A/N: Sorry about the delay, I've just been really crunched for time. This is the penultimate chapter, I hope you all enjoy and thank you anyone who is still bothering to read this!

Things had been tense at the Pierce's. Caroline wasn't speaking to Mitch, Alexis and Brittany weren't speaking to Mitch, and Gracie was blissfully unaware of the circumstances that had caused such tension in her household, but knew that something seemed off.

"Mom!" Brittany yelled, holding on to the banister at the bottom of the stairs. "We have to go!" She heard no response from her mother. "Mom!"

"Brittany!" Her father yelled from his office. "Can you please stop all that yelling. What's the emergency?" He asked, entering the room where Grace was busy coloring and Alexis was busy half-watching TV and filing her nails.

"Brittany's shopping for prom dresses with mom so she looks pretty for Tana," Grace sing-songed over.

"Well can you go shopping for prom dresses a little more quietly?" Her father said in a gruff voice. Alexis looked up, surprised at their father's tone.

"I'm just excited, dad." Brittany said, softly.

"Yeah, dad, calm down," Alexis said, seeing the hurt in Brittany's eyes. Grace just looked between the three, utterly confused.

"I just don't understand why everything has to be a production these days?"

"Why what has to be a production?" Brittany asked, daring finally to make eye contact with her father. He didn't respond. "You're not yelling because of the yelling, you're yelling because you hate Santana," Brittany deadpanned. Alexis eyes widened at her sister's bluntness.

"This has nothing to do with her, Brittany. It has to do with your unnecessary yelling."

"You're using my yelling as an excuse to remind me that I'm not supposed to talk about being bisexual, that I'm not supposed to talk about dating a girl."

"You're putting words in my mouth, Brittany."

"No, I'm not, Dad." Brittany said, raising her voice. "You can't even say her name anymore. Every time we talk about what I'm going to do after graduation, about me being a dancer in LA, not once have you mentioned Santana's name."

"I don't see why she's relevant to your decision."

"Because I'm dating her and she'll be in LA too. Because, yes, it's the best city to be in to break into non-classical dancing professionally, but, I am also, obviously, I want to be with the person whom I'm in love with. Because you've always been so excited to take pictures, and be part of me going to prom, and this year you are yelling because I'm excited."

"I don't know what you want from me, Brittany. She comes to the house, doesn't she? I have gone to everything her parents invite us to. I haven't said anything negative about it in months."

"That's because you haven't said anything about it! Because you call my relationship with Santana it! IT like it's some weird, unspeakable, object that can't be named! I'm just the dirty little secret that you refuse to discuss. Like I'm Voldemort, dad. You make me feel like my relationship is Voldemort." Mr. Pierce's forehead furrowed in confusion and Alexis fought back a snicker.

"That's unfair, Brittany. You know this is hard on me. I think I've shown that I tolerate the relationship you're choosing to be in right now." Alexis didn't think it was possible, but her eyes actually got wider. Brittany looked like she'd been slapped in the face.

"I don't want to be tolerated. This is not like the time I brought Charity, the first, home and you tolerated that annoying mewing she'd make at night. This is not something unpleasant that you can handle as long as it doesn't get too bad. This is my life, dad. I want to be loved. I want the person I love to be welcome in our home just the way Alexis' boyfriend of the month is welcome. No offense, Lex." Alexis put both hands up in the air.

"None taken, Britt."

"Tell mom I'll wait for her in the car." Brittany said to Alexis, storming out of the house.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Santana said sheepishly, dangling her legs off of the bed in Tina's room.

"Are you joking, Satan? We had to have pre-prom dress trying on. It's tradition." Mercedes said.

"I know…but I'm not like," Santana rolled her eyes, "like, the nicest to be around. Or whatever."

"Don't even act like we're not friends," Mercedes said, rolling her eyes at Santana. "We've done four duets in our time in glee club, you know we've spent enough time together outside of school."

"I wrote a song with you, Santana."

"Hey, Trouty Mouth was all my brain child." Santana said. Tina laughed.

"Just don't pull this whole, everybody hates me shit while you're here. We know you love us. We kind of tolerate you too." Mercedes said, laughing. "Now go put on your dress, girl!" Just then the doorbell rang. Tina jumped up to get it.

"Fucking lesbians," was all Santana heard as Kurt walked through the door. "You know, it used to be easy to do these fashion referrals, but now I have to run between houses so Brittany and Santana don't see one another's dresses…" he huffed, pulling his camera out of his satchel. "It's tiring, you know?"

"I could have asked Danielle to look at my dress you know," Santana said, leaning her head out of Tina's bathroom. "I don't mean to divide the girls up!" Kurt looked at his camera confused.

"What? Just put your damn dress on, Santana."

"Don't start with her today," Mercedes whispered over to Kurt. "She's in one of her 'everyone hates me, I'm a bitchy lesbian' moods." Kurt silently nodded his understanding.

"Blaine will be here soon…" Kurt said, checking his phone. "He's usually good about distracting her…I will never understand their friendship…"

Alexis quietly knocked on the door of her father's study. He had started his own firm when the girls were still in elementary school in an attempt to spend more time at home, but it actually had resulted in more time locked in one room in house. Alexis could count on one hand the number of times she'd been inside her father's home office.

"Come in!" She slowly creaked the door open. "What's going on, honey?" Her father asked, rubbing his temples and briefly taking his eyes off of the papers scattered on his desk.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, daddy."

"Okay," he said, nervously, taking off his glasses and making eye contact with his middle child. He gestured for her to sit down across from him."

"It's about Britt."

"I've told you, and your mother, and Brittany. I'm trying my best. I'm coming around. It's just hard to have it thrown in my face so often."

"I know, daddy. But, you and I have never really talked about it. I thought, maybe it would help to see it from my perspective."

"How so?"

"Brittany and I are close, daddy. We're so close and age and we go to school together so I see a different side of her than you do, maybe? I've been on the Cheerios with her and Santana for two years. Because things obviously aren't working right now and I thought, I just thought maybe I could help you to understand…" Alexis trailed off, her voice cracking in frustration.

"I do understand, Alexis. Brittany is dating Santana. Santana is a perfectly lovely young woman. It's fine, I just don't want to talk about it all the time."

"That's just it, dad!" Alexis exclaimed, cutting her father off. "It's not fine! You don't understand anything!" Her father scoffed and rolled his eyes. "See! It's that exact reaction. You didn't see how fucked up they were when they were apart last year, how Brittany dated Artie but was sad all the time, waiting for Santana to understand how she felt. You don't understand that they can function without one another, but they function better together. They love one another dad, don't you get that? Can't you see? Brittany is head-over-heels, crazy, fairytale in love right now, and it kills her that you won't celebrate this with her right now!"

"I know, Alexis! I know!" He said, his voice rising. "I'm trying."

"Well try fucking harder. What they have, whatever it is, deserves to be celebrated. It's not going to just disappear one day, when they grow out of it. It's the real deal, and the best thing you can do for Britt, for this fucking family, is to be happy for her." Alexis threw back her chair and stomped out of the room.

The parents of the glee club had all chipped in to rent a stretch limo Hummer that would fit all of the senior's in glee club and their dates, courtesy of a discount wrangled from Burt who worked on the limo company's cars. So far they'd picked up Quinn, Puck, Finn, Rachel, Sam, Mercedes, Mike and Tina. Caroline had invited the Lopez's for dinner so both families could get pictures, but Santana couldn't handle any more of her mother's excitement so she opted to take the limo over to Brittany's, separate from her family.

"Jesus, Santana, calm down," Quinn said, eyeing Santana fidgeting. "You'd think you were getting married or something." Santana shot Quinn her death glare.

"Britt's dad hates me, okay? He's not going to talk to me, and glare at me for defiling his little girl and turning her into a lesbian, which is really just a precursor to the rest of the night," Santana said, gesturing wildly with her hands. "Or like foreshadowing, or some shit like that," her breathing became more frenzied as they approached the Pierces' house. "I'm wearing this stupid dress, and everyone is going to laugh at me, that stupid dyke in a dress, who had the nerve to bring a girl to prom…" Santana was stopped by Quinn's hand roughly grabbing her wrist and yanking her out of the parked car. "What the fuck, Fabray?" Quinn shoved her against the side of the car, her finger pointed in Santana's face.

"Calm down, Santana! You're being crazy. Yeah, Britt's dad may not be head over heels about you dating her, but everyone else waiting for you in that house is. So get over yourself! They all want to take adorable couple pictures and fawn over their beautiful daughters. And you're really worried about McKinley? What happened to Kurt last year was awful, but you know it's not the same school today it was a year ago. You're out, Dave's out, Sam's out, Blaine's out, there are all those out little kids in glee whose names we can't be bothered to learn," Santana smirked. "And you're afraid about looking like a lesbian in a dress? Please. Have you seen yourself? You look amazing." Santana finally let a true smile cross her face.

"You're starting to sound a little gay too, Fabray." Santana said smiling.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling like yourself again, Santana." Quinn smirked as Santana approached Brittany's house.

Santana was nervous, despite having redeemed her confidence a bit after her conversation with Quinn. She had never picked anyone up for a dance before, nor did she think it was ever something she was going to have to do. Her mother, having seen Brittany's dress, helped her pick out the corsage and now she was supposed to just ring Brittany's doorbell and take her out. It felt so formal. It felt so gentlemanly. Santana hated it. Why wasn't Brittany picking her up for the dance? Was she destined to forever be the "guy" in their relationship? She was pretty sure, judging by her 4 inch heels, her D-Cups, and the amazing gold and black dress she'd picked out that she was never going to be the guy in any relationship.

"SANTANA!" Gracie yelled, swinging open the door before she even had a chance to ring the doorbell. "I've been waiting by the window for you to get here!"

"Aw, that's so sweet, honey."

"You look like a princess." Grace said, her eyes wide. "Brittie is going to be so excited to see you."

"That she will, my dear," Caroline said, entering the foyer and putting her arm around her youngest daughter. "You really look stunning, Santana. Just perfect." The relative quiet in the room was broken by Maria's squealing and the click of her camera. Santana hid her eyes from the flash.

"Oh, she's a born celebrity! Look at her hiding from the camera."

"No, mama, I have eyes and you're bombarding me with that flashing camera."

"You just look so beautiful, mija," her father said. "We can't help it."

"Santana," Brittany said, quietly emerging from the kitchen. All the parents quieted down as the two approached one another.

"Brittany. You, you look really, really pretty." Santana said, stuttering as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

"You look beautiful, Santana," Brittany said, taking both of Santana's hands into her own.

"You have a little chocolate," Santana said, wiping at the corner of Brittany's lip.

"Sorry," Brittany said, looking down and blushing. "I was hungry. I ate a brownie." Santana giggled.

"You're adorable." Her hand still rested on Brittany's face. "I love you so much right now." Santana whispered. She literally felt as though her heart was going to explode from her chest.

"Okay, if you guys are going to start kissing, can you please go upstairs and get your mack on, because nobody needs to see that," Gracie said, her hands firmly planted on her hips. Brittany and Santana both flushed a deep red.

"Okay," Maria said awkwardly, "Let's get some pictures." The three parents began taking a crazy series of pictures. Different angles, funny-face shots, grins, model poses and couples pictures.

"Oh, don't tell me the party got started without me," Mitchell said, entering the foyer and picking Gracie up into his arms. "So, this is the dress that had this whole household screaming," he said, chuckling. "You look lovely, Brittany." He said, taking in his daughter in a simple, but beautiful short navy blue dress with a red sash tied across her waist.

"Thanks, daddy."

"You look beautiful, Santana. So grown up." Making eye contact with the other girl.

"Thank you, Mr. Pierce," Santana said, looking down at the ground to conceal her blush. It was probably the first thing he had said directly to her since Sectionals.

"The corsage matches Brittany's sash."

"Yeah," Santana said, bashfully, "my mom helped me pick it out. She'd been over to see the dress." Santana said, eyeing the corsage still in its box under her arm.

"Well, put it on, that's the tradition, right?" Santana nodded and nervously put the corsage on Brittany's wrist.

"I got you one too, Santana," Brittany said, quickly popping back into the kitchen and coming back with a box in her hand. Brittany gingerly placed the blue corsage on Santana's wrist.

"This is so much better than going to prom with a boy. I bought a boot on ebay for 99 cents and a rabbit's foot from that magic shop on Main Street when Kyle Johnson took me to prom my Sophomore year. Where are you supposed to find an ear? He didn't even appreciate it."

"It's just a flower," Santana whispered over to Brittany, noticing the looks all four adults were giving her girlfriend. "It's French. Never mind, Britt, I'll tell you in the limo. The corsage is beautiful, thank you."

"You're welcome," Brittany said, glancing down at Santana's lips but obviously thinking better where her mind was taking her.

"Take care of my girl tonight, okay? You girls have fun." Mitch said as they made their way toward the door. Their parents all hugged them and saw them off.

"That was totally weird." Santana said, her hand clutched tightly to Brittany's. "Your dad, like, talked to me."

"Maybe he's coming around?" Brittany suddenly stopped on the walkway and jumped up and down clapping her hands together.

"What?" Santana asked.

"This is the first step. If he's okay with you taking me to a dance looking all hot in a dress, than the next formal event he'll be okay with you taking me to a dance all hot in a power suit."

"I'm not wearing a fucking power suit, Brittany."

"Why?"

"Because I like my dresses. Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have to wear a power suit."

"But you'd look so hot in a power suit, Santana. Plus, I thought you wanted to be a lawyer. Don't they have to wear power suits?"

"Yes, but then it's like scrubs on a doctor. Like, a uniform. Like Dalton."

"You mean Blaine's Hogwart's?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah. I won't have a choice. And lucky for me I'll look fucking hot in a power suit. I knew there was a reason I wasn't becoming a doctor."

"If we get married will you wear a suit or a dress?"

"BRITTANY AND SANTANA! We don't have all night!" Quinn yelled from the limo. "We still have to get Blaine, get your stupid lesbian asses in here!" Brittany giggled and pulled Santana into the limo so that she was between Quinn and Brittany.

"Thanks," Santana said, quietly.

"For what?"

"For ending that conversation."

"What were you talking about?"

"She asked me if I was going to wear a suit or a dress to our wedding." Quinn looked at Santana, her eyes wide, and then looked at Brittany. She looked at Santana again, and a grin slowly spread across her cheeks, quickly becoming full on laughter. She didn't stop laughing until all the glee club members exited the car and walked into their prom.

Prom was prom. There wasn't much to say about it. There was a DJ, this year. Apparently McKinley had finally entered the 21st century and realized that a band wasn't needed for music to play. They mostly danced in a group, gossiped by the punch bowl, or sat around awkward tables wondering why they so looked forward to this event every year, until a slow song came on. Suddenly, the seriousness that was prom hit everyone at a slow song. Santana rolled her eyes—somehow, she realized how ridiculous this all was. She knew that in ten years no one would remember the theme of this prom, or who danced with whom, or what anyone's dress looked like, but still, in this moment, everyone looked around at one another anxiously begging for someone to ask them to dance.

"Will you dance with me?" Brittany asked, looking down at Santana, her arms clasped behind her back. "I promise it will be okay. I danced with two girls last year. Kurt is dancing with Blaine, Dave is dancing with that guy from Hogwarts, and no one will notice if I start dancing with you. Everyone knows we're dating."

"Of course, Britt," Santana said, taking Brittany's hand and letting her lead her toward the dance floor. Brittany grasped Santana around the waist and pulled her flush to her body, leading the shorter girl slowly around the dance floor.

"You look so beautiful tonight," Brittany said.

"So do you."

"You don't have to be scared, you know?" Brittany said, whispering into Santana's ear as they swayed around the gym. "No one is paying attention. Even if they are, who cares about them? We're 18, we're out of this school in a month, and we'll be in LA in five."

"I'm not scared anymore, Britt," Santana said, leaning her chin up to catch Brittany's lips with her own. They weren't so much dancing anymore, merely swaying to a slow beat as they kissed one another in the middle of the dance floor. Brittany smiled.

"Every time I think it's impossible to love you more, I do."

"I am a never-ending well of lovability," Santana said, teasingly, into Brittany's lips.

"Tell the glee club that," Brittany joked.

"Don't need to. The only person who matters knows already," Santana said, kissing Brittany again as they continued their sway on the dance floor.

"Why do we always have the worst time at prom?" Quinn asked Rachel. It was hours later. Prom had come and gone and they'd taken the limo back to Puck's for the real Prom party.

"We have bad taste in men. And a penchant for running into one another in the restroom."

"Well, you really should have locked the door. This isn't the McKinley bathroom."

"I know. What can I say? I've had two wine coolers and already I'm not thinking straight. I mean, what does Puck think he can get to happen by constantly slipping me more wine coolers?" Rachel asked.

"Well, he could always get you pregnant." Quinn replied. They stood in silence.
"Sorry," Rachel said, quietly. Quinn simply shrugged.

"You ever notice the only people we know who are ever happy are the gay ones?" Quinn asked.

"That's ridiculous. Have you forgotten how miserable Brittany and Santana were last year? That Kurt was pretending to be straight when we met him? That Dave wanted to kill himself and Blaine got beat up? And Sam…well I guess Sam has always been pretty happy."

"Okay. That's fair. I just…well, they're all so happy now. It's like the gay kids are the only ones that have it figured out and us straight kids are flailing balls of emotion." Rachel chuckled at Quinn's phrase.

"Maybe it's just that the gay kids have to think a lot more about their emotions than us straight kids do? We just like people and act on those feelings. They have to…you know…think about what it all means." They sat and thought on Rachel's words in silence. "Hey, this is at least a little better than the way we met at last year's Prom. You haven't slapped me yet." Quinn smiled.

"You haven't provoked me yet."

"Well, anything can still happen?" Rachel giggled nervously.

"You ready to go back out there?"

"Not really," Rachel replied.

"Do you want to drink these wine coolers? I swiped them after Puck attempted to produce baby number two," Quinn said, pulling a shocking number of wine coolers out of her purse. Quinn sat on the edge of the bathtub and Rachel sat on the toilet and the girls opened their drinks.

"Why are we at this party, Brittany?" Santana said into Brittany's mouth, pulling slightly away from their kiss. She couldn't pull too far away because Brittany had her pinned against a wall.

"Because this is what you do after Prom. You go to a house party."

"I don't want to be at a house party," Santana hiccupped. "I want to be at my house, in my bed, with you, naked." Santana slurred out, running her index finger down Brittany's collarbone, sternum, and then in between her breasts.

"I want that too," Brittany said, leaning closer into Santana and allowing her thigh to ride up between Santana's legs.

"We're leaving. Now." Santana said. Without a word to their friends they began the quick walk back to Santana's house.

"We're friends, right Quinnie?" Rachel hiccupped out, nearly falling backward into the bathtub. Quinn began to laugh hysterically.

"You—you almost-you almost fell!" She laughed, holding onto her chest. "And don't call me Quinnie. My mother calls me Quinnie."

"You," Rachel said, tapping Quinn square in the chest, "didn't answer my question. Are we friends?"
"I guess so," Quinn laughed, taking another sip of her wine cooler. "I mean, you did steal my boyfriend from me twice, ad you talk way more than any human being should be allowed. But your birth mother adopted my birth child, which kind of makes you my daughter…" Quinn trailed off again.

"I don't want to be your daughter, Quinn…" Rachel replied, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn shook her head laughing. "I want to be your friend, Quinn." Quinn smiled, silently.

"How do you think the gay kids know they're gay?" Quinn asked out of nowhere. Rachel shrugged. "Like, do you think Santana would have realized she's gay had she never met Brittany?"

"I don't know. I never really thought about it."

"Have you ever thought about, you know, being with a girl?" Quinn asked Rachel, cautiously.

"I've been with a girl." Rachel said, matter-of-factly.

"What?" Quinn replied, incredulously.

"I mean…it's not like I had sex with her. I haven't had sex with anyone. I've made out with girls before, though."

"But…you…Finn…I don't understand."

"I'm not a lesbian, Quinn, but I've always been open with my sexuality." Rachel said, cautiously. "Besides, you're Santana's best friend. I'm surprised you two never, you know?"

"We have." Quinn said, simply.

"No way?"

"Cheerleading camp. Shit happens," Quinn said, giggling. Rachel began giggling too.

"Glee club is so gay," Rachel said.

"So gay." Quinn replied. "Just so, so, gay. Let's go find Brittany and Santana and ask them about being gay." Quinn said, grabbing Rachel's hand and leading them out of the bathroom. They wandered around the house for a bit, unsuccessful, until they found Puck.

"Where are Brittany and Santana?" Quinn asked Puck angrily, lightly shoving her hand against his chest.

"I don't know, why are you mad at me? Last I saw they were getting hot against the wall over there," Puck said, gesturing to the, now empty, wall.

"We have to ask them," Quinn started.

"About being lesbians. We have some questions." Rachel finished.

"Well, why don't you just answer those questions for yourselves, ladies. There's nothing like a few wine coolers to loosen you up, and trust me, there's nothing wrong with experimenting."

"Is that so, Puck?" Kurt asked resting his hand on Puck's shoulder. Puck turned a bright red and Quinn and Rachel doubled over in laughter.

"Stop right there, young lady." Maria appeared at the top of the stairs, flipping on the hall light, catching Santana leading Brittany into her room.

"What?" Santana asked, innocently.

"You don't think you're going to get to share a bed with your girlfriend on prom night, do you?"

"Well, that's kind of what you do on Prom night." Santana said, too drunk to attempt to lie her way around what she was doing.
"Brittany can sleep in Christian or Carlos' room, or the guest room. You know the rules."

"No."
"Santana, this isn't up for discussion."

"Yes, it is! This is what prom night is about! What am I supposed to say to our children? Mom and I almost had the perfect night until your abuela ruined it and made mom sleep in Uncle Christian's room."
"Or Uncle Carlos'," Maria said, smirking, wondering how long it would take for her daughter to feel incredibly embarrassed about this turn their conversation had taken. "Think about this, Ms. Santana who suddenly has children, when your little girl comes home after her prom night, are you going to let her share a room with her boyfriend?"

"Hell no! But Amy would never ask that of me." Brittany leaned down and whispered in Santana's ear. Santana rolled her eyes. "Rainbow," Santana said, with a second eye roll, "would never bring a boyfriend home like that. Oh my god," Santana said. "I'm drunk." Her mother again raised her eyebrows at her, causing Santana to flush bright red.

"Well," Maria said, rolling her eyes, "as fascinating as this conversation is, I'm going to let you two do your drunk family planning in separate rooms. I'll follow you.

"But, mom…"

"Look, Santana. In three months you and Brittany will live in Los Angeles, and you're free to have all the sleepovers you want to plan for future Amy and Alanis and Rainbow and Brownie's. But, tonight, your in my house, under my rules, and no one shares a room with their significant other until they're out of high school."

"But—"

"Look, Santana. I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I'm up, because I thought that's what a good parent does. If you and Brittany sneak around after I'm asleep in about fifteen minutes, I won't know. Just let me go to bed." Maria walked the girls into their respective rooms and walked down the hall, slamming the door behind her. Maria tiptoed into her own room.

"You caved. I knew you'd cave." Her husband whispered out, sleepily.

"I didn't cave!" Maria whispered. "Santana was talking about her and Brittany's children and I got…sad…"

"Why'd you get sad?" He asked, yawning.

"Because our little girl is growing up. Who would have thought when she first started having 'sleepovers'," Maria said, using air quotes, "with Brittany and begging for boob jobs and picking fights with her classmates that she'd ever get to a point where she was happy and well-adjusted enough to fight with me about having sex with her girlfriend in our house, using her future lesbian babies as weapons."

"She has grown. How drunk is she?"

"I'm pretty sure she's gone. She was talking about children."

"Can I make fun of her tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"How long is she grounded for?"

"A week. Not that it will do anything, anyway."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

It was fifteen minutes before Brittany finally heard complete silence from Santana's parents bedroom. She carefully slides out of the door and across the hall to Santana's room. Santana was in her lace underwear, face down in her pillow, snoring like a middle-aged man. Brittany rolled her eyes and crawled into bed next to Santana.

"So much for the epic story to tell Rainbow about our Prom night," Brittany said, wrapping her arms around Santana's waist and kissing the back of her neck.

Santana lay her head down on the island in the kitchen while Brittany rubbed her back the next morning.

"That's what you get for drinking, young lady." Maria said.

"You also get a week in this house." Her father added.

"What?" Santana said, her head shooting up from the cold tiles. "You can't ground me for drinking! You know I drink. I'm 18, this isn't fair!"

"No, Santana," her father butted in, "we accept that we can't stop you from drinking when we know where you're going, where you're sleeping, and how you're getting home. We knew none of these things last night. You were supposed to be going to straight to Brittany's from Prom and instead you showed up here, drunk, in the middle of the night, fighting with your mother about our rules."

"I always fight with mom about our rules."

"Okay, and we've been very liberal regarding your behavior. We have the perspective, Santana, that we can't control whether or not you drink, or who you sleep with, but we can make sure you're doing it safely and honestly as long as you live under our roof, and you broke that trust last night. I mean, how would you feel if Amy or Rainbow did something like that under your roof?" Her father asked her, chancing a quick smirk at Maria.

"Who the fu…izzle are Amy and Rainbow?" Santana asked, suddenly feeling the spins again and laying her head back on the counter.

"They're our future children," Brittany chimed in, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Give me that," Santana said, taking the coffee away from Brittany. "You don't need that. It's making you crazy."

"You told your mom that we needed to sleep together so that we would have a romantic prom night story to tell our daughters, Amy and Rainbow. I don't really get it though. It would be romantic if it were our first time having sex, but we've done it like hundreds," Santana lifted her hand over Brittany's mouth.

"Britt. Enough," Santana said. "There's no way we had that conversation."

"Oh, but you did, Miss Santana." Maria said. "Now, I suggest you eat your food and soak in as much Brittany time as you can get, because she can't sleep over this week, understood?"

"But…"

"You would do the same to Rainbow and Amy," Maria said.

"I hate you all. My head hurts too much to argue, but I really hate you all right now."

"You love me," Brittany said, placing a kiss on Santana's forehead.

"By the way, Brittany," Maria added. "Your parents called this morning, wondering where you two were. Your dad sounded disappointed you weren't there. He said something about the Grand Slamtana?" Brittany smiled.

"It's Santana's breakfast of choice. Pancakes, bacon, eggs."

"Well, it's a shame you missed it. You're grounded too, and you're to go home as soon as you two finish breakfast."

"I'm going to vomit, Britt," Santana said, suddenly paling. She stumbled out of her chair. "I'm sorry, Britt-Britt. I have to vomit." Santana ran out of the room.

"I guess I should be going," Brittany said, after Santana ran down the hall. Maria walked Brittany to the door. "Did my dad really talk about the grand Slamtana?" Brittany asked Maria before exiting the house.

"He did," Maria said, grabbing Brittany's hand and squeezing it. "Things are going to be okay, my dear."

"Thanks, Maria!" Brittany said grinning. She turned and ran down the walkway.

"See you next week, Brittany!" Maria said, smiling as she watched the blond skip down the street until she was out of view.

Brittany tried to be as quiet as possible as she snuck into her house, but, unfortunately, her two younger sisters were sitting in the doorway.

"You're in trouble," Gracie sang out.

"Thanks, Grace," Brittany said, trying to shush her sister.

"Brittany?" Her father called from his office. "Brittany? Are you home?"

"Yes, daddy," Brittany said.

'Can you come in here?" Brittany slowly walked to her father's office, sticking her head in the door.

"I'm sure the Lopez's already informed you that you're grounded."

"Yes, dad," Brittany said.

"You can't just not come home, Britt. We worry about you. Who knows what could have happened?"

"We just went to Puck's house and Santana's house is closer."

"Still, you have to call if you're not going to come home. For whatever reason. Understood?"

"Yeah," Brittany said. "I'm really sorry." Brittany turned to leave the office.

"Did you and Santana have fun at Prom?" Her father asked before she could leave the office.

"Yeah! It was awesome. Best prom ever! And I've been to a lot of proms."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it, and I can't wait to hear about it at dinner tonight. Which you'll be at, because you're grounded."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks dad!" Brittany said. Mitch was sure he could hear her skipping up the stairs. He smiled to himself. The Brittany he knew was coming back. He grounded her, but said something nice about Santana, and he smiled listening to her skip all the way into her room.