A/N: Hello fine readers! Just a few more chapters to go. Thank you all for your patience and comments. Shout out to my beta slayhue for her fabulous consulting skills. Big wet, probably sloppy kisses to all you amazing unicorns! Mama Lopez loves you and thinks you should clean up your room.

Santana and Brittany left Kurt and the Lima Bean and drove past the church where Santana first discovered her love of singing. Santana glanced over to the parishioners filing out and saw her father. She smiled, but soon faltered as she saw him helping Abuela into his car. Brittany glanced over and saw Dr. Lopez.

"Hey it's your dad," Brittany announced cheerfully and started to wave. "Oh and, and…" her hand and voice fell.

Brittany looked over at Santana's sad, yet steely gaze focused on the road. Brittany put her hand on Santana's thigh and pressed lightly.

"I'm okay Britt," Santana said, staring ahead at the road. "I'm okay."

"Has she, I mean, you haven't seen her since Christmas right?"

Santana nodded.

"How is that okay?" Brittany quietly asked.

"You get used to it," Santana said with a tired shrug.

"You shouldn't have to get used to something like that," Brittany reasoned.

"Shouldn't have to in a perfect world, but we don't live in one of those, do we?" Santana explained. "It is what it is," Santana sighed.

Brittany sat in the passenger seat and thought about all the things she wished she could change in the world. Santana's abuela accepting her again was high on her list, but Brittany knew she couldn't do anything about it. It was up to her abuela.

Santana was put in a better mood, mostly by Brittany's excitement that Lucky Charms were on sale that week at the grocery store. Maribel, Santana and Brittany walked through the aisles, dodging shopping carts and crying toddlers. Santana winced at their piercing wails and Brittany just pouted in sympathy. Maribel gave the girls a lesson on how to pick the best blackberries and save money on tomatoes. Maribel's cell phone rang and she dug through her purse to retrieve it before it went to voice mail. She smiled as the name popped up on the screen.

"Susan, how are you?" Maribel greeted.

"Great, thank you Maribel. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Mrs. Pierce replied.

"No, no, just grocery shopping with the girls. They do most of it anyway. What's up?"

"Well I wanted to let you know we've got my mother all set up in a step-down assisted living home. She has her own bungalow, but it's on the same property as an assisted living apartment complex and a nursing home. So if she needs anything, a nurse is just a few steps away," Susan explained.

"Wow, that sounds lovely. Make sure you get me a brochure. I might want to ship Alma off soon," Maribel joked.

"You're terrible. But you're always thinking. I like that about you," Susan chuckled. "Anyway, my mother is doing really well. So that's a load off our minds. How are the girls? Brittany called me Friday to tell me about the apartment your man weaseled out of his doctor friend."

"Oh they're fine. Doing great actually. Almost too good," Maribel replied.

Santana turned and gave her mother a questioning look as she tried to pick out the best bag of seedless grapes. Maribel gave her a wink and a smile.

"Good, good," Susan replied. "I was also calling, because we'll be home two weeks from today. So you won't have to put up with Lord Tubbington anymore."

"Well he and I have come to sort of an agreement. My husband however, well, let's just say, we're not getting a cat anytime soon," Maribel chuckled.

"They still battling over the chair?"

"Oh yes. That's their main fight," Maribel replied.

"Thank you so much again for looking after Brittany and doing all the things I couldn't this summer."

"Susan, we've been over this. It's been my pleasure. Brittany's an angel, well, most of the time," Maribel said. "And I already got the flowers, the gift card to the salon and the masseuse, so you can stop with the thank yous."

Brittany and Santana returned to Maribel with more groceries, and Mrs. Lopez said her goodbye to Mrs. Pierce.

"Your family will be back in two weeks Brittany," Maribel said with a big grin.

Brittany bounced up and down and clapped her hands together. "Can't wait."

When Maribel, Brittany and Santana came home, they saw Dr. Lopez sitting in his favorite chair reading Sports Illustrated. Lord Tubbington sat on the coffee table across from him, and stared.

After putting away the groceries, Santana entered the living room, sat on the couch, and smiled at the silent stand off. Dr. Lopez seemed visibly irked. He peeked over his magazine and smirked at Lord Tubbington.

"Mine," he smugly stated, and returned to his sports article.

"So how's Abuela?" Santana asked, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

Lord Tubbington didn't flinch. Dr. Lopez did.

"Huh?" Dr. Lopez asked, setting his journal on his lap.

"I passed church today coming back from the Lima Bean. I saw you and Abuela at your car," Santana explained.

"Oh," Dr. Lopez acknowledged with a nod.

He tried to read his daughter's face, but it was steady and unemotional. Like she was asking about how the Red's played. Santana raised her eyebrows in question.

"She's fine. Her doctors changed one of her cholesterol meds and she's not happy about it. She's still upset they stopped stocking her favorite guava paste at the store, and she doesn't like the new priest," Dr. Lopez explained.

"What's wrong with the new priest?" Santana asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I think he's been doing a great job. He's settled in now. Good service today. I think he's just too young for her tastes," her father smirked.

"So he's not condemning me to hell?" Santana sarcastically replied.

"Well he didn't name you specifically," Dr. Lopez joked. "No, he's more of the 'God doesn't make mistakes', 'Love all your brothers and sisters and minister with kindness' kind of priest."

"Abuela's not buying that, eh? Figures," Santana said with a resigned sigh.

"She wanted him to meet with you and asked him about getting you to go to confession…" Dr. Lopez explained.

"Oh god," Santana rolled her eyes. "Did she mention I haven't been to church since 8th grade?"

"I think she skipped that part," Dr. Lopez smiled. "You'd like him though. He told her love wasn't something a penitent should confess as an act of contrition."

"Wait, what? He took the whole 'Love isn't a sin' stand?"

Her father nodded.

"I like this guy. He should talk to Abuela more often," Santana smiled.

"We'll see," Dr. Lopez smiled back and sighed. "We'll see."

Brittany walked into the bookstore, and found the manager, not Quinn at the counter.

"She's in the back," she smiled and nodded.

Brittany smiled thanks and looked for Santana. She found her hunched over a labeling machine at one of the café tables. Brittany dropped her backpack on an empty chair and sat down.

"What are you making me?" Brittany teased.

Santana smiled but didn't look up right away. "If all you want are shelf labels that read 'Military History', 'African-American Literature' and 'Erotica', then you just made my Christmas shopping super easy this year."

"I'm pretty sure I'll take anything you give me if it says 'erotica' on it," Brittany teased.

Santana looked up after she was finished with her task and gave Brittany a quick peck on the lips.

"How was school? Get your grades back?" Santana asked.

"It was fine today. Chemistry's getting weirder," Brittany complained.

"More complicated?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, I don't know. Where's Quinn?" Brittany asked, biting her lip.

"She went to say good bye to Berry," Santana rolled her eyes.

Brittany shook her head and grimaced like she ate her least favorite Sour Patch Kid. Brittany pulled out her phone and sent Quinn a text.

"Rescheduling tutor time?" Santana asked.

Brittany shrugged again. "No, asking when she's done with Rachel so we can start studying," Brittany answered, her eyes glued to her phone.

Santana's fingers caressed Brittany's wrist.

"Britt, are you okay? You look…stressed," Santana asked with concern.

"I'll be okay," Brittany assured her. "Just got to keep studying," Brittany said with a smile as she got up.

"Leaving so soon? You want to have coffee together before you go?" Santana asked, getting up from her work.

"No, no. I should really get home and start. I'm sure Quinn will meet me there when she's done," Brittany said slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "See you at home," Brittany said then walked through the store and out the door.

Santana watched Brittany leave and worried her thumb into her palm. No test results and no kiss good bye. Santana got suspicious and then shook the thoughts away. It's just stress, Santana repeated to herself and got back to work.

Santana came home and greeted Quinn and Brittany in the kitchen. Quinn gave her a tight smile and returned to explaining a chemistry concept to Brittany. Brittany had her head in her hands, rubbing her temples. Santana left them alone and took out some leftovers from the refrigerator to reheat. She shut the refrigerator and looked at the Chemistry and English tests neatly lining the door. All decent grades proudly displayed on the fridge. But this week's tests weren't on there. Santana took the plastic wrap off the leftover dish and opened the garbage. She dropped the wadded up plastic wrap on top of a pile of used tissues.

Quinn went home and Brittany went up to her room after dinner. Santana soon followed and had her literature notes and book in hand. Santana knocked softly on Brittany's door and let herself in. Brittany was reading her book and chewing on her nails. She looked up and gave a weak smile.

"Hey," Santana greeted carefully soft.

"Hey," Brittany replied with a stronger smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Santana asked.

Brittany patted the bed and Santana sat down, crossed her legs underneath her and draped Brittany's legs over her lap. Santana smoothed her hands over Brittany's knees and calves. Brittany let out a big breath of air.

"I didn't do very well on my chemistry test," Brittany said apologetically.

"That's okay Britt. I mean one bad grade isn't going to sink the entire summer semester, right?" Santana reasoned.

"No. You're right. It's not. But I only have like, 2 weeks left and then our final exams, and it's like I'm getting worse at it. Or I can't remember stuff anymore. I thought it was supposed to get easier, because I know stuff now," Brittany pouted.

Santana gave Brittany a sympathetic smile and held her hand.

"Yes, you know more stuff about chemistry and literature now, and that's amazing that you know all that stuff. And now, now they're making you build on that. They're adding more twists and turns. It's like those crazy routines Coach would make up. Start with the basics and then add more, and more and more, until when you did the final, completed routine, you thought your body was going to just rip apart it pushed you so much."

"My brain is like my quads?" Brittany asked.

Santana nodded. "Like your quads and abs and biceps and your cute butt and all your bones too. You keep practicing Chemistry and English, and exercising your brain, just like Cheerios…"

"…and I'll have a National Championship brain," Brittany smiled.

"Totally. And a high school diploma, which is much more important," Santana explained with a smile.

"So this week's grades are like I pulled a hamstring," Brittany reasoned.

"Pretty much," Santana reassured her. "Were they that bad?" Santana hesitantly asked.

"75 on my Lit exam and 69 on Chemistry," Brittany grumbled.

"Wanky," Santana winked.

Brittany tilted her head and sighed impatience.

"Sorry," Santana apologized with discomfort. "Inappropriate use of wanky. Just trying to lighten the mood," Santana said with a helpless shrug.

Brittany smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes, as she reached for her literature notes. Santana reviewed with her and they said their goodnights. Brittany tried to sleep, but despite her exhaustion, she couldn't. "The high school diploma was the most important" kept running through her head. If she didn't get that, the jobs they got, the apartment they'll have, the classes they'll take, will be all for naught.

Santana woke up to the smell of coffee brewing. She made it a point to wake up early, so she could treat Brittany to a nice breakfast.

"What are you doing up so early?" Santana asked her mother, who was pouring a cup of coffee.

"Your dad accidentally woke me up when he went into work this morning, so I just got up," Maribel shrugged. "You making breakfast for Brittany?"

Santana nodded. "She needs a pick-me-up."

"No new tests on the fridge," Maribel noted. "Did she fail them?"

"No, no. A 'C' and a 'D+'," Santana sighed. "She's starting to get stressed, or more stressed and I think it's messing with her head."

"Well it's a lot more real now," Mrs. Lopez remarked.

"Why?"

"You have an apartment. You both landed jobs. Graduation is a few weeks away, then, you're moving. But what if Brittany fails? Then she has to repeat her senior year here, not in New York with you. And if she's not there in New York with you, how are you going to afford that apartment? She's feeling pretty damn responsible, not only for her own success, but for yours as well, I'd bet," Maribel explained.

Santana let her mother's words sink in. When Brittany arrived in the kitchen for breakfast, Santana stayed cheerful and supportive. Santana didn't know what else to do, except be Brittany's personal cheerleader.

At the bookstore, Santana and Quinn ate lunch together.

"What happened with Britt's last test Q?"

Quinn sighed and put down her salad fork. "It was just so many little things. She gets the big concepts. She really does. It's the little details that are tripping her up. I reviewed it with her last night, and she got it after that."

"So why don't you give her a practice test on Wednesday, you can review it on Thursday, and she'd be better off for the real test on Friday?" Santana suggested.

"Well, we've been doing that. Okay, not a full on test, but we have been reviewing the material," Quinn explained.

"Yeah, but maybe it'll help a little for her to just take a test. No help. Just do it. Get her mind in the test game a little more," Santana suggested.

"Maybe. It just seems like test anxiety is getting to her," Quinn said. "But she does do much better after we review. It's like it all clicks, just the day after the test. Which, of course, isn't helping."

"She's putting a lot of pressure on herself. If she doesn't pass summer school, it kind of screws me, and even Kurt. She doesn't want to let us down," Santana explained.

Quinn pursed her lips and tapped her finger to her chin in thought.

"Last time I saw her that freaked out was before her big dance number with Mike during Valerie," Quinn remarked.

"Really? Huh. I just remember her slapping my ass," Santana smirked.

"It was your big number, she wasn't about to distract you with her fears, now was she?"

"But she kicked ass during that number. She practiced so hard and it paid off," Santana recalled.

"Maybe she needs a reminder that when people count on her, she comes through," Quinn suggested.

Santana wanted Brittany to forget about the tests, grades and even moving to New York for one weekend. So when Quinn asked Brittany about her exams on Saturday as they drove to Cincinnati, Santana gave her a pointed look.

"What?" Quinn mouthed.

"Not today," Santana mouthed back.

"Um, you know I'm right here, right?" Brittany teased.

"What?" Quinn and Santana both feigned innocence.

"I'm fine. The exams were okay. But it's cool not to talk about it, because Santana doesn't want me to worry. So you two shouldn't worry," Brittany replied.

"You just seemed stressed is all, Britt," Santana explained.

"I am stressed. But you two not, not talking about it isn't helping, so quit it," Brittany said with a knowing raised eyebrow.

Santana crossed her arms in defeat and Quinn shook her head.

They pulled up to the tattoo parlor and Quinn checked in at the desk. While Quinn waited for her tattoo artist, Santana and Brittany looked through flash art and the pictures of tattoos and piercings the staff had done.

"Whoa," Brittany whispered.

"What?" Santana asked trying to see what Brittany was looking at.

Brittany had flipped to the genital piercing section.

"Ouch," Santana said with a grimace and crossed her legs.

"I don't think that's something you should pierce," Brittany said with a scrunched up face, sticking out her tongue.

"Uh, I'd have to agree with you on that Britt. Works great without any jewelry," Santana said. "And, ouch," Santana repeated.

Quinn called them over to sit with her as she discussed her tattoo with her artist Brian. Quinn reviewed the design with Brian and showed Brittany and Santana. It would be a tree. The scars would be part of the branches and some of the leaves. There were symbols "carved" into the base of the tree trunk.

"That's going to be so cool Quinn," Brittany smiled.

"I still think the Phoenix would've been cooler," Santana teased.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "What do you guys think, really?"

Santana and Brittany both nodded and smiled. "Going to look sweet Q. Really," Santana praised.

"Good. Because, I'm doing the outline today. Next week it's color and Unholy Trinity tattoos," Quinn grinned.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn showed Brian their design ideas. He called over another artist, Kelly, and gave it to her to sketch. While Quinn's skin was cleaned, shaved and cleaned again, Santana checked out the board of health certificates and the auto clave machine.

"All new needles, all surgical sterilization," Brian commented.

Santana nodded and went back to watching Quinn get tattooed. Quinn flinched at the first touch of the tattoo gun, let out a breath and smiled through gritted teeth.

"Worse than your old one, isn't it?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, just like you said," Quinn replied.

Brittany held Quinn's hand and looked at her with curiosity.

"The scar tissue. Makes it a little more sensitive," Quinn explained.

"At least yours is small," Brian reasoned. "My cousin's wife had me do a cover of her mastectomy scar."

"I didn't think those were that big?" Santana asked.

"She had the surgery about 30 years ago. Hack job if you ask me, but it is what it is. Ink came out great though," he said with a nod to the wall.

Brittany and Santana looked over to see a large print framed on the wall. A side profile of a nude woman, her torso turned toward the camera. Where her left breast used to be, and down her side to her hip was a huge standing peacock in all its gorgeous colors.

"Wow," Santana said, standing up to get a closer look.

"That's amazing," Brittany said.

"That's why I picked him," Quinn said through a wince. "He's a sort of expert on tattooing scar tissue."

"I've just had a lot of practice," he demurred.

Santana gazed along the wall at other portraits of tattooed people. Many of them were military veterans who covered and sometimes accentuated their war wounds with skin art.

After Quinn's tattoo work was done for the day, the three of them reviewed the design ideas and discussed placement of their respective tattoos. They argued and then agreed that each could choose where on their bodies the tattoo would go. Then they consulted Brian and Kelly about which body part hurt the worst to tattoo.

Brittany decided that she didn't want a tattoo on her head or the back of her knee anyway. They paid their deposits and made their appointments for the following weekend with their artists and left feeling like the bad asses they always pretended to be.