Friday night found Santana sitting on the couch with Sam Evans, of all people. She had already gone through her upcoming presentation once, and as Sam had nearly fallen asleep listening to it, Santana figured it was pretty close to perfect. Now they had on a movie, The Transporter, which was possibly, in her opinion, the best action flick ever, but she wasn't really watching the movie. Her cell phone was on the coffee table, next to her propped up feet, and she kept glancing at it, or more specifically, the time. It was ticking closer to 7:00, and Quinn was usually home a lot earlier than this on Friday nights. She got off of work at 4:00, and Santana was beginning to worry about where her wife was. Sam was a distraction, but not quite enough.

She gave him a side-ways glance. "Isn't Mercedes going to start wondering where you're disappearing off to?"

As if on cue, Sam's phone went off. As Mercedes ring tone echoed in the apartment, Santana glanced, once again, at her own silent phone, missing Sam's panicked squeak. "It's Mercedes! What do I do?"

"Answer it, genius."

"What do I say?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't let it go to voice mail."

Sam reluctantly answered his phone. "Uh, hi sweet lady," he said in some imitation of a character Santana had never heard of. Santana had never gotten any of his references, and she couldn't figure out if Sam didn't know that he was that bad, or if he knew and didn't care. "Where am I? Ummm…out?"

Santana rolled her eyes. This poor sap had no concept of how to successfully lie to your spouse. Feeling his lie wasn't sufficient Sam added, "buying…a fish?"

Oh this poor, poor fool. He wasn't going to survive. Santana finally caved and typed out a quick message to her wife saying only two words: Home soon?

She realized that Sam had hung up with Mercedes. When she looked back over at him he looked green. "She wants me home right now."

"Uh oh, sounds like someone's in trouble."

"What should I do?"

"Grovel?" Santana suggested.

"Gee, thanks, pal."

"Go down on her?"

Sam appeared to like this idea more. He stood up, switching off the movie. "Hey! I was still watching that!"

"I need a ride."

"Call a cab!"

"Really, Santana? I'm already in hot water with my girl as it is. I would give you a ride."

"It's cold out there!" Santana protested. Santana grunted as she stood up. "Fine! You are really testing me, Evans, and this better not take forever because Quinn's supposed to be home soon." She continued to glower at Sam, but went looking for her keys, her jacket, and a hat. Santana really hated winter and it hadn't even started yet.

There was silence in the car all the way from Quinn's apartment to Mercedes' brownstone. She looked over when Sam's text message alert went off. "'Cedes says that Quinn's with her." Sam alerted her.

Santana frowned. "What's she doing with Mercedes?"

"Mercedes needed Quinn's help with something, apparently," Sam responded.

Until she heard his voice, she wasn't aware that she said the words out loud. "Well why didn't she text me?" Santana grumped. No, her wife wasn't under any obligation to let her know of her every movement, but if Santana hadn't let Quinn know where she was three hours after she was supposed to be home, Quinn would have been blowing up her phone demanding to know if she was okay, then yelling at her for at least a good 10 minutes letting her know just how worried she'd been, and how Santana should have at least texted.

Santana was able to slide into a spot directly in front of Mercedes' brownstone. "Tell Quinn to come out?"

Sam fired off a text. "She wants you to come inside," he informed her. "She and Mercedes are still working."

Santana groaned loudly, not bothering to hold back her frustration as she got out of the car, into the cold, to climb up the stoop, and into the building.

Mercedes' place was actually pretty nice. She had poured what she had earned from her music into buying the building (and her studio) and doing an overhaul on it. There were two apartments on the first floor, and with Sam's help, the second and third floor were being renovated to make one apartment and give them more living space for her new growing family.

Santana liked how it felt warm and inviting from the second you let yourself into the entrance. The paint was bright, but not overwhelming, and there were little touches: a closed in mudroom/mailroom, a bench to take a quick sit down, or to rest your bags on while you searched for your keys, real plants, some artwork. It was a space that no one would be in for more than a few minutes, tops, but it was a small bit of comfort that made it feel like you were coming home. She was sure Mercedes' tenants appreciated the space just as much as she did, and the fact that Mercedes kept the property well maintained, too, was just more of a bonus. If Santana wanted to live near down town, this was the kind of residence that she'd want to live in.

Sam walked past her and up the stairs, practically lumbering in front of her. Big oaf, Santana thought unkindly in her head as she followed in his wake. To amuse herself, she thought about Mercedes laying in to him as soon as the door opened, figuring it would be recompense for dragging her along with him in the first place.

Sam unlocked the door, but stopped short of opening it. "You go in first," he instructed.

Santana rolled her eyes. "It's not going to save you any from your wife by delaying. Trust me, I know."

Sam shrugged, and Santana thought he was being ridiculous, but she opened the door anyway. "Pathetic-," was on her tongue, almost spoken when she was hit by the wave of one word said almost in unison from several mouths: "Surprise!" While Santana stood there, flabbergasted, two more words were thrown at her almost in explanation, "Happy Birthday!"

Quinn stepped forward with open arms and a kiss for Santana. She placed a pink plastic birthday crown on her head as well, holding out a matching scepter. "Happy birthday, baby!" Quinn cheered before placing a kiss on Santana's lips. She smiled into her wife's lips, taking an extra second or two longer to give her some additional love. "Were you surprised?"

The moment was momentarily ruined when an arm came down around Santana, followed by a matching one landing on Quinn's shoulders. "She was totally surprised," Sam said. "She actually thought that I was hiding from you, Mercy."

"He knows better than that," she asserted.

There were a few guys from work, Dex and Nichols, and a girl from the secretary pool, Hannah, She thought as well as a couple from Quinn's apartment that they were friendly with, and, of course,-

"30," Kurt said with an upturn of his perpetual baby face. "Is that a wrinkle I see?"

"Don't even joke," Santana said sternly. Because her birthday was near the end of the year (and she started school later than everyone else) Santana was the first among her peers to turn 30. This meant she was subjected to their aging taunts as the rest of them still had a couple of months before they turned 'over the baby hill' as Blaine said. Rachel was unsurprising quietly, because as her own 30th lurked just around the corner, anything she said would be just thrown back in her face in a couple of days.

Santana couldn't help smiling at the display, all there to see her, and she couldn't help showing Quinn her appreciation by cornering her and placing kisses on her lips every chance she got. She was even happy to see that Rachel was there.

The best part of the night was when Mercedes played the Cha Cha Slide, and they got a real view of just how old they were getting. When Quinn felt herself getting slightly winded she leaned against her wife. "'Member when I was a cheerleader," she huffed. "And we were breezing through Sue's two a days?"

Santana laughed, because she was pretty much doing those now, and so this dancing was a cake walk, but the same couldn't be said for everyone else, and of course Brittany danced around all of them, making them all look amateurish. Tamara only danced when her wife was present (with very good reason, she kind of danced slightly better than Finn when she was alone), but when she danced with Brittany, she couldn't manage to hide just how happy doing so made her. Santana caught herself watching them for a few minutes, and thought about how it was nice that they had all were all doing well; that they had all managed to find someone who could complete them.

Tamara found someone who could teach her how to dance, Brittany found someone who could teach her all new steps. Mercedes found someone who wouldn't run when she pushed, Sam found someone who he could hold on to. And she and Quinn? Quinn had found someone who could hold her together, and Santana found reasons not to fall apart. Quinn caught her eye, and Santana smiled at her, holding her hands out to entice her to dance.

Hours later, the party was dying down, and people were starting to leave. It wasn't like the kind of party that had dominated her high school and college career. It wasn't the kind where people stuck around until they passed out on whatever flat surface they could find, and woke up with hangovers. There was hardly any alcohol consumed at all. Ziggy was right…her 20s were over.

When no one else but the Glee kids remained, the New Yorkers started for the door as well. "As much as we would love to stay, this one," Kurt nodded at Rachel in case there was any doubt about who he was talking about, "has to be on stage tomorrow. And we promised the baby sitter we'd be back tonight."

"Oh, boo," Santana grunted, but she lined up like everyone else to say good bye. "You be safe driving back."

"And you watch those hips of yours," Kurt returned, driving home one last barb. "Happy Birthday Snixx. Love you guys."

"Call someone when you get home. Actually text all of us!"

"Okay, mother…!"

"Yeah, yeah."

When it was just the six of them, they settled into Mercedes ample seating in the living room, they put on a movie. When they had all settled into a lull, Santana looked around at the three remaining couples. Mercedes and Santana were both in their lovers' arms, while Brittany was stretched out with her head on Tamara's ballooning stomach. Santana nudged Mercedes with her foot.

Mercedes looked up slightly irritated, but her expression quickly evened out. "Notice something?" Santana whispered. Mercedes had to draw her eyes away from the screen as she took in the scene. It took her a minute to figure out what Santana was talking about, but then she smirked, shaking her head as she went back to the movie they were all watching.

"What?" Quinn questioned, not missing the exchange.

"Lima blondes seem to sure love their brown," Mercedes answered, this time not turning away from the TV. In dawned on the blondes in the room what she meant. Sam hugged Mercedes closer to him. "Well I love my chocolate drop," he said at the same time that Quinn said, "I'm not a natural blonde."

Tamara, who had absentmindedly been combing her fingers through Brittany's hair, looked over in confusion. "What's going on?"

Santana merely pointed at herself, Tamara, and Mercedes, then Sam, Brittany, and Quinn, and she instantly got it. "Oh."

"I was saying the blondes in Lima like their browns."

"Or you guys are the ones falling for the blondes," Sam suggested.

"Quinn's not a natural blonde," Santana said immediately.

Tamara looked down on her wife in quiet contemplation. "I never dated a blonde before Brittany." Brittany smiled, shaking hook her hair out. "I never dated any person not of color before Britt; surprised the hell out of my mom."

"You too," Brittany said in jest. "I had to ask you out three times before you finally said yes."

"Really?" Santana blurted. She wasn't the only one who was surprised by this, because most people seemed to have trouble saying no to Brittany. Santana wondered if this was the key to their relationship. She could certainly see how the challenge had probably appealed to her ex.

"The first time she flat out told me no, the second time she told me she'd think about it before telling me no a week later, and the third time was the charm."

"I said yes the first time you asked me to marry you," Tamara said softly.

Brittany smiled happily, "Yes, you did."

Tamara surprisingly spoke up; addressing the crowd at large. "The first time I didn't take her seriously; Brittany was friendly, but she was always very friendly with all of the people on set. And I mostly kept to myself."

"I was constantly inviting you to come out with me. I purposely ran into you. I didn't do that with everyone."

Tamara squeezed her hand.

"The second time we had known each other a little better but I had to think about it; Brittany was far more outgoing then the people I was used to being around. And the final time,"

"She said yes!" Brittany giggled, and Tamara smiled down at her with a warm smile that all who witnessed it were pretty certain they were not meant to see. Brittany leaned up to peck Tamara on the lips before she placed a kiss on her belly. "Love you, too, Squishy."

It was such an intimate moment that everyone else turned back to the movie to give them privacy.

It was pretty late by the time the movie was over, so they were all pretty much dragging ass to the door. Santana knew that they could stay over if they wanted to, but she wanted home and their bed, so they said their goodnights.

Quinn snuggled into Santana's shoulder as they headed down the stairs to Santana's car. She yawned. "Did you have a good birthday, sweetie?" she questioned sleepily.

"The best one yet," Santana said in answer.