Well this is the last of this story. Thanks so much to everyone who stuck with me to the end. I loved writing this story. It was so fun, I literally laugh at some of the stuff I write and I hope I was able to make you laugh as well.

Cheers!

Epilogue

Uncovering Pierce Empire and the secret underground game cult

"Why is our company the feature story in the newspaper?" Santana slammed the daily news on the desk of her very scared public relations manager.

"Have you read it Ms. Pierce?" She stuttered. "It says P.E. is the most revolutionary thing since Facebook."

"Marley," Santana grasped her perfectly curled hair in an effort to control her temper and her hands from slapping Marley across the face. "You had one job, ONE JOB! Keep the Pierce name out of the media."

"I'm sorry; I didn't know that they were doing a story on your empire." Marley was on the verge of tears. Working for the Pierce's was hard especially on the days that mean boss Pierce was in the building – kind boss Pierce never shouted, she would only give you the I'm disappointed look and that would be enough for you to get your shit together immediately. Today mean boss Pierce was absolutely terrifying. "It's so hard to keep everything quiet, what this company does is genius and amazing, it's like trying to keep the most wanted secret in the world – and it's so hard."

"I don't even know why I hired you," Santana crossed her arms. "Oh right, because I fired the last PR manager after two weeks and I needed someone ASAP and my wife recommended you."

"I'm…I'm new to this and, I'm sorry. Are you going to fire me?"

"You really have the nerve to ask me that? Of course you're fired. Give me your keys and clear your desk right now. Britt's got a doctor's appointment and I'm already going to be late."

"But you have a personal helicopter," Marley replied as she grabbed the few objects that had found their home on her desk.

"I know, but I have to be there before Britt to threaten the doctor,"

Marley was thoroughly confused but didn't dare say anymore. She dropped the keys she had used all but ten times into the palm of Santana's hand and ran out as fast as she could.

Armed with her stellar good looks, sharp tongue and incredibly tall stilettos, Santana marched through the halls of the hospital grabbing the attention of every nurse and doctor. She didn't mind of course that people fainted at the sight of her as long as her name didn't end up in the media. She had made it her mission to protect the new life that she and Brittany had been given.

"Where is Doctor Mortimer?" She asked at the desk, "I need to see him immediately.'

The old lady behind the computer barely looked up at her. "Do you have an appointment Miss?"

"Yes, Pierce." She tapped her fingers impatiently.

"Your appointment isn't for another half hour, please wait in the sitting room."

"Did you not hear me? I need to see the doctor now. Look just because you are a sorry excuse for a failed diet doesn't mean other people aren't going with their lives and have important things to discuss with their doctor, so would you kindly send for Dr. Mortimer RIGHT NOW!"

The woman still did not budge and even had the nerve to give Santana the 'look at all the fucks I give' look.

Frustrated Santana stomped away. The day had not begun like Santana expected. Oh wait, stroke of luck!

"Hello doctor, I was just looking for you!" A brilliant smile quickly transformed on her face and in a second she was hooking her arm in the arms of the confused doctor and leading him away. She pushed into a room to the protest of Dr. Mortimer and turned on the light.

"Oh god, I hate this room. There are usually people uh…doing…having sexual intercourse."

"So this is the on-call room? Wanky." Santana took in her surroundings. It was a simple room, perfect for getting down and dirty then getting out real fast. "Anyways, that's kind of what I need to talk to you about." She turned back to the doctor who literally looked like a rolly polly teddy bear with a mustache.

"If you are looking for relationship council, I'm sure Anna at the front desk can direct you to…"

"Oh is that the bitch's name? Could you tell the chief that she needs to be replaced immediately as her unenthusiastic nature is giving patients and relatives the urge to overdose on depression pills? Thanks. But that's not what I want to talk about."

"Are you well Miss?" The doctor asked.

"Oh, I'm perfectly well. It's my wife that is going to need you today."

"Ah, is she giving birth? I assume that because that is my specialty at this hospital."

"No, no, no… if she was giving birth don't you think I'd be carrying a giant everything-a-pregnant woman-could-ever-need bag? The very problem is that she isn't pregnant – well not yet."

"I see so you and you're wife are trying to get pregnant?"

"Precisely."

Dr. Mortimer smiled, much more in his element now. "Well, do you need me to go through the procedures with you? There are many ways to impregnate a woman."

"No, no, no we've already done an insemination…for the third time." Santana sighed. Each time they had changed hospitals because Santana believed it was the doctor's fault that it wasn't sticking. Brittany had wanted Santana to do it at home but she just couldn't. As badass as she was, squirting semen up her wife's vagina was worse than seeing blood or blowing up a building.

"And you want me to check if she's pregnant?"

"Yes, I mean…we did the whole pee on a stick things multiple times – well actually, like thirty times. But I want to make sure before I let myself be really excited."

"Then I see that today I could be the bearer of good news!" Dr. Mortimer smiled.

"It's too early to say that; don't get my hopes up." Santana scolded the genuinely happy doctor. "What I need you to do is if by some fucking unlucky chance that she's not pregnant because I've been on a mean streak the past week and karma has a way of messing up my perfect life, you need to tell my wife as gently and delicately as possible that it didn't work out this time but that she has so much potential to make a baby okay? Like, I better see an Olympic winning smile on your face. Get it?"

"Miss, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Let's just stay positive okay?"

Santana's face dropped and Dr. Mortimer feared he had said something to upset her.

"Oh my god. What if all the negativity from me is in some weird way feeding to the baby and it realizes it doesn't want to come into the world if I'm its other mother? Like I fucking know I'm in no way involved in creating this baby but, what if the connection thing is actually killing the baby?" She became hysterical and was almost crying. "Fuck it, my whole life has been about killing people and maybe it's my fault Britt can't have our baby. Or maybe all the fetuses in the world hate me and can see what a horrible mother I'll be in the future."

"Oh Miss," the doctor did a brave act that he felt should award him a medal for risking his life. He hugged Santana and patted her on the back repeatedly. "Don't blame yourself, babies are tricky little things and whether they are created or not is a matter of science, none of this connection that you are talking about."

"Thanks," Santana drew away, "That made me feel a lot better."

Dr. Mortimer nodded before checking his pager. It had buzzed, alerting him that it was time for his next appointment. "Well, I have an appointment with a Mrs. Pierce for a pregnancy check-up," He smiled at Santana, "Do you happen to be the other Mrs. Pierce?"

Santana nodded.

"Then shall we?" Dr. Mortimer extended his arm and they walked out together the way they had before.

After finding out that Brittany was indeed pregnant and Santana doing her happy dance because damn it was about time, Santana dragged Brittany to the mall to get baby clothes.

On the way to the mall Brittany brought up what happened that morning with Marley. She was unhappy that Santana had fired her and gave Santana a Nobel peace worthy speech on why Marley should be given another chance. Santana was too happy to not give her wife whatever she asked for so she promptly called Marley and hired her again. There wasn't even a threat or warning from Santana because she was fucking happy and nothing was going to knock her off her high – well, except for one Rachel Berry.

"Are you sure it was her?" Santana said, hiding behind the pregnant mannequin inside a maternity clothes store.

"Yes San, I wouldn't forget that nose or those bangs. I'd recognize Rachel Berry anywhere no matter what disguise. I actually think the disguise works against her because only Rachel Berry would be so obvious with her overboard wardrobe."

"Why do you think she's here?" Santana started to think of all the reasons why Rachel could be following them around.

"I don't know." Brittany went on looking at a giant pair of jeans, "you aren't being very conspicuous either, your ass is sticking out and making the mannequin look even fatter than it already is. These jeans are never going to fit me. Am I going to get this fat?"

"The fatter the better baby," Santana stopped spying for Rachel when there was no sign of her. "I'm going to feed you the best stuff, because mini you needs to be strong and smart."

"Like her mami?"

"You are cute Mrs. Pierce," Santana pulled Brittany in and gave her an inappropriate smooch.

"No can not! You stop!" The shop owner started shouting to Santana's annoyance. Who did he think he was, ruining her moment?

Without warning he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front of his shop. He pointed to a row of stickers on the glass of his display.

"No can do,"

Santana rolled her eyes at the ridiculous things not allowed.

"No pda, no singing, no gangnam style, no farting, no English, no weird alien looking fruit, no nudity, what the hell? Let's go Britt." She gave the owner the evil eye before turning on her heels.

They had been shopping for an hour and ended up buying four giant bags of clothes, toys, baby essentials and maybe a sexy lingerie set that Santana absolutely had to have because Brittany mentioned how hot Santana would look in it."

"I'm hungry; I'm craving ice-cream." If Brittany was already having cravings, Santana was on that shit faster than Brittany could say 'please'. It was totally something Brittany was going to take advantage of because doting Santana was the best Santana.

Standing in line, Santana was only focused on getting to the front of the line as fast as possible. She'd already bribed two small children with promises that the ice-cream lady would give them more sprinkles if they let her go first. They hadn't believed her at first but she convinced them that her word was law and the ice-cream lady was pretty much bound to do what she said. So now there was only one amazingly (not a compliment) dressed, incredibly short person in front of her.

"Hey lady, I've got an incredibly pregnant wife who's going to die if she doesn't get her ice and cream right now so do you mind if I order first?" No one needed to know that she made a slight exaggeration. The woman turned around and in that instant Santana's life flashed before her eyes, mostly memories of a certain overbearing, theatrical, hobbit. "Rachel?"

"Santana!" she squealed but then lowered her voice.

Santana was torn between running and getting that fucking ice-cream. Shit, ice-cream was not worth talking to Rachel Berry. Did Rachel being here mean that they would have to flee to another obscure land? Because Santana was not feeling it, she'd already gotten accustomed to the summer fruit flies here and she did not want to adapt to some new shit just because Rachel Berry showed her face.

"Hey, where are you going?" The ice-cream lady had taken that opportunity to ask Rachel for her order which gave Santana a chance to get the fuck out of there. Rachel was torn, but she had a mission – one which could not be stopped for her favorite yo-fro. So she ran after Santana.

"When did duck feet get so fast?" Santana looked over her shoulder to see Rachel trailing them not far off.

"When did you get so slow?" Brittany asked as she led Santana through the thin crowds.

"It's these heels," she complained. "They're meant for cat walks not for running."

"Then take them off,"

"But then Rachel will catch us."

"Well maybe we could hear what she has to say? If she's here maybe it's something important."

"I don't want to hear how she won an Oscar award for portraying Aung San Suu Kyi in a ridiculous American portrayal of Burma's struggle for freedom."

"Wait." This time Brittany really paused. "Did that really happen? And how do you know that? You totally keep track of her career don't you?"

"Yes, no. I read about the movie fiasco from a critic in the papers – it was really bad and completely inaccurate also Rachel's delivery of the famous speech would bring Suu Kyi to tears from how overly dramatic it was."

"Well, then we should probably start by congratulating her." Brittany said.

Santana turned around and sure enough Rachel Berry was upon them.

"Hello Rachel," Santana said with a hint of annoyance. " Before you speak and not let anyone else get in a word, I just want to tell you that if you're a bearer of bad news which you usually are, then just walk away because Britts and I are on a fucking high and ain't no unworthy Oscar winner gonna rain on my parade. Don't even say anything about Barbra."

"It's very nice to see you again too Santana, congratulations on having a baby Brittany!"

"Actually, the baby hasn't arrived yet."

"Oh, I thought…since Santana said you were very pregnant and you certainly have regained your pre-pregnant figure…"

"Mini Brittany is in there rolling her eyes at you right now Rachel, so what are you really here for?"

"Technically she or he hasn't developed eyes yet," Brittany corrected.

"Whatever, she knows what I mean."

"Ahem, well contrary to what you think, I'm not here with any bad news. I've only come to make an inquiry."

"If this is about yours and Finn's second fifth anniversary, then no, we will not be attending and a card would have sufficed. I haven't missed your face that much that I needed to see you in person."

"That is coming up, but with Brittany pregnant I couldn't possibly ask you to come. What I'm really here for is for some info about Rory Flanagan."

"Oh did you not hear? He's been stone dead for a while now. I know cus' I watched his grave like a vulture for three days after we buried him."

"No, Quinn and Puck have been working together to finish off the rest of Flanagan's cohorts but there is one more they need a confirmation on."

"Quinn put you up to this, I knew it. That bitch has a funny way of saying hi, do you miss me? Here, I'm sending all my love through the most annoying messenger ever."

"If I didn't know Brittany was carrying, I'd have thought you were the pregnant one Santana."

"Did you just imply I'm having a pregnant woman's mood swing? Because…"

"Hey San," Brittany broke up the petty argument. Quinn really should have thought twice before sending Rachel. "We're drawing attention."

"Fine Rachel, sorry you had to come all this way for nothing. Brittz and I got nothing for you."

"Okay," Rachel looked sad for all of two seconds before she was all sunshine and rainbows again.

"At least, they got the Prince right?" Brittany threw in.

"Wait! Repeat what you said?" Rachel rummaged through her bag for a notepad with a pencil poking out of its spine. Was she serious? Did she enjoy role playing as stripped shirt Steve in Blue's clues?

"…Prince…of some place like Iran or Iraq, I can't remember."

"Nope, there's no Prince on this list she gave me. You have been very helpful today Brittany." Rachel beamed.

"And you are no longer welcome in our presence Rachel. Tell Quinn to up her game cus' I have a family with a kid now."

"Oh, Quinn and Mike are adopting a cute little Chinese boy because they found out Mike was impotent. Tragic really."

"So like, they're having a kid together? Soon?"

"Well, they're raising a child together; it's not quite the same…"

"Tell Quinn we're having twins and that sperm-donated babies count more than adopted ones."

Both Brittany and Rachel had 'what the fuck' faces on. The Fabray – Lopez (now Pierce) rivalry was alive and well and getting more heated.

Once Rachel had gone, Brittany addressed the question that had been on her mind for the past fifteen minutes. "Do you really want twins?"

"I want all the babies with you," Santana smirked. "I want a whole gymnastic team and a soccer team."

"Seems like I've got my life's work cut out for me," Brittany mouse kissed Santana, "I've got a demanding wife."

"Do you not want lots of kids with me?" Santana pouted. "Because just one is fine, I mean, I'm going to love the shit out of that kid."

"How about we take them one at a time?" Brittany responded.

"Okay, one at a time."

Fin.

PS: Since I'm done with this story, if anyone has a prompt for me, you can drop me a PM.

Much love.