good enough to be such a big part of his life.

Liam falls asleep in the car. Santana hadn't realized how late it was when they actually got him, and she feels bad that she held everything up. While Brittany runs in to grab their Chinese, Santana stays in the car with him. She turns her head over her shoulder, and she watches him sleep. Percy is tucked under his chin, like he always is, and she shakes her head, smiling. She wonders what it feels like to be a mother. She wonders how Brittany feels when she watches him like this. She wonders how big her heart must swell, if Santana's own swells this much without him belonging to her. She wonders, and she…she hopes, maybe, that someday she'll know.

After Liam is tucked into his bed, they eat dinner. Santana's head spins with all the things ahead of them. Should she sell her apartment? Should she rent it out? Should she leave it vacant, just in case…in case Brittany is wrong about wanting to be with her forever? Does she just move on now? Or is there a waiting period she's supposed to respect after being asked? What does she do with all of her stuff? Does she tell people? How does she tell people? Does she write it in her Christmas cards? Does she just send out a mass text message? An email? Does she have to call everyone individually? She should probably at least tell her mom, and Kurt, and Mercedes…probably Shelby too, since she's her boss. Should she even be here, or should she be at home packing? There's so much to consider, and it makes her head hurt.

They go to bed early. It's probably better that way, because if Santana stays up any longer, her brain might explode. She'll figure it out. She really has no choice but to figure it out. She's moving in with Brittany, that's a good thing. That's the best thing, and when all the headachey stuff is over, it will be so worth it.

"Wakey up! Wakey up!" Santana is roused from sleep by a tiny nose pressing against hers, and when she opens her eyes, there's Liam, right in her face.

"Li?" Brittany's voice calls out from somewhere outside of the bedroom, and Santana tries to get her bearings. "Liam! We were going to let Santana sleep, remember?"

"No, she 'wake now."

"Because you woke her up." Brittany laughs a little, coming into the bedroom, and mouthing a sorry to Santana.

"No, she wakeyed up when she heared me. I no wakey her."

"That's the same thing, buddy." She scoops him up. "C'mon, let's let her get up on her own."

"You wanna wakey on you self?"

"I'm okay." Santana rasps, blinking her eyes to clear them, and reaching for her glasses. "What time is it."

"Tirteens!"

"Thirteen, huh?" She can't help but laugh, pushing herself into. "Must be a cold day in April then."

"I no know April."

"Sorry, Liam, I was making a silly joke. I'm getting up, I promise."

"Baby, do you want to go in your room and find your new boots?"

"For Cripsmas trees?"

"That's right, they're right by the door."

"I get Crispsmas tree boos! I be back." He runs from the room, and Santana runs her hand through the mess of hair that she did nothing with after her shower last night.

"How long have you been up?"

"Two hours." Brittany laughs. "It was definitely my mistake telling him that we were going to get the tree this morning."

"You coulda woke me up."

"I wanted to make coffee first, but then I realized we were out, so ran went to the store, and ended up doing a full food shop."

"At six in the morning?"

"Six-thirty." Brittany corrects.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Occasionally. But now I've got French toast and lots of coffee for you."

"You didn't have to make me breakfast."

"I know." She leans down and kisses Santana slow and soft, making her almost forget about morning breath. "I wanted to."

"I guess then I have to get up." A lopsided smile spreads across her face, and she presses her hand to the side of Brittany's face. "I could get used to this."

"Good thing, isn't it?"

"Did you…uh…tell him?"

"I did." She nods. "He said you could share his room."

"That's it?"

"Things are easy with kids, Santana. I knew it wasn't going to be any kind of question. He loves you, he loves having you here, of course he'd be excited about you living with us."

"Okay." Santana takes a breath. "Okay, good."

The questions from last night don't plague Santana as much while she eats breakfast. Liam climbs up on her lap and insists on "helping" her eat—mostly because he really, really wants to go get his Cripsmas tree—and she shares the whipped cream and strawberries Brittany put on top with him.

Santana expects that they'll go around the corner to the stall set up in front of the Duane Reade, put when Brittany starts walking to her car, she realizes that she couldn't even have imagined they'd drive to Long Island just for a Christmas tree. They'd both worked through Thanksgiving, sharing a cafeteria turkey dinner in between surgeries, so it didn't seem like holidays were a huge thing for Brittany either. But she was wrong. She was definitely wrong, she realizes,as she watches Brittany switch the dial of the radio to Star 99.9's twenty-four/seven Christmas station. She was wrong, she realizes, as Brittany belts out All I Want For Christmas Is You on the Long Island Expressway and Liam bangs his fist on the side of his car seat, giggling. She was wrong, and as she joins in, crooning I don't want a lot for Christmas, I won't even wish for snow she knows that it's probably the best thing she's ever been wrong about.

It's only about twenty-five miles outside of the city, the place Brittany drives to, but Santana isn't sure what to expect. When she was young, her mother ordered a Christmas tree over the phone, and someone came to put it up for them. They had box upon box of fancy glass ornaments, but Santana was always afraid to touch them, always afraid that if she broke one, her father would raise his voice. That Christmas tree wasn't for her. What was hers was the ceramic tree her mother put beside her bed, the one that would cast a glow over her covers, and make her feel like maybe she was allowed to be excited about Christmas, the tree that she still puts up in her office every year. Her mother tried, she really, truly did, and she could never take that much away from her, but with her father, Christmas wasn't this. Christmas wasn't giggling in the backseat of the car, like Liam has been for the whole drive. Christmas wasn't singing carols with the radio or putting out cookies for Santana. Christmas was posing in an itchy dress with her father's heavy hand on her shoulder for photos. Christmas was sitting quietly even with the presents under the tree, because her father had worked an overnight shift on Christmas Eve. Christmas was stuffy parties and her disapproving abuelita. Christmas, like almost every other thing in her life, wasn't really something for children.

"Are you okay?" Brittany slips her gloved fingers between Santana's, murmuring in her ear while Liam waddles up ahead of them. "You have a face."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Santana shakes her head. "Just…never did this before."

"What?"

"Went to get a Christmas tree."

"Oh." She doesn't question it, Brittany never does. She doesn't make Santana feel like a freak, she doesn't do that pitying voice that Santana has long learned to avoid being on the receiving end of. She just simply squeezes her hand harder, then leans in to press a kiss to her temple. "I'm glad you're getting your first one with us then."

"So am I."

"You're not working on Christmas Day, right?"

"I…um…no. Shelby gave me the day, she said I've worked every Christmas since my internship, and I kinda asked for it off this year. I mean…if you've got plans to do stuff with Liam and your parents, that's totally cool, I'll just go up to my mom's, or like…sleep or something."

"Santana." Brittany cups her cheek, the soft lambskin of her glove warm in the cold. "You're really cute."

"Uh…thanks?"

"Of course I want to spend Christmas with you. I want to wake up with you on Christmas morning, and have you there when I wake up Liam to see that Santa came. I want to lounge on the couch with you while my mom insists that I don't help her with the ham, because it's Christmas, and I work too much. I want you to invite your invite your mom for Christmas dinner. I want to drink too much eggnog with you, and kiss you under the mistletoe. I want to give you your gift after everyone goes to sleep, and I want to kiss you all night long. If that's something you want…"

"Okay, really though, Britt, why are you like this?"

"Just telling you this vision I've had of having you with me on a holiday that means a lot to me." She shrugs. "But if it's too much…"

"It's not. I want that too. I didn't want to invite myself, or intrude on your plans, or whatever."

"Don't worry, Dr. Lopez." Brittany smiles, kissing the corner of her mouth, one eye still on Liam. "You're in my plans all the time."

They pick out the tree. Well, Liam picks it out, mostly, but as far as Santana can see, Brittany isn't particular about it. She doesn't seem to care that it's proportionally challenged, or that the tree is missing branches. Liam loves it, and what makes him happy is what's important to her. It stirs something inside of Santana, watching her the tree attendant their choice, watching Liam bounce on his toes and wiggle around with excitement that they're taking his tree home. Brittany is an amazing mother, probably the most amazing one Santana has ever seen, and just to be in the presence of it is something so stunning.

They get home—or, back to Brittany's house, Santana isn't really sure she can call it home yet, not if she hasn't moved in—and Brittany puts the tree in the stand, while Liam, still sleeping from the car, is sprawled out on the couch. Santana doesn't really have any idea how to help, so she pours two glasses of wine, and she watches Brittany string the lights, covering each branch in flickering rainbow light. When she steps back, finally, it looks good, really good. Maybe Santana is biased, maybe she really just has a negative perception of Christmas trees in general, but to her, it's the most beautiful tree she's ever seen, even without any decorations.

When Liam wakes up, they eat dinner, and then Brittany opens the boxes. Where Santana's childhood was full of all the things she couldn't touch, Liam's is nothing like that. The ornaments, save for a few, which Brittany hangs on the highest branches, are plastic, they're homemade, they're plush, even. It's a paradise for Liam, leaning his mostly healed arm on the side of the box, and rifling through with the other hand, squealing in delight as he finds something that interests him. Santana helps too. Brittany insists on it, and truly, it's hard for her to resist the fun they're having.

"Star, Mama?" Liam asks, rubbing his eyes a little, tired from the excitement of his day. "Star now?"

"We can do the star, Li." Brittany nods, pushing the one remaining box of ornaments behind the tree. "Are you getting sleepy?"

"So sleepy." He nods.

"Okay, how about this? What if Santana lifts you up to put the star on top, and then we go up and start getting ready for bed?"

"I sleep here? Wif my tree?"

"Sorry buddy, you know the rules. Beds are for sleeping, right?"

"T'morrow?"

"Still the same rules tomorrow, my love." She shakes her head, leaning down to kiss him. "Let's get the star, and then I'll bring you upstairs."

"No tree in m'roon?"

"No tree in your room. I'm sorry Li, one tree per customer."

"Okey. But I do the star."

Carefully, Brittany takes a gorgeous crystal star out of its box. It's a remnant from another part of her life, Santana thinks, a part of her life where she didn't have ornaments made of styrofoam and cotton balls. The part of her life where she lived in a fancy Boston high rise, where she drank expensive martinis, and probably had the kind of cocktail parties in her house that most doctors have, maybe even like Santana's own parents. But she doesn't preserve the star carefully, like a wistful reminder of her past. No, she lets Liam touch it, his little fingerprints smudging on smooth crystal as he oohs over it excitedly. She lets him pick it up, aided only by Santana's nervous hands. She lets him kiss it, because he's just so excited, and she laughs, glad, Santana thinks, that it serves a better purpose than to be admired from afar by black tied guests, glad that it elicits such an enthusiastic reaction from the person she loves most in the world.

"Go ahead." Brittany mouths to Santana, when she looks over, unsure if she really wants her to put the star atop her Christmas tree.

"Doccer Santana, c'mom!"

"Okay, Sir." She lifts him into her arms, then lets his hand guide the star up, up, until it's nestled in the top branches.

"Wow! Wow! Wow!" He giggles. "Mama! Mama! I do'd it!"

"You did, Li." Brittany moves beside Santana, placing her hand on her lower back, and standing with them to admire. "It looks perfect."

"I's beautyfill!"

Liam leans his head on Santana's shoulder, and she runs her fingers through his hair. He's tired, so tired, and Brittany smiles, watching her murmur into his ear that it's almost bedtime. It's become so natural, the way Santana feels with Liam, but still, watching Brittany watch them gives her the chills.

"Do you want me to carry him up?" She asks, when his eyes begin to slip closed.

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll be right up."

By the time they get to the top of the stairs, Liam is dead weight in Santana's arms. Without jostling him, she pulls back the covers on his bed and nestles him into his pillows. She's sure Brittany will bring Percy up for him, so she covers him with his blanket, and she kisses his forehead.

"Goodnight, Sir."

"Nigh'night Mama." He murmurs in his sleep, jarring Santana. He's asleep, she knows he's asleep. He thinks she's Brittany, but still, the word coming from his lips, directed at her, is a strange sort of sensation. It makes her stomach drop, and her finger tips numb. It's a lot, and she has to shake her head quickly, she has to shake it off, or she might throw up from how nervous it makes her.

"Wow, he went out quick." Brittany walks in, making Santana jump. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah." She squeaks. "Totally."

Furrowing her brow, Brittany leans over Liam, setting Percy down on the pillow and kissing him three times. Santana slips out of the room. She just needs a second. She's being ridiculous, he's a baby, he's sleeping, but she needs to regroup for a second. She needs to just be normal about this, she spent too long working on notbeing crazy about everything related to Brittany to suddenly have a freak out over nothing. She just accepted Brittany's offer to move in, her relationship is moving to a different level, having a meltdown over Brittany's sleeping kid mumbling Mama is entirely unwarranted.

"You're really alright?" Brittany checks again, closing Liam's door, and holding the monitor in her hand. "You look like you saw a ghost in there."

"No, yeah. Totally good."

"You'd tell me if you weren't?"

"I'd tell you if I wasn't." Santana swallows, promising herself that she's fine.

"Okay, good, I'm glad. Do you want to help me with the last box of ornaments?"

"There's another one?"

"There is. I usually wait until after Liam goes to bed for this one." She shrugs a little. "I get kind of emotional, so I'd rather he not see me upset."

"Oh." With a nod, Santana reaches out to squeeze Brittany's hand. "Do you want me to let you do it alone? I mean, I can go home, or, like, stay up here or something."

"No." Brittany shakes her head. "I understand if you don't want to do it with me, but if you want to, I'd like the company."

Santana doesn't have to say anything else. She's not sure what she would say, anyway. She just gives Brittany another nod, and she follows her back down the stairs. When Brittany pushes the last box out from behind the tree, she sees the neat letters printed across the top—definitely not Brittany's scrawling script—CONNOLLY. Carefully, Brittany runs her fingers over the letters, and she takes a deep breath, before opening the box.

"You probably think this is incredibly morbid." Brittany looks over at her. "Christmas was her favorite holiday. I worked a lot, but she would decorate her place, then my parents, and then go over and do mine too. I'd come home from work, and it looked like Santa had come. Mom kept a lot of her Christmas stuff, but I took these."

"I don't really think it's morbid. Honestly I never lost anyone close to me, so I don't know how I would act, but if Christmas was important to her, j think it's cool that you keep her part of it."

"I miss her a lot this time of year." She takes an ornament out of the house, a ceramic figurine of a pregnant woman holding her belly. "She'd have loved that he loved it so much."

"This is the first year he really gets Christmas, right?"

Brittany purses her lips and nods, hanging the figure from a high branch, "I'm glad she got one year with him though. She had his first Christmas outfit picked out before she was even pregnant."

"He looked so cute." Santana accepts the framed photo ornament, looking at Liam's scrunched up baby nose.

"He cried the whole day." Brittany laughs. "It was the only time he ever had a diaper rash, and he was miserable. It was the first time I ever took off work on Christmas though, and you don't even know how grateful I am for that. I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I'd missed it."

"Britt." Slowly, Santana rubs circles on her lower back. "I'm sorry."

"I'm okay." She shakes her head. "It's a lot easier not doing it alone. She would have really liked you."

"Your sister?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're good for me. Because you're really sweet with Liam. Because you sent my mom flowers on her birthday. Because you're exactly the person she would have wanted me to end up with, and you would have been who she'd had picked for—" Brittany pauses, then shakes her head. "For me to be happy."

"I wish I'd had the chance."

"So do I. But Li is so much like her. She had this huge personality, and I can already see so much of her in him."

"I'm glad I get to see that, then."

"Me too. And I'm so incredibly glad you're here with me right now."

"I really have nowhere else I'd rather be." Santana tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and looks back down into the box. "And I'd really like hearing all the stories you have to tell about her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, absolutely."