A/N: I think this will be known as "The Chapter That Pissed Everyone Off". I've noticed a recurring theme in some of my reviews and PMs... And it's now being addressed. I think I made a mistake declaring a second character. Over all, this story is (and has always been) about Santana's journey... Everyone else is just a supporting player. That's not to say certain people aren't more important, and won't REMAIN important... And here we're going to deal with that. My goal for this fic was to be as realistic as possible. And I see this being an actual issue, and something that would eventually have to be talked about. It's going to play out well, but that's just it... It needs to play out.

The baby swing Kurt had bought them was now Santana's saving grace, along with the rocking chair Finn's grandfather had made her. Her troublesome four month old was past the point of just blissfully falling asleep wherever whenever with little fuss, and now insisted on being rocked, and hard. It was not what Santana considered fun, and she was having her nightly battle with Karlie, determined to get her into bed before nine so that Santana had some time to shower and then cram for her history test that she desperately needed to pass.

The baby had a different idea, wailing and refusing any sort of comfort Santana could provide. She had now settled on the rocking chair, rocking back and forth in a rhythmic pace, patting Karlie firmly on her bottom and crooning to her softly.

It wasn't working, and Santana was just about ready to lay her down and just leave her in the crib. That creeping feeling of overwhelming frustration was working it's way up, and Santana just wouldn't deal with this anymore. How hard was it to fall asleep if you were already obviously tired?

"I'm just letting you know this right now: you're fine. You've been fed, burped, you have a clean diaper on, you're not sick, you're fine. So I'm going to put you in your bed, and I'm leaving your ass there. I love you but I'm kind of tired of listening to you bitch about nothing," Santana said, her tone one of easy explaination. She carried the still crying baby upstairs, though her wails lessened with each stair. She laid the baby down in her crib, and after a quick kiss to her forehead and a brief goodnight, Santana left the bedroom and shut the door, admittedly a little relieved to have dealt with that.

As soon as she did though, her mother was calling up the stairs to her. Sighing, Santana wandered into the kitchen where Marty was waiting for her, gesturing to the small mountain of bottles and pump fastenings stacked in one side of the sink.

"Santana, come on now. I need this cleaned up before you go to bed, understand?" she said as she moved to put the clean dishes in the dishwasher away. "You know I don't ask you to do much around here, but you need to keep up on Karlie's things. Some days this house looks more like Babies R Us than a home."

"Sorry, Mama," Santana said wearily, setting to her task immediately. In the past she might have tried to get out of something like this, but she was past arguing, knowing it would only extend the length of the chore. Besides these bottles needed to head back over to Finn's house for the upcoming week, and the pump things had to be cleaned every night anyway; she'd just forgotten.

Santana's mom sighed as she put the last dish away, and she came to stand behind her daughter, a hand on her shoulder.

"You're doing a good job, sweetheart. Your father and I are proud of you."

"Random, but thanks," Santana said, unwilling to accept a compliment that easily. Her mom had raised three children, and she was only raising one. She didn't see the reason for congratulations. Her mother just laughed, squeezing her shoulder before letting her hand drop.

"Your dad's going out to another conference this weekend, and I'll be going with. We'll be gone a week or so."

"I'm used to you being gone; it's fine," Santana assured, her ears straining for the faint crying of a baby. There were none, to her relief. Karlie must have finally fallen asleep.

"I know. I wish we were here more, but you seem to be handling everything well," Marty went on, her statement lilting more like a question.

"As well as could be expected," Santana agreed. She really needed to get into the shower, and her patience was already worn from earlier. She didn't have time for a heart-to-heart with her mom at the moment. Marty seemed to sense this, kissing her on the back of her head.

"There's my girl. If you need anything just give a shout."

With that her mother padded out of the kitchen, leaving Santana to hurry through her job, her thoughts swirling. Give a shout, right. While her mother wasn't unhelpful, she wasn't present enough to really impact how Santana did things... Most of taking care of Karlie she had to learn on her own or by asking Carole, who was always prepared with sound advice. Whenever Santana asked her own mother, she was pushy, to the point that Santana always regretted asking. Her dad had become involved in a rather large case, and her mother seemed to accompany him almost everywhere. Not that they weren't ever home, they just weren't around enough to suit Santana. So she'd learned to get by without much of their assistance.

By the time she got everything washed and dried, the clock read nine, and she rushed upstairs to the bathroom, quickly showering. She wanted to get straight into studying, but her phone went off as soon as she had settled on the couch and cracked open her book.

BrittyBritt, 9:32 - San I hate history. Can you help me?

Santana sighed. It wasn't like this was an unusual occurance; Brittany often needed her help with homework and things like that. Punching out a quick reply, Santana decided it would probably be easier for her to learn it if she was helping her best friend out. But it was already late.

Me, 9:33 - Sure, Britt. Sleepover?

She wasn't surprised when Brittany answered affirmitavely, and the blonde was over in less than ten minutes, already dressed in her pjs and lugging her backpack and clothes for the next day in a duffel. The two girls set up study camp right there in the livingroom, and armed with their books, highlighters, and two bowls of chocolate ice cream, they set to memorizing facts about the Civil War.

Eventually it got past midnight, and Santana could barely keep her eyes open, her vision bleary. She looked up from her study sheet to her friend, and couldn't help but laugh. Brittany was obviously past caring, laying on the floor with her book over her face.

"Hey, Britts, you ready for bed?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Brittany said, sitting up and letting her book slide to the floor. "I don't think osmosis is working too well for me anyway."

They ambled their way upstairs, and Santana didn't even need to shh Brittany, the blonde falling into her bed wordlessly. Santana went to Karlie's crib to check on her, and as she was expecting, the baby was passed out, a fist curled close to her face. After saying a silent thank you that she was out and looked like she would be for some time, Santana turned out the light, crawling into bed beside Brittany.

Without thinking anything of it, Santana responded when Brittany moved closer, slipping her arms around her waist. Santana sighed wearily, her eyes fluttering closed. She felt Brittany shift, rolling in her arms to come to face her.

"San?" Brittany whispered, her face mere inches from Santana's.

"Mmm?"

Brittany didn't say anything further though, and to her surprise, Santana felt her lips on hers. In her haze Santana excused it as a goodnight kiss, something that wasn't uncommon with Brittany, but when she felt the blonde's hands cup her face and the kiss wasn't ending, she jerked her head back in shock. She was certainly awake now, staring into calm blue eyes with her confused brown ones.

"Wh-what? Brittany, what was that?" she asked, unable to reason in her own head what Brittany was thinking.

"It's been a long time since we had lady kisses, I just thought..." Brittany trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing. Santana could tell she wasn't expecting to be denied. "The timing didn't feel right?"

"Brittany, I'm with Finn. I have a baby... I can't have lady kisses with you anymore..."

"But you love lady kisses," Brittany countered, though Santana could tell she wasn't arguing, just trying to understand.

"I used to, yeah... But I can't now. It wouldn't be right to do that to Finn."

"What if Finn doesn't care?" Brittany pressed, and Santana had to fight to not just go along with her idea right then and there.

She missed being intimate, whether it was Finn or Brittany, she missed it. Not that she and Finn had any sort of sexy times, but they were intimate in other ways. Their time spent together with Karlie, and even alone, carried a lot of emotional significance to her. She wondered if that type of intimacy outweighed the kind she'd always had with Brittany; even outside of lady kisses, they were constantly touching and being close. That was just as important to her as her and Finn's intimacy.

"Finn would care, Britt," Santana said, gentle but firm. She didn't want to lead Brittany on. The blonde frowned, her lips in a pout as she toyed with the loose end of Santana's ponytail. Realizing what she was doing, she drew her hand away quickly, putting her hand between her knees.

"Sorry..."

"No, Britt, we just can't make out or..." Brittany nodded, knowing what Santana meant without her having to actually say the words out loud.

"We can still cuddle?"

"I don't ever not want to cuddle with you," Santana said reassuringly, taking Brittany's hand in her own and squeezing it. "I don't want anything to change besides the other stuff we talked about."

"Finn doesn't mind that you like cuddling me?"

"I don't think so..." Santana said slowly, her brows furrowing. Not that she ever really thought about it like that. That facet of her and Brittany's relationship had always been well established. She couldn't say she really cared if Finn had an issue with that or not.

"But if he did, would we have to stop?"

At this Santana's blood ran cold. She'd never thought about the fact that eventually her touchy-feely ways with Brittany might have to taper off... That would kill her. Brittany was her best friend, and she loved her... She loved Finn, too, she knew that. How could she love them both, her affection for them so different yet so similiar? She wracked her brain for a precursor, something that would tell her what she could or couldn't do, what each Finn and Brittany might be okay with... And nothing came up. This was entirely new and foreign to her, and it was kind of scary.

"San?" Brittany questioned, biting her lip. Santana let out a ragged breath and turned over, her hand letting go of Brittany's as she faced away.

"It's late, Britt. We have school tomorrow... Let's talk about this later."

"No. I want to talk about this now," Brittany said, and her roughness of her voice let Santana know she was holding back tears.

"Brittany, I love you, okay?" Santana said softly, but she didn't turn back to face her friend. "But I love Finn, in a different way. And I love Karlie, and I don't want to mess her up by doing something stupid. Let me think this through, and I promise, we'll talk about it."

"Do you have to talk to Finn?"

"I do, yeah," Santana admitted, though she had no idea where that conversation was going to lead. She didn't want to hurt Finn, and she didn't want to not be with Finn... She loved him. She needed him, even. But he needed to know her inner turmoil. Honesty was their "thing", and even though if Brittany hadn't brought it up, she probably never wouldhave thought of it, now that she was aware of this issue, he had to know. He could help her; any time she'd let him in, he'd been able to understand her and listen to her, and provide sound feedback.

"I kind of hate Finn," Brittany said angrily, and Santana could feel her turn over, and if she knew Brittany at all, her arms were crossed over her chest. Santana sighed, flipping over and taking Brittany in her arms. Sighing deeply, she rested her chin on her friend's shoulder.

"No, you don't. This was bound to happen eventually, Brittany. We'll talk through it, or whatever it is high functioning, capable adults are supposed to do, and everything will be fine."

"Happily ever after?"

"I hope, yeah."

A/N 2: Now I don't expect people to not be mad. I'm aware most everyone is going to be unhappy. But at the same time, go back and read the story. This vein did not come out of nowhere. Have a little faith, and I promise I'm not going to make you wait long at all for a resolution. You can't please everybody, and I'm not trying to. As I said above, my goal was to be realistic. Fantana shippers, do not lose heart. I'm not planning on doing away with Fantana (at all!). But this is something they need to discuss, and will be explored as sensitively as it can be.