Summary:A day in Santana and Brittany's 1st Trimester. Part of my "Trains and Sewing Machines verse. Written for Brittana Week Day One.

Santana doesn't usually drive when they go to Big Sur. She's never had to admit it aloud to Brittany, but she's afraid of heights and the steep cliffs off of the Pacific Coast Highway terrify her. There really is no other way to get to Big Sur, however, so they silently acknowledged years ago that Brittany would drive once they hit that part of the freeway.

She's driving, today, however, with one hand on the wheel and one on Brittany's stomach, focusing all of her energy on keeping her eyes on the road and not looking out the window and the supposedly beautiful view.

"I'm really glad we decided to do this," Brittany says, "and you know, I can drive honey, if you want."

"No, I can do it this time, Britt," Santana says. "And I'm glad we're going too. I needed a spur of the moment vacation."

One Week Earlier

"Don't forget we have an appointment with Dr. Lieberman at two today, Santana," Brittany yells down the hall as Santana shuffles through the key bowl they keep by the door. Brittany is still sitting at the kitchen table, frowning over her calendar and absentmindedly playing with the cat on the table.

"I could never forget, baby!" Santana says. "Why are there so many damn keys in this bowl? Only two of us live here!"

"We have Quinn and Justin's spares, Kurt's spares, and Mercedes and James' spares. Plus all of those keys that we're not sure what door they're for. And it's soon to be three people living here! And your keys are on the coffee table!" Santana groans and drops her briefcase by the door as she runs into the living room to get her keys.

"Why is everyone leaving their spare keys with us?" Santana yells as she snatches the keys up off the coffee table. She runs back into the hallway, surprised to find Brittany standing there, Santana's to-go mug in her hand.

"Because we're extremely reliable and trustworthy, honey," Brittany says, leaning down to kiss Santana on the nose and handing her the mug. "Good luck in your meeting today, and don't forget, two-o-clock."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Take care of little Nico or August or Olivia or Amy for me, okay?"

"Or Rain. And of course I will."

"Love you, B, see you at two!" Santana says as she walks out of the door.

Santana is nervous her entire drive to work. They're having a meeting about who is going to take on one of their new clients, an up-and-coming actor. Taking him on would mean another step toward partner, and she knows that's what she and Brittany need right now. The only problem is that she knows she's been off her game lately. Between Dr.'s appointments and general excitement about the baby, she just hasn't had the time or the energy to focus on work. Plus, she wants to take some maternity leave once the baby comes, although her boss doesn't know about that yet, of course.

"Nervous, Pierce?" Jim asks when he gets into the elevator next to Santana.

"Not a bit. Why, are you?" Santana scoffs at him, not bothering to take her sunglasses off of her face.

"Would be if I were you. What, with the wife expecting and all."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please. She's either sick or pregnant. No one needs to go to the doctor that much. Trust me, I know, I have two of my own."

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

"Oh, relax, Pierce. Your secret is safe with me. Besides, I have this in the bag, pregnant wife or not."

They haven't told anyone, of course. Brittany is insisting on being superstitious about it and waiting the full three months.

"We'll see about that," Santana says, walking out of the elevator.

"If you need anyone to talk to about the baby, don't hesitate to ask!" Jim says as Santana walks toward her office.

"I'm really glad you guys could come over," Brittany says, opening the door for Quinn. Lily ignores her and makes a beeline for the cat and Quinn shifts Harper on her hip to give Brittany a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for inviting us," Quinn says, sighing. "I really needed to get out of the house. It's just been the girls and me for three weeks and you know sometimes I just need a little adult time? Where have you and Santana been lately, anyway?"

"We've been here, just a little busy lately. Look at this little one," Brittany says, taking Harper from Quinn. "She's getting so big!" Harper squirms in Brittany's arms. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, a morning mimosa?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks," Quinn says, taking a seat at the kitchen table. She catches Brittany up on her life while Brittany fusses around the kitchen, making coffee and getting out some bagels. Brittany pours Quinn her cup of coffee and takes a seat at the kitchen table.

"Are you going to have some?" Quinn asks, eyeing Brittany's glass of water.

"No, I don't think I need it right now." Quinn smirks at Brittany as she blows on her coffee. Brittany pretends not to notice.

"So…are you going to tell me or not? I'm tired of pussyfooting around this." Quinn says, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Tell you what?"

"C'mon, B. We all know how much you like your coffee."

"I just decided that everyone has been right all these years and I really don't need the extra caffeine."

"Okay, Brittany, let's be real here for just a second, okay? I've been pregnant three times. Three times! You have that glow, the last time I was here I saw Santana pick up a Fed Ex envelope for you, you both drank water, you're not drinking coffee, and you left a copy of "The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians" in the bathroom."

"Oops," Brittany says, blushing through her small smile.

"Oops?" Quinn asks, grinning. "Congratulations, B! I'm so happy for you!"

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone yet."

"Don't worry, B, your secret is safe with me! Oh my goodness, I'm so excited! Can I throw the baby shower? Is it a boy or a girl? If it's a girl, I have plenty of hand-me-downs, you won't ever have to buy her clothes. Oh my goodness, you and Santana are going to be such great parents! Well, you're going to be a great Mom…Santana's going to be crazy, super-protective Mom."

"I'm really happy," Brittany says, hugging Quinn. "We've just been trying for so long!"

"Why-a huggin?" Lily asks, grabbing Quinn around the leg.

"Just because, sweetheart," Quinn says, patting Lily on the top of the head and giving Brittany a knowing smile.

"Is it cause Aunt B is having a baby?"

"What?"

"I'm a kid but I can still hear, Mommy," Lily says.

"She reminds me of Santana," Brittany says.

"Fucking assholes!" Santana yells, slamming on her horn. "Fucking motherfucker assholes! Fucking LA traffic!"

She's only ten minutes late when she arrives at the Doctor's Office, which is practically on time in LA time, but she feels terrible. She doesn't even really care that her meeting went terribly or that she probably is not going to get this new client. It's 2:10 and Brittany and mini-Brittany were relying on her to be there at 2:00 and she let them down.

"I'm so sorry," Santana says, rushing into the room. Brittany is already in a gown with her feet up in stirrups.

"Don't worry, Mama S," the nurse says. "We just got Mama B ready to go." The nurse squeezes a bit of gel onto Brittany's stomach. She quietly rolls the wand over Brittany's stomach smiling a bit as she listens to the heartbeat.

"Okay, Mama S and Mama B, here is your sonogram," the nurse says, pointing to the sepia tone image moving around on the screen. It's not their first sonogram, but Brittany's not sure she'll ever stop getting emotional when they see images of the little blob that's going to be their baby. The nurse is writing arrows and letters on the picture this time, though.

"Is everything okay?" Santana asks. She's leaning over Brittany eyeing the picture, her face furrowed in concern.

"Let me explain," the nurse says, rounding the chair so she can look at the picture over Brittany's shoulder. "This," she says, pointing to one circle, "is Baby A, and this," she says, pointing to the other circle, "is Baby B." The nurse grins.

"You mean?" Brittany asks, her eyes wide. The nurse just smiles and nods. Brittany looks over at Santana who has remained silent. "Are you crying, honey?" Brittany asks.

"I'll leave you two alone. It's a lot to take in."

"Are you okay, Santana?" Brittany asks as soon as the nurse shuts the door behind her. Santana's been so silent and now the tears are running down her cheeks.

"Twins, Britt, we're having twins." Santana finally says. Her eyes are wide and childlike and full of disbelief. Brittany's not sure whether to take her reaction as fear or worry or happiness. "Twins, Britt!" Santana says, jumping out of her seat and gingerly embracing Brittany, careful not to press her body against Brittany's stomach. "We're having twins!"

Santana kisses her and it's slow and passionate all at once. The doctor comes in and awkwardly clears her throat to let them know that everything seems healthy and that they can go. She helps Brittany get dressed, even though she's not even three months along yet and she can dress herself perfectly fine, but it seems like the right thing to do now, since Brittany is carrying their twins. She opens the door to her convertible for Brittany, and Brittany rolls her eyes at Santana's constant display and chivalry and bravado, even though she secretly (and not so secretly) enjoys it most of the time.

She doesn't notice Santana is crying again until their sitting at a stoplight on the intersection of Sunset and Hollywood.

"Are you okay, Santana?" Brittany asks, taking Santana's hand over the console.

"I'm just wondering if you're hungry. Maybe we should stop in the Von's? We're going to have to get you twice as much food since you're feeding three now! Three, Britt! You're so small, how are you going to feed two other people? We have to stop for food." Santana is full sobbing now and the light has changed and the cars behind them are yelling and beeping their horns.

"Baby, why don't you pull into the Von's? Let's get off the road, okay?"

They sit in the parking lot of the grocery store, Santana crying and Britany rubbing her back slowly.

"How can you be so calm?" Santana finally asks once the sobbing subsides.

"What else am I going to do? We're going to have these babies whether I'm calm or not."

"Aren't you worried about having two crying infants? Two terrible two-year-olds? Two unruly teenagers?"

"How do you know they're going to be unruly?"

"C'mon, Britt. They're our kids."

"We should go to Big Sur."

"Why would we do that now? I mean, we can't do that now," Santana continues, gesticulating wildly with her hands. "We can't go on vacation ever again. Or eat out. Or go to the movies. We have to start saving, Brittany! How are we going to send them to college? We should have started a college fund years ago and now we're going to have a Laura Winslow moment!"

"What are you talking about, sweetheart?"

"Laura Winslow," Santana says, drawing out the second word. "Family Matters? She gets into Harvard but Carl can't pay the tuition? C'mon, baby. Steve Urkel?"

"Oh, yeah! I'm sorry I can't keep track of all of your pop culture references, San," Brittany says, still rubbing small circles on Santana's back. "You need to relax, honey. First of all, we have a savings account, so I'm not sure what you're so worried about there. Second of all, we just found out we're pregnant, how long ago do you think we should have started a college fund? When you were in college? When we were in high school?"

"Probably! Think of all the money we wasted on Breadstix? On movies we paid for and then spent the entire time making out? We could have made out at home for free!"

"Your mom would have walked in on us all the time. And you specifically told me that you 'didn't want to sing about making lady babies'."

"You're really never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"No, I'm really not." Santana grins and leans her head on the headrest.

"So, why are we going to Big Sur this weekend?"

"Because we need to relax. This will probably be the last time we get to go anywhere without having to worry about babysitters and car seats and whether or not the restaurant is child-friendly. This will be our last vacation when our family is just us."

"Okay," Santana said. "Let's do it."

So here she is driving up the PCH. It's not long before they arrive at the house—the same one they've been renting for years. Santana carries the bags in and insists that Brittany relax on the couch.

"Bath?" Santana asks after the last of the bags has been brought in and put away.

"Yes, please," Brittany replies. Santana draws the bath, making sure the water is not too warm and that there is just the right amount of bubbles. She's been doing this for years—she has it down to a science. Santana helps Brittany climb in first, then settles down behind her, resting her hands on Brittany's slightly protruding belly.

"I can't believe you have two babies in there," Santana says.

"They're not really babies yet, San. They're more like…blobs of cells with miniature limbs. Like stubby aliens."

"Do not call our children 'stubby aliens', Britt! I'm sure they're beautiful."

"I don't know if I'd say that just yet." Brittany shuts her eyes and allows the smell of Santana and bubbles and the warm water to lull her to sleep.

"Are you going to take your hand off of my belly for the next seven months?" Brittany asks, opening one eye.

"Probably not," Santana says. "I have to protect the three of you. My little family."

"I think I'm okay with that," Brittany says.

"Good," Santana replies. "Cause your stuck with me."