Something happens over time when people, especially lycans, spend a lot of time together.  They become family.  Not just family in the way one does when you decide you're going to be one or when you're born into a group of people with blood being the binding factor; when you share everything that could be considered heaven and hell together and still come out standing, you truly have a bond that very little can ever break.

It happened with the tigers.  There was no significant point in time that she could identify as 'there, that's the moment we became family', it was an evolution that you only recognized when it was complete.   The tigress was having a spot of trouble adjusting to the new situation.  The past two years she had withdrawn from life and became something less than human, less than tiger.  She became a machine.  When you're a machine, you do not have to feel, you do not have to hurt.  The part she neglected to dwell upon, you don't get the chance to love either.

Santana reminded her of that in a way she knew Jenna could understand.  Not with long drawn out, passionate conversations, not with constant harassing.  But by sending her a note and a key and telling her to check it out.

The house was amazing.  Classic New Orleans, the old style.  Somehow it was preserved after the big storm, restored to its former glory and was now being purchased.  By Santana and Jenna.    The first step inside opened up a room that gleamed in virgin splendor.  White walls, hardwood floors, and crown moldings that would make a royal jittery with excitement.   The elegant walk through each room revealed everything a woman like Jenna could appreciate.  A parlor, a music room, a library, a majestic dining room, a library.   Upstairs the bedrooms were breathtaking, a fire place in each, those same crown moldings and flawless hardwood floors.

The pair had no long conversations, a few words about possible plans for livelihood and from that Santana knew what to do.

When it hit her, she was unclear what to do with it. It started in the center of her chest like a great pressure and swelled upward until there was no choice but to blink back tears and focus on breathing.  This was love.  This was what happened when those around you who cared, saw you struggling, and stepped in to do what you'd been doing for them for years.

Looking out the large window over the grounds that held fountains and a garden that could be the envy of all, Jenna knew what she was going to do.   She had a business once upon a time, a thriving one.  She'd been spying buildings in her various jaunts over the city, and one caught her eye as the perfect setting for the business she once ran so successfully in London.

For this moment, right here, right now, there was hope.  Possibility.   A chance to taste life again without shutting down every possible emotion and reaction.   One did not brush that off in seconds, if at all.

One more walk through the home, a phone call to Santana's voicemail that simply said, "Perfect", and Jenna was off again.   She had one more thing to accomplish today, then she would deal with the implications that act may bring.  Or she would at least try.