Santana's at lunch when Sam decides to turn up to annoy her. Brittany is stuck in some Student Council meeting, so she's been forced to brave the cafeteria alone, but as soon as Sam enters and spots her, he seems to make a beeline for her and sits himself down across from her.

"Well, well, Sammy Evans." She leans back in her chair and offers him one of the fakest smiles. "Just can't stay away, can you? I'm hoping you didn't come back to McKinley for another shot at the twins though, Trouty, because if so, you missed your chance I'm afraid."

He only smiles. "So I heard. You and Brittany, huh?"

So her smile might become slightly less fake at the mention of her girl. "Let me guess, you're here to bitch about how I'm making you look bad? I date you, and you put me off men for life?"

"Is that how it happened?" His smile gets even bigger and she wonders if it's even possible to ever offend him. "Because I remember it a little differently."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, way I see it? I'm the guy who made you realise that you couldn't live another day without Brittany. I'm the reason you two are together, and I think you owe me for that." There's a dangerous glint in his eye.

"I'm not watching Avatar with you again." She shakes her head. "Or Star Wars. Or Star Trek. Or that stupid space pirate show."

Judging by his horrified expression maybe it is possible to offend him after all. "Firefly is not a stupid space pirate show. It's a work of genius. Not cool insulting Joss Whedon, Santana, not cool."

"Whatever." If it gets her out of any kind of sci-fi marathon, it's worth it.

"Anyway I was thinking more like you naming your first born after me."

What is it with people assuming that her and Brittany are going to be churning out babies right out of high school? "You want me to call our kid Trouty Mouth? Wouldn't that count as child abuse?"

"But you owe me your future happiness. I don't get anything for that?"

"You know I've just remembered, didn't I dump your sorry ass for Dave Karofsky? So doesn't that mean I should be naming my children after him, not you?" She's been thinking about Karofsky quite a bit lately with everything that's happened, wondering if he's still lost deep in Narnia, or if like her, he's also found his way out of the closet one way or another.

Sam's smile fades. "Yeah, in my version, that didn't happen either."

Okay so maybe she feels a little bit bad about the way she treated Sam, but it's not like he wasn't only using her to make Quinn jealous anyway. He never had any feelings for her, hell, he never even seemed to be all that into her at all. Which she finds a little offensive actually now that she thinks about it.

She's about to tell him as much when he speaks first. "Seriously though, Kurt told me what happened, with Finn and the commercial and everything, and it really sucks that it went down like that. I'm sorry."

"Not like it's your fault, Trouty."

"Still, I wish I'd been here. I'd have had your back, you know?"

"God, what is it with all you guys wanting to be my lesbro?" First Puck, now Sam. She just hopes Finn doesn't ask her next.

Sam just looks confused. "Is that like being your bitch? Because I had enough of that when we were dating."

"Nevermind." She rolls her eyes at him.

"Do you need a lesbro?" He places his elbows on the table and leans closer to her. "Are people giving you trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

Most people would take that as a hint to drop the subject, but not Sam and his guppy lips. "Which means what?"

She shrugs. "Some bitch on the Cheerios made some snide comment that involved the word dyke yesterday." She's not sure why she's even telling him this.

"And you kicked her ass right?" There's a flash of anger in his eyes, but it's quickly gone.

"Sadly, I didn't get the chance. She was stupid enough to say it in front of Coach Sylvester who subjected her to a twenty minute put down, which was pretty damn impressive even by Coach's standards, and then once she'd broke down in tears, Coach kicked her off the squad. Payback's a bitch, right?"

"And the rest of the Cheerios?"

"Most of them have been okay with it. Or acting like they are. Coach has made it clear that anyone who has a problem with me and Britts ain't going to last long on the squad."

"It's kinda cool that she'd stand up for you like that, even if her being nice is a little creepy."

"Not really. She's only doing it because she knows she's no chance of winning at Regionals without me and Britt to bail her out. It's just self preservation."

"Or you know, maybe she actually does care about you."

"I somehow doubt that." She'd love to know just how he's managed to avoid becoming even slightly cynical after everything his family has been through.

He's quiet for a moment, studying the table in front of him. Eventually he looks up. "How'd your folks take it?"

She still isn't one hundred percent sure on that. "Like it's no big deal."

"That's good, right?"

She wishes she knew. It's almost like they're ignoring the whole thing, which is only slightly better than them throwing her out onto the street. They haven't even mentioned it since she told them, and she hasn't dared to be the one to bring up the subject. "Guess so."

He looks like he's about to say more on the topic, but she's saved by her phone beeping as she receives a text message.

Janitor's closet. Five minutes?

Guess that tells her how Brittany wants to spend the rest of the time before afternoon classes.

She quickly slides her phone into her pocket. "Sorry, Sammy, as lovely as our little catch up session has been, I gots to run." She's on her feet before he can protest.

He puts a hand on her arm to stop her though. "Santana?"

"What now, Trouty?" She turns back to face him.

"I just wanted to say that it suits you, you know?"

"What does?"

"You being happy."

She rolls her eyes, but she can't stop herself from smiling. "It's good to have you back, Evans." She leans down, keeping her voice low. "But tell anyone I said that and I will unleash Snix on your ass."

"Understood." He nods quickly. "Now get outta here, go find your girl."

She doesn't need to be told twice.

"This isn't good, you guys."

Brittany really wishes Mercedes wouldn't state the obvious like that. She stays where she is, lying on her back on the stage, her eyes fixed up on the ceiling. She can think of much better ways she could be spending her free time, something she seems to already have less of since becoming Student President, but Mercedes has called an emergency meeting of the Trouble Tones. Well, an emergency meeting that consists of Brittany, Santana and Sugar meeting her in the auditorium. Brittany isn't sure if the other girls have just not bothered to show up or if Mercedes didn't think it important to invite them.

Santana's sitting at the piano, filing her nails, attempting to look uninterested in the conversation, but Brittany knows otherwise. "Look, they still don't have Berry. You really think them bringing Trouty Mouth back is going to make a difference?"

Sugar must be feeling left out of the conversation. "I don't get it. What's the big deal with the boy with the big lips? He looks like a huge dork to me."

Brittany lifts her head so she can watch how Mercedes reacts to that. Unimpressed is the word she would use.

Santana however doesn't seem to feel the same. "He is a huge dork." When Mercedes glares at her, she simply shrugs. "What? He is."

Sugar has to ask, "But you still dated him?"

Brittany sits up now, the conversation suddenly having captured her attention.

Santana's eyes meet hers. "It was an act of charity. I saved him from Quinn who was cheating on him with Finn."

"Wait, he dated Quinn as well as you and Mercedes? What's so good about this guy that three of you went out with him?"

When neither Santana or Mercedes look like they're going to answer, Brittany suggests, "He's a pretty good kisser." When Santana frowns at her, she quickly adds, "Not as good as you, but come on, his lips are pretty awesome to kiss."

Sugar's eyes widen. "You too? What, was he like working his way through the whole Glee club or something? And now he's back to finish the job?"

Mercedes doesn't seem to like that idea. "Can we all focus on Sectionals here for a minute?"

Sugar ignores her. "So do New Directions only ever date each other? Is it like a competition with you guys to see who can complete the full set first? Who's in the lead?"

All three of them answer at the same time. "Puck."

Mercedes folds her arms and scowls. "Forget about the romantic goings on of New Directions. It's not important who Puck is sleeping with this week. What is important is making sure we don't get screwed over at Sectionals."

Sugar sighs and sits down on the stage. "I still don't get why you're worrying about one boy, even if he does have magic lips. We've got Adele. We can't loose if we do Adele."

Santana had gone back to filing her nails, but she freezes now. When she speaks her voice is low and even, her don't argue with me tone. "We're not doing Adele."

Sugar opens her mouth to say something but quickly closes it when Santana holds a hand up and repeats, "We're not doing Adele."

Both Sugar and Mercedes turn to look at Brittany, as if silently asking her for help here, but this is as much news to her as it is to them. When Mercedes realises that Brittany isn't going to say anything, she carefully takes a step towards Santana. "Are you crazy? The Adele Mash-up is our strongest number. Not doing that will mean us loosing for sure. And just what are we supposed to replace it with?"

Brittany doesn't like the way she's advancing on Santana, and quickly says the first thing that pops into her head. "Adele's overrated. She just warbles. Who wants to hear that? We should totally do something new." Her rambling does the job of getting Mercedes to stop.

"Well you two had better come up with a new number and quick, because I'm not losing because we half assed the performance with a song we came up with at the eleventh hour. I had enough of that with New Directions." She points at Santana, then Brittany, before she turns and walks out. Sugar stares at them for a second, then goes after her. It feels like Sugar is always quick to avoid being alone with them lately.

Brittany waits until she hears the door slam closed and then turns to face Santana. "You do know we won't be able to come up with anything even half as awesome before the competition?" Brittany waits for her to explain her thinking here, but Santana stays silent, pretending to study her nails.

Brittany moves to sit down beside her on the piano stool. "Now I know I'm awesome at choreographing kick ass numbers, but this isn't giving me much time to work with, San." They'd decided on the three songs for their set list weeks ago, and unfortunately haven't been rehearsing much else, so Mercedes really isn't wrong that cutting the Adele song at this late stage will definitely screw them over.

Santana keeps her eyes fixed on the piano, seeming to give that some consideration at least, but then she shakes her head. "I can't get up on this stage and sing that song again, Britt. I just can't do it."

There goes all the rest of Brittany's free time before Sectionals then. "Okay. You got any ideas?"

Santana clearly doesn't have a clue. Not that Brittany has either, but then it wasn't her idea to make this last minute change. She'd hoped Santana would have had some kind of backup plan when she'd made this decision for the group, but apparently not.

Santana stands, and paces over to the other side of the stage, her arms wrapped around herself. "I'm sorry, Britt. I thought I could do it, but then when Sugar mentioned it today..."

"It's okay. We'll figure something out."

Santana doesn't seem convinced and keeps pacing. "I know it's just a song, and it's stupid, but even thinking about it..."

Brittany crosses over to her and places her hands on her arms to still her. "It's okay." She rests her forehead against hers. "I get it." She doesn't, not fully anyway, but it's enough to know that Santana doesn't want to do it, and that's much more important to her than them winning Sectionals. "We'll come up with something better than Adele."

The auditorium door opens again and they look up to find Mercedes marching back towards them, once again Sugar trailing after her. Mercedes stops in front of the stage. "Beyonce. If we're changing our game-plan at this late stage, then it'd better involve Beyonce."

Santana edges away from Brittany slightly, subtly trying to wipe her eyes. "What happened to it being left to me and Britts to do this alone?"

Mercedes glances back at Sugar. "I'm the leader of this group, so I'm responsible for what we do, and giving you free reign is just dangerous. Who knows what crazy ass idea you two would come up with. But I'm guessing it'd involve a solo for Satan and a twenty minute dance break for Brittany, while the rest of us wait in the wings. And I'm not about to let that happen. Whatever we do, it's a group number or nothing. And I think it's time to break out the Beyonce."

Now this is something Brittany can work with. "Old school Beyonce. It has to be old school Beyonce."

Santana seems to catch on. "Are we talking Destiny's Child?"

Brittany nods. "I know just the song."

"Will you sit down? You're making my head hurt."

Santana stops mid-pace and frowns at Brittany. When her girlfriend starts to pout though, she can only sigh and she throws herself down onto the sofa next to her. "Your parent's really didn't tell you what this is about?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Nope. All they said was they needed to talk to us."

It can't be anything good. Santana's pretty certain that you don't get summoned to meet with your girlfriend's parents unless you're in trouble. The thing is she can't think of anything she's done wrong lately. In fact ever since they found out about her and Brittany, she's been on her very best behavior. "This sucks." Santana folds her arms and slouches down in her seat. It's the waiting that makes it worse. The Pierces had asked her to come over straight after school, yet they've been hanging around for half an hour now and there's still no sign of either of Brittany's parents.

Brittany places a hand on her arm. "Relax, it's just my Mom and Dad."

That's exactly the problem. She might have known the Pierces for pretty much her entire life, but now she's dating their daughter, things are different. For a start She knows from past experiences that she's not the kind of girl parents want their child involved with. Puck's mother had hated her from the first time she met her, and she'd received her fair share of disapproving looks from Trouty's parents whenever they'd come home to find her in his room. She's determined to never have the same happen with Brittany's parents, she can't afford for it to. She's had enough outside influences interfere with her relationship with Brittany and she isn't about to let anything else screw this up for her. No, she's more than capable of doing that all by herself, thank you very much. "I don't like this, Britt."

"It'll be nothing. Stop worrying."

"I can't. I feel like Ben Stiller in Meet The Parents or something, which makes absolutely no sense because I've known your parents forever."

Brittany shifts closer to her, resting a hand on her thigh. "Maybe there's something I can do to stop you worrying." When Brittany's hand starts to move higher, Santana has a pretty good idea of just how Brittany's planning to do that.

Santana quickly glances over to the door, trying to decide how bad an idea this is. "Where's Irish?" The last thing she wants is for the Leprechaun to walk in on them. She could really do without giving him any images to keep himself warm at night.

"Dunno. Don't care." Brittany kneels up on the sofa, throwing one leg other Santana's so she's straddling her. She leans forward and captures Santana's mouth with her own. After a moment, she runs her tongue across Santana's bottom lip, not wasting any time to deepen the kiss when Santana opens her mouth to her.

Once Brittany's lips are on her neck, Santana forgets all about protesting against doing this here when they expect Brittany's parents home at any minute.

She's vaguely aware of a car door slamming shut, but by this point Brittany's hand has made its way under her shirt, so it doesn't really register. The front door opening and raised voices filling the house does though. Thankfully Brittany reacts with her usual super speed and scrambles out of Santana's lap, sliding over to the far side of the sofa. In seconds, she's the picture of innocence. Though Santana doubts the same could be said for her, and she quickly attempts to smooth down her top. And skirt. And fix her hair.

"But it's not fair. Everybody else's parents are letting them go." Ashley's whining about something as she stomps down the hallway. Santana looks over to Brittany, raising an eyebrow to ask what's going on.

Brittany just shrugs. She probably learned a long time ago not to get involved in her sister's dramas.

"Yeah, well, I'm not everybody else's parents, am I?" Jeff's trailing after his daughter, but he stops in the doorway when he notices them sitting on the sofa. He gives them a suspicious look, then turns his attention back to Ashley. "You're too young to be going to parties."

"But Dad..."

"No."

"You're just mean. I hate you." Santana hears Ashley run up the stairs, followed swiftly by the sound of her room door slamming shut.

Cathy sighs as she walks past Jeff and enters the living room.

Jeff follows after her. "You said you'd back me up on this."

Cathy nods a hello to Santana and Brittany, then turns to face her husband. "I didn't say anything."

"Exactly. You didn't say anything. You don't want her going anymore than I do, but once again you were quite content to let me be the bad guy." Jeff folds his arms and scowls at her.

Santana leans across to Brittany, and whispers, "Should we leave them to it?"

Brittany looks unsure, but then takes hold of Santana's hand and pulls her to her feet, leading her towards the door.

"And where are you two sneaking off to?" They turn to find Jeff frowning at them.

They both answer at the same time. "Nowhere."

He points towards the dining room. "Come on. We need to have a family meeting."

Santana starts to do as she's told, but Brittany stops her by placing an arm across her chest. "Since when do we have family meetings?"

"Since now." Jeff leads the way into the other room, giving them no choice but to follow him. Cathy places a hand on each of their shoulders as they pass her and walks behind them. Santana can't tell if the gesture is a show of support, or if she's making sure they don't run. Either way she takes it as a sign that this really can't be anything good.

Once they're all seated at the table, they all stare at Jeff, waiting for him to start. "Okay, so you're probably wondering why I asked you both here."

Cathy rolls her eyes. "Is that really how you're going to start this conversation?"

"If you can do better, then feel free to take over."

"Oh no. This was all your idea, don't look for any help from me."

"You're doing it again. We agreed on a united front here."

Santana feels Brittany take hold of her hand underneath the table, but she's not sure if Brittany's more worried about what this conversation will turn out to be about, or about hearing her parents argue like this. Santana doesn't think that arguments are a common occurrence in the Pierce household.

Cathy stands, and paces over to the other side of the room, where she leans against the wall. "Fine, lets just get this over with."

Jeff turns back to face them. "Okay, I think we need to have a discussion about the two of you. More specifically the two of you being alone together. More specifically being alone in Brittany's bedroom. Or on the sofa. Or actually being alone in any part of the house."

She was right about this not being about anything good.

Brittany's grip on her hand tightens. "What about it?"

Jeff rubs at the back of his head, no doubt knowing this isn't going to go well. "It's just that now you two are dating, we don't think..." Cathy scoffs, and he corrects himself, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with Santana behind any closed doors."

Brittany looks from Jeff to Cathy, and Santana can tell that she doesn't understand.

Cathy pinches the bridge of her nose, looking like this whole situation is causing her nothing but stress. "Brittany, I think what your father is trying to say is he doesn't want you and Santana having sex under his roof."

"Why?" Brittany looks like she's starting to panic at what this will mean for them, and her grip on Santana's hand is so tight she's pretty much cutting off all the circulation.

Cathy walks over to the table and pulls out a chair so she can sit beside her husband. "Yes, Jeff, why is that?"

As she sits though, he stands up. "Can I have a word with you in private?" He storms through into the kitchen, Cathy taking her time in going after him.

As soon as they've gone, Brittany turns to face her. "They can't do this, can they? Isn't it against our civil rights or something for them to try and stop us having sex?"

"I don't know." Santana can only shrug. "But Britt, you breaking my hand right now isn't going to help."

Brittany seems to realise just how much of a death grip she has on Santana's fingers and immediately lets go. "Sorry."

Santana starts rubbing her hand, trying to get some feeling back. "Are we supposed to wait here?"

Brittany is about to say something when she's cut off by Jeff's raised voice filtering through from the kitchen. "Don't do that. Don't try and make out that this is me being homophobic. You know it isn't anything of the sort."

Brittany jumps to her feet and moves through into the hallway. The kitchen door is ajar, and Brittany positions herself against it, clearly wanting to hear the full conversation. Santana hesitates, but quickly gives in and joins her.

"If Brittany had still been dating that Abrams kid, I wouldn't be letting him stay over either. It doesn't matter that Santana's a girl."

Cathy sighs. "But it should matter that Santana's Santana. She's been practically living here since she was a kid, and now all of a sudden you're going to ban her from sleeping in Brittany's room and expect them to be okay with that?"

Jeff seems to be getting more and more exasperated at the conversation goes on. "I'm not saying she can't stay over. I'm just not sure we should be allowing them to share a bed. Isn't that only encouraging them to have sex?"

"I don't think they need any encouragement, Jeff. They're teenagers. They're going to have sex. You're not going to be able to stop them, and I'd rather know where they are, than stay up worrying every night, waiting for Brittany to come home to know they're okay."

"Then we give her a curfew as well. No staying out past ten on a school night."

Brittany's eyes widen, and Santana can tell she's starting to get more upset as this conversation continues. Brittany isn't used to having rules to follow. Neither of them are. They've always been left to do as they pretty much please so this is new territory for them.

"Jeff, whatever we do, I don't want Santana to ever feel unwelcome in this house. You know how often her parents are away, and I don't like the thought of her being alone all the time. Especially as now she doesn't even have her grandmother to keep an eye on her."

Santana could have really done without Cathy reminding her of that right now.

"Then I'll clear out the spare room for her, but I don't think I'm being unreasonable here."

"Wait, you'd clear out the spare room?"

"Let's be honest, it's not like I ever use all that gym equipment that's in there."

"That's not what you said when we agreed to have Rory stay with us. You made him take the basement."

"Well yeah, but he's not family."

Santana edges away from the door, suddenly feeling like she really shouldn't be listening in on this conversation. She stops when she reaches the stairs, and sinks down onto the bottom step.

Brittany glances between her and the kitchen, then follows her, sitting beside her.

Brittany's parent's voices are only hushed whispers now. Santana slips her hand into Brittany's as they sit in silence, waiting for Jeff and Cathy to agree on their fate.

Eventually the door opens. Jeff appears, starts to walk towards the dining room where he left them, but stops when he spots them. He walks over to them, but doesn't speak until Cathy has joined them. "Okay, so I know you're not going to be happy about this, but I think it's time we laid down some ground-rules. For everyone's benefit." When he gets no response from either of them, he continues, "Santana, we're not trying to ban you from this house, but from now on we've agreed it'd be better if you sleep in the spare room. Also whenever the two of you are alone together in a room, especially a room with a bed in it, or a sofa, then we ask that the door remains open at all times."

Brittany takes a deep breath, then slowly lifts her head to meet her dad's gaze. "No."

"Excuse me?" Jeff clearly wasn't expecting that response. Neither was Santana if she's honest.

Brittany only shakes her head. "No. We don't agree to your terms."

Santana turns to face Brittany. "Wait, we don't?"

Brittany pulls her hand away from hers and folds her arms. "No." Now Brittany's the one that looks confused. "Why would we?"

Because they're not exactly being given a choice in the matter? Thankfully Jeff saves Santana from being the one to explain that to her. "Because this isn't optional, Brittany. This is what's going to happen."

"But it's not fair." Brittany tries the Pierce pout, but Santana gets the feeling it won't have any effect on Jeff right now.

"No, it's not fair, but while you're still seventeen and living in this house, I'm asking you to respect my decision." When Brittany doesn't argue with him any further, he walks back into the kitchen.

Brittany looks to Cathy. "Mom..."

"No, don't try even try that one. Your father's made his mind up on this. You'll just have to deal with it I'm afraid." She offers them a shrug then leaves.

Brittany rests her head in her hands. "This sucks."

Santana really can't argue with that.

Brittany stopped paying attention to the movie about five minutes after it started. She's pretty sure Santana isn't really watching it either, but she's still keeping her eyes fixed on the screen anyway. Though occasionally, Brittany will notice her glance anxiously over to the open bedroom door.

Brittany hates these stupid new rules already. All they're doing is watching a movie in her room, yet Santana is on edge and seems determined to keep as much distance between them as she can. She'd tried sitting in the desk chair at first, but Brittany had pouted until she'd joined her on the bed. However whilst Brittany is sitting propped up against the pillows, Santana is lying the opposite way completely, flat on her stomach, head resting in her hands. She's also lying as far away from Brittany as she possibly can, and is lying dangerously close to the edge of the bed.

Brittany sighs and shifts closer to Santana, who looks back over her shoulder at her, giving her a wary look. Something she's done every time Brittany has moved even slightly. When she seems satisfied that Brittany isn't up to anything, she turns back to the TV.

Santana's right leg keeps twitching, and it's starting to get a little annoying. Brittany isn't sure if it's just a nervous habit she simply hasn't noticed before, or if Santana's having muscle spasms or something. She doubts that her offering to give Santana a massage right now would go down well though. The leg jerks again and Brittany can't stop herself from reaching out and placing her hand on Santana's ankle.

She realises it's a mistake about a second too late, as Santana jerks away from her so violently that she ends up rolling off the bed completely. Santana hits the floor with a thud, followed by a stream of what Brittany guesses are Spanish curse words.

There's footsteps on the stairs, then her father appears in the doorway. He looks down at Santana who's still lying in a heap at the side of the bed, then over to Brittany, and frowns. "Everything okay here?"

Brittany shrugs, not really sure if it is or not with the strange way Santana is acting.

Santana sits up. "Fine, Mr P. We're not doing anything. Just watching a movie."

"Okay." Her father gives her a suspicious look, but does leave.

Santana makes no move to get up off the floor, instead she just glares up at her. "What the hell, Brittany?"

"I'm not even allowed to touch you now?" She doesn't remember that being part of the deal. The only thing her dad had said was no sex, right? And an open door policy. She would definitely have remembered if there had been something about her not even being able to touch Santana's ankle thrown in there.

Santana pulls herself to her feet, but doesn't rejoin her on the bed. Instead she walks over to the desk and throws herself down in the chair. "Since we've been up here, your dad has walked past your room like six times. And your mom twice."

Brittany had noticed they did seem to be making a lot of trips up and down the hallway, but she hadn't thought anything of it until now.

"They don't trust us. And Britt, I don't want to give them any reason to be right to think that, okay?"

"But they didn't say we weren't allowed to touch. Or anything about us kissing, just no sex." This is turning out to be even worse than she'd expected. "We've even left the stupid door open."

Santana rubs at her forehead. "I can't afford to screw this up. Your dad's already giving me those looks."

For once Brittany really doesn't understand what Santana is thinking here. "What looks?"

"Those looks that say, keep your hands off my daughter. It's like he knows if I'm even thinking about touching you, and he just keeps looking at me like he's plotting my death."

"Don't be silly. You're imagining it."

"Am I?" Santana leans forward in the chair. "I don't think I am. Because isn't that what parents are supposed to do? Protect their kids? Stop them from getting involved with the wrong people?"

"But you're not the wrong people. You're Santana." Brittany can see where this is going, and she needs to put a stop to it.

Santana sighs. "Forget it, okay? Just forget it. It doesn't matter."

Brittany slides off the bed and goes to kneel down in front of her. The minute she does though, Santana is on her feet and brushing past her, moving to the other side of the room. Brittany sighs and sits back on her heels. "Why are you freaking out every time I even come near you?"

"I'm not freaking out."

"Santana, if I even look at you, you act like I'm going to jump your bones."

"I don't."

"You do. It's like you don't trust me to be able to keep my hands off you. I am capable of controlling myself around you, you know? You're not that irresistible."

"That's not..." When Santana wraps her arms around herself and stares down at the floor, Brittany starts to realise she might just have said the wrong thing. "Maybe I should just go."

Brittany's being shut out. Again. Santana clearly doesn't want to share with her whatever is going on inside that head of hers and Brittany has no idea if this is one of those times she's allowed to push to find out or not. She decides to play it safe. "Maybe you should."

Santana's head snaps up, eyes wide. Clearly she'd been expecting Brittany to beg her to stay. "Well, okay then."

She makes a move for the door, but as she passes by, Brittany grabs her arm to stop her. She wants to at least give her the chance to explain. "Santana, why are you being like this?"

Santana won't look at her, just instead keeps her eyes on the door. She's biting her bottom lip, her fists clenched. Brittany moves so she's kneeling in front of her once more, placing her hands on her waist, her thumbs dipping under fabric so they can trace patterns over Santana's hipbones. Now Santana looks down at her, her eyes dark and oh, Brittany knows that look. That's Santana's I need to take you right here, right now look. Normally she loves being on the receiving end of that look. It always leads to insanely hot sex, but now they have these insanely stupid new rules, and maybe now she's suddenly realising why Santana didn't want her too close to her. She knows she needs to move her hands away. Maybe not staring into Santana's eyes might be a help as well. But typically her body isn't listening to her. Oh, they're in trouble, really big trouble. Her only hope is that her parents will understand, that they can't really expect them to quit cold turkey.

Her hands are sliding lower without her even telling them to, sliding down underneath Santana's skirt.

There's footsteps on the stairs and it's enough to make them both move. Brittany scrambles to her feet and sits in the chair, Santana sinking down onto the bed. Her dad does slow down as he walks past her room, but he thankfully doesn't stop this time.

Brittany's more worried right now about the fact that Santana seems to be rocking slightly. "Is he like psychic or something? God, he's going to kill me, isn't he? He's going to walk in on us and he's going to kill me."

Brittany slowly climbs to her feet, trying not to spook her. "Santana?"

Santana springs to her feet. "I should go."

This time Brittany doesn't try to stop her. Instead she just walks over to her bed and drops down onto her back. She can't have been lying there for more than a few minutes when there's a knock on her door. She's only slightly thankful to look up to find her mom hovering there. "Has Santana gone home?"

Brittany doesn't bother to answer her.

Her mom enters the room and sits down on the edge of the bed. "Did you two have a fight?"

Brittany nods. "It's all your fault."

Her mom doesn't look surprised to hear that. "What happened?"

"Santana thinks Dad's going to kill her."

Now her mom looks surprised. "What? That's ridiculous. Why would she think that?"

"Because she wants to have sex with me. And he doesn't want her to."

And now her mom looks like she wishes she'd never asked. "Brittany, your father is not planning to murder your girlfriend."

"I know that." Brittany frowns at her. "But Santana doesn't."

"I'm sure she doesn't really think..."

"You don't understand. None of you understand. You don't get how hard it is to stop Santana freaking out over things like this. How hard it is to stop her thinking that she isn't good enough for me. Then you go and tell her you don't want us being together. It isn't right for you to do that to her."

"Brittany Susan Pierce." Brittany flinches a little at her mom's tone and use of her full name. "We have done nothing to suggest we don't want you dating Santana. In fact when have we ever treated that girl as anything other than part of this family? Don't think I don't know that this is just your way of guilting us into letting you do whatever you want all the time."

Brittany stays silent, knowing her mom might just have a point there.

"Look, I'll talk to your dad, and tell him he needs to assure Santana that he isn't plotting her death, but sorry, you need to stick to the rules, kiddo."

Brittany sighs as her mom leaves. She'd have less of a problem with that if the rules didn't suck quite so much.

Santana's so used to nobody being home that she slams the front door closed without even thinking about it. She's only made it half way up the stairs when her mother appears from the kitchen, a scowl fixed on her face. "Santana?"

Santana stops, she doesn't dare not to. "Hey, Mami." She hopes any conversation will be kept brief, like it usually is.

"Is there a reason you tried to break the front door when entering the house?"

The smart thing to do here is apologise, and make a hasty exit. "It's an ugly ass door. Would it be a real loss if it did happen to get damaged?"

"Okay, what's wrong?"

She'd expected her mother to loose her temper with her, so she's a little thrown by the question. "Nothing."

"Mija, when you start destroying the house, then it would suggest otherwise."

"It's nothing. Just girl trouble."

And now her mother looks a little uncomfortable. "Oh."

"It's nothing." She carries on up the stairs, making a beeline for her room, thankful that her mother doesn't try to stop her. Once inside, she closes the door, without slamming this one. There's no need to attract any more of her mother's attention now she's been able to escape. She throws herself down on her bed, and buries her head in the pillows. "Stupid, so fucking stupid." She wishes she knew just how she's managed to screw everything up like this. One thing. One thing Brittany's parents have ever asked of her, don't have sex with their daughter in their house and she couldn't even go one day without wanting to do just that.

A knock on her bedroom door gets her hopes up for a minute, until she realises that even if Brittany had followed her back here, she would never knock, would just instead barge into her room like always. "What?"

The door opens and her mother hovers in the doorway. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Santana slowly lifts her head up to stare at her mother. "Do I want to talk about it?" She's not sure she understands the question.

Her mother shuffles from one foot to the other. "I just thought that maybe you'd want to talk about it."

"To you?" Santana sits up and frowns.

"Or your father will be home soon if you'd prefer. He might be more help than me on this particular subject."

Santana somehow doubts that. "I'm good, really."

Unfortunately her mother doesn't take that as a hint to leave. "Santana, listen, we've been talking, your father and I, and well, if you feel like you want to see someone, it'd be understandable after everything you've been through. And we'd arrange that, if you wanted."

She doesn't like where this is going. "See someone as in?"

"As in a therapist."

"You think I need therapy?" She can't keep the anger out of her voice, and it's enough to make her mother take a step backwards.

"Not need it, no, but if you wanted someone you could talk all this through with, I'm just saying we'd pay for it."

Santana can only stare at her mother in disbelief. Does she really think she'd ever want to discuss her personal life with a complete stranger?

"Your father thinks you might find it helpful. We've discussed it several times in the past, but I never thought you'd agree to it. Now I just want you to know you have that option available to you."

"Well, gee thanks. It's good to know." Santana's really not sure what else she's supposed to say to finding out her parents think she needs to see a psychiatrist, and possibly have done for some time.

Her mother shakes her head. "I'm trying here, Santana. I am trying. You dumped something this huge on us, then you ran and hid at the Pierces."

"I didn't..."

"Santana, you did. You've made it very clear that you have no interest in discussing any of this with us." Her mother rubs at her forehead. "And are you ever going to tell us what happened with your Abuela? Because all she'll say on the matter is that she has no granddaughter."

That doesn't come as a surprise to Santana, but it still hurts to hear the words said out loud. "There's nothing to say then, is there?"

Her mother sighs. "I guess not."

Santana wishes there was, wishes that she did feel like she could talk to them. It's not like she hasn't tried lately, but every time she works up the nerve to say something, they're always busy, or her mind goes blank on her, leaving her not knowing what to say.

Her mother starts to leave, but then turns back to her. "Just as long as you know, that we are here, if you do ever need to talk to us. About anything. We might not always understand, but we will always listen, Santana."

She doesn't answer her, again not knowing what to say. She's starting to realise that maybe this is her mother's way of making an effort. That maybe it needs to be baby steps if she ever wants some kind of relationship with them. "It's Sectionals this week."

Her mother frowns. "Cheerleading or your choir?"

"Cheerleading sectionals were last month, remember?" Of course her mother doesn't remember, because once again neither of her parents attended. "I thought maybe you'd come this time." Her mother looks guilty and Santana takes that as a no. "It's cool if you don't want to. Not like it's a big deal or anything. It's only sectionals."

"It's not that I don't want to, but we're flying out to Seattle tomorrow. Your father is speaking at a conference on Friday."

It was nice of them to take the time to inform her of their trip this time at least, instead of leaving her a note like usual. "Like I said it's no big deal."

"Okay." Her mother hesitates for a moment, but then leaves, closing the door behind her.

Santana grabs her phone to call Brittany, but stops herself before hitting dial. She's about to put her phone back down, but then instead types out a quick text instead and hits send.

I love you.

She crawls under the covers, still clutching her cell. She doesn't have to wait long until it buzzes in response.

I love you too, Santana.