Are you guys happy now? There I was, trying to work on finishing up the next chapter of Sing It Stronger when you guys reviewed with such hopeful voices that I would update this soon. This is all your fault.

Just kidding. It's only partly your fault.

I just hope it won't be confusing writing two different times in one timeline (even if this story is AU).

Note: there was a time jump between this chapter and the last one.

Santana couldn't concentrate on the routine. Eyes on Quinn but staring through her, she was barely putting the effort in to learning the new moves. It wasn't until the blonde was two feet away and walking closer that Santana realized that everyone was leaving. Not feeling as physically sore as she normally did after one of Quinn's practices, she sighed, knowing what that meant.

"Do you even want to be a Cheerio anymore?" Quinn asked the second they were within talking distance.

Did she? Yes. She needed the guaranteed scholarship so she could follow Rachel wherever she went. "Haven't you ever had PMS?" she asked tiredly, accepting the towel Quinn tossed at her, "I'll be back to normal next practice."

Quinn shook her head. "That's what you said last time, and the time before. You're slipping, Santana, and Sue's beginning to notice."

Santana paused, closing her eyes. Not good. She had to shape up or else. "Thanks," she mumbled, mortifyingly starting to feel the tears that had been threatening too often lately put pressure on the back of her eyes. Bringing the towel up to her face, she used it as a distraction to wipe the moisture away, then turned on her heel to head for her gym bag she'd tossed at the nearest bench earlier. She hadn't exercised enough to warrant a shower, and she knew Rachel was waiting for her at the doctor's office, probably scared out of her mind. It was her first ultrasound, right in the middle of her seventh week, and it would make everything real.

It terrified and excited Santana at the same time.

"Hey. Is everything okay with you and Rachel?" Quinn fell in step with her, studying her with a concerned expression on her face; it was softer than her earlier glare, and it made Santana remember just how good of friends they were.

But Santana couldn't say anything yet. So, instead, she met Quinn's gaze, hoping her panic was hidden behind a normal, practiced scowl. "Of course we are. Why?"

Quinn frowned, studying her intently. "It just seems like you guys have been… Really stressed out lately. And Rachel's not singing as much in glee. I'd say you weren't, either, but you've never been a big player in the first place."

Looking down at her gym bag, Santana stooped down to pick it up, slinging it over her shoulder. "We're fine. It's just… Family stuff." Oh, how true that was.

"But aren't both your parents supportive?"

"Not that kind of family stuff. Look." Taking her cell phone out of a side pocket, she took note of the time as she clicked open the image text Rachel had sent her. Smiling at the picture of Rachel hugging Santana's childhood teddy and her own childhood plush star close to her chest, Santana's mind wandered momentarily to if their unborn child would be a blanket or plushie lover. Realizing Quinn was still waiting for her to finish, she sighed and stashed the phone away again, along with the towel she really hadn't had to use, "Rachel's waiting for me. We can face time later."

Quinn blew air out of her mouth. "I'll hold you to that promise," she warned, taking a step back to give Santana space to pass by her.

"Wouldn't expect you not to." Nodding a goodbye, Santana shouldered her gym bag closer to her body, taking off jogging in the direction of the juniors' parking lot.

Quinn was smart, and having already experienced pregnancy and childbirth, it probably wouldn't be long until she figured out what was going on. It wasn't obvious, but if you looked for it, you'd be able to see that something had changed. Though Rachel was lucky to not be experiencing any severe symptoms of morning sickness, and she wasn't starting to show yet, she'd already brought two cheese sandwiches to school, with more planned. Having actually gotten into a fight with Rachel over not giving in to her cravings if they weren't vegan, it hadn't been until Santana told her that she was having cravings for a reason, and it was probably what the baby wanted to grow strong and healthy (no matter if it was a huge piece of chocolate cake), that her girlfriend had caved in, snatching the plate of bacon and eggs Santana had been planning to eat away from her. Shoveling them happily into her mouth even as she was tearing up over the lost lives, Rachel, at that moment in time, had made Santana fall in love with her all over; not a bad trade off for lost food.

Jumping into her car, Santana paused before automatically inserting the key into the ignition. Fishing for her phone again, she reopened the newest picture. Setting it as her background, she smiled affectionately, tracing her thumb down Rachel's cheek. Then, attaching her phone to the phone dock and turning on her Bluetooth, she turned her car on, pulled out of her parking spot, and called Rachel to tell her she'd be at Dr. Wu's office within ten minutes.

"Hey," she settled into the chair next to Rachel, kissing her cheek in greeting, "They going to actually let us in on time?" While the waiting room wasn't full, there were still a lot of women and their partners scattered around. Depending on how backed up they were, Santana was prepared to go into her 'my father is a doctor, a real doctor' spiel, adlibbing whatever sounded best at the moment.

When Rachel lowered the magazine she'd been nervously flipping through, the oddest determined-apprehensive-relieved-afraid expression on her face Santana had ever seen, the smaller brunette automatically leaned into Santana's side, urging Santana to slide her arm around her shoulders. "I think so," she swallowed, setting the magazine down to take Santana's unoccupied hand, lacing their fingers together on her knee, "But we still have ten minutes. You didn't shower?"

Santana made an affronted face at her. "You saying I stink?"

"No," Rachel snuggled closer, pitching her voice lower, "I like the way you smell." A light blush rose on her cheeks. "I just meant that you don't smell like shampoo, and your hair's not wet."

Santana grinned. "Well, thank you. I like the way you smell, too." She paused for dramatic effect. "Especially when we're in bed."

Rachel's fingernails dug into her palm, and she sucked in a sudden, thick breath. "Not here," she hissed through a wide fake smile, glaring darkened eyes up at her.

Chuckling, Santana dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "Not gonna apologize. I only speak truths. Now," she raised her head, looking around the waiting room, "You wanna try figuring out how many women in here are pregnant with lizard babies?"

Without missing a beat even while rolling her eyes, Rachel drawled, "Four. The woman in the corner reading the National Geographic, which I happen to know for a fact has a rather lengthy article on reptiles. Then there's the woman with the guy wearing a lumberjack hat; he looks too much like a lizard to be coincidental. And over there – that lady's been continually flicking her tongue in and out of her mouth, which is quite distracting."

Whoah. The lady was. Shaking her head, Santana arched her eyebrow. "And the last one?"

Rachel frowned. "The woman sitting under the painting to our right."

"Why her?"

"Because," the small girl shifted, sinking even closer into Santana's body, "When I first got here, she kept on sending me these uncomfortable pitying looks. It was incredibly rude."

Santana looked up. Finding the woman now having what was undoubtedly a disgusted look on her face, Santana glared at her, lifting her head proudly. Wrapping her arm tighter around Rachel's shoulders, she dared the woman to do something.

Rachel squeezed her hand, "Please don't."

"Don't what?"

Brown eyes gave her a knowing look. "Be all sweet and chivalrous by bitching her out." Smiling affectionately, Rachel disengaged her hand to reach up and cup Santana's cheek. Drawing her into a soft, gentle kiss that made Santana's toes curl, she moved back just far enough to give her a glowing, loving smile, "In the long run, she doesn't mean anything to us."

Santana closed her eyes, dropping her forehead to rest it against Rachel's. "You just don't want to risk me getting kicked out," she teased, pecking Rachel's nose.

"That too," Rachel agreed, Santana insanely proud of the happy smile on her girlfriend's face. Any time Rachel was smiling was a win in her book. Too many tears had been shed, and would be shed, so the longer they were away, the better it was.

Settling back into her original position and letting out a soft contented noise, Rachel started playing with Santana's fingers. "Mmm… How was practice?" she asked, leaning her head back into Santana's shoulder.

Santana shivered, curling and opening her fingers in tandem with Rachel's. "It was," she answered neutrally, fighting the urge to shift and give herself away. "Oh, hey, loved the picture you sent." A real smile crossed her lips.

"Yeah?"

Rachel was too adorable. "Yeah. In fact…" Santana rested her chin on Rachel's head, just enjoying being with her, "I set it as my background."

"You did not." No matter what she'd said, Santana knew her girlfriend was pleased. "I've sent you much better pictures."

"Pshh." Discarding that statement, Santana tightened her hug. "I love those too, but this one… It was adorable. Brittany took it didn't she?"

Rachel smiled. "How did you know?"

Because it was a picture Brittany would have been happy to take. Because Brittany had stayed home sick that day, which meant that she'd inevitably end up wandering over to Santana's house, where Rachel would have been to babysit Santana's baby sister for an hour until Andrea, Santana's mother, got off work. Or because Santana was just that awesome.

But before she could answer out loud, a friendly, peppy female voice called out, "Rachel?"

Santana's heart thumped. This was it.

Rachel sucked in a deep breath, then slowly stood up, keeping her hold on Santana's hand so she rose with her. But before she could start towards the nurse waiting for them, Santana put her other hand out, stopping her. "Hey," she whispered, studying Rachel's eyes seriously, "I love you."

A wide smile spread over Rachel's face, and she nodded, taking a step forward to brush her lips along Santana's cheek. "I love you too," she whispered back, eyes bright. Then, squeezing Santana's hand, she turned back around. Markedly more confident than before, Rachel tugged Santana behind her; smiling proudly, hiding the anxiety she could feel creeping into her body, Santana followed her girlfriend down the hall and into the examining room.

"See? I'm keeping my promise to make this as painless as possible." the chipper nurse, Brandi, smiled at them as she lifted her pen to the file in her hand, "Just a few more questions to finish up, and then we'll be all ready to get Dr. Wu. Now." She turned her attention to Rachel, "Is this your first pregnancy?"

Rachel stared at the nurse like she was a deer in the headlights, then flicked her gaze over to Santana. She nodded stiffly. "Yes."

Santana tried to give her a supportive smile, but it was hard to do with the heaviness spreading out through her chest. She was going to be sick. Devastatingly, ecstatically, sick.

"Alright. And you believe you're about seven weeks along?"

"Yes. But I still want to make sure. I did some research on the internet, and many of the baby sites recommended scheduling an appointment around seven weeks after you first notice… Uhm…" Rachel looked down, "Notice."

"Okay, great. That's good." Nodding, Brandi scribbled down some notes, then looked up. "I have to make sure you know this, but you are aware we can't find out the gender of the baby yet?"

Finding out the gender… Santana hadn't even thought about that. Not really. She and Rachel had just been so caught up in trying to figure out their future and how to tell their parents and how they were going to deal with the childbirth and aftermath. But to have a little boy with Rachel's features and Santana's temperament… Or little girl who took after Rachel in a little Santana Mini-Me body… Or twins who were equally split…

Oh god. Twins. Or more.

Rachel squeezed her hand, bringing her back into the conversation. "Yes…" her girlfriend nodded, smiling at Santana as if she knew what had been running through her head, "We're aware."

Santana blinked, but fixed a confident expression on her face. "Yes."

"Mmkay. Just didn't want to disappoint you." Brandi, watching the two of them, only smiled when Santana stared pointedly at her. However, when her expression sobered a little, Santana started to feel a sense of dread run down her back. "These questions are going to be a little… Personal, but please believe me: it's only with the health of you and your child in mind."

Rachel sat up a little straighter. "Oh-okay."

Brandi lowered Rachel's file, balancing it on her lap, dropping the pen on top of it. She smiled gently, "Do you know who the father of your child is?"

Pain flared in Santana's chest. 'Me,' she wanted to yell out, 'It's me, and I'm here for her. I'm supporting her, and I'll always be here for her.'

Rachel bit her lip. "Yes," she answered confidently, looking away from the nurse to give Santana a comforting smile, "And… He's… In my life."

God. Santana loved Rachel so much. Mouthing, 'Love you,', Santana knew she was grinning stupidly when Rachel mouthed it back. Even though she and Rachel were probably confusing the nurse, she didn't care. It wasn't any of her fucking business, anyway.

"Is he also a minor?"

A little surprised by the question, Santana looked away from Rachel to look at Brandi again. Realizing she had her attention on the file, seemingly giving Santana and Rachel some privacy, Santana's opinion of her rose.

"Yes. He's seventeen." It was only because she was looking for it that Santana could hear the slight pauses before the male pronouns in her speech. She sighed.

The nurse scrawled another note. "Okay, so no legal problems… Do you know any of his health or family history? If there's a predisposition towards a certain disease or disorder, or things like that, it would be helpful to know while scheduling some screening tests later."

Disease. Disorder. Did what she was count? Santana's stomach fell. What kind of complications should she and Rachel be thinking about possibly needing to look or prepare for? Would it be dangerous?

Before she could come up with something to say, Rachel was answering the question, "Not at this time, no. But I should have some more information by the next appointment."

"…Alright, that should do it. Thank you." Clipping her pen into her breast pocket, Brandi stood up. With another cheery smile, she slipped the file under her arm and walked over to the door, slipping out with a promised, "Dr. Wu should be in shortly."

"Thank you," Rachel called after her. Then, as soon as the door clicked shut, she swiveled so her legs hung off the side of the examination chair. "Come here."

Raising her eyebrows, Santana stood up. "I'm here," she feigned ignorance.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "No you're not. Come here," she pointed at the floor right under her, her expression turning into a shy smile. "I want a hug."

Santana sighed, shaking her head. Taking a step forward, she slid her arms around Rachel's sides. "You're a tyrant," she complained, pressing a kiss against Rachel's forehead.

"The worst," Rachel agreed, "What are you going to do with me?" She snuggled into Santana's neck, her breath making goosebumps pop up as her arms settled around Santana's sides as well.

Feeling warm, Santana smiled. "Wait until we get back to my house," she promised. Her girlfriend felt and smelled so good…

Rachel sighed happily. Then, "Can we go get some more bacon first?"