Author's Note: Just a little bit of filler, I hope you enjoy! And thank you thank you thank you for all your reviews!

It was 7:55 on the first Monday after Thanksgiving, and Brittany had Santana pressed against the lockers, as usual for a Monday morning. Or, really, any morning.

"You know, you'd think this newlywed bliss thing would have worn off by now," Quinn said, not bothering to look up at the girls, "you've been out now for like, four months. We get it. You both like girls. You both like each other. You want to make out. Do you really have to do it in front of the rest of us."

"You know, you'd think your commentary would have worn off by now, Q," Santana said. "We get it. You don't like us. You don't like lesbians…" She was stopped any further commentary when she saw her brother quickly dart around the corner, clearly picking a different route to class. Santana's eyes fell.

"What?" Quinn asked, confused that they had actually stopped making out.

"My brother…" Santana said, trailing off at the end. Brittany gave Santana's hand a tight squeeze.

"Sany told her family she was gay over Thanksgiving break. Daniel didn't take it so well."

"I'm sorry," Quinn looked down, feeling bad that she'd been giving her a hard time moments earlier. "Although, frankly I don't understand how he didn't know already…"

"I know," Santana said, scrunching up her face, "my mom apparently has already read all the books on raising gay teenagers…no one else even had a reaction…" Quinn raised her eyebrow.

"Well, you are really gay, Santana." The three girls walked to class.

Coach Sylvester had cancelled Cheerios practice that afternoon, so Santana felt like she could actually enjoy Glee today, instead of worrying about the terrible Cheerios' practice that usually awaited them. And by enjoy Glee, what she really meant was enjoy sitting next to Brittany for the next hour. Apparently, however, Mr. Schuester wasn't going to let her enjoy staring at her girlfriend for an hour. He walked in late, as usual, and laid his briefcase on the piano.

"Okay, guys! Sectionals are on Saturday!" There were little whoops and howls from their classmates. "So, I want to split us up so we can work on our individual numbers. Mike, I'd like you to run the choreography you worked on for the group number in here, and Brittany and Santana, I'd like us to go to the auditorium to work on your duet." Santana scowled. Now she was going to have to work all through glee practice. Brittany and Santana collected their bags and followed Mr. Schuester to the auditorium and they got on stage while he sat in the middle of the audience.

"So?" Santana asked, after they'd been standing on the stage for a bit and Mr. Schuester shuffled through some papers.

"Take a seat, girls," Mr. Schuester said, gesturing for them to take a seat on the edge of the stage. They sat close together, Santana taking Brittany's hand in her own.

"Is this like Chorus Line, Mr. Schue?" Brittany asked. Santana looked at her, forehead scrunched in confusion. She swears, Brittany is going to give her wrinkles by the time she turns twenty. "Are you going to make us tell you the hidden reasons we became performers before you give us the role? Because I'm really not comfortable singing about the first time I had sex…" Mr. Schuester furrowed his brow, also confused by Brittany, yet again. It was amazing the amount of information this girl retained while drowning so much else out.

"No, Brittany, I just wanted to talk to you about the number. I was talking to Miss Pillsbury," Santana raised her eyebrow, not trying very hard to conceal her smirk, "and I just wanted to make sure this number didn't hit a little too close to home. I know that we haven't talked that much about your relationship, but I know your families will be there, and I don't want to do anything that makes them, or you, uncomfortable."

"It's fine, Mr. Schue," Santana said. "I told my parents about us over the weekend, and apparently they don't care at all. They already seemed to know…" Santana shrugged, "and the plan is to tell Brittany's parents right after Sectionals." Mr. Schuester still looked skeptical. "We really want to do this." Brittany nodded.

"Okay then," Mr. Schuester said, "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't putting you in an uncomfortable position. Take your places then!"

An hour later, Mr. Schuester walked a very tired Brittany and Santana out towards Santana's car.

"You know, if you girls need to talk to me about anything, you know you can come to me, right?"

"Of course, Mr. Schue," Brittany said.

"Okay, have a good night, girls." Mr. Schue walked off towards his beat up car and Santana and Brittany headed back to Santana's house. They walked in to the familiar smell of Maria's cooking.

"Hey, mama!" Santana said as she walked in.

"Hey, Maria!" Brittany said. As they threw their belongings on the kitchen table, Daniel jumped off the counter and stormed out of the room. Brittany and Santana just stood there in silence.

"B, wait here for a second, I'm going to go talk to Dan." Santana stormed off to talk to her brother.

"Brittany, why don't you drop your stuff off in Santana's room and get changed, and then you can come help me finish up dinner, okay?" She saw that Brittany was on the verge of tears. "Come here, mija," she pulled Brittany close to her. "You know it will be okay, right?" Brittany silently nodded into her embrace. "Now just hurry and get changed because these enchiladas don't cook themselves and I need your help!" Brittany grabbed their things and headed up to Santana's room.

"What is your problem, Dan!" Santana yelled storming into her younger brother's room.

"What's your problem, Santana? You don't see me barging into your room!"

"You have been nothing but a grade-A dick since I told everyone about me and Brittany! I knew you were a lot of things, little brother, but I never thought you were a homophobe…"

"I'm not a homophobe, Santana! I just don't want to talk about it!"

"Well, we are talking about it! Right now…I'm not going to tiptoe around you in my own home, and you know that Santana Lopez doesn't tiptoe around anyone in school!"
"That's right, Lopez's don't tiptoe around anyone," Daniel sneered at his sister. "No one fucked with Christian Lopez, and everyone loved Carlos Lopez, and everyone is fucking afraid of Santana Lopez, who cares what your little dyke drama does to Daniel Lopez."

"What are you talking about, Daniel?" Santana's voice softened.

"Do you think I want to hear the things the guys on the football team say about you and Brittany? Do you think I want to be the kid-brother of all the bad-ass Lopez's, not able to stand up for myself, not able to stand up for my sister when people are talking shit about her? At least then it was just some douchebags talking shit…now it's real, and I can't stand up for you, San, do you get that? I'm just your dumb kid-brother!"

"No one asked for you to stand up for me Daniel! I can stand up for myself!"

"I have to stand up for you, Santana, don't you get that? You're my sister! I can't stand there and listen to those dick's say the shit they say about you…"

"Then stand up for me, Dan…" Santana's voice was barely above a whisper. She took a seat in his desk chair. "That's what makes us the 'bad-ass Lopez's', as you say. We don't take shit from anyone, and we don't tell anyone how we should live our lives."

"I can't…I'm the youngest. Everyone looks at me like I'm just a baby…"

"You're still a Lopez. I guarantee you threaten one guy who looks at us the wrong way and they'll be too frightened of the wrath of our family to do anything ever again…" Daniel looked at the ground. "Look at me Dan," he looked up at his big sister, "I'm tiny. I'm 5'4" and I weigh like 105 lbs. Yet I can strike the fear of God in 300 lbs football players. All because I know I'm a Lopez and I know that I'm better than all those bitches at McKinley." Daniel just nodded. "So…you're not mad at me because I'm gay?" Daniel laughed.

"No…sometimes I guess I wondered if the things people said about you and Brittany were true…I guess I just hoped they weren't." Santana's face fell. "You're my big sister, the one who always took care of me, who protected me when Carlos and Christian were pushing me around…I think I always kind of thought that Carlos and Christian were a little team, and you and I were a little team. And I can't stand the things people said about you being a…you know…and I guess I always separated you loving Brittany with you actually being…you know…because you loving Brittany was always a good thing, but…gay…is a bad thing." Santana didn't know what to say to her little brother. "I know gay's not bad, Santana," he said quickly, looking at his feet. "If mama could hear me right now she would kill me…I think it's just gonna take some getting used to…" Santana nodded, and pulled her brother into a tight hug.

"Don't let some dumbass jocks push you around, Dan," Santana said, squeezing her brother. "Remember, you're a Lopez. No one fucks with us." He grinned. "Now let's go downstairs, I bet you by now mama has forced Brittany to help her cook, and we know how that always turns out…" She put her hand around her brother and they walked downstairs. "Also, two things lil' bro," Santana said, stopping them outside the kitchen, "you do realize that you can't catch gay just from saying the word, right?" Santana said, smirking, as Daniel rolled his eyes. She placed both her hands on his shoulders,"and also, if I ever hear you use the word dyke again, I will cut you. Because I am a Lopez. And I don't fuck around." They both broke out into boisterous laughter and entered the kitchen to make sure Brittany hadn't burned the house down yet.

It turned out that years of helping Santana's mother in the kitchen had rubbed off a bit on Brittany. When they walked in, Brittany was making the enchilada sauce on her own, while she told Maria about "chorus lining" them that afternoon and how she thought that Take Me or Leave Me would be much better if she actually got to dress up like a tiger during the number. Maria just sighed. Sometimes she would never understand Brittany.

Santana's father was heaping his third helping of enchiladas on his plate. Santana wondered where all the food went; she figured she was lucky that she got his genes in this case.

"Maria, these enchiladas are delicious!" He put a forkful in his mouth, "there's something different in the sauce…"

"Brittany made it," Maria said, smiling over at Brittany, who was beaming.

"I think Brittany might be giving you a run for your money in the sauce department, mama…" Santana said. Daniel cracked an invisible whip at her. Santana couldn't help but smile; things were going to eventually be okay with her and her brother. "Can Britt and I get started on our homework?' Santana looked up at her mother. "We have a Spanish test tomorrow." Maria nodded. Santana grabbed Brittany's hand as they got up from the table.

"I would never take your money, Maria," Brittany said, leaning over Maria as she passed her. "I don't know why Santana said that." Santana rolled her eyes, trying to pull Brittany towards the stairs as quickly as possible. She'd gotten halfway up when she heard her mother.

"Mija!" Maria yelled. "Don't forget, door open!" Santana dragged her feet the rest of the way up the stairs.

"San, your mom said door open," Brittany said as she laid down on Santana's bed on her stomach.

"The door is open, Britt."

"I think she meant more than like a crack that barely a grasshopper could get through. Although I guess you'd save a lot of your jewelry that way…" Santana just shrugged, ignoring the last part of Brittany's sentence.

They actually studied Spanish, maybe for the first time ever. Well, they actually studied Spanish after they were pulled out of their make out session when Maria walked by and lightly kicked the door wide open, saying, "actually open, Santana!"

Around eleven, Santana eased the door until it was open just a crack. Brittany immediately leaned in to make out, but Santana stopped her. Brittany frowned.

"I actually wanted to just talk for a second." Brittany's frown deepened. "Nothing bad, Britt, I'm just really really nervous about telling your parents and wanted to go over the plan again."

"I think it will be fine, San. We go to Sectionals, we kill the song, we win, we have sex on the bus ride home, my parents tell us we did an amazing job, we go to Breadstix to celebrate, and then we tell them."

"I know the plan, Britt. I just wanted to talk more specifically about what we're going to say."

"Well, what did you say to your parents?"

"My dad said 'pass the mashed potatoes' and I responded 'I'm gay'. I don't think that will go over so well in your house…"

"True. Well, I was thinking that I could start by just telling them that I am bisexual. Then I would tell them that we're dating…I don't know. You know I don't like planning things, Sany."

"I know, B." She kissed Brittany lightly on the lips as her door swung open again.

"Santana. Door. Open." Maria said, standing in the doorway of her daughter's room. "It's time for bed. Are you staying here tonight, Brittany?" Brittany nodded. "Okay, the guest bed is all made up, I'll be back in five minutes to say goodnight to you both."

"Is that like parent code or something for 'I'll be back in five minutes to make sure you're in separate beds'? Because you haven't come in to say goodnight since we were like six, mama. Are you going to read us bedtime stories too?"

"Do you blame me for not coming in to say goodnight, Santana? Like I said, I've known for ages…if I didn't know any better, I'd think you thought we had soundproof walls," Maria smirked as Brittany and Santana turned bright red. "5 minutes, ladies." She walked off, mentally patting herself on the back. One thing she was sure of, she certainly knew how to get her kids to stop talking.

Santana walked Brittany across the hall to the guest room.

"Night, B," Santana kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Night, San," Brittany kissed her back. And Santana kissed her again. Then all of a sudden Santana was pinned against the doorframe by Brittany's kissing.

"Wait, wait," Santana said, pulling away. "My mom is going to be back any moment." Santana leaned up to whisper in Brittany's ear. "Sneak back over in thirty minutes?" Brittany nodded, smirking.

Forty-five minutes had passed, and Santana was still alone in her room. Brittany must have fallen asleep. Santana got up, opened her door, looked both ways down the hallway and when it seemed the coast was clear she tiptoed across the hall. Brittany was curled in a little ball in the corner of the bed. Santana slipped in behind her and wrapped her arms tightly around her girlfriend. A sleeping Brittany let out a contented sigh. Santana buried her head in Brittany's hair and drifted off to sleep.