Santana clutched her stomach as another sharp pain rocketed through her body.
"Oh, that looked like a big one," Kurt Hummel commented.
"No shit, Sherlock," Santana retorted through gritted teeth. She moaned loudly in pain. "God, why does this hurt so fucking much?"
"Well, women's bodies are designed—"
"Shut up, Rachel!" Santana and Kurt both yelled, immediately silencing the young starlet.
"Shouldn't we do something?" Finn asked, resting his hands on Rachel's shoulders reassuringly.
"Finnocence, I'm pretty sure that I've been doing something for the last nine months."
"Oh, no, I know, I meant—"
"I know what you meant, Finn," Santana breathed out as another contraction hit. "Goddamn, this hurts like a bitch."
"Santana, is there anyone you'd like me to call?" Kurt asked hesitantly.
Santana's eyes flashed dangerously. "Kurt, do not mention that again. Do you understand me? I've done fine the past year without any help, and I'm not about to start begging now. Got it?"
Kurt nodded quickly. "Rachel, we should go and see what's taking that doctor so long."
Catching his meaning, she nodded. "Yes. Finn, honey, stay here with Santana, and keep her company while we locate the doctor." She quickly followed Kurt out of the room.
"Don't you dare do something that'll make me go all Snixx on you! Hobbit! Porcelain! Get your sneaky asses back in this room!"
Out in the hall, Rachel asked worriedly, "Is it safe to leave Finn in there with her?"
"Please, Santana is all talk. As crazy as she is now, she's just like a PMS'd up Santana Lopez from high school. Nothing we can't handle. Besides, she won't do anything to us. We're her family."
A flicker of sadness crossed Rachel's features, and Kurt mirrored the expression. "Shouldn't we—"
"Rachel, no," Kurt hissed, folding his arms across his chest. "Santana really would kill us if we called her."
"But what about her parents?" Rachel pressed.
Kurt shook his head. "You weren't with her when she spoke to them. They were brutal, completely unwavering in their decision to cut her off. Well, Santana's father was, anyway. I don't even think her mother got a word in edgeways."
"Maybe that's who we should approach, then?" Rachel persisted.
Kurt sighed. She really didn't know when to quit. "Rachel, right now, we have to focus on what's best for Santana. She's been through hell this year, and we're all she has left. What kind of friends would we be if we went behind her back when she needed us most and tried to involve the people that caused the hurt in the first place?"
As Rachel looked up thoughtfully, Kurt rolled his eyes. If she seriously needed to consider his logic, then fame had clearly boggled her brain more than he'd thought.
Santana gasped for air and screamed for all she was worth.
"Great job, Mama," the doctor said through her mask. "You did great."
Santana flopped back onto the pillow, feeling utterly drained and sweaty. She mustered up the energy to look at the doctor sliding away from the tent covering the bottom half of her body.
The frown that had formed worriedly on Santana's forehead immediately vanished as she heard the first sound of a cry. She breathed a sigh of relief. She'd done it. She'd delivered a baby. Santana motherfucking Lopez was a mother at 19.
"Is she okay?" Santana asked urgently.
After quickly performing a routine check, Dr. Samantha Marlowe announced, "She looks to be perfect. Congratulations on your beautiful baby girl, Santana."
Santana felt tears prick her eyes as Dr. Marlowe brought the wrapped bundle towards her. She pushed herself up with great difficulty — she did just push a watermelon through a pea-sized hole, after all — and held out her arms in anticipation.
Dr. Marlowe gently placed Santana's daughter in her arms, then stepped back, allowing that special first moment between mother and child.
"Hey, baby girl," Santana whispered, smoothing her thumb gently over her baby's forehead, which was pulled tight and punctuated with a high-pitched wail. "You are so perfect. I'm going to make sure that you never get hurt and that you are always loved. I will love you forever."
The doctor smiled. This had been a rather unusual pregnancy for her, but there was always an exception to the rule, and Santana definitely enjoyed being exceptional.
There was a knock on the door, followed by a curious face poking in.
"We heard the crying. Can we see them?" Kurt asked.
Dr. Marlowe looked at Santana, who nodded absentmindedly, her eyes devouring every inch of her daughter, who had ceased her wailing in favor of squeaky, shaky breaths. The doctor opened the door for Kurt, Rachel, and Finn. Normally, friends would have to wait until the baby was cleaned and the mother properly looked after, but Dr. Marlowe knew that they were Santana's family.
"Hey, Santana," Rachel said softly, standing next to her friend. "How are you?"
Santana looked up at her three friends with tears slowly tracking down her face. "She's…perfect. She's amazing. How did I do this?"
"Because you're amazing," Kurt replied firmly, placing his hand comfortingly on Santana's arm. "She's an example of the person you are. She's you, Santana."
The new mother looked down at her baby again and choked back a sob. "But…w-what if-f I mess it up? I haven't had any kind of lasting relationship." Her eyes grew wide. "Oh my god, I'm totally going to mess her up! She's going to become a fuck-up like me and make everyone unhappy and—"
"Santana, you're being ridiculous," Finn cut her off, surprising everyone with the strength of his voice. "I've told you this before. You're awesome, and now the whole world gets another piece of that awesome you have inside. I have no doubt in my mind that that little girl is going to have the most loving mother any kid could ever want."
Santana's tears overflowed and streamed down her cheeks.
Dr. Marlowe took that as her cue. "We need to get Mom and Baby cleaned up and moved, so if you wouldn't mind giving us some time?"
"Oh, of course," Rachel said, ushering the two boys out. "Santana, we're going to be right here, okay? We're not going anywhere."
Santana nodded and sniffed loudly. The door closed, and she shook her head. "God, I am such a mess. My baby's a few minutes old, and already, I'm breaking down."
Dr. Marlowe smiled. "Can I tell you a secret?"
The Latina nodded.
The doctor leaned down, and Santana met her expectantly. "If you didn't burst into tears and start doubting yourself, I'd worry." She pulled back and chuckled. "Seriously, Santana, don't worry about it. It's completely normal."
Santana just smiled and wiped her tears away hurriedly, running her fingertips lightly over her daughter's face again. Even covered in Santana's inner crap, she still was the most beautiful baby in the world.
So what if Santana was a little biased? Every mother is.
"Have you thought of a name?" Dr. Marlowe asked.
Santana smiled softly. "Isabella. Isabella Lopez."
Santana chased Brittany around their living room.
"Britt, come on, give it back!" Santana whined, but she couldn't wipe the big grin off her face.
"Come and get it from me, slowpoke," Brittany teased, waving her phone tantalizingly in the air.
Santana smirked and began a predatory stalk towards her girlfriend. She loved silly little moments like this, moments that no one but Brittany got to see. When she was with Brittany, Santana became a softer, happier person. Now that they were living together, Brittany's playful nature was rubbing off on Santana, and they often ended up playing some silly, childish game, but both of them loved it.
When she was within a stretch of Brittany, Santana paused, holding the blonde dancer's gaze evenly. Brittany just smiled slyly and arched an eyebrow. Santana's smile widened. "So what happens when I go to class, and you go to work, and you still have my phone?" she asked.
The blonde shrugged. "Why would you need your phone in class anyway?"
"Well, I wouldn't be able to sext you, for one," Santana said, her voice dropping seductively. "I wouldn't be able to tell you how gorgeous you looked this morning waking up all tangled in the sheets. I wouldn't be able to tell you how wet I get when I think about you dancing and getting all hot and sweaty."
Brittany swallowed visibly, her grip on Santana's phone faltering slightly, and the Latina smirked to herself. Brittany may have the moves, but she had the words.
"And I wouldn't be able to tell you what I plan on doing when I come home, seeing as how you're only going to be home later this evening." Santana sighed dramatically. "Two hours all by myself and so incredibly turned on." She dropped her hand and let it trail up her own side, raising the thin shirt she was wearing.
Brittany squeaked at the appearance of the Latina's hard stomach covered by silky smooth skin. It was one of Brittany's favorite parts of Santana's body. Often, she would just lie on her stomach, running her fingers along all the contours.
"But I guess if you have my phone, I won't be able to tell you what I'm doing," Santana continued, pretending to be oblivious to Brittany's aroused state. "So I guess I'll have to keep myself entertained."
"No."
"What was that, B?" Santana asked sweetly in response to Brittany's growl.
"You will wait for me," Brittany said menacingly, stepping towards Santana. "You will not do anything to yourself. That's my job."
"But, Britt, if you're not here—"
Santana's argument was cut off by Brittany's lips crashing into hers. She gladly molded their mouths together and let Brittany show her who was in control. Tongues dueled and tangoed. Teeth grazed over lips and nipped at skin.
"Fuck," Santana gasped into Brittany's neck, one hand gripping her waist and the other buried in her gorgeous golden locks.
"What, now?" Brittany teased in a low voice, her breath ghosting over Santana's cheek.
"I have to leave in half an hour," Santana said, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall.
Brittany grinned and gripped Santana's waist with both hands, encouraging her girlfriend to wrap her legs around her. "Plenty of time to give you something to tide you over until later," she whispered, leaning in to kiss Santana as she carried her to the bedroom.
Santana smiled into the kiss. This was absolute heaven. This was perfection. Living in New York with her amazing girlfriend. Nothing could ruin this for her.
Brittany's life revolved around two things: Santana Lopez and dancing. Both of them had been a part of her life for pretty much the same amount of time, and she couldn't imagine her life without either. She would feel incomplete, which was why this decision was so hard for her to make. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, but could she do it without Santana?
She was sitting in the main studio that she taught in. Everyone else had gone home, but Brittany was staying late to try and think things through without Santana as a distraction. Because that was exactly what Santana would be. Brittany knew that she wouldn't be able to think about this problem if she went home all sweaty from dance and saw Santana humming in the kitchen as she made them dinner. She'd walk into the kitchen and slip her arms around her tiny waist —
Wait! Damn it. See? Distraction.
Brittany sighed. She should try and think about what Santana would say. She'd totally tell her to go for it, right? That was why they'd decided to tough it out in New York; there were more opportunities for both of them in their respective fields here. And this was a golden opportunity. Brittany had to take it. She had to. Santana would agree.
Smiling in relief at having finally come to a decision, Brittany picked up her phone and scrolled to a number.
"Hi, Rick? It's Brittany S. Pierce. Yeah, I know. Well, as it turns out, it took me less time than I thought to make my decision. So when do we leave on tour?"