Ratings and disclaimers from Chapter One apply.

"How much time before we eat?"

"Twenty minutes, Ms. Sokoll."

"Irena, please."

"Irena."

"What shall we do for twenty minutes? Shall we play—what is it called…ah yes. Twister?"

Jacob took a stab at something. "Brittany could show you some beautiful choreography she's shown us."

And suddenly Brittany looked as if she'd been stabbed. Jacob realized he'd made a mistake as Irena said to Brittany, "You have shown others work you have not shown me? And why not me and our Michael?"

Brittany lowered her head. "It's not like—I'm sorry. I mean, it wasn't like a big thing. Because it was just dumb. I'm sorry."

Irena threw her hands in the air. "First, stop being sorry. Can you think you could do anything to apologize for—ever to me in my life? You? You are my…" she stopped herself. "You are to me as I have said and you will show me what you have created and chosen to show these people before me or you will know what is in my cane, malyshka."

Brittany felt terribly chagrined but she realized her teacher was giving her an out, so she smiled, "Still, I'm sorry, Ms. Sokoll, but, like, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't really stab me. I mean, just sayin'."

Irena rolled her eyes, "Stab you? I would stab myself to the death first. But I am Russian. Your Latina? She thinks she knows from what—a hot head? No—she blows up if the wind hits her wrong and in a minute it is over. People from cold countries are worse, believe me. Slow to anger and then the explosion that lasts. Stop this Ms. Sokoll. I am Irena forever to you as my beloved but not to your future wife or these other children, who need all the respect God or their parents or I can give them. They are hard-headed children. Like bricks—every one of them. Worse even than me and you know this is saying something not to be believed. You will show me what you have created and be forgiven. One assumes there is music."

Brittany nodded, "It's choreography to "I Could Have Danced All Night."

Irena nodded. "Very well. Teach me."

Eric rushed to play the song as Irena and Brittany talked in hushed tones in the middle of the room. They didn't move as they had when Brittany taught Rachel. They made a few cursory movements before Irena said, "Cut the music please."

When Eric did, Irena said, "I am so proud. You are a professional. It is perfect. You know what you can do with me and you may improvise as I may."

"You're a show-off. I know. It's more fun if Rach sings. Seriously."

Irena looked at the people in the room. "Very well. Sing, Rachel. I know I will enjoy to hear it. The future is yours but the past is mine. Brittany is your equal but even today I am your better. I am one of the best dancers of this century and I am 73 years old. Watch and imagine, little girl, that what I had to do to be what I still am was viciously brutal to learn, in a way you truly can't imagine. A voice is a voice and you train it and so it goes. Ballet at my level is the entire body and it is blood."

Eric started the music and Rachel began to sing. Although they'd seen the dance before with Brittany and Rachel, it was literally nothing like what it was with Brittany and Irena.

Eric, Jacob and Rachel immediately understood that Brittany had accommodated Rachel in dance. Rachel gave the song everything she had because she did know that Irena was one of the truly great dancers of a generation. The woman seemed to move as if she were merely air. She danced fluidly and added lightning fast turns and graceful flourishes as she met Brittany and when the girl lifted her, it was if she weighed nothing. Every flourish, every movement was so impossibly magical, tears welled in her Rachel's eyes as she sang. Once again, Brittany had led her to art.

Brittany improvised at the ending, as Rachel sang, "Why all at once…my heart took flight." Brittany lifted the tiny woman completely into the air above her for that line and it truly looked like the woman was soaring into flight. It was only for a few seconds but everyone watching understood the strength and skill it took both dancers to make it look so effortlessly lyrical and beautiful. Brittany gently brought her gently to the ground for the finish as they smiled at each other.

When the song was over, everyone paused before they clapped because they were stunned.

Irena kissed Brittany's cheek. "Your work is superb and you must never hide it from me again. I have danced with the best in the world but you are my favorite, beloved. But at the end. That last lift? Thank you for that but you must never do that without someone as experienced as I am."

"But I lift girls all the time in cheerleading."

"I know this. But that is bouncing and barbarism. I put up with your participation in it because you are the strongest person on the team and are always a base. But never on the stage—never in dance. The feet? The positions? Completely different. Promise me."

"I promise. But I, like, lift San over my head all the time when we're playing and she weighs four pounds more than you."

Santana said. "Oh my God. Britts!"

"Why do you do this thing and if it is sexual, I will call your parents or perhaps the police."

Santana barked, "Eww! Ms. Sokoll! I can't even—it's a game, okay and we only play it every blue moon or something."

Irena tapped her foot. Everyone in the room was riveted and didn't say a word.

"It's Mighty Mouse okay? We play Mighty Mouse. It's not a biggie."

"You will show me this…Mighty Mouse if it involves my Brittany lifting a 97 pound woman over her head."

"Oh. My. God."

Quinn laughed because she'd actually seen it when they'd been children but had no idea they still did it.

Santana looked at Rachel and at the malicious joy in her eyes and then she just had to laugh.

Rachel said, "Sucks to be you, Santana?"

"Totally. And if you repeat this, I will find you."

"But Brittany loves me."

"I'll still punish you. And Q can kiss it. And I don't mean my lips."

"We're waiting, Mighty Mouse."

Santa looked as surly as Rachel had ever seen her, which was saying something.

"San?"

"Britts?"

"You can't have a mean face and be Mighty Mouse."

Santana focused on Brittany, who only looked happy to play a game she loved. "Okay, Britts. Ready to go?"

"Yep."

Santana took three steps back and said, "One, two, three," before she launched herself at Brittany, who easily grabbed her at her hips and lifted her over her head.

Everyone was impressed and although Irena and Eric, as athletes, knew exactly what it was for a woman to be able to lift and hold that weight above her head. They knew, too, that Santana's straight and rigid 'flying' posture with one arm extended and one leg slightly bent were a tribute to fantastic core body strength, as well.

Brittany looked up at her and said, "Mighty Mouse!"

Santana looked down at her. "Brittany! Is that you!"

"Yes, Mighty Mouse! I need your help!"

Santana sang, "Here I come to save the day!"

And then Brittany gently lowered her to the ground and Santana said, "How can I help you, Brittany?"

Brittany smiled at her. "Marry me!"

"I thought you were marrying that Santana bitch?"

"Oh that's right. Sorry, Mighty Mouse. I called you for nothing, then."

"De nada. Keep your woman. I got a chica on the west side."

"Thanks for coming."

"For you? Always."

They smiled at each other and Santana looked at their audience. "So that's it. That's Mighty Mouse."

"Thank you for showing us this, Santana." Irena said. "You will make my love a wonderful spouse. The lift is properly executed. This pleases me. You may continue." She blessedly seemed to know when and how to change a subject, as she said, "And you are a wonderful singer, Rachel."

"Thank you, Ms. Sokoll. But it was a true pleasure to be able to sing for you. It was completely my honor."

Irena smiled, "This is true, but child?"

"Yes?"

"I know you work hard. My Brittany tells me this."

"Yes, I hope I'm working hard enough."

"I suspect so. But listen, please."

"Yes."

"Art is not life. I tell you from one artist to another that this misunderstanding can trip you as you walk through life. I was not meant for love except in the ways I have had it and I am not sorry for that. You are different. You may have love and perhaps have it even now. Remember that art is not life and you can have love and have art. Respect them equally."

Rachel stared into the woman's dark eyes, "Thank you."

"De nada, as my reprobate would say."

"Ms. Sokoll, one of these days, I swear…"

"You will what, Santana?"

"Somethin' bad, I just tellin' ya."

Irena waved a hand, "Look at me. Old as I am, in a battle between us and without even my cane, what would happen?"

Santana stared at her for a long moment and then just said, "Fuck."

"Exactly. But language."

"Sorry. Ms. Sokoll."

"Just so."

She looked at the other adults in the room, "This profanity. A work in progress."

Santana snorted. "Please. The profanity is here. You mean stopping it's a work in progress, Ms. Sokoll."

Irena looked at Santana as someone she loved, as the love of her love, as she always had. "Again. Just so, Santana. When these people turn their backs, I will perhaps throttle you gently enough not to give marks for saying this. The police will never know."

Santana smiled and knew just how to hit back, "I love you, Ms. Sokoll."

"What do you Americans say? You are asking for it?"

Santana smiled and Irena gave the slightest of grins.

Brittany knew everything was completely perfect.

Jacob was thrilled. He was also slightly tipsy. He was a very cheap and easy drunk. A party, dancing, incredibly exciting news, a very frightening guest and two shots of vodka on an empty stomach!

He pulled his braised beef and onions with tomatoes over a bed of Spanish rice and his vegan eggplant-faux Parmesan with onions and red peppers over the same rice.

He'd timed his asparagus and green beans to be ready when everything else was and had made a vegan friendly salad for them all.

As everyone trooped upstairs, he announced, "Everything's ready. The plates are here and salad bowls are here. So let's do it buffet style!"

Eric nodded, rubbed his husband's shoulder and said, "Everything smells great. Can I get you a soda water?"

Jacob took the hint and whispered, "Am I drunk?"

"A little."

Jacob sighed, "Don't let me make—"

"I'd never. I gotcha. You're my guy."

"Thanks, Eric."

"Always, Jake."

Everyone dug into the beef dish except for Rachel and Quinn.

"You know I won't be upset if you prefer the beef, Quinn. I'm sure it's delicious."

"She can't do that, Frodo. She's whipped."

Quinn glowered at Santana, "Respecting and sharing my girlfriend's dietary choices in her presence doesn't spell whipped to me."

Santana laughed and made a cracking whip sound.

"Whatever."

"Ooh. Wow, Q. It's like you're Einstein."

"Wow, S. It's like you're a bitch."

"Quinn!"

"Sorry, mom. That just slipped out."

Brittany frowned, "My stomach is starting to hurt."

Santana said, "Baby, we're teasing."

"Don't tease so hard, San. It makes me feel sad."

Santana took Brittany's hand, "I'm sorry, baby. Look at me. Where are we?"

Brittany blinked, "At Rachel's house."

Santana smiled, "And why are we here having this nice dinner with our friends?"

Brittany smiled, "Because we're engaged."

Santana gripped her hand and said, "Exactly. Quinn and I will be like this forever. I love you and you know I love Quinn and I even semi-tolerate the hobbit."

"No."

"No what?"

"Say it."

They stared at each other for a long few moments but Brittany won, as she usually did.

"Okay. I loves the hobbs too but this is killing me. I'm dying here. And it's my engagement party which is sort of unfair."

Rachel stabbed a piece of eggplant and grinned at Brittany, who beamed back at her, then said to Santana, "Did you know that Brittany and I are nearly ready to launch our submarine from dry-dock? As you know, there have been considerable repairs we've undergone and—"

Santana pointed her fork at Rachel. "I swear to God—no. Just no. Talk about show music, ponies, kittens, unicorns, whatever—but not that effin' submarine."

Irena stared at Santana and asked, "Obviously, I am not understanding. A submarine as in a submersible vessel?"

"Ms. Sokoll, I'm begging you to let it go."

Brittany brightened immediately, "Ms. S-Irena. It's the best game ever probably on planet Earth and Rachel made it up and it's so much fun!"

As Brittany explained it excitedly, everyone at the table had to smile at her.

When she'd finished, Irena nodded, "Ah. I see. And so now you feel your craft is seaworthy?"

"Totally. At least we hope so. We'll see. It's going to be massive when it hits the water!"

"I do not doubt this. Does your vessel have a name?"

Brittany's smile widened, "Totally and you will never in a million years believe it. Rach made it up. It's the USS Lord Subington."

Everyone laughed but something about that hit Santana right in her heart as she looked at Rachel. She gently tapped the table twice and tapped her heart and Rachel returned the gesture.

After dinner, Jacob was thrilled to throw Brittany and Santana out so that he could perform a 'cake reveal.'

It was a two-layer devil's food cake with cream cheese icing, which was what Santana had told Rachel was her favorite. It had Brittany and Santana written on it with small hearts piped around their names.

But when the girls were allowed in the room, Brittany was stunned. She looked at the cake and thought it was really super pretty but there were two figurines on it. A plastic duck and a plastic ninja.

She whispered, "Oh my God. San. Look. It's totally us."

"I know, right? We need a picture!"

As everyone except Rachel and Quinn ate cake, Brittany frowned and said, "I'm sorry you can't eat the cake, Rach."

"It's okay. This dairy-free ice cream is delicious and I'm used to not being able to eat cake."

Brittany smiled at that, "Toni would let you eat cake."

"What?"

"You know, Quinn's sister. Antoinette. Her name's not Marie but she's like the most let them eat cake person like ever, right?"

Everyone looked at each other and Brittany noticed. "Am I wrong?"

Irena said, "No my beloved. As usual, you are always eerily right."