Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your great reviews! I really appreciate them! Next update will be soon!

It was funny how easily Quinn fell into a routine. It only took two weeks since they had left Big Bear. Quinn eyed her perfectly done makeup in the mirror and straightened her dress. She pulled on the corners of the comforter on her bed to make sure the corners were tight. It was still dark when she went downstairs and turned the coffee on. She went outside to get the newspaper, and by the time she came back in and had gotten her yogurt-granola mix ready, the coffee was done. She poured herself a cup, ate her breakfast, and read half of the paper. She checked her watch after putting her bowl in the dishwasher. It was exactly six, and the sun was beginning to slowly peak behind the mountains. Hannah would brush her teeth while she woke Lily. Lily would brush her teeth while she woke Harper. Harper brushed her teeth while she helped Lily dress. The two older girls would pack their backpacks while she helped Lily get dressed. Quinn would brush the hair of all three. They would watch twenty minutes of cartoons while she cooked breakfast. Quinn packed lunch while they ate. Quinn buckled them in the back of her SUV and drove to school, and then followed the same path back to her empty house. She poured the rest of the coffee into a cup, now cold, added some ice, and finished the paper.

"Today's your big Quinn day, right?" Brittany asked.

"Sí," Santana replied.

"What are you going to say?"

"No sé."

"¿Por qué se habla español?" Brittany asked. Santana's eyes widened.

"Your Spanish is getting good, Britt!"

"Intento…" Brittany replied. "Anyway, why are you speaking in Spanish?"

"I want to make sure the kids can speak it…and I don't know what I'm going to say to Quinn. Like, 'look, Q, you're doing about as good a job at concealing your craving for some carpet as Kurt pretending to like pussy while he did the Single Ladies dance on our high school football field. So I suggest we slaughter the pink elephant that is your sexuality and talk about your bizarre fixation with that annoying midget…' that's all I've got so far…" Brittany just shook her head.

"I know you still hate the feeling monster, San. Maybe try remembering how you felt when you were realizing you were gay?"

"It was so long ago, though, Britt."

"I know, but I also know that you still remember it, and, more importantly, sometimes you still feel how alone you felt back then why you see Quinn struggling. Just use all of those feelings to talk to Quinn. Be that teenager who wouldn't talk to anyone and painted her room black." Santana frowned and played with her food. "Use the feeling monster, honey, don't fight it."

"I hate the feeling monster."

"I know you do." Brittany put her hand on Santana's cheek and gave her a peck on the lips.

"Gracias, mi cariño, te amo."

"Te amo, también. No ser una perra hoy? Sí?" Santana rolled her eyes, wondering where in the world Brittany had picked up Spanish curse words.

"No escuchar a su mamá," Santana said, petting Olivia's head. "She has a dirty mouth."

"Perra." Olivia said. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Santana." Quinn said, holding the puppy in her arms. "This is literally the cutest puppy I have ever seen in my life." Santana beamed.

"See! I told you. I'd been considering getting her a puppy for her birthday, but after the whole let's have a baby debacle, I decided I really needed to do it." Santana petted the puppy.

"You pretend to be so tough," Quinn said, "but you just turn into Jello around babies and puppies." Quinn smiled.

"They're cute, okay?" Santana said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not my fault. Plus, she's a Pitbull-German Shepherd…she's kind of like me…"

"I have no idea what that is supposed to mean."

"Well, she'll look super fierce when she's not a little puppy, but everyone knows that Pitbulls aren't any more aggressive than any other dog if you don't train them to be. So people will be scared of her, but everyone close to her will no she's just a softie." Santana explained.

"Did you just admit that you're a 'softie' on the inside?" Quinn asked, using air quotes. Santana blushed.

"You tell anyone and I will cut you. I mean it this time, Q."

"You're too cute for words, sometimes, Santana Pierce-Lopez." Santana shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to start filling out the paperwork so I can be sure we'll have her next week in time for B's birthday."

"Okay," Quinn said, burying herself into the puppy's soft fur.

It was difficult talking Quinn into parting with the puppy, but eventually they were on the road away from the animal shelter.

"So…just so you know…" Santana began as they drove to one of her favorite Mexican restaurants, "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone." She continued, quietly.

"Oh my god." Quinn replied. "Did something happen with Brittany? Did you screw up again, because I thought we had left those days back at USC."

"It's worse."

"How could it be worse?"

"You know how I go to the gym all the time?"

"Yeah." Quinn raised an eyebrow wondering where this could possible be going.

"It's because I'm addicted to carnitas." Quinn lightly hit her friend.

"I hate you! I thought you were serious."

"I am being serious! I sneak out of the office at least once a week to come to the east side to find the best carnitas in the city. I love them."

"Gross. Doesn't that mean 'little meats'? And aren't they cooked in like, lard?"

"Yes, which is why I have to go to the gym so often! And it's just pork, Q, and we all know how you love your pork. Anyway, I'm taking you to one of my favorite restaurants, and you will be trying the carnitas burrito, wet."

"What does 'wet' mean?"

"Sauce and cheese on the outside."

"I guess I just have to trust you then."

"You'll see, Q, your world is about to change."

"This isn't real." Quinn said with a mouthful of burrito.

"I assure you, Quinn, this is 100% real."

"No. I don't even recognize this meat. I don't even understand how meat that is not bacon can possibly taste this good."

"I told you…greatest carnitas burrito in the city. Besides, I knew you would like it, it's still a pork product."

"And the sauce on the outside! Whoever thought of putting sauce on the outside of a burrito? I want to marry whomever came up with this idea."

"I told you, it is always better wet." Santana was about to come up with a vulgar yet witty afterthought to that statement, when she realized that perhaps her food analogies could be put to better use at the moment. "Which brings me to the other reason I thought it would be good if we had a girl's day today, Q." Quinn eyed her skeptically. "It's come to my attention lately…I mean, I've started to notice…oh fuck it, Q. I'm just gonna put it out there. You seem to be liking your pork and your wet burritos, lately." Santana rolled her eyes to herself, realizing that this may have not been the best way to broach the subject. Quinn stared at her in shock for a moment, her mouth full of burrito. She had become skillful over the years, though, at deflecting attention away from awkward moments.

"That would have worked better if I'd been eating a wet taco, Santana," Quinn said, taking another bite. "A burrito is kind of phallic."

"There's no such thing as a wet taco, though." Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"And here I was, thinking that you had such a great sex life all these years." Santana glared at her.

"I meant in food, Quinn. God. You can't even imagine how wet…"

"Stop." Quinn said, putting her hand up. "I know I brought it on myself, but I do not want to know." Santana smirked and took a sip of her margarita.

"I know you were trying to change the subject, Q…and I know that even after all of these years, it's still not the most natural for us to, you know, have serious conversations. It never was my strong suit. We're alike in that way, Q. We both shove everything under the rug until the rug becomes a feeling monster that we have to fight off." Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Did Brittany tell you to say that?" Santana rolled her eyes.

"The point here, Q, is that this is the reason we fought so much in high school. It's also, I think, the reason we became so close in college. We can talk and then release our anger at the feeling monster out on a fist fight with one another."

"Enough, with the feeling monster, Santana," Quinn said, taking a gulp of margarita.

"It works when Brittany says it?"

"I'm sure it does. You, however, sound absolutely ridiculous."

"Seriously, Quinn. We've always talked about everything. I'm not blind and I'm not dumb and I want you to know that you can always talk to me about whatever is going on with you and Rachel." Quinn's face hardened.

"I find it insulting, Santana, that you are so quick to assume that I am cheating on my husband with Rachel. Just because my marriage isn't the picture-perfect dream marriage you and Brittany have doesn't mean that I would do that to Justin. I'm not a teenager anymore, and I would have hoped you could see how much I've grown."

"Woah, Q, that's not what I am saying at all. I never assumed you were sleeping with Rachel and I didn't say anything about you cheating on your husband. I assumed you had feelings for her, but I hope by now you know that I respect you enough to also never jump to the conclusion that you were being in anyway dishonest with your husband. You know that my relationship with Brittany has had many ups and downs, just like any relationship. We just happen to be at an up while you're at a down. When it's been the opposite, you have always helped me through it, even though sometimes you had to drag the conversations out of me kicking and screaming."

"Why did you want to talk to me then, if you didn't think I was cheating on Justin

"Well…you kind of inadvertently admitted just now that you do have feelings for Rachel."

"So what if I do! I haven't acted on them!"

"I know, Q, and I believe you. I also know, however, how confusing it can be when coming to terms with you're sexuality. It would be dumb of me to assume that it is any easier to realize you may be attracted to women at 30 than it is at 15."

"It doesn't matter," Quinn said, softly. "I'm married. So what if I'm attracted to women as well as men? It's not something I can ever act on." Santana reached across the table and grabbed Quinn's hands. Quinn's eyes locked with Santana's and she was surprised at the sincerity and empathy behind them. It was as though Santana's face, usually all angles, had become soft and inviting. Quinn had seen Santana like this before, usually when things were not going well with Brittany, but she knew it was a rare occasion when her best friend let her walls fall down.

"It matters, Q, because until you deal with it, keeping it a secret will eat you up inside. It's not about dating a woman, or sleeping with a woman, it's about being able to tell your husband that you are attracted to them. There's something cathartic about being able to feel like you're not constantly hiding something. It may not make a difference functionally in your life, but, in some inexplicable way, being able to admit this to the people close to you lifts an enormous weight off of your chest." They sat in silence for a bit.

"We kissed once." They stared at each other, waiting for the other one to say something. Finally Quinn continued. "We were drunk. We kissed. We dealt with it in Big Bear, which is why we were being awkward. Nothing has happened since though, and nothing will."

"Are you doing okay, Quinn?"

"I think so. I'm a little confused, I guess. But like I said, nothing can really come of it." Santana nodded understanding. "Thank you, San."

"Anytime. You know my door is always open." Quinn nodded. "No, literally," Santana said, taking another bite of her burrito, "I think my door is always open. Brittany is really paranoid about losing her keys or something…" Quinn laughed and they finished eating their lunch.

"How did it go with Quinn today?" Brittany asked, walking through the door that evening, still in her dance clothes. Santana was lying on her stomach on the ground playing with Nico and Olivia.

"It was fine," Santana said. "We had lunch and got our eyebrows done."

"I mean, how did your talk with her go?"

"It could have been better."

"What do you mean?" Brittany sat cross-legged on the ground and picked up Nico, gently bouncing him in her lap.

"Well, the minute I brought up the fact that she may have feelings for Rachel, she started ranting about how she was not cheating on her husband. Eventually I got through to her that I didn't think she was cheating, but wanted her to know that I was here for her to talk to."

"Do you think she's cheating on Justin?"

"After that conversation, absolutely. They kissed. She says that's all it was, but I don't know that I believe her."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know that there is anything we can do, B." Santana absentmindedly waved a small stuffed duck at Olivia, who giggled and tried to catch it.

"Mami! Mami!" Olivia giggled. Santana tried her best to stay focused on the conversation and ignore the feeling that her heart was going to burst at the seams every time her children called her mami. This is why she hated feelings in high school…they were making her soft. She didn't even care when Olivia pulled on her perfectly done weave. She caught Brittany smiling at her clear adoration of her daughter.

"Then she went on about how I didn't understand her angst. Which is absurd. It's as though she completely forgot the first like, ten years we were together."

"Well, she's probably just used to seeing you like you are now. Doting mother is a kind of 180 from angsty teenager." Santana nodded, and Brittany's forehead scrunched up in thought. "When they say '180', do you think they mean miles or feet?"

"Degrees, Britt."

"Like temperature?"

"No, like circles..." Brittany still looked confused. "Doesn't really, matter, B. You always hated Geometry." Santana smiled at her. "Anyway, it's not fair of her to just forget that I know where she's coming from." Santana squirmed as Olivia played with her ear. " And back in high school, I think maybe we could have called her out on this shit-tlesticks," Santana said awkwardly, catching herself cursing in front of her children again, "it's so much more complicated now. I feel like, unless she comes to me, or I actually catch her and Rachel, I have to keep my mouth shut."

"She knows you're here, though, San. That's what's important."

"I guess."

"Ducky!" Olivia said. Brittany let Nico on the ground and he crawled toward Santana and his sister.

"Ducky!" Nico yelled. Brittany grinned.

"Patito," Santana said, waving the duck in the air. Nico grabbed it.

"Ducky," he said, again.

"Patito," Santana said. Brittany lay down with her head in the small of Santana's back.

"Don't worry, Sany, they'll learn eventually. Tu eres mi patito."

"You really are practicing, aren't you?"

"You know it." Brittany said. "I'm going to be fluent in no time."

It had always been easy for her to stumble into a routine. Quinn wondered if she had always been like this. She checked her watch as she fumbled with the keys. It was 4:05, she was only 5 minutes late. She felt bad, she really did. She and Santana had actually developed a close relationship since high school, and she knew how much it took for Santana to put herself out there like that. She placed her keys in her purse as she walked up the stairs. She wasn't one who was able to readily deal with the problems in her life though; she wasn't even one to really acknowledge that problems existed. She got to the end of the hall and lightly rapped on the door. Within moments, the door swung open.

"It took you long enough," Rachel said, pulling Quinn in her apartment and slamming the door behind her. Quinn laughed bitterly to herself as Rachel pushed her down onto the couch. "Where were you?" Rachel asked, straddling Quinn on the couch.

"Just running a few errands. Don't worry about it."

"I wasn't," Rachel said, leaning down and pulling Quinn into a passionate kiss.