Author's Note: Hello lovely people! I hope you all enjoy this exceedingly long chapter...I considered dividing it into two, but eventually decided against it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and as always, your reviews, story alerts, favorite stories, and all that jazz really brighten my day. So, thank you all for reading and reviewing!

"Mmmm," Brittany cooed into Santana's hair. She traced lines up and down her wife's arm. "I love it when you come home from work early. Santana kissed the space between Brittany's breasts.

"I love it when I come home early and find you all sweaty in your dance clothes."

"I love it when you come home early and the babies are conveniently taking a super long nap." Santana's forehead scrunched. "What time did you say they went down for their nap?"

"3:30." Brittany said.

"It's 6, Britt. Since when do they sleep this long during the day?"

"You worry too much. We would have heard them if they were up," Brittany said sleepily, kissing Santana's head, and gesturing over to their baby monitor. "I don't even want to know what you're going to be like when they start walking…or when they're teenagers…"

"I'm just gonna check on them, okay?" Brittany groaned as Santana got up and threw on a white tank top and old cheerleading shorts.

Santana walked down the hall and opened the door to her children's room. She was surprised by what she found.

"Berry!" Rachel sat on the ground playing with wooden blocks while Nico and Olivia crawled on the ground around her.

"Oh, hello, Santana."

"Um…not to be rude, but what are you doing here?," Santana crossed her arms over her chest. "Have you done something terrible to my children? Are you stalking me?" Santana quickly picked up Nico and inspected him.

""What! No! Brittany invited me over for dinner before we went out, and I was at a loss for what to do with the rest of my day, so I thought I'd come by and see if she needed any help preparing. I knocked a few times, but no one answered, so I used the spare key to let myself in."

"Why do you know where my spare key is?" Santana asked, now inspecting Olivia.

"Brittany told me. I think Brittany's told everyone…she was really worried she'd forget…anyway, I let myself in, and I called your names, but no one answered, but once I got to the kitchen I heard that you guys…were…well, you know…busy…"

"Berry, we're thirty. You can say it. Hav-ing sex." Santana said it like she was sounding the words out for a five-year-old. Rachel glared at her.

"So then I checked on the babies, and they were awake, staring at each other in their cribs just saying 'boobs' back and forth, which I thought was odd…" Santana rolled her eyes, but internally was thinking that she might have to actually consider cleaning up her language. She was pretty sure the only words her children could say so far were ma, mama, hi, milk, boobs, and panties. "So, I turned off the monitor, thinking that new parents could always use some more 'alone' time and we've been playing with blocks ever since.

"Baby, are they up?" Brittany's voice could be heard down the hall, still sounding a little sleepy, and a little husky, and very sexy. Santana tried to push those thoughts from her mind. "Because people are coming to dinner and I should—hey, Rachel!" Brittany said as she entered the room, waving excitedly at her. Santana smirked. Brittany had put on a very see through tank top and panties, but hadn't even bothered with pants.

"Hey, Britt." Rachel said, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

"I didn't know you were here!"

"I let myself in… while you were…you know…" Brittany giggled.

"I'm gonna put on some clothes, but then do you want to help me with dinner?" Rachel just nodded as Brittany skipped out of the room.

"Do you need help getting your jaw off the floor, Berry, or do you think you can handle it on your own?" Santana asked. Rachel turned bright red.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Santana." Santana laughed.

"Based on that blush you have going right now, I'd say you know exactly what I'm talking about. So let's get that jaw back in its place, because that's my wife."

"I was just surprised at her being practically naked…"

"Mmhmm." She winked at Rachel, unable to hide her sarcasm even, in a sound. "Now you see why I brag every time I get to tap that…"

"You're gross. I'm going to the kitchen to help Brittany with dinner." Rachel left. Santana scooped both of her children under an arm and headed to the kitchen herself.

"Not my fault your mom's so bangin', is it?" She posed the hypothetical question to the babies as she walked. "Ugh…please don't pick up the word 'bangin'…" To her relief, a long stream of "mama" back and forth was all that they heard for the rest of the night. She may have heard "boobs" thrown in, once and awhile, but she wasn't about to bring that to the attention of the rest of the group.

Puck showed up at 9:50. Santana, Brittany, and Rachel were still putting the finishing touches on their outfits for the night when they heard Mercedes and James let him in.

"I swear," Santana said, "strip clubs are the only thing that man shows up on time for…" as she clasped the buckle on her shoe. A few minutes later there was a bang on the door.

"Lesbos! Let's go!"

"Hold the…duck…up, Puckerman!" Santana yelled.

"I don't even know what that was, Lopez," Puck yelled through the door. "Already today you admitted that you weren't allowed to do something," Brittany smirked, "and now you're censoring yourself? I thought the epitome of your being whipped was the day you got married, but you're really putting that to shame…" Brittany opened the door.

"It's Pierce-Lopez now, Puck. Santana Pierce-Lopez. That should explain some things to you," Brittany said, as she walked out the door past Puck. Santana followed after her.

"And our kids have said both 'panties' and 'boobs' today so I'm trying to clean up my language, okay?" Santana said defensively as she walked through the door.

"One: they obviously take after you. Two: what the h-e double hockey sticks are you doing around here that they learned 'boobs' and 'panties'?" Puck asked. Rachel was the last to exit the room, shutting the door behind her.

"You have no idea," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm praying that means that I missed some threesome action," Puck said, smirking.

"Puck!" All three said at once.

"You're disgusting," Rachel said.

"I don't know why I agreed to go out with you tonight," Santana said.

"I don't know why you're friends with him," Brittany said, looking at Santana.

"Oh, come on, ladies! We're going to have an amazing time!" All three rolled their eyes.

It took Santana twenty minutes to go over all of the emergency contact information and the bedtime routine for the twins with Mercedes and James, but, eventually they had all piled into Puck's car and made it to Jumbo's. Santana clutched tightly to Brittany's hand as Puck led them over to the VIP section.

"I hate it here," Santana whispered into Brittany's ear.

"I know you do, baby," Brittany looked apologetically at Santana. As soon as they sat at one of the tall tables with clown faces painted in the middle, a waitress dressed in just a bra and underwear was at their table.

"Welcome back, Mr. Puckerman!" She said, seductively.

"Why thank you, Chastity. You're a sight for sore eyes," Puck winked at her and Santana rolled her eyes. "I think we'll start off tonight with two rounds of Patron and Stella's for all." The waitress nodded and left the table.

"I don't think I can handle all of that at once, Noah," Rachel said, a look of fear crossing her face. "Plus, you know alcohol can severely damage your vocal chords…"

"Oh, come on, Rach, live a little! We never do stuff like this…" The waitress returned with their drinks. Puck raised his shot glass in the air and gestured for everyone else to follow suit. "To Brittany and Santana, and their return to adulthood!" They all clinked their glasses and threw back the shots. Brittany and Rachel scrunched their noses as the tequila his their throats. After she had swallowed, Rachel chugged half her beer in an attempt to get the tequila taste out of her mouth. Puck picked up his second shot. "To Brittany Pierce-Lopez, the only human on earth known to tame the fierce, the bad-ass, Santana Pierce-Lopez!" Everyone raised their shots. Well, everyone except Brittany, who was staring at a Latina girl with long dark hair who was slowly twisting her way down the pole on stage. Santana lightly punched her in the arm.

"Britt!"

"Sorry…" Brittany said sheepishly, turning a little red. "I was just admiring her…dance moves…" Puck laughed.

"She looks a little like Santana in high school, huh, Britt?" He winked.

"What do you mean in high school, Puckerman? I still look that good," Santana said and Brittany nodded.

"Well, how should I know? I haven't seen that much of you since high school…" Brittany punched Puck in the arm. It was not light. "Jesus, Britt, where'd you get those guns?" Brittany shrugged and they threw back their second round of shots.

"San…"Brittany whispered over to Santana, "you're hurting my hand." Santana parted her eyes from the creepy clown doll sitting at the bar and looked over at her wife.

"I'm sorry, baby." Santana said sheepishly, looking at her lap and releasing her grip on Brittany's hand very slightly. "I don't like all these clowns." Brittany couldn't help but look at Santana amused. "I think the only way I get through these nights is the Puckerman way…I have to go to the bar." Brittany rolled her eyes.

"You're going to regret it in the morning," Brittany whispered to her.

"SEE!" Puck said, interrupting their conversation. "This is why you don't bring your wife to a strip club. You're not supposed to be whispering to each other! You're supposed to be taking in all the half-naked eye candy!" Santana scowled at Puck.

"I hate it here, you know that. I'm going to the bar." Santana sauntered off.

"She just really doesn't like clowns…" Brittany said, apologetically.

Santana took a seat at the bar, briefly wondering why she puts herself through these nights at Jumbo's Clown Room again and again.

"What can I get for you, baby?" The bartender leaned over the bar at her.

"Three shots of Patron on Puckerman's tab and a promise to never call me baby again," Santana said scowling. He rolled his eyes, but showed up a minute later with three shots and three lime wedges. Santana immediately threw back all three drinks.

"Take it easy there, slugger." Santana turned to the blond who had just sidled up next to her. She couldn't help but be taken aback. This woman was gorgeous. She was obviously one of the dancers; all she was wearing was a black lace bra, matching panties, and fishnets held up with garters. She had shoulder length blond hair and striking hazel-green eyes. "Dustin," the woman said, facing the bartender now, "get me two more shots of whatever she's having." He poured out two shots of Patron and handed them to her. She pushed one over towards Santana.

"I think I may have had enough for now…" Santana said, smiling at the woman. "I just really don't like clowns…"

"But I really like you…" the woman said, seductively. "Please, my treat." Santana smiled and they clinked their glasses together before taking the shot. The woman leaned in close to Santana.

"Let me give you a private dance later…on the house…" she breathed into Santana's ear. Santana didn't know what to say, so instead she just flashed the woman her left hand, showing off her wedding ring. "Well," the woman said, "what the hubby doesn't know can't hurt him."

"But the wifey who's right there will definitely be hurt." Santana gestured over to Brittany, her eyes narrowing. That little Latina teenager from the stage now topless and practically in Brittany's lap.

"It obviously doesn't bother wifey at all…" Santana now glared at the woman next to her.

"I have to go," was all Santana could muster.

"I'm Naomi, by the way," the woman said as Santana turned to leave.

"Santana." Santana said as she walked away.

"Brit!" Santana said, as she got to the table.

"Yeah?" Brittany asked, glancing over at Santana with a goofy grin on her face and quickly turned back to dancer in front of her.

"Brittany Susan Pierce-Lopez." Brittany turned to look at Santana again.

"Yeah? Why'd you say my full name?" Brittany returned her gaze to the naked boobs in front of her.

"Because you're my wife and you currently are staring at someone else's naked boobs!" The dancer stopped moving.

"We're at a strip club," Brittany said, deadpan. "And how many times do I have to tell you, San, looking is not cheating." Brittany turned back to the stripper on her lap, who continued dancing, but was now looking a little nervous under Santana's glare. Finally Santana rolled her eyes and walked back to the bar.

"One more and a Stella," she said quickly to the bartender who quickly returned with her drinks. She threw back the shot and began to nurse her beer. The dreaded lap dance had finally ended and now the three at the table were laughing and occasionally looking up at the stage. The stripper she talked to earlier, Naomi, was now doing a seductive dance around the pole. Santana looked back at the table. Brittany and Puck were laughing, but Rachel was now completely focused on the dancer. Santana smirked and decided to rejoin the group.

"Done with mini-me, B?" Santana said, sliding onto the chair next to her wife. Brittany smirked.

"You're hotter, San," Brittany said, looking over at her wife. "Besides, I don't see why you and Puck always get to have all of the fun…"

"Santana never gets a lap dance though, Britt," Puck interjected, without taking his eyes away from the stage.

"Really?" Brittany looked over at Santana who shook her head but kept her eyes down in her lap.

"Why would I get a lap dance?" Santana said softly. "I go home to the most beautiful, perfect, amazing dancer every night…" she said, her words only slightly slurring from all the alcohol she'd consumed in the last hour. Brittany looked like she was going to burst from happiness. Brittany cupped Santana's cheek.

"And I come home to the most beautiful, perfect Latina woman every night. Who looks exactly like she did when she was seventeen," Brittany lightly kissed Santana's lips. "I only got the dance because she offered and I felt bad saying no…I didn't want her to get sad…" Brittany said, kissing Santana again.

"You're cute," Santana said.

"Not as cute as you," Brittany said, kissing her wife's lips a third time.

"ENOUGH," Puck yelled, slamming his beer on the table. He signaled to the cocktail waitress that they were ready for another round. "I did not come to my favorite strip bar so I could watch you two being all gross and lovey-dovey!" Santana looked down, embarrassed again, and Brittany laughed. "So…can we please refocus our attention to the amazingly hot naked girls dancing on stage?" All three looked at the stage where Naomi was still dancing. Santana noticed it again. After all of that noise, Rachel still hadn't removed her attention from the stage. The waitress brought their drinks, and Puck was holding his in the air, waiting for the other three to follow suit.

"Earth to Berry!" Santana said, receiving no response from Rachel. She tapped her shoulder. Rachel turned to look at Santana, her eyebrows raised, waiting for the Latina woman to ask her a question. Santana smirked.

"I just wanted to let you know that there was a line of drool hanging on your face. Oh, and it's time for more drinks." Rachel didn't say anything, she just nodded, took her shot without the rest of the group, took a swig of beer, and then returned her focus back to the stage. The other three gaped on.

"Okay," said Puck, "I guess we're on our own…"

"I got this one Puck," Santana raised her glass. "To Rachel Fucking Berry, being a giant lesbian." They all threw back their shots.

"I'm not a lesbian," Rachel said, finally turning back to the group.

"Well, that blush on your face would beg to differ," Santana said. The flush on Rachel's face deepened.

"What? So what, I may have dabbled a bit in college," Rachel said, her voice husky and slightly slurred from all the alcohol. "I mean, who didn't? But that hardly qualifies me as a lesbian."

"And high school," Brittany pointed out.

"Excuse me?" Rachel said.

"You dabbled in high school, too." Brittany clarified. Santana and Puck smirked.

"What makes you think I was ever with a woman in high school?" Rachel asked nervously.

"Drunk-face Quinn told us all about it at our wedding reception," Santana said.

"Well, I hardly think that counts either," Rachel said. "It was one time, we were wasted because someone," she said, not so subtly look over at Puck, "kept making us take shots. Besides, that year was all confusing! Like, everyone was being super gay, and in our drunk haze we thought maybe we were gay too but didn't know because we had never made out with a girl. So we made out. You know, to find out."

"And what was the outcome of your research?" Santana asked. Rachel just glared at her.

"Then why were you staring at the dancer?" Puck asked.

"We're at a strip club!" Rachel said, taking a swig of her beer and trying to hide her exasperation at the line of questioning. "What else am I supposed to look at! Besides, she reminded me of Jack."

"Who's Jack?" Puck asked. Rachel just didn't respond. Santana's forehead scrunched, as she tried to get her alcohol soaked brain to piece together why the name Jack brought up some sort of memory with regards to Rachel.

"Wait!" Santana said. "The Jack you dated in college?" Rachel nodded, "Jack was a girl?" Santana and Puck's mouths dropped open. Rachel wasn't sure it was possible for her to get any redder.

"Look," Rachel said, "it's no big deal. I dated Jack for like a year in college and she totally broke my heart…" Santana and Puck were still gaping at her. "So…maybe I'm a little bit bisexual. I like to think of it as being attracted to the person, not the gender. And I would think that you would be the last person to judge me, Santana."

"Did you know about this?" Santana's head snapped over to Brittany, who nodded. "And you didn't tell me? I thought we didn't keep secrets…"

"I did tell you, San. I told you a bunch of times. They started dating during your whole Senior thesis crisis when you pretty much didn't listen to anything anyone said." Santana looked down.

"Oh, sorry about that, B," Santana looked down. Brittany examined her wife's face. If she didn't know any better, the look on her wife's face was less one of embarrassment and more one of scheming.

"I. Love. This. Night." Puck said. "I can't get the image of Quinn and Rachel getting it on out of my head now. All thanks to the Puckmaster." Puck grinned. Rachel hit his arm. He yelped. "Jesus, what is with you girls and your strength, lately?"

"I do not want to talk about Quinn tonight," Rachel said, taking another swig of her beer.

"What's going on with you and Q?" Santana asked.

"Nothing." Rachel huffed. "I'm just really tired of coming over at one in the morning when Justin has done something stupid and Quinn is drunk and mad, or worse, drunk and hurt, and then having to stand by every time he swoops back into to town and pretend like everything is okay. I just don't understand why she doesn't tell him how unhappy she is, or tell him that his behavior is unacceptable. Instead, she treats me like a sad little puppy who she can't get rid of, and allows him to walk over her." Rachel finished her beer.

"She doesn't treat you like that, Rach. I talked to Q today," Brittany said, resting her hand on Rachel's. "She felt really bad that she couldn't hang out with you and called me because she was upset with Justin, and upset with herself that she couldn't just cancel on him and spend the day with you. It's just…" Brittany looked at Santana for assistance.

"Well, he's her husband, and, like you said, she doesn't get to spend much time with him, and their relationship isn't going to get better if when he actually bothers to show up for his family she ditches them to hang out with her best friend." Rachel's eyes lit up a little when Santana referred to Rachel as Quinn's best friend. "Besides, I have an idea that will cheer you up." Santana smirked.

"Oh no, Santana. You're ideas to cheer me up never end well."

"Trust me. I've got this." Santana got up and went to the bar.

Santana leaned on the bar, impatiently tapping her fingers.

"Another shot?" The bartender asked, throwing his towel over his shoulder. Santana caught sight of her target.

"Two, actually." He slid the tequila over to her, along with two limes and a salt-shaker. It only took a couple of seconds before she caught Naomi's eye. She held up the shot glass and the dancer sauntered over to her.

"Hey," the dancer said, placing her hands on her hips.

"You were great up there," Santana said, intentionally turning on her sex voice. She handed the dancer the shot. She was about to pour the salt on her wrist before Santana stopped her. "Wait," she said, taking the salt-shaker from her and instead dusting it in the crook of her collarbone. The dancer smirked as Santana put the lime in her mouth, so that less than half of it was in her teeth. She had to work this out so that her lips never actually touched the dancer's. Naomi slowly ran her tongue along Santana's collarbone, lapping up the salt and then threw the shot back, gently taking the lime from Santana's lips. Santana threw her shot back immediately.

"I take it you're ready for that dance, now?" Naomi said seductively, resting her hand on Santana's hip.

"Actually, I had a favor to ask you," Santana flirted with the dancer.

"Anything, gorgeous." It took all of Santana's willpower to not roll her eyes.

"See, we're out with my friend tonight, and she needs some cheering up. You look a little like a girl she dated in college, so I was wondering if you could give her that lap dance." Naomi looked a little annoyed.

"Which one?" She asked.

"The brunette." Again, it took all of Santana's willpower to not snark back at her that it obviously it wasn't the one she had previously pointed out as her wife.

"Okay," she said, running one hand down Santana's arm. "But only because I believe no good deed goes unrewarded." She sauntered in front of Santana toward the table. Santana just rolled her eyes.

Santana took a seat next to Brittany and watched Naomi whisper into Rachel's ear. Santana wished with all her might at that moment that she could hear what Naomi was saying because Rachel flushed a dark red. Puck raised an eyebrow at Santana who just smirked.

"I saw you flirting with that stripper," Brittany whispered over to Santana, her voice husky with the combination of alcohol and desire. It was Santana's turn to blush. "I'm very, very, angry with you."

"We can do a shot like that, if you want, B," Santana said, whispering into her wife's lips.

"Don't think that's going to make up for everything…" Santana signaled to the waitress who returned with a round for everyone. Puck took his all alone, silently shaking his head for thinking it would be a good idea to go out to a strip club with a group of lesbians as he took the sight in around him. Rachel and her stripper had taken their shots, and Rachel was trying unsuccessfully to conceal how turned on she was. It like, made Puck uncomfortable, which was saying a lot. Brittany was currently slowly dragging her tongue along Santana's collarbone, and Santana was gripping her beer so tightly her knuckles had turned white. One of Brittany's hands was around her shot glass and Puck was unsure of where the other one was. He just shook his head again. The song ended, Santana looked like she was going to jump Brittany in any moment, and Naomi was whispering something to Rachel before she turned and walked away.

"I think we're done here." Puck said.

It was only a minor fight with Puck to get them to take a cab home instead of driving. Brittany and Santana sat in the very back of the van, while Puck and Rachel sat in the next row. Rachel was trying desperately to tune out the sound of Brittany and Santana by singing loudly.

"Would you please stop that, Rachel!" Puck finally said, turning to her.

"I'm sorry, Noah, but I just really can't listen to them going at it right now."

"Why? Turns you on too much? Especially after that hot lap dance?"

"Noah, you know everything doesn't have to be about sex."

"Says you, who just said you were trying to tune them out, when I think SANTANA is just being a big baby as usual." Puck yelled Santana's name.

"Fuck you, Puck!" Santana said between sobs. Rachel turned around. Santana's head was in Brittany's lap and Brittany was petting her hair.

"Shh, baby," Brittany said, "I know you were just flirting with her to get a free dance for Rachel. It's okay, it's okay. I was just joking when I said I was angry." Brittany rolled her eyes at Puck and Rachel who had turned to look at them.

"Who is she?" Rachel asked Puck.

"No one knows anymore…"

Mercedes' husband was snoring loudly in the guest bedroom when they got home. Brittany and Santana quickly checked on their sleeping children, and Brittany made up the pull out couch for Puck and Rachel, who were definitely way too drunk to drive themselves home. She also complied with Rachel's request for a barrier dividing her from Puck, which they made with a stack of couch cushions and a body pillow.

"I'll make breakfast for everyone in the morning, we're going to need something to ward off these hangovers." Brittany said. Puck had already passed out and Rachel just nodded.

Brittany crawled into her bed next to her crying wife.

"Baby, you need to calm down."

"I just love you so much, B. Do you know that? I would never ever flirt with anyone else unless I had an ulterior motive."

"I know that, San," Brittany said, yawning. "Let me make you feel better." Santana shook her head, but Brittany ignored it, and, despite her tiredness, pulled Santana into a long, deep kiss, relishing the sound of Santana moaning beneath her. Even as Brittany felt herself get turned on by the sight of her wife, she couldn't help but think that next time, she was really putting her foot down. Santana was never going to Jumbo's Clown Room again.

In the living room, Rachel checked her phone and tried to ignore Puck's loud snoring.

Quinn Fabray-Scott:

B invited me to brunch tomorrow.

You going to be there?

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 1:54am

Rachel Berry:

Yeah. How was your night?

You would have had fun with us

tonight.

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2:01am

Quinn Fabray-Scott:

I wish I could have come. Did

you have fun?

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2:03am

Rachel Berry:

Yeah. Why are you still up?

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2:10am

Quinn Fabray-Scott:

Dunno. Couldn't sleep I guess.

Glad you had fun…excited to see

you tomorrow. Night, Rach.

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2:11am

Rachel Berry:

Night, Q.

Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2:15am

Rachel curled up into the stuffed duck Brittany had given her and let the alcohol take over as she fell asleep.

Author's Note: Also, as a side note, does anyone know how to work tumblr and want to explain it me? Because I don't understand how to post things on there...I'm like technologically deficient...anyway, I hope you enjoyed!