A/N: This is a continuation of "Invincible," picking up a couple months later, post-graduation. Just felt like writing something. Enjoy!

"Honey, I'm home!"

Santana turned, smiling, Beth propped on her hip. "Hi."

"Hi, sweetie," Shelby said, pressing a brief kiss to Santana's lips. "And hi, my little Smoochiepoo!" She gathered Beth in her arms, covering her in silly kisses until the toddler started giggling.

Santana smiled and leaned against the kitchen table, watching mother and daughter reunite.

"Everything go okay today?" Shelby asked, righting herself after tipping Beth upside down.

This was their daily routine. After graduation, Santana had moved out of her parents' house and into Shelby's condo. Shelby had found a new job, giving voice lessons and audition consultations full time – in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She hadn't been forced out of McKinley, but when Santana moved in, their relationship's origin as teacher/student could no longer remain a secret, and the judgment and gossip was enough to make Shelby seek employment elsewhere. It was hard to come by in Lima, and resulted in a ninety-minute – each way – commute, but she had made it work. It probably wouldn't have, but Santana was there.

And Santana was happy. Three days each week, Shelby would drop Beth at daycare on her way out of town so she could play with other children. Santana would pick her up in the afternoon and take care of dinner. The other two days, Beth stayed home with Santana. She had never thought herself maternal, but there was something that stirred inside her the first time Beth wobbled over to her at daycare, in a fit of tears over who-knows-what, wailing "'Tana!" repeatedly until she scooped her up and held her close. Santana had been doing an emergency pick-up for Shelby, who was running late. That night, Santana offered to really help.

"Besides," Santana had said as they sat at the kitchen table, Shelby trying her best to not let her financial stress show as she sorted bills. "I don't want to be a freeloader. I can help."

Between cutting the childcare expense and Santana picking up a part-time job as a receptionist at a law firm on the daycare days to help with groceries and utilities, Shelby's stress level had fallen considerably, and they were both happier. Shelby felt supported and Santana felt useful. They had found their roles.

"Yeah, we had fun," Santana replied, answering Shelby's question. "We finger painted. Beth made this for you." She handed Shelby a piece of waxed paper, covered in nonsensical smears of multicolored paint. Written along the bottom, obviously by Santana, was 'I LOVE YOU, MAMA,' with a backwards E.

"Aw, I love it, thank you, Smoochiepoo!" She nuzzled Beth, who wiggled to be put down.

Santana smiled and handed her another sheet of waxed paper. "And I made this for you." Santana's finger painting featured a bright red heart with an arrow through it. Hers also had, "I love you, mama" across the bottom, followed by a series of X's and O's.

Shelby stooped to set Beth down to run off and slid her arms around Santana's waist. "I love you, too."

Santana felt herself be kissed in that way. Shelby had several different kisses; she'd categorized eight so far. This was number four – the one that sent electricity all the way to Santana's toes and made her feel absolutely possessed. It was her favorite of the eight.

"Did she nap today?" Shelby asked when she finally pulled away.

Santana nodded, detangling her fingers from Shelby's hair. "Three hours."

Shelby laughed, breathless. "Damn. She's going to be up late."

"We can be patient," Santana said, brushing her lips over Shelby's once more before backing out of their embrace to see what Beth had assuredly gotten into; it was far too quiet.

Saturday night was date night. Well, they hadn't been together long enough to formally declare it as such, but more often than not, they would find a babysitter and go out for a quiet dinner together, or catch a movie. Sitters had been hard to secure this weekend – it was 4th of July weekend. Puck was already at the lake with his friends and the other girls they had come to depend on had plans, too.

"We can stay in, get Chinese delivered. It's fine," Shelby said, resigning to the inevitable.

Santana rapped her fingernails on her knee, debating. She really wanted to get out of the house. She loved taking care of Beth, but everyone needs a little break now and then. And she was dying to get Shelby into a club and onto a dance floor. It had been a long week for Shelby, between catching the wrath of a stage mom who blamed her for her daughter not getting booked after the audition Shelby helped prep her for and getting a flat tire on the freeway on her way home. She knew she needed to let off some steam.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Shelby answered. "Why?"

"I'll find us a sitter." And with that, Santana pulled up a contact on her phone she had doubted she would ever use again.

"Is this going to be weird? I feel like this is weird." Shelby was rushing around the bedroom, changing out of her comfy sweats and into a black halter-top dress with a flowing, pleated skirt. Her makeup and hair were already done.

Santana glanced in the mirror at Shelby stripping and dressing behind her, gliding a lip gloss wand over her lips – red to match her curve-hugging dress. "She said she's been dying to spend some time with Beth and get to know her. I don't see anything wrong with that."

"But with everything that happened?" Shelby balanced with a hand on the dresser as she stepped into a pair of black heels. They were Santana's favorite pair. "And you're classmates."

"Were. We were classmates."

"I thought with the way things ended, she wouldn't want –"

"Look," Santana interrupted. "I called, I asked, she agreed. Eagerly." On cue, the doorbell rang. "Besides," she said as they walked to the front door together, "she's the only person in the world that I knew wouldn't have plans tonight."

Shelby tsked and Santana shrugged as she reached for the doorknob and pulled. "What? It's true. Hey, Berry."

"Hello, Santana," Rachel said before immediately diverting her attention. "Hi, Shelby. Before you say anything, I want you to know that I appreciate you allowing me into your home like this. I want to get to know you better, and I can't do that without getting to know Beth. She's essentially my sister, after all."

Santana kept her mouth shut. She knew how badly Rachel wanted to be part of Shelby's life. She also knew how badly Shelby wanted it, but also recognized her endless battle of guilt, regret, and hopelessness. She hoped she had made the right decision, calling Rachel.

"Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming, Rachel," Shelby managed after a multitude of emotions washing over her face. "Please, come in."

Santana sat on a stool by the door, letting Shelby handle the caretaking details. After a few minutes, she returned and grasped Santana's hand, leading her out the door and down the stairs. Shelby didn't say a word until they were sitting in Santana's car.

Santana knew when to be quiet. She hadn't said a word since Rachel had arrived.

"We could have stayed home. We don't need to go out. She shouldn't have to give up her evening. I have done nothing to deserve her generosity. I've caused her so much pain. I don't understand why –"

"Because she's Rachel," Santana finally said, placing her hand over Shelby's forearm to calm her. "And Rachel forgives everyone. She forgave you a long time ago."

Shelby sighed, her eyes watering but not quite crying. "How do you know?"

"Because. She's Rachel." Santana smiled. "I might have tormented her for years, but that doesn't mean I don't know her. She's a good person."

"I really don't know –"

"Hey. You said you trust me, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then trust me on this. Now let's go, or we'll lose our reservation."

Shelby nodded and turned to stare out the window as Santana started the engine. Santana felt her lace their fingers together as she drove, squeezing her hand tightly.

"She'll have a Clos du Bois Pinot," Santana said to the waiter, before he had even offered a wine list. She knew Shelby needed it.

"And for you?" the waiter asked.

"I'll have the same, actually," Santana replied with a warm smile, sending the waiter on his way. It broke into a grin when she saw the look on Shelby's face, one eyebrow cocked at Santana. "What? It's not my fault he didn't card me. You should be glad I look mature enough."

Shelby smiled a little, and Santana hoped she would be able to relax and enjoy the evening.

Between the wine, the food, the ambiance, and the charm and flattery Santana had dialed up to the max, Shelby was eventually able to enjoy herself. They sat, toying with each other's fingers as they debated whether or not to order a dessert.

The waiter reappeared. "Have you decided?"

Santana glanced at Shelby, who shook her head. "I think we need to pass tonight. Dinner was just too good; we're stuffed."

"Very well. I'll be your cashier this evening, whenever you're ready." The waiter set the black leather check holder on the table, and Santana snatched it before Shelby had a chance.

"Santana, don't. Let me."

"No, this is my date." She fished around in her purse until she found her credit card and slid it into the holder without glancing at the check.

"It's our date."

"Then you can find a way to repay me later." Santana slid her fingers between Shelby's, dragging them apart slowly. She saw Shelby shiver. They were going to have fun tonight.

"Where are we going?" Shelby asked as Santana drove.

"Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, dancing. You dance."

"Not really."

"You have rhythm. You can dance. You just need to not think about it so much." Santana pulled into a parking space on the street and killed the engine. "Come on."

Shelby wobbled for a second when she got out of the car. "Whoa. Wine."

Santana smirked and gave Shelby her arm to steady herself. Yeah, they were definitely going to have fun tonight.

She led them a block up the street and into an unsuspecting looking building, and into an elevator that descended to the basement. It had been silent until the elevator doors opened, and muffled bass filtered through a door at the other end of the room. Santana knocked in a pattern and a narrow window slid open, a pair of eyes staring at them both.

"Nickelback is the greatest band ever," Santana said, pitching her voice up to be heard over the music.

The window slid closed and Shelby laughed. "Is this some sort of exclusive speakeasy?"

"That's exactly what it is," Santana said as they heard a loud metallic clang of a lock turning before the door swung inward, music and lights flooding over them.

"Hello, my lovelies!" Santana called out as they entered, earning a round of cheers in return. She led them to the bar, where the bartender – a cute redheaded woman – dropped two napkins in front of them, followed by two shot glasses, and poured two shots of tequila. Santana hadn't even ordered them.

"Been awhile," the bartender said over the music. "Missed you around here. Heard you graduated – congrats."

"Yeah, thanks." Santana slid the shots across the bar, passing one to Shelby. "This is my girl, Shelby." Santana turned and smiled at Shelby, amused by the look of astonishment on her face.

"Nice to meet you," Shelby said, leaning toward the bar to be heard. The bartender nodded and disappeared to wait on the other customers.

"Cheers," Santana said, tugging on Shelby's hand to get her attention. When she had it, she leaned in and ran her tongue up the side of Shelby's neck before tossing back the shot of tequila, wincing at the strong bite of alcohol. It passed quickly, and she noticed Shelby still holding her shot, still overwhelmed. "It hasn't been that long since you've been in a club, has it?"

"What? No. Not really. I guess, kind of. You've obviously been here a lot."

Santana sidled up to Shelby and slipped her arm around her waist, pulling her closer to speak into her ear. "One of my brother's friends owns it. Used to come here a lot. Which means I know all the places to go to for privacy. Now drink."

"For the record, I don't condone underage drinking," Shelby said before downing the shot straight.

Santana waited for her to finish before pulling her into a deep but quick kiss. "I won't tell if you don't. Come on, we came here to dance."

With that, Santana pulled Shelby onto the dance floor, just in time for C+C Music Factory's "Everybody Dance Now" to start blasting, earning a round of cheers for the throwback track. She wrapped her arms around Shelby's neck and pulled her close, kissing her thoroughly before stepping back to start moving to the music. "I know you used to dance to this song."

It took a few minutes, a Salt-n-Pepa song, and plenty of Santana dancing up on her before the tequila had set in enough to really get Shelby moving. Santana was almost giddy when she finally gave in, feeling Shelby's hands low on her back as they danced together. When the song changed to Janet Jackson's "Black Cat," Santana spun and backed into Shelby, arms moving automatically around Santana.

"Is it 90s night or something?" Shelby asked, speaking directly into Santana's ear. Her warm breath made Santana shiver.

"Thought you might have more fun if you actually knew the songs." Santana was caught off guard when she felt Shelby's lips on her shoulder. She shivered and pressed herself harder against Shelby, keeping her hips moving to the rhythm of the music. When the lips didn't disappear, she reached back and held the back of Shelby's neck, letting her eyes fall closed.

This was new for them. For months, they had to keep their relationship secret, their affections hidden from public view. They had only been "out" as a couple for a little over a month, and it had come with so much scrutiny and criticism that they were less open after the secret was out than they had been previously. Santana didn't care, of course, but Shelby was perpetually concerned. She had hoped getting a few drinks in her and going somewhere she wouldn't know anyone would let her loosen up. She enjoyed their home life, but everyone likes to get out and let their hair down once in awhile. It had been a weekly occurrence for Santana before she became involved with Shelby. She had missed it, though she had given it up voluntarily. She hadn't known for certain if Shelby would be able to have fun, but Santana had rolled the dice.

When she felt Shelby's hand working its way down her hip to reach the bare skin of her thigh, she knew it had been a good bet. Dirty thoughts raced through her mind as Shelby's tongue grazed the other side of her neck. They could do this right here on the dance floor if she wanted. It was packed enough that no one was paying attention to anything but their own dance partners or their drinks. The way Shelby's fingers were inching under the hem of her dress told her she wasn't alone in her thoughts, and her heart started racing. As much as she wanted it, she was enjoying the teasing more – the delaying of the inevitable.

She tilted her head back, pressing her lips to Shelby's throat before breaking away from her and crossing the packed dance floor to return to the bar. Shelby showed up a few seconds later, and Santana couldn't hide her smirk at the flush evident in Shelby's cheeks. She held up two fingers at the bartender, receiving a nod of acknowledgment, and turned to lean back against the bar. She snagged Shelby's hand and pulled her close and right into a kiss.

This time, she got Shelby's number one – Santana had labeled it as such because it was like their first kiss, full of lust and desire. It was tied with number four for her favorite kiss.

"Hey, lovebirds," the bartender shouted, slamming empty shot glasses down on the counter behind Santana to get their attention.

Shelby pulled away immediately, blushing this time from embarrassment rather than excitement. "Sorry!"

"Don't be," Santana said with a grin, pulling Shelby back into her as she corralled their shots. "I've been waiting to see you let loose. I like it."

Shelby laughed and reached for her glass, clinking it to Santana's before they tossed back the tequila together. They skipped the limes again, opting for each other's lips instead as they worked their way back onto the dance floor, easily falling into the rhythm of the music. Santana knew Shelby had truly let go when she let out a whoop at En Vogue's "Free Your Mind."

They danced until they both gave in to the pain caused by their heels. "I need to sit," Shelby yelled, louder than she needed to.

"Me, too," Santana said, grabbing Shelby's hand to lead her further into the club. Shelby anticipated moving toward the wall-length bench, but Santana tugged her away from it and through a curtained doorway.

"Where're we going?"

Santana glanced over her shoulder, feeling smug taking in Shelby's disheveled appearance. "Somewhere private."

"Private? Ooh, 's it the champagne room?" Shelby giggled.

"You coul' say that." Santana knew she was slurring her speech, too, and couldn't help but laugh. She counted doors, stopping at the fourth on the left to test the doorknob. It turned easily and she eased it open, making sure the room was empty before intruding on anyone. Satisfied, she yanked Shelby inside and slammed the door closed, immediately pushing Shelby back against it as she flipped the two locks.

"Oh, we shouldn't do this here," Shelby said, glancing lazily around the dimly lit room.

Before her brother's friend owned it and turned it into a respectable and exclusive establishment, it had been a strip club. He hadn't yet gotten around to converting the private rooms into VIP suites. Santana had never been so grateful.

"Oh, we definitely should." She covered Shelby's mouth with her own so she wouldn't try to protest again.

She knew their kisses were sloppy. She didn't care; they were having fun. It had been a long time since they were somewhere together without a toddler and with what looked to be an extremely comfortable oversized couch. Santana pulled Shelby away from the door, turning them so she could see enough to lead Shelby toward the couch. When they were close, Santana gave her a playful shove, sending her backwards into the copious number of throw pillows.

"Are you gonna give me a lap dance?" Shelby asked, struggling to push herself up to sit comfortably.

Santana glanced at the tacky stripper pole a few feet away. She walked up to it, feeling herself sway unsteadily. She grasped the pole and tossed her hair over her shoulder, throwing her best smoldering stare at Shelby. "Do you want one?"

Shelby gave up trying to sit up in the mess of pillows and threw the extras to the floor. "Do you know how to use that?"

"What, this?" Santana slid her hand up the gleaming metal before tightening her grip to lift herself, spinning around it once. "I may."

"Do that again."

Santana wanted to laugh – she never took pole dancing seriously. She and Brittany had taught themselves in this very room, just for something to do last summer. But the way Shelby was looking at her now…

She pulled herself up again, this time hooking her knee around the pole, spinning as she slid down. She abandoned the pole when her feet hit the ground. It was much to far away from Shelby. Instead, she let her body move to the music that was being piped into the room from the club and worked her way back to the couch, nudging Shelby's knees apart to stand between them.

"You want a dance, baby?" She asked, leaning down to whisper in Shelby's ear. She felt Shelby's hands on her waist and let herself be pulled down to straddle Shelby's lap. Shelby's tongue was in her mouth before she could continue her little role-playing game, and her hands were pushing her tight, short red skirt up her thighs.

Santana moaned, Shelby not hesitating to touch her where she had been waiting for it all night. She had to pull away from their kiss to breathe. This was lacking of their usual grace thanks to the alcohol, too, but it didn't matter. Santana held the back of the couch and worked her hips, making up for Shelby's absent precision. She felt the top of her dress being pulled down, and she moved to help. She pulled her arms out of her dress and glanced to see Shelby immediately yank it down and pop the front clasp of Santana's bra. Her mouth was on her breast immediately, and Santana heard herself moan again, loud this time. Somehow, they had never truly been alone for this. The realization made her arousal double and she covered Shelby's hand with her own, holding her against her body as she pushed her hips down.

"Oh, God." They were the only words she could manage as ecstasy washed over her.

A few seconds later, she dropped back to rest on Shelby's lap, bringing their mouths together. Shelby's kiss was still in category number one, and it took Santana a moment to realize why.

"Trade me," she said against Shelby's lips, already moving to sit on the couch and pull Shelby over her into the same position she was just in.

"Please," Shelby whimpered between kisses, and Santana ran her hand up Shelby's thigh. She groaned and Santana jumped, startled to find nothing but Shelby under the dress.

She had touched her far more roughly than she would have otherwise. "Sorry."

"'S'okay," Shelby managed. "Hard."

Santana shuddered. It had been so long since they were a little rough. She'd forgotten how much they both enjoyed it. She pushed into Shelby without warning, earning a moan of gratitude in response. She moved hard, and fast, and she made sure all Shelby had to do was hold on for the ride.

It wasn't but a few minutes and Shelby had come undone as well, every ounce of the past week's tension dissolving, leaving her slumped in Santana's lap.

Santana reclaimed her hand so she could wrap both arms around Shelby, holding her close. Her head still felt fuzzy and warm and she nuzzled into Shelby's chest, nipping gently at the breasts she had unintentionally ignored in their rushed passion.

"Time 's it?" Shelby mumbled, her voice muffled against Santana's neck.

Santana blindly felt around the couch, trying to find her wristlet that contained her phone. She didn't know where it went or when she had removed it, but it wasn't hooked on her wrist anymore.

"Don't know." She gave up and straightened her back, looking over Shelby's shoulder to spot it by the pole in the center of the room. "Let me up."

Shelby moved with a groan of protest, flopping back onto the couch. Santana laughed at her laziness and slid off the couch, opting to crawl. She could have walked, but this was easier. Plus, her feet were killing her.

"Nice ass," Shelby called, and Santana wiggled her hips before snatching her wristlet and crawling back to haul herself up and onto the couch next to Shelby. She pulled her phone out and checked the time. She had an unread text from Rachel, too.

"Almost 1."

Shelby sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, combing through it a few times to smooth it. "I told Rachel we'd be home by midnight."

Santana swiped across the screen of her phone to check the message.

"She's fine. She texted and said to take our time and have fun."

Shelby sat up and leaned over to see Santana's phone. "She did not." Santana turned her phone so Shelby could see it. "Huh."

"See. She's a good person." Santana typed out a quick reply to Rachel, thanking her and letting her know they would be home soon. She put her phone away and grabbed Shelby's hand, pulling it up to kiss the back of it. "Let's go."

They helped each other off the couch, complaining equally about their feet and the atrocity that heels are to women everywhere. Shelby helped Santana get re-dressed, both of them laughing as she repeatedly tried and failed to secure the clasp on Santana's bra. It took six tries, but she eventually got it.

Deciding they were presentable enough, they made their way back to the main club, walking gingerly. Santana stopped at the curtained doorway and nudged Shelby toward the cushioned bench that bordered the entire club. "Sit. I'll get us some water."

Santana knew she was sober by how badly her feet hurt, but she wasn't taking any chances. Rachel was fine with the extra time, and they could both use a big glass of water to hopefully prevent hangovers.

"You ladies have fun?" the bartender asked Santana as she leaned against the bar to take some weight off her feet.

Santana smirked and glanced over at Shelby, who was bobbing along to the music, not paying attention to Santana. "You could say that."

"Heading out?"

"Soon. Can I get a couple waters? And put the shots on my tab; I'll come by tomorrow and settle up."

"On the house tonight. You two looked like you needed a night out."

Santana picked up the waters and laughed. "You have no idea."

She worked her way back to Shelby, sighing grateful when she sat, taking long gulps of water to help clear the last of the fuzziness from her brain. She heard Shelby quietly singing along to the Ace of Base song that was playing, and she nudged her. "Did they play this at your high school prom?"

"Were you even born when this came out?" Shelby retorted.

They both laughed and jostled each other a bit before settling. Their age difference was no longer an issue between them. It had never been a significant one anyway, but once Santana had graduated, it served only to be a point for humor and good-natured ribbing. Shelby picked at Santana for being so young, and Santana at Shelby for being so old, but they worked regardless of the nineteen years between them.

"Your tits look amazing in that dress, by the way," Santana said over her glass as she paused to speak. "Should have told you earlier." She felt Shelby shove her weakly.

"Hush."

"What? They do."

"Thank you."

Santana's eyes were heavy. Now that they weren't dancing or…doing other things, the late hour was catching up with her. Getting up at 5:00am and chasing a toddler all day wasn't conducive to being out until 1:00am.

"We need to go or I'm not going to make it home without falling asleep," she said as she heaved herself off her seat, finishing her water as she helped Shelby up with her other hand. They left their glasses at the bar and Santana waved her goodbyes to those who shouted her name before they slipped into the elevator to go back to street level.

Shelby was chuckling to herself and Santana raised her eyebrows in a silent question. "Nothing. It's just…I've never made love in a club before."

"Uh oh," Santana said, rocking her hips to the beat in her head.

"Uh oh, what?" Shelby asked, confused.

Santana grinned and started singing, "I can tell by the way you lookin' at me, girl. I wanna make love in this club, yeah, make love in this club, yeah, in this club…"

Shelby laughed and pushed Santana's ass off her. "That can't be a real song."

"Of course it is," Santana said seriously, turning to pin Shelby against the wall of the elevator just as it opened into a deserted lobby. She kept her pinned there, letting the doors close again. She pressed herself closer and captured her lips, kissing her slowly until Shelby turned her head away, breathing heavily.

"I draw the line at sex in a public elevator, Santana."

Santana reached down and grabbed Shelby's backside under her dress, giving it a playful squeeze before pushing away and hitting the button to open the elevator doors again. "For now."

She heard Shelby mutter something under her breath, but didn't bother asking her to repeat it. Instead, she offered her arm to Shelby to take and they walked, elbows linked, back to Santana's car, both immediately kicking off their heels once they sat down.

The drive back to their condo was quiet. Santana could guess Shelby was wishing she wasn't quite so sober, knowing she was going to have to face Rachel again in a few minutes.

As they climbed the stairs, shoes in hand, Shelby stopped one flight short. "Does it bother her that we're together?"

Santana turned at the top of the stairs and looked down, shrugging. "She's never said anything about it to me."

If Rachel was bothered that her estranged mother was dating her former bully, she had either gotten over it or chosen to keep quiet. Santana had assumed she was over it; she really did feel that Rachel was a good, understanding person, and that she would never be angry about someone else's happiness. Of course, Rachel was always jealous when she or Mercedes got the rare solo, but never once did she hesitate to congratulate them. Santana had discovered in their weeks apart since graduation, and since having her outlook on life and other people drastically altered by basically becoming a parent overnight, that she had treated and misread Rachel terribly throughout high school. Truth be told, she was actually hopeful Rachel and Shelby would fully reconcile. She wanted to try being friends with Rachel. After all, she still hadn't ruled out going to New York City in the fall, and it would be nice to have a trustworthy friend in the city. It would be even nicer if that friend and her girlfriend and her girlfriend's daughter could get along. Even though the girlfriend is the friend's mother and the daughter is their other friends' daughter…

Santana shook her head. If she thought about it too long, it got weird. "Let's go. She's probably tired."

Santana unlocked the door quietly, expecting Rachel to be asleep. Instead, she saw Rachel sitting on the couch, whisper-singing along to The Music Man playing on the TV, complete with arm choreography. She smiled and moved aside to let Shelby through – it was so obvious, now, from whom Rachel inherited her drive and personality. She had walked in on Shelby doing much the same on more than one occasion. She whistled, getting Rachel's attention.

"Oh, hi!" Rachel said in a hushed voice. "Sorry, hope you don't mind; I raided your DVD rack tonight. There were just too many masterpieces to ignore."

"It's fine," Shelby answered, crossing the room to set her shoes in the bedroom. "How'd it go?"

"Oh it was fine. Beth is an absolute doll. We played a little bit and I read her a book and she went right to sleep, like you said she would. So easy."

Santana slipped past them and into the bedroom, trying not to interrupt but wanting to eavesdrop a little. She hovered by the dresser, out of sight from either woman in the living room.

"Good. I'm glad."

"Did you and Santana have fun? You look like you had a good time."

Santana snorted a laugh and didn't bother stifling it. She hoped it made Shelby blush.

"Dinner and dancing. She took me to this underground club. It was 90s night."

"Did you actually know the songs?"

"I did!" Shelby said with a laugh, and Santana heard Rachel's quiet giggle. Then, a few moments later, "I really appreciate this, Rachel."

"Oh, no, I appreciate it, Shelby. We've stopped and started our progress so many times. I hope that this – you trusting me with Beth, and in your home – maybe means it won't stop this time. I really do want us to get to know one another. At least as friends, if nothing more."

Santana could hear the longing in Rachel's voice. Santana didn't know what it was like to grow up without a mother. Rachel was always happy with her two fathers, but sometimes, like now, Santana knew how much Rachel missed having a maternal presence in her life.

"Well…we'll keep taking it one step at a time. Maybe we can keep a good pace this time. I'll try not to drop the ball. Again."

"I'd like that very much."

It was quiet so long, Santana started wondering if they were hugging. She walked past the door as quietly as she could, glancing into the living room as she pulled the covers down on the well-made bed. They weren't hugging, but she could tell Rachel was doing all she could to keep herself planted on the couch instead of launching herself at Shelby. Shelby was hugging herself, staring at the floor. The awkwardness was starting to even kill Santana, so she spoke up.

"So the little goober behaved, Rache?"

Shelby glanced at her, offering a small smile of gratitude.

"Yeah, she was really great. Thank you for calling me, Santana."

"Ain't no thing." Santana joined Shelby, who had moved to hover in the bedroom doorway. "I saw on Facebook you were home for the weekend, thought you might not have plans. You going back to New York on Monday?"

"Tomorrow night. I have voice lessons Monday through Thursday that I can't miss. I only made it home because of the holiday being in the middle of the week so everything from Wednesday on was canceled."

"How are things going at NYADA?" Shelby asked. Santana glanced at her, relieved and maybe a little proud.

"Well, it's just summer prep, I'm not really in any courses yet. They have me working with a private coach. She said I could be a star pupil if she can, quote, 'whip me into shape.'"

Santana smiled. She couldn't even begin to imagine the debates that had to have happened when someone told Rachel Berry her voice wasn't good enough.

"That's good. They don't give everyone that privilege. They must really believe in you."

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it," Rachel said with a shrug. "Well, most times. I'm not used to being one of a thousand; I used to be one in a thousand."

"You should thank me for all those times I told you that you weren't any good," Santana said. "Think of it as basic training for college."

"Gee, thanks," Rachel said, laughing as she stood.

"Anytime. I know you'll knock 'em dead." The look on Rachel's face warmed Santana's heart. She really didn't understand how she could have been so mean to someone who was so pure of heart. She really was messed up. She was glad she was changing.

"That means a lot coming from you, Santana. Thank you."

"Sure." Santana turned and swatted Shelby's backside, making her jump. "Honey, pay the girl so we can go to bed, I'm about to pass out standing up." She left them to their conversation and goodbyes, closing herself in the bathroom to strip out of her dress and lingerie and wash the makeup off her face and the tequila out of her mouth. She skipped her usual T-shirt for pajamas and opted to climb into bed nude. She knew it was a good decision when the cold sheets enveloped her, pulling her to sleep almost immediately. She heard the front door click shut, and saw the darkness grow as Shelby turned out the lights.

A few minutes later, Shelby slid into bed behind her, pulling her close to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Thank you, Santana."