"Can you stop with the swearing?"

"It's in Spanish. No one knows what I'm saying."

"75% of McKinley High takes Spanish class and 100% of those kids only know the swears. Stop. Swearing."

Santana rolls her eyes at her girlfriend and can't help but let out one more swear. "Puta."

"Do you feel better now, Santana?"

"Why yes, Quinn. I do." Santana smirks and Quinn rolls her eyes. Santana looks around Friendly's restaurant and can't help but want to kick a baby. She'd be able to manage this kind of thing if it was just her and Quinn. But that was the whole problem; they weren't going to be alone for long. "Why did you have to set us up on a double date with them?"

"You can sacrifice one night, S. Besides, they are our best friends."

"Separately! You know I love B. I just don't love B with Man Hands."

"It's Rachel. Oh, they're coming!"

Rachel and Brittany, hand in hand, walk in and slide into the booth opposite of them. They're giggling and Santana can already tell this is not going to go well.

Santana was right. Not only did Rachel continuously keep her hand on Brittany's thigh, but she kissed her at least three times.

Santana grinds her teeth and almost throws a plate at Rachel when she disgustingly feeds Brittany a fry.

Santana leans towards Quinn and whispers in her ear. (Not that it matters, since Brittany and Rachel weren't paying attention to them anyway.) "I want out of here."

Quinn grabs Santana's arm and whispers back, "One night out with our friends, S. That's all I'm asking for."

"You can't tell me their cuteness isn't sickening?"

"Actually, S, I like their adorableness. Maybe we should act that way."

Santana physically recoils and takes her arm away from Quinn's. She puts her head down on the table. "This is not happening."

Quinn hisses, "Sit up, Santana. You are worse than a four-year-old."

Santana sits up and crosses her arms. "Am not."

Brittany finally leans forward and acknowledges the Latina. "Guess what Santana! I'm going to try fishing this weekend with my dad."

"Cool, B."

Rachel coos, "You're going to do amazing, babe."

Santana makes a gagging noise.

Dessert comes in the form of ice cream sundaes and of course Rachel and Brittany share one.

Quinn decides to have a little fun and test her unhappy girlfriend. "I'm dying my hair brown."

Santana chokes on the ice cream in her mouth and spits some of it out. "That's really nauseating, Santana. And not good hygiene."

"Shut it, Berry."

Brittany frowns. "Santana don't be mean."

Santana ignores her friend and stares at Quinn. "You are not dying your hair brown."

"Why not? I might like it that way."

"Q I love your hair the way it is."

"I want a change."

Santana lets out a growl. "Damn it, Q."

"You are so unsupportive."

"Quinn I'm fucking supportive. I just like your hair blonde."

Quinn's furious. "Would you break up with me if I dyed it brown?"

Santana takes a deep breath and counts to ten like her therapist taught her. It helps, except not at all.

Santana tries her best to muster up her best sweet girlfriend voice. "Quinn dye your hair purple for all I care. It doesn't matter." She looks around and kisses Quinn quickly before anyone can see. Santana's not big on PDA, at least not with someone she really cares about. Puck she had to do things in public with because of her reputation. Quinn is...special, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She likes keeping what they have to themselves.

The night progresses and Santana goes through all the ways in her head that she can escape this never-ending date of hell. She thinks about faking sick, but Quinn would see right through it and then withhold sex. She thinks about stabbing Rachel with a fork, but then she'd be arrested for assault which means no sex. Well, no sex with Quinn, anyway, which is what she really wants.

She even has a vivid daydream of shouting FIRE at the top of her lungs and picking up Quinn and running. But she figures that would make her seem crazy and thus no sex.

So, she's stuck.

Now the foursome is at the beach. It's totally cliché and obviously Brittany and Rachel are enjoying themselves. They are far away up the beach, collecting shells because Britt thinks it's the best thing ever. Rachel thinks it's the cutest thing ever because it's dark out which means Britt keeps pouting because she can't find the shells.

Quinn's annoyed because Santana won't pay attention to her. "You know, you could actually be enjoying yourself if you just paid attention to me and not them. Why does it bother you so much? Do you like Brittany or something?"

"God, Q. No. Absolutely not. I'm with you and only want you. I'm just not into that mushy crap."

"Well…what if I am?"

Santana groans and turns her back. "You've never been this way, Quinn. I hate Rachel Berry."

"I don't think it's asking much to want to hold your hand, Santana!"

Santana turns back towards Quinn. "I hold your hand all the time."

"In private! Private! Why can't we be like Rachel and Brittany? Everyone knows about us anyway."

Santana sighs heavily and sits down in the sand. "Come here, Q."

Santana motions for Quinn to sit between her legs and she does. Quinn leans her back against Santana's chest and Santana wraps her arms around her and holds her close.

It's all deliciously cliché and for once Santana doesn't let it bother her. "I'm sorry if you think I don't care about you because I do. More than anyone. But I'm not the kind of girl for public displays of affection…I'm just not. But I'll try harder, okay? That's all I can really offer."

Quinn sniffles a little and Santana pulls her impossibly closer. "Okay, Santana." A moment passes and she adds, "And I care a lot about you, too."

They both smile and get up to catch up with Rachel and Brittany.

Brittany's building a sand castle and Rachel is dutifully telling her the right dimensions for a proper sand castle.

Half way there, Santana takes Quinn's hand and laces their fingers.