"This is horrible." Rachel grimaced when she saw the scene on television. "I can't believe people had the stomach to watch this."

"Horrible, but brilliant and necessary." Santana took a sip of the wine.

"Imagine if we lived in that society? Santana and I would be dead and Rachel would be a handmaid." Kurt was also drinking wine. He seemed to be the most engaged in the story that the trio watched on their TV.

"I can't even imagine." Rachel's grimace was even greater. "I think I would rather kill myself than be raped with an agenda set by these horrible men."

"This is why handmaids are constantly monitored. The fear of mutilation and the various other punishments makes them submit. Most of the women kidnapped by this horrible society were either feminist or simply independent. It's the most dangerous type for a patriarchal society." Kurt analyzed, still drinking his wine.

"The worst thing is that this dystopian and religious society is super inefficient to solve the problem of infertility." Santana turned to Rachel and Kurt. "The guys are so full of bullshit that they use a false religious pretext and deny all reproduction science. Did the world suddenly become stupid and forget that babies are made in vitro since the 1970s? Look at Berry!" Santana took another sip of wine. "Or maybe Berry is responsible for them thinking that in vitro babies are somewhat wrong." She started to laugh on her own, as Rachel and Kurt weren't amused by the joke.

"I see your point..." Kurt pondered. "About the denial of science, although we still have no clues of why fertility treatment methods have failed in the series. What about the other places? What about Canada?"

"If I had to reorganize a society with a reproductive crisis, maybe I would create a kind of caste based on fertility. I would test all men and women and establish three groups: those who are fertile, those who may have the possibility through some type of intervention and those who are infertile. Hence, I would encourage fertile women to choose their partners from the same caste and guarantee certain privileges, such as discounts on income tax, concessions on the acquisition of real estate. I would give money for families to have more children... we already see this kind of politic in some countries. Things like that." Santana explained, finishing her glass of wine and serving herself with a little more.

"This is awful, Santana." Rachel grunted.

"But it makes sense." Santana tried to make her point.

"What if a fertile woman is lesbian? Or a fertile man is gay?" Kurt asked.

"They could be free to be whatever they want. The gay man can donate the sperm and the lesbian can agree to have children through insemination. It's not such a difficult thing to negotiate. It was a matter to draft some regulatory laws."

"But what if an infertile man fell in love with a fertile woman?" It was Rachel's turn to ask.

"The same thing. They could be together, as long as she agreed to have a child by insemination."

"It still sounds sick to me." Kurt disapproved of the idea.

"Better than allowing shitty men to have the right to rape women as they please. And with the wife still having to witness everything in the name of our Lord! This is sick! In addition, my system wouldn't totally remove the right to choose. It would only create conditions through the possibility of extinction of the species."

"Still, the women are screwed." Rachel considered. "Because your society would still take away their full right to their own body if you condition that they can do what they want, or stay with whoever they want, as long as they give birth. You just shift the religious argument and put it on Darwin."

"Yes, I can see your point. But we're working here with a hypothetical situation. We live in a reality of overpopulation that behaves like termites in a barn. It's a picture in which I believe that the less people screwing the world the better. But if it were the other way around, and if there was no baby factory, as in Star Wars, actions would have to be taken, and my system wouldn't be all bad. It would certainly be much better and more human than this handmaids' world."

"You say that because you aren't going to have to get pregnant and temporarily interrupt your career." Rachel countered. "Your monthly appendix distorts your entire perspective."

"Do you think it doesn't annoy me every day? Do you really think I'm indifferent because of that? The fact I'm a transmorph woman makes me less woman?" Santana scolded. "Do you really think I feel comfortable knowing that we are being forced to plan a pregnancy because of a contract to save our family asses? And do you really think you'll be alone when that happens?"

"Honestly, I have my doubts, Santana. Will I be alone?"

"Of course not! I won't be apologizing for being who I am. I didn't choose to be a female sex-shifter with scrotal fertility. Yeah! This is the technical term they use to define what I am. Horrible, isn't it? People think it's just my penis showing up, that I become a man and start thinking like a man. You know it's not true. You know that I feel horrible pain every month during the transformations, that I suffer a lot of prejudice, I suffered bullying at school, which is why I became cheerleader and developed all my attitude on top of that. But I'm not going to victimize myself, Rachel. I won't shirk responsibility either. When you get pregnant, I will be by your side all the time, in joy and sadness. Just don't push me away. And when our kid is born, I want to be there to share everything with you."

Santana and Rachel stared at each other while Kurt, who was between the two, felt a little out of place.

Because Kurt is a homosexual with effeminate features, people automatically labeled him a morph or a potential transgender. That a vagina appeared between his legs once a month. Unlike what happens with women, in which the vagina is closed on transformation with the descent of the scrotum sacs and the clitoris basically grows and becomes a penis, with men the scrotum sacs shrink and the vagina opens. The penis remains in the same place and the same size. The school bullies harassed Kurt in this regard. They threatened to debut the supposed vagina he would have. It was bullying about something that people thought of him. But Kurt wasn't a sex-shifter. He was just a regular gay guy, and this was also a problem for certain people. That was why Kurt could understand Santana's pain in that sense much better than Rachel.

"I know it's not easy for either. I understand the both sides. It's not easy and it will never be easy. But know that you can count on Uncle Kurt. In fact, I propose to make a pact." Kurt held out his pinkie to both. "Don't be shy, put your beautiful pinkie here." Kurt smiled briefly when Santana and Rachel answered the call. "No matter what happens, we are all going to have our careers even if it's between diapers, bibs, pacifiers and baby food. We will survive everything and we will show our biographers the glorious picture of our happy family with a beautiful baby with a bronze skin color like Santana's and Rachel's wonderful almond eyes. And we will tell our biographers that we have never been so blessed, because that will be the truth."

Rachel nodded and was immediately moved.

"Rachel, we're going to be okay." Santana got up to sit next to her wife and comfort her. "Don't you have everything planned out, as usual? I have told you more than a million times that you are the one who will tell when this should be happen. So, there is nothing to fear. We have always been careful."

"We already screw our pact, Santana. Don't you remember that night, when we came back from celebrating Kurt's Nyada acceptance?"

"What?"

"We had sex without protection that night. Now I think I'm pregnant."

Santana almost went into a catatonic state, unable to fester any reaction with the impact of the news. Kurt was also shocked. But it was when he noticed: he and Santana drank half a bottle of wine together, while Rachel didn't take a sip of the drink. Wine is Rachel's favorite booze.

Rachel started to cry and Santana hugged her.

"We gonna be okay." Santana managed to say despite her shock.

…

Santana was beside Kurt in the waiting room at the doctor's office. Nervousness was on edge. Santana's stomach was burning with anxiety, and she had sleeplessness the day before. In short, Santana wasn't in her best shape. She wore ripped jeans, a sweater and the old converse. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and were the only thing that seemed to be in place. Santana kept thinking of the fateful moment as a loop. She and Rachel were having a great night after celebrating Kurt's acceptance for Nyada. The trio went to a gay club, drank a little too much, while Kurt stayed in Manhattan to spend a night with a rich guy and NYU student, Rachel and Santana had a particular party in the loft. They had sex a lot that day: the first round on the kitchen table, then two more rounds on their bed. Santana forgot to use a condom that night, not even Rachel remembered. Her wife had wake up first the next day to make breakfast for both of them. But if they didn't use protection at all, why Rachel forgot to take the pill in the next day? Perhaps the fact that both weren't totally sober contributed to these relapses. It happened three weeks earlier and Rachel... then Santana realized that Rachel didn't menstruate. Her wife always boasted that she was like a rolex.

Rachel didn't want to come in with Santana or anyone else. She had taken a pharmacy exam the day before they were marathoning Handmaide's Tale. Rachel was so terrified that she did the test in the bathroom of the pharmacy, because she knew that bring the box at home, knowing that her wife was a great detective, she would be forced to have a conversation that wasn't prepared. The test was positive, and instead of talking to Santana, Rachel was in a horrible mood. That motivated the strong debate they had that day.

"Do you want something?" Kurt asked.

"No, thank you." Santana looked like she was going to explode in anxiety. A tear escaped and she tried in vain to hide it from her friend. "This shouldn't be happening now. It shouldn't be like that. I should be there with her. Why didn't she let me in? I'm not a mean girlfriend... we're married."

"Rachel is just nervous."

"She doesn't trust me, Kurt. That's the truth! Now that she can be pregnant, what we going to do?"

"Calm down. These tests often give false alarms."

"I hope so, Kurt. Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do if this pregnancy comes sooner than we thought. I don't know if I'm ready. I thought it would be something for the end of the college, that I would have the chance to sing in a bar or in a band, I don't know... I never thought it would happen so soon. I'm 19 and… oh my god… Rachel's birthday is next month!"

Santana stood up when Rachel appeared in the lobby. She was anxious for an answer, which came with a slap on her face. The problem is that Santana was unable to interpret the reaction. The slap was: "you bastard, you got me pregnant", or, "you bastard, never scare me again"?

"Rachel?" Kurt approached cautiously. "What was the result?"

"I'm Pregnant." She turned to Santana, pointing a finger at her wife. "And it's all your fault!"

…

Santana watched Rachel doing and redoing the goal charts she kept in a notebook. She preferred to leave her wife alone with her own thoughts while Santana herself started to do the other important stuff: the math. The Berries and the Lopezes were both on strangled budgets because of college fees and lawyers. No one was in a position to give up another cent. Santana had a health plan, which was paid by her father. Rachel didn't, which was a big problem due to the prenatal costs. Santana worked on the CCNY's cafeteria for some small privileges about getting food, and she had taken a weekend job at a lesbian bar. It's not a regular job, by the way, and Rachel hated it. But it's something she do once a while to pay some personal stuffs. Of course, she still had Roselita's money. Santana did a little more math and came to the conclusion that there was no other way out than to sell Rachel's car. With the money, they would be able to pay the expenses with prenatal care and buy at least a crib and the first diapers.

Santana knew that Kurt was a wealthy guy, at least, that his father was. Kurt was nobly trying to live on his own money to prove to his father that he could support himself, but everyone knew that all he had to do was shout at Burt Hummel to put a significant amount of money in his bank account. Kurt was the emergency asset that Santana had up her sleeve, and that would be used if a loan was really needed. She ran a hand through her hair and regretted: how could that be? The unborn child was a millionaire. Its birth would empower Rachel and Santana to manage all blocked properties. Selling two or three of them would pay off all of the parents' debts, pay taxes, and still have formidable assets. It would be a relief, but nobody wanted that to happen anytime soon, and because of a slip.

"OK. I think I managed to come up with a reasonable plan." Rachel announced to Santana and Kurt. "My daughter is borning in early August."

"Daughter?" Santana asked.

"Of course, I'm sure in my soul it will be a girl. Anyway, she is borning in August, so I will be able to finish my first year in Nyada, I'll give a break at the fall term and resume my studies and my career in January. It will be perfect. My daughter will be four months old, and we can make a rotation scheme. You stay in the morning with her, and I stay in the afternoon or vice versa. Kurt can help us when we have some extra occasional activity. Right Kurt?"

"Sure."

"See? It's decided!"

"In the meantime, we can do some gigs this Christmas." Kurt suggested. "I research some temporally jobs that we can do for a few days this Christmas."

"Can we perform?" Rachel asked.

"I believe so."

Santana looked out the loft window and saw the snow fall. It would be the first Christmas she would spend away from her parents, and with her new family. It was a new life, in fact. Kurt had bought a Christmas tree and some gifts. Santana thought about leaving the house a little and doing the same. A little consumption would not hurt anyone. She took a bus and went to the Brooklin shopping center, started to see some windows. She found a pair of beautiful jewelry earrings and bought them for Rachel. She saw a scarf that was so Kurt also bought it. Then Santana went to a baby store. She didn't resist and went inside. Santana walked among the products, saw future mothers with huge bellies and soon imagined that in a few months that would be Rachel's reality.

"Can I help you?" The saleswoman asked.

"Hi, I was just looking. In fact, I don't really know what to buy."

"Who is the gift for?"

"My future kid I think... Actually, I don't know the gender yet."

"Oh, congratulations." The woman smiled.

"Thanks."

"But tell me, what style are you looking for?"

"I don't know..."

"How do you think your child will be?"

"Oh, judging by its parents, it can be genious and, who knows, be a tomboy like I was!"

"In that case, I think I have a perfect gift. It's neutral gender, so you'll avoid taking risks."

Santana left the store with some baby bodies, a little shoe and a guitar-shaped teether. Santana was sure of one thing, no matter how it was, kid child would grow up in a musical environment. It was perfect.

…

Kurt was already familiar with Nyada's building. Santana wasn't. Nyada was a college with a great structure, but it had no apparent beauty that drew particular attention. There were corridors, wings, halls and different floors that separated students from each area. There were classrooms for theoretical classes, others with strict sound insulation for music classes, others with more moderate insulation for theater, singing and dance classes. There were editing studios for film students, a specialized library, and others facilities. There was an auditorium on the ground floor, two amphitheaters in the indoor facilities, and the Nyada theater that was elsewhere. But the most interesting presentation space was the perfect acoustic of the round room on the building's terrace. It was where Professor Carmen Tibideaux taught advanced classes.

Santana was somewhat jealous of Rachel that she was dedicating herself to what she really likes. Someone in the family needed to be happy, right? Family? It's still strange to think of Rachel as her family. The fact that Rachel was her wife was very clear in her mind, and the golden ring on her left ring finger didn't let her forget. But family? After a few months living with Rachel and Kurt, yes, Santana started to think in those terms.

The CCNY student and Kurt entered the perfect acoustic round room for the winter festival, which featured the newbies. The event, in essence, served as a kind of audition so that novices could be accepted into advanced classes by Nyada's most renowned professors, who were privileged to work only with the students they wished. There was an event like that for musicians, for dancers, for filmmakers. That night was dedicated to actors/singers, and judges were professors Carmen Tibideaux and Neil Graison. Rachel would do anything to be chosen by Carmen.

The auditorium was beautiful. There were only 100 seats in total. Theoretically, Rachel would only have the right to call one person, but she talked to a friend who was gay and who was single in the city. Rachel promised to introduce Kurt and to go out after the event to celebrate or to cry. There was no reserved seat, and the chairs at the front were unoccupied, but Santana and Kurt opted for the middle chairs. Nothing but a little modesty.

The professors came in and one of them explained the official purpose of the winter festival: to introduce the new talents that stood out in the fall term in Nyada. Rachel was the third to perform from six students selected for that night. As usual, Rachel internalized the Barbra Streisand inside her and sang with technical perfection. Santana and Kurt didn't hold themselves back and gave a standing ovation to the performance that they considered superb. Rachel smiled broadly, thanked the audience and left the stage, to sit in the chairs next the "stage", where her colleagues were. The diva waited for the other three colleagues to do the show. All six were excellent, and Rachel thought that everyone could be invited to the advanced classes.

The six were asked to return for the number together. Santana and Kurt were impressed. They were both very good, and Santana was one of the best soloists in the Lima's choir alongside Rachel and Mercedes. But those six showed that Nyada was another level. Carmen got up to make the final speech. She praised the students, and kept special praise for Amanda Larson and Benjamin Scott, who were invited to attend advanced singing lessons.

At the end of spring term, students from different courses had to come together to make a final presentation that showed the ability of each to work and organize themselves with different talents. There was a freshman show, the sophomore one, the junior's and, finally, the grand final with the veterans, which also served as a graduation presentation. Carmen Tibideaux's students were invariably the great soloists of these shows. Without being able to join the advanced class, Rachel would hardly have that chance.

Rachel applauded, smiled and left the stage. She waited the professor talk to Amanda and Benjamin, at the moment when she was probably inviting students to transfer to the more advanced singing class. Tibideaux was leaving after that, but Rachel caught up with her.

"Professor."

"Yes, mrs. Berry."

"Thank you for the opportunity to perform at the festival. I know it's a privilege to be chosen as a highlight..."

"Get to the point, mrs. Berry. I have no time to lose." Carmen interrupted the opening speech.

"Why wasn't I asked to attend your advanced class?"

The professor didn't hesitate. With the posture that showed Rachel who controlled the situation and expression unchanged, she took the student seriously.

"You have an impressive technique. Much better than miss Larson, for example. Your audition for this school, when you sang Pink Floyd, was the best I've seen in years: simple, straight to the point, bold. I watched your progress here, as I do with all the students that I see as promising. If you six were here, it was because I selected you with full knowledge of the facts."

"So?"

"The personality you showed at your audition was lost throughout the semester. I invited you to this festival in the hope that you would show something different on stage. But today, Berry, you made a perfect performance by imitating Barbra Streisand. If I wanted to hear someone like Barbra Streisand, I would either go to the Streisand's concert herself, or put a record on. You need to find your own voice. Only when you do that, you will be able to attend my advanced classes. For now, you need to focus on the basics. Now excuse me."

Carmen's words hurt Rachel in her soul simply because they told the truth. Carmen wasn't arrogant like Cassandra, and she wasn't presumptuous like Shelby could be sometimes. She just put a mirror in front of the student. In the middle of that corridor, dressed in a long dress, Rachel started to cry.

"Did you hear any necessary truths, David Schwimmer?" Cassandra July approached. "I was looking forward to seeing that. Who knows, now you may lower your nose and convince yourself that you are just a pretentious girl?"

"Rachel!" Santana approached her wife. "Are you okay?" The CCNY student stared at the professor, whom she knew from the terrible reports of what Rachel called torturous dance classes. "Is there a problem, ma'am."

"So you have a wife?" Cassandra said pointing to the ring on Santana's finger. "Rachel Berry! Wow! And here I am thinking that you married a stupid high school jock." She smiled cynically. "Now I see that you married your forbidden gay love in the city of rednecks where you came from. How romantic. Let me guess: while Rachel lives her dream of studying in Nyada, you're the one paying the bills with your job as a waitress?"

"I study at CCNY." Santana replied dryly.

"Oh, are you talking about that hole of all those who were turned down in NYU and Columbia? At least you are looking for some future. Schwimmer, I have to admit that you aren't as cliché as I imagined. Congratulations. Now you could ask your wife lend you some of her sex appeal. You urgently need it. In fact..." Cassandra looked at Santana with hungry eyes without shame. "How did someone like her have someone like you?"

"Maybe it's because I prefer women with real talent over sly bitches." Santana replied, took Rachel's hand and pulled her wife away from Cassandra, in a very protective posture. "Good night miss Bitch."

The couple entered the first bathroom they saw. Santana was soon taking a handful of sheets of paper. She wrapped it up and poured some cold water before wiping Rachel's tearful face.

"So is that the bitch that love to torment you? For the first time you didn't overdo the description. This professor of yours is superhot, but totally indigestible."

"It wasn't she who left me like this." Rachel wiped her face and tried to control her emotions. "It was Carmen who told me the truth. That I may not have what it takes for this career."

"Seriously? But didn't you say that only the best students perform at this festival?"

"Yes. That's the idea."

"And you didn't sing here for charity. You were selected because you deserved it, right?"

"I think so."

"Rachel, you were amazing. If your professor doesn't want you in her advanced classes, it's her lose."

"No Santana, what she said was the truth. I need to let go of Barbra Streisand and start looking for the real Rachel Berry."

"Don't worry. I'll help you work on it." Santana hugged and kissed her wife.

They were interrupted by a young woman who came into the bathroom and mumbled something like "make a room". They left the bathroom, with Rachel a little better, and found Kurt and Adam, Rachel's gay colleague who gave up the ticket. It was time to drown the sorrows. Rachel was in no mood to go out, but Kurt insisted that they should go to a karaoke bar, as he was sorely missing a stage and an audience. Furthermore, it was Rachel's birthday, and they promised to celebrate. Adam suggested a bar traditionally frequented by students from Nyada and other performing arts colleges. Rachel had never been there. She was delighted with the decor, the structure of the bar and the people who seemed interesting.

"Let's sign up to sing!" Kurt was excited.

"I won't." Rachel was inhibited after the criticism she received.

"Come on, Berry." Santana insisted. "What fun is it to perform at a snobbish festival when the real audience is here?"

"How can you say that, Santana?"

"These people vibrate, dance, have fun while you sing. Much better than that audience in that auditorium that applauded with absurd politeness. I was afraid to move in the chair, so you have an idea!"

"It was kind of snobbish, wasn't it?"

"We do a killer duet."

Santana smiled and signed up for the waiting list, taking the opportunity to select a song that she knew fit her and Rachel's vocals well. No Barbra Streisand, no Broadway. Just old pop music. Santana offered an ice tea to her wife. Rachel didn't know if it was a good idea because black tea usually had caffeine, but she remembered that the doctor didn't forbid her to drink coffee, as long as it was moderately, like one small cup a day. The couple went to the dance floor with their and friends. The MC called the pair. Santana and Rachel went up on the small stage holding hands and started to sing Let Your Heart Hold Fast, with Santana basically doing a second voice, elevating Rachel.

"To believe I walk alone is a lie that I've been told", Rachel sang using the privileged extension of the voice.

"So let your heart hold fast for this soon shall pass, like the high tide takes the sand" Rachel and Santana sang together with unparalleled harmony.

Music was a hymn to love capable of facing obstacles. An indie rock icon that quickly won over the audience. And it was chosen by Santana because she was a fan of the series How I Met Your Mother. In the end, Santana was applauding her wife along with the audience. Santana took advantage of Rachel's distraction, and whispered something to the musicians who were making the selection. It was a jam of a song that Santana loved. More than that, she knew that Rachel knew the lyrics and was sure that she would snatch the audience.

"Did you like it?" Santana asked the audience.

"Yeah." She heard the response of the talented young people who were enjoying the night, the drinks, the life.

"So Rachel Berry is going to sing one more."

Santana went to the front of the small stage and Rachel, taken by the moment, soon recognized the song and started singing.

"What I feel, I can't say but my love is there for you anytime of the day…"

If George Harrison were alive, even he would applaud Rachel's standing interpretation. Rachel was having fun, sang to perfection and danced on the small stage. There came a point where the focus was all on Santana. The scene was a cliché. Rachel finished the presentation, bowed to the audience, and then threw herself into her wife's arms. Santana whirled her around and ended the moment with a wet kiss on the mouth, one that made it very clear that the night would finish between four walls. Or, in the case of the loft, two walls, a drywall and a curtain.

What Rachel didn't realize was that from the mezzanine of the bar, watching everything from a privileged view was Cassandra July. She had a little smile on the corner of her face. Perhaps David Schwimmer wasn't as dull as she thought. There was a pulsating talent there that just needed a push to take the right path.