Things calm down. It's an uneasy sort of feeling for Santana, when all is quiet, like something else must be coming, but she forces herself to accept that maybe it won't. Maybe she's settled now, maybe she's married, her surgery is done, she's legally adopted Liam, she's back at work, and she can take a breath.

It's Friday, after all, and it's date night, the first date night they've had time for since Santana's surgery, and, well, it's the first day that Santana feels like she's healed enough to be intimate with her wife. Needless to say, she's nervous, even though they decided just to stay in and order sushi after Liam goes to bed, rather than go out. On her lunch break yesterday—channeling her old self, from she and Brittany's first date—Santana snuck out of the hospital and went bra shopping. She needed something that fit her and wasn't a sports bra, like she's been wearing for two weeks, and she needed something that made her feel desirable.

Before work, Santana takes extra time in the shower. She shaves, slowly, and careful not to miss a spot. She moisturizers, hoping that her winter dry skin will calm down. She tweezes her eyebrows, and she checks her breasts in the mirror. She feels good, really good, and she's glad it's date night…if she can finish her impossibly exhausting workday.

Santana spends the first part of her morning in the pit. Puckerman is on her service, and by 9:45, she wants to kill him. She thinks that he's physically incapable of not leering at her, of not pissing her off with his snide comments toward patients, or about pediatrics in general. He hates being on her service, that's clear, but Santana knows, without a shadow of doubt, that she hates having him even more.

When her eleven o'clock fundoplication arrives, Santana yanks Puckerman away from flirting with a nurse, and refuses to make eye contact with him in the elevator up to her floor. She glares at him as they walk down the hall, and when the arrive at pre-op, she lets him have it outside the door, warning him that he's not to say a single word to the patient or his family, that he's here to assist, and to learn, not to open his goddamn mouth. It probably doesn't matter, he'll probably do whatever he wants, but if Santana doesn't say it, she'll lose her damn mind.

"Amir, Giancarlo, good morning." Santana smiles at the two men in the waiting room, then looks down at the sleeping one-year old in his father Giancarlo's arms. "And you, Julian, who might not like me very much this time, after I have to wake you up, an extra good morning."

"Dr. Lopez, we are so glad the day is here." Amir presses the back of his hand to his forehead. "Last night, I got into Julian's crib with him, just so I could prop him up on my body."

"I told him to bring him into bed with us." Giancarlo pinches his husband's arm playfully. "But someone insisted on being extra cute."

"Well," Santana laughs, shooting a glance at Puckerman, who is stealing a glance at his phone in his pocket. "Good news for all of you is that you won't have to do that anymore to help with his reflux, you'll see the results really quickly with this."

"Oh, we trust you, we went to five different surgeons before you, and we know you're the best." Amir nods emphatically, punctuating his words. "We only want the best hands on Julian."

"I can assure you that will be the case. And I'll have Dr. Rose, who you met last time, and Dr. Puckerman in the OR with me. Dr. Puckerman," She narrowly avoids snapping at him, "Meet Mr. Khan, and Mr. Corcetti."

—

"Oh, hey." Puckerman reaches out to shake their hands. "Noah Puckerman. And yeah, Lopez is totally the best."

"This hospital is the best." Santana corrects, gritting her teeth. She wants to poke Puckerman's spine to make him stand up straight, but instead, she digs her nails into the palms of her own hands. "He'll be well taken care of."

"I believe you entirely." Amir nods, and Santana gets down on one knee to look at the sleeping Julian.

"He looks like my son, sleeping with his hand on his face like that." She smiles, picturing Liam, and honestly, since she adopted him legally, just wanting to say the words my son as often as possible.

"How old is he?" Giancarlo asks. "And did he have reflux?"

"He'll be four in a few months. I don't believe he had reflux though, but I'll ask my wife. I didn't meet him until just before his third birthday." She smiles a little, remembering. "His mother and I were colleagues, and Liam took a liking to me and invited me to his birthday party."

"Well that obviously worked out well." He laughs, then turns to Amir. "Told you she was one of us."

"Quit being rude." Amir rolls his eyes, and gives Santana an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about him."

"It's totally fine." She laughs, at ease with them. "Can I ask you to wake him up? I'd say you could keep him down, but I do need to see that he's alert before we give him the pre-surgical sedative."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Amir ruffles Julian's hair. "Julesy, sleepy boy, it's time to wake up now."

There's a certain sort of fondness Santana feels toward little boys now, one she hadn't experienced until she had one of her own, and when Julian wakes up, he takes quickly to her. He only fusses a little as she holds the breathing mask to his face, letting him go limp again, but still awake, before his fathers kiss him goodbye, and transport moves him to the operating room.

While Tina—she'd specifically requested Tina as the anesthesiologist on this one—puts Julian under, Santana scrubs in. She hates how irritated she is in Puckerman's presence, but she ignores him as he scrubs at the sink beside her. Once her Thomas scrubcap is on her head, and her gloves are snapped tightly on, she goes into the operating room, waiting for Puckerman to catch up.

"Alright." She talks to no one in particular, over the sound of her Stevie Nicks on the sound system. "Let's get this stomach fixed up."

"I still don't really get it." Puckerman chimes in, leaning over as Santana makes her first incision. "Isn't he kinda young for this? Don't you usually give a kid Prilosec or something?"

"Wow." Santana rolls her eyes. "You know what, I never thought of that. Tina, wake him up, I'm going to run over to Walgreens to grab some Tums."

"Alright, alright, I'm just saying, I've never heard of a fundoplication on a one-year-old."

"Which means you obviously pay very little attention to the American Board of Pediatrics. This is the tenth I've done in six months, and no, Julian doesn't just have a little heartburn. He's suffered from vomiting, trouble breathing, and pneumonia as a result of his GER. The procedure is more common in children than adults, and it's ten times harder to perform. So, I suggest if you have nothing meaningful to add to my operating room, you keep your mouth shut."

"Jeeze Lopez, chill. Are you on your period or something?"

"Puckerman." Santana clenches her teeth, not tearing her focus away from her patient, but turning her voice to ice. "I have thrown you off my service once, and I'm not afraid to do it again. First of all, it's DoctorLopez, and second, is this a habit of yours, asking your attendings about their menstrual cycles?"

"If you're going to throw me off your service, can you send me to plastics again?"

"Oh, so that's what this is about? You think you act like this and you get to skip out on Peds? You think my specialty is a joke? You think I hand out lollipops and balloons all day and sprinkle pixie dust around this floor? Have you ever assisted on a fundoplication on a general rotation? Look at your fist."

"Huh?"

"I said look at your fist, Dr. Puckerman." She orders, and though she doesn't look at him, she knows that he does. "Now look at Julian's fist. I know for a fact you have never acted this was in Dr. Hummel's operating room, and yet, here I am, doing the same procedure on a stomach half the size. You think my specialty is some kind of joke, and yet it took me years longer to become an attending surgeon in this hospital than had I chosen another specialty. I've done more surgeries than you could imagine, so no, I'm not going to send you down to reward you with sticking you on Dr. Pierce's service, you're going to shut your damn mouth, and you're going to watch me fix this little boy's stomach. If you can't do that, then you can go up to Chief Sylvester's office and tell her that you want to know whether I have my period or not. See what she thinks of that."

Santana bites her tongue, and she goes back to work on her procedure. Tina meets her eyes across the table, and gives her a silent clap, making Santana especially glad that she'd requested her today. The surgery takes Santana a little longer than it normally would, but Puckerman remains silent, attentive even, as she works carefully on this little boy's stomach.

When she's finished, Giancarlo and Amir hug her, and she leaves to go take a shower. This was the longest surgery she'd performed since she's been back to work, and she's not sure if the sheen of sweat on her body is because of that, or because of her confrontation with Puckerman, but either way, she feels an urge to get clean. She wants to put on her new lingerie, and a nice outfit, she wants to feel sexy for her wife tonight. She wants to feel sexy for herself.

Brittany already has Liam when Santana finishes, and when she sees her son, Santana squeezes him tightly, glad that she can after a few weeks of having to avoid it. He giggles and kisses her, and she breathes him in, so glad they decided to stay in for date night tonight, so glad that she doesn't have to leave this face with a sitter.

They sit with Liam while he eats his macaroni and cheese. He talks endlessly about his day, and Brittany squeezes Santana's hand on the table. Even though she's only known him part of his life, Santana feels like he's growing up so fast. too fast, and it continues to churn the thoughts in her head that she wants to start trying to have a baby soon. She wants to experience this with Brittany, she wants to witness everything, not just in pictures and stories, and she wants to do it before it's too late.

While Brittany calls and orders sushi, Santana lights candles and takes out a bottle of wine. There's a certain jitteriness to Santana's actions, and even as they eat, she finds herself unable to calm down. Maybe it's the day she's had, or maybe it's the anticipation of finally being intimate with her wife again, she can't be sure.

"You're quiet tonight, Santana." Brittany notices, sliding a piece of sashimi onto her plate.

"Sorry, long day at work, coupled with Puckerman on my service, which makes it doubly long."

"That bad again?"

"Perpetually. I mean, it's fine, I shut him down today and then kicked ass on that fundoplication, so." Santana lets out a long breath and pops a spicy tuna roll into her mouth. "Anyway, how was your day?"

"Good, nothing unusual. I'm glad we're both off this weekend though."

"Seriously. Now that I'm healed enough to be a person, maybe we can finally take Liam to the Transit Museum."

"That would be the best day of his life. We never have to take him to Disney World, his own personal Disney is right here in this city."

"Maybe we should do it tomorrow then. It's supposed to ice at night, but we should be able to sneak in a few hours."

"That sounds really good." Brittany puts her hand over Santana's. "I'm so happy you're my wife."

"Britt…"

"I love doing things as a family so much, Santana, really. I love that you're his Mommy Noodle, and seeing how much you love him."

"I do too. I can tell you that I never thought going to the Transit Museum would be the best Saturday of the month, but…"

"Being a mother is weird, isn't it?"

"Seriously so weird. But, good weird."

"Yeah, the best kind of weird."

They make a plan while they finish dinner, and then they end up bringing their wine and candles up to the bedroom. Again, Santana gets that nervous fluttering in her stomach, and she lays on her side, watching Brittany flip through the channels to put a movie on. She knows that Brittany won't initiate anything tonight, she knows that she's waiting for Santana to be ready to initiate sex post-surgery, and so Santana swallows hard watching her wife change out of her work clothes and into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

When Brittany lays on the bed beside her, Santana trails her fingers up her side, feeling the soft fabric of her shirt between her fingertips. In return, Brittany plays with Santana's hair, stroking it, twirling it, kissing the top of it. Quickly, Santana sucks in air, and she looks up, staring into Brittany's eyes, before she takes her wife's hand and slides it up her shirt, guiding it to cup her lace covered breast.

"Kiss me, Britt." Santana murmurs, arching her back so get the full effect of Brittany's hand on her breast.

"Always." She presses her lips to Santana's, and swings her leg over so she's lying partially on top of her. "Good?"

"So good."

"Is this a new bra?"

"You can tell it's new just by feeling it?" Santana laughs a little, and Brittany kisses her chin.

"Maybe. I happen to be an expert in your underwear."

"Mmm. Going to pursue another certification?"

"I'm not sure I'd want to go before the Board for this one." Brittany hums into the hollow of Santana's throat, and she drops her head back, reveling in the feeling of Brittany's lips on her. The playfulness, the laughing, the kisses, this is exactly what she needs to feel comfortable right now. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Tell me if anything is too much. I don't want to hurt you."

"'S okay. I feel good."

"We too. I always feel good when I'm touching you. But—"

"I promise I'll tell you." Santana meets Brittany's eyes. "I don't want to talk about surgical incisions, but I promise, they're healed enough for this. And I feel good about it."

"That's all I need to hear." Brittany brings her other hand under Santana's shirt, continuing to kiss her. "Can I take this off?"

"Mhmm, please."

Tenderly, so tenderly, Brittany slides Santana's shirt up over her head. This isn't the first time Brittany has seen her breasts since the surgery, she's seen them several times, checking them for Santana, since it's more convenient than going back up to Boston, but still, it's the first time she's seen them like this. It's the first time she's seen them as Santana's wife, not as a medical professional. Santana watches as Brittany takes them in, peeking out from over the cups of her bra. They're smaller, they're noticeably smaller, and there's still some lingering purple bruises, and they're certainly still scarred, but Santana feels Brittany suck in a breath, Santana stares as Brittany's eyes darken a little. Santana feels beautiful, as Brittany lowers her head to kiss the very tops of them.

"You're gorgeous." She murmurs into Santana's skin. "Still so gorgeous."

"So are you." Santana cups Brittany's cheeks, pulling her back into a kiss. "Thank you for loving me."

"I'll always love you, Santana, always, always."

"I know." She blinks back tears in her eyes. "Me too."

Brittany pulls her own shirt over her head, and unclaps her own bra, before she turns her attention back to Santana. She slowly removes her bra, and Santana watches her place tender kisses on the scarred skin. Her heart leaps, amazed that this is real, amazed with herself that she had the surgery, amazed that she has a wife who adores her so much. Spurred by that love, Santana rolls on top of Brittany, and kisses her for along while, before sliding down, down, down.

She leans up on her elbows to look into Brittany's eyes, and she takes the drawstring of her pants between her fingers. Brittany presses her palm to the side of Santana's face, and every time she finds herself in this position, she's astounded by the reverence Brittany shows her. She's astounded by the depth of the love in her eyes.

Santana makes love to Brittany slowly. There's no desperation in her motions as she slides Brittany's pants down her legs, as spreads them apart, as she laves attention on the insides of her smiles. There's no desperation as she wets her lips and licks through Brittany's center. It's slow, but it's intense, and Santana never loses that eye contact with her wife. Not as she pleasures her, not as Brittany's thighs quiver around her ears, not as her sex twitches and jumps.

She just wants to show her how much she adores her. She wants to take her time, so enjoy the intimacy that she missed so greatly. When she finally comes, Santana reaches up and grabs her hand, she squeezes it tightly, and she takes in every pant and gasp, every second of the sight before her. They're married, they have sex regularly, but sometimes, it just feels more intimate than others. Tonight is one of those nights. Tonight is the kind of night where Santana crawls back up Brittany's body and she squeezes her so tightly, she kisses her lips over and over, and she feels so complete.

"What?" Santana asks, feeling Brittany look so deeply into her eyes.

"I'm just looking at you for awhile, before I get my strength back."

"Mmm, no, stay. I'm good like this. Just want to lay with you now." She rests her head on Brittany's chest, runs her fingers up and down her side and is quiet for a long time.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Honestly?"

"No." Brittany teases. "I want you to lie to me."

"Never." Santana laughs, kissing Brittany's chin. "Mostly how I was worried I'd regret having surgery, and that I'd feel uncomfortable in my own body afterward, but I don't. Now that I'm not just laying in bed, or laying around the house, I've gone to work, and held my kid, and made love to my wife, I can be totally sure when I say that this is more comfortable than I can ever remember feeling."

"I can see it in your face, Santana, and I love that. It's been such a good few weeks"

"It's been a good year already. And I just, I don't know, I have a feeling it's going to get even better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Definitely."