Author's Note: Hello all! Thanks again for your great reviews!

"I should get going," Rachel said, pulling Quinn's hairbrush through her dark hair. Quinn leaned down and kissed Rachel's bare shoulder. Rachel caught Quinn's gaze in the mirror. "The kids are going to be home soon."

"Don't go," Quinn said, kissing up Rachel's neck. "The kids miss you."

"I miss them too," Rachel said. "It's weird now though…now that we're…you know…"

"Carrying on an illicit affair?" Quinn asked.

"Don't say that, Quinn." Rachel said seriously, briefly catching Quinn's eyes and then letting her eyes quickly flit to the table in front of her. "We don't talk about it, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Quinn asked, trying to negotiate with the sarcasm dripping in her voice. She did her best to soften both her face and her tone. "I'm going to get started on dinner, but I really hope you stay, okay? The kids miss you. Besides, it will raise more eyebrows if all of a sudden we stop spending time together." She looked at Rachel, searching for a response, but her usually animated face was completely free of expression. "Just think about it," Quinn added as she walked out the door.

Rachel fixed her makeup in the mirror and stared into her own deep dark eyes. She always felt too much. It was what always got her into trouble. But Rachel Berry could also do anything she set her mind too, and she had set her mind to do it this time without feelings. She was distracted from her thoughts by the buzz of her phone. She glanced down on the name on the caller ID, "Satan Pierce-Lopez". If Santana was calling her, it was probably an emergency.

"Why, hello, Santana. For what do I owe the pleasure of your conversation this evening?"

"Cut the bullshit, Berry."

"You are obviously out of earshot of your children for once!" Rachel said. "I much prefer your traditional swear words to the odd diversions from them you have concocted lately. Although, I must say, 'fu-weasle-mick-fuzzle-face' was quite the gem."

"Fuck. You. Berry. I don't even know why I bothered calling you for a favor."

"Ah. Santana Pierce-Lopez needs a favor. I cannot wait to hear this."

"Look, Berry, are you going to let me get to my point? I don't know how much longer I can tolerate your asinine rambling."

"Certainly, Santana, feel free to jump in at anytime."

"Look, I wouldn't be calling you if I weren't desperate. I'm sure Quinn has already filled you in on the embarrassingly cheesy details, but just so we're on the same page, I'm getting Brittany a puppy for her birthday—"

"OH MY GOD!" Rachel squealed into the phone, causing Santana to remove the phone an arm length from her ear on the other end of the line. "Quinn did not tell me, as I have not seen her since Big Bear, but I cannot even begin to express to you how I excited I am about this development!"

"Cool your horses, Berry. I was supposed to pick her up tomorrow, and she was going to stay at my Aunt Rita's but she had an emergency business trip and I'm desperate for someone to take the dog until Saturday. I would ask Q, but I'm worried about the girls slipping up and telling Britt."

"I'm no the greatest with animals, Santana," Rachel said, "I mean I love them, obviously. But I've never had a pet before."

"I really need this, Rachel. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

"Okay, text me tomorrow and we'll figure it out."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief when she closed her phone. Sure, it hadn't escaped her that Rachel had claimed to have not spoken to Quinn since Big Bear, which Santana knew was utter bullshit, but she had to put one fire out at time, these days. She left her room and walked to the kitchen where Brittany was preparing dinner. She tried to keep her face neutral when she caught Brittany's annoyed gaze.

"Where have you been?" Brittany said simply.

"I was just in our room," Santana said, picking up Nico and kissing his forehead.

"Well, you know, I could use some help here."

"Sorry, Britt, I had to make a work call, Santana said, unable to hide her own irritation.

"You know I'm working too, Santana."

"I know, Brittany! I just had to make a quick call. I'm here now, what do you want me to do?"

"Nevermind, it doesn't matter now. I don't want you to do anything, Santana. Just sit down and wait for dinner. Like a good husband," Brittany added under her breath.

"What?" Santana said.

"Nothing."

"Don't say 'nothing' when I know you're pissed off."

"I'm not pissed off," Brittany said, her voice softening slightly.

"Okay, well you're annoyed," Santana said, following Brittany's cue and also softening her voice. She placed her son back in his high chair and walked over to her wife. "What's going on?"

"I'm just stressed out with this new music video I'm choreographing, the director is a jerk, and it's hard being away from the house all day. And I know you're busy at work too, plus the added stress of your mother coming next week and planning a party, but sometimes I just wish that when you got home before me you would start dinner. Or, like, ask how my day is."

"What party?" Santana asked.

"Baby, you've thrown me a birthday party every year for the last eleven years. I think the act is up."

"This coming from the woman who still believed in Santa at 17." Brittany rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Britt. I'm sorry, I know I haven't been all here recently." She kissed Brittany's cheek. "I've been really stressed out with work…and your party…" Brittany grinned, "but that's no excuse. Why don't you let me finish dinner and you sit down and tell me about this director."

"Okay," Brittany said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Santana set to work shredding the chicken for the enchiladas. One fire at a time, she reminded herself.

"Rachel!" Hannah squealed as she walked into the house and found Rachel and her mother cooking dinner. Rachel nearly fell over as all three mini-Quinn's in leotards, tights, and backpacks ran into her with a tight hug. She was tiny and the little girls were fast approaching her in height.

"Where have you been?" Lily asked.

"I've been busy finishing up the movie."

"That's so cool," Hannah said. Rachel grinned.

"Give Rachel some space, girls, you're smothering her," Quinn said, smiling at her children. "How was your day?"

"I hate dance class," Lily said.

"I hate when it's Mrs. Tower's turn to pick us up from dance class. Her car smells funny," Hannah said.

"Okay," Quinn said, "why don't we start with what was good about your day then?"

"Practicing for the school play," Lily said.

"Playing Sharks and Minnows in gym class," Hannah said.

"My day was good, mama," Harper said, wrapping her arms around Quinn's leg. "We sang the alphabet song, and the hokey-pokey, and we got chicken eggs in class that are going to hatch into chickens cause they're in an inbucator-"

"Incubator," Quinn corrected.

"And Samantha let me borrow her cool markers that look shiny, and Mr. Tannenbaum made an egg get sucked into a bottle with a match, and I like dancing." Quinn smiled down at her youngest daughter, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm glad to hear that, baby. At least someone in this household has a positive attitude!" Lily and Hannah rolled their eyes. "Okay, who has homework?" Silence. "Let me rephrase that, how about we get started on our homework?" More eye rolls from her eldest children.

"How about I help you out with your homework?" Rachel asked.

"And Harper, you can stay here and help me cook." Harper nodded at Quinn, and Rachel led Lily and Hannah to the kitchen table. Harper grabbed her special cooking stool so she could see above the counter.

"I can't wait until I'm big enough to have homework, mommy," Harper said.

"Oh, you say that now, darling." She placed a bowl of marinade in front of her daughter. "Can you stir this slowly for me?" Harper nodded, and then continued telling her mother every detail about her day.

Santana fed Nico his mashed up, spice-free, version of enchiladas, with her right hand while attempting to send an email to her boss on her cell phone under the table with her left hand.

"Santana." Brittany said.

"Hm?" Santana looked up, knowing she was caught.

"Do you think you could lose the phone for a second, at least while we're eating?"

"Sorry," Santana said, placing the phone on the table. Brittany continued her story about the ducks she'd seen while filming the video in Pasadena. Like clockwork, Santana's phone began to buzz relentlessly. First it lit up for a phone call from her assistant. Then the voicemail. Then an email. Then another email. A text from Mike (no doubt about the party). Then her assistant again.

"Forget it, San." Brittany said, clearly annoyed.

"I'm sorry! I'm turning it off!" She turned off the phone and put her full attention toward her wife. It wasn't ten minutes before the landline rang. They both sat awkwardly as they let it go to voicemail. It rang again. Brittany got up to answer it.

"Hello? Hola, Maria. No, we were just eating dinner. It's no problem. Sure, I'll tell her." Brittany sat back at the table. "It was your mother. She wants you to call you back after dinner." They spent the rest of the dinner in silence.

"I really have to be leaving, Quinn," Rachel said, taking in another slow, lazy, kiss.

"Why? The kids are asleep, you can just sneak out in the morning." Rachel tried her best to keep her composure, reminding herself, for possibly the thousandth time in 24 hours, that she was doing this without feelings. She sat up in the bed.

"I don't want to risk them catching us. I love them too much for that."

"Fine." Quinn said, simply.

"Want to carpool to Brittany and Santana's Saturday?" Rachel asked, standing up and straightening out her clothes.

"Oh, I thought we talked about this," Quinn said, getting up and walking into the bathroom. "Justin is in town this weekend." Quinn didn't move from her place in the mirror, holding her breath for Rachel's response. She knew perfectly well she hadn't told her. In the doorway to Quinn's room, Rachel could feel her breath hitch in her throat and the tears rush quickly to her eyes. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that there were no feelings involved.

"I must have forgotten." Quinn shut her eyes as she heard her door slam. A few moments later the front door slammed and the sound of a car screeching down the street pierced through her quiet residential neighborhood. Quinn turned on the shower and climbed in, letting the piping hot water wash off Rachel's scent, wash off her shame, her embarrassment. She hated to admit it, but Santana was right, and she had to find someway to deal with all of this. She would come clean with her best friend, regardless of the consequences. Santana had been through this before, she couldn't judge her too much, right?

Brittany went into her studio to work on some choreography after they put the twins to bed, and Santana cleaned the kitchen and caught up on her emails. She remembered she was supposed to talk to her mother.

"Hola, mami."

"What's going on with you and Brittany?" Her mother asked immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't give me that, young lady."

"I'm thirty."

"Still young compared to me."

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

"She sounded sad and annoyed. What did you do?"

"Again, I don't know what you're talking about. And, for the record, I'm so sick of everyone assuming it's something I did. You know, Brittany's not perfect, mami."

"First of all, I've known Brittany nearly all of her life, and I know when you're hurting her. Second of all, I don't know when you're going to get it through that thick Lopez skull of yours that you cannot lie to your mother, I always know." Santana groaned.

"It's not a big deal, mom. We're both just trying to get the hang of working and raising two toddlers. It's rough. It's busy. I'm planning this damn birthday party, and we're both stressed out."

"Do something romantic."

"I don't have time, mami!"

"Aye, dios mio, mija, you are insufferable. Go do something for your wife to show her you care and that you love her." Santana didn't respond. Maria rolled her eyes on the other side of the phone, knowing her daughter too well. "Sex doesn't fix everything, mija!"

"Mami!"

"You've been married for almost six years, you've been dating for twelve, and you had extremely conspicuous sex down the hall from me all through high school…"

"Seriously, mom…"

"All I'm saying is that I'm very aware of the fact that you and Brittany have sex. Go do something romantic. I'll call you tomorrow about my plans for when I visit."

"Okay, mami. Te amo."

"I love you too, mija."

"San?" Brittany yelled out when she walked back into the house. She was probably in their room on her phone as usual. Brittany was surprised when Santana wasn't planted at her desk. "Santana?" Brittany cried out again.

"In here, babe!" Santana called from the bathroom. Brittany walked in and her mouth dropped open.

"San…" The bathroom was filled with nearly every candle they had in the house. There was soft music playing, and the tub was filled with bubbles. Santana was holding a small bouquet of daisies.

"I picked them from the front yard," she said, sheepishly, handing them to Brittany. "I'm sorry things have been a little difficult, lately. I know we both have to get to work early in the morning, but maybe we could take a little time to relax? I'm sure you need a massage after all the dancing you've been doing."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, babe. Let's just get in the bath." Brittany started to take her clothes off and then stopped, pulling Santana to her and placing a light kiss on her lips.

"I love you so much, do you know that? No matter how hard the day to day stuff gets sometimes."

"You too, baby. More than you'll ever know. Now get in the bath. I owe you a massage."

Rachel crawled into her bed, not bothering to shower, but still annoyed by the scent of Quinn that lingered on her hair and skin. She couldn't hold back the tears she'd been fighting against for weeks any longer. This wasn't her. She couldn't just compartmentalize her romantic feelings from her sexual feelings. As much as it felt amazing to be so close to Quinn, every time she was forced to acknowledge that she could never have all of her, it felt like a knife wrenching through her heart. She had to end it. She pulled out her phone and quickly sent a text.

Over in Silverlake, Sarah was awoken by her ringtone.

Rachel Berry:

Long time, no see. Movie keeping

me super busy. Santana's wife's

bday party is on Saturday. Wanna

go with me?

Sarah:

I'd love too. And maybe dinner

sometime this week? To catch up?

Rachel Berry:

Of course. I'll call you tomorrow.