This is written for the following prompt for aca-bitches as part of the FYQS Gift Exchange on Tumblr. I had hoped it would be a one-shot, but it's turned into a fic. Regardless, hope you all enjoy.

Prompt #1: Quinntana are getting married. A fic about the planning and build up to the wedding including bridezilla Quinn and in-it-just-for-the-cake-tastings Santana. And maybe the actual wedding/reception with all the Gleeks in attendance~ do want: hilarious nonsense fights between quinntana and also cute fluffy moments. don't want: mentions of brittana/comparisons to brittana... anything to do with brittana (or any faberry).

*0*0*

May the Best Bride Win

*0*0*

Chapter One: The Battle Lines are Drawn

*0*0*

In theory, getting married was a brilliant idea. Fuck, there were so many good reasons, Santana didn't even know where to begin. Not only was she going to be marrying the love of her life, taking her name, and spending her life with her, but she also had a bachelorette party to look forward to, getting married sex, planning the wedding sex, wedding day sex, just married sex, honeymoon sex, newlywed sex, wedding anniversary sex, and so many other fantastic occasions she hadn't even considered yet.

So, in theory, it was a win-win situation, but as she arrived home to find her house filled with their friends and talk of organising dates, picking dresses, tasting cakes, listening to bands, she realised she was wrong.

Getting married meant a wedding, and a wedding meant her perfectionist fiancée was now on her high horse and leading the wedding day charge.

She had made a terrible mistake. This was not what she had envisioned when proposing to Quinn, and now she was in it for the ride.

*0*0*

"I'm thinking a spring wedding," Quinn mused, having just come to join Santana in bed.

She had sought refuge in there after a ridiculous day at work, and the sound of Kurt and Rachel arguing over floral patterns for fuck knows what was giving her a severe headache. From the sounds of it, everyone had left, and that's why her fiancée was crawling her way up the bed to her. Santana couldn't complain about the latter part of that.

"What do you think?" Quinn asked, coming to a stop, straddling her fiancée's lap. Santana was sitting up against the pillows, her book now abandoned on the bed next to her, as she ran her fingers over Quinn's bare thighs. The skirt she had been wearing earlier seemed to have vanished, and instead she was now in a sleep shirt and underwear, looking gorgeous.

"Spring sounds good, if that's what you want," she replied, her eyes admiring all the skin before her. It was captivating.

"I want to know what you want. This is your wedding as well," Quinn said, her hands coming to land on top of Santana's. It was clear her fiancée was just agreeing with her for the sake of agreeing, and that was not what Quinn had in mind.

"I know, but I'm not too fussed about the details. As long as you're walking down the aisle towards me on the day, I don't mind." Santana figured that was the right tactic to take. It wasn't like she wasn't excited for the wedding, she just didn't want to plan it, especially when Kurt and Rachel were involved.

"Mmm, nope, you're not getting off that easy," Quinn mused, cocking an eyebrow in amusement.

"Dammit," Santana cursed, sighing in defeat.

"Did you really think I'd let you off?" she asked, chuckling at the pout on Santana's lips.

"It was worth a shot." Santana shrugged and ran her hands up to her fiancée's hips, hoping that it would ease some of the defeat. It did.

"Yes, I can't fault you for trying," Quinn said. Leaning forward, she kissed her gently, her hand leaning on Santana's shoulder, before pulling back with a small peck. "So a spring wedding?"

"This spring?" That was kinda quick, in Santana's opinion.

"Uh huh," Quinn replied, running her nose along Santana's neck, placing soft kisses there. It was a distraction technique, and a very good one at that, but Santana's brain was having none of it. Her libido could take a backseat, because she knew for sure she wouldn't be getting any if they pushed to have the wedding too soon as Quinn would be exhausted, she would be exhausted, and it would be carnage.

"That's only six months away," she pointed out, hoping to maybe push some sense into Quinn.

"And?" Apparently it wasn't working.

"Isn't that too soon?"

"Did you have a suitable time period in mind before we could officially tie the knot?" Quinn asked, pulling back completely, cocking one eyebrow, the smile falling from her face.

Oh good, Santana had managed to piss her off in the process of this conversation. Just brilliant. She should have known better than to suggest it was too soon. That practically implied that Santana wasn't ready, or hell, that she didn't want to get married yet.

"Well, no, but I mean how are we going to get everything done in time?" she backtracked, giving a soft, albeit nervous, smile.

"So you want to push it back a bit?"

"Maybe it would be better, less stress," she tried again, shrugging her shoulders as if to say 'you know best, I don't know anything'. Quinn took a second to think it over and then sighed with a nod.

"Late spring, early summer then," she compromised.

"What are you giving me, like three extra weeks or something?" Santana blurted out, not thinking. She was hoping for longer than that, like maybe they could wait a year, but apparently, that was not going to be the case. How the piss she was going to afford this, she had no clue.

"Two months," Quinn said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ugh, fine, I'll take it."

"Good." Quinn grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and Santana rolled her eyes, unable to resist her fiancée's pretty smile, but peeved at only getting an extra two months. "Which means we will be getting married between April and June," Quinn added, nodding again to reaffirm the point.

"So May?" Santana asked, figuring that was actually what Quinn meant.

"If you wish to pick an exact month, then yes, but we might need to be flexible-"

"I love it when we're flexible," Santana interrupted, reaching out to claim her bride-to-be.

"-on the date given how busy venues might be!" Quinn finished, chuckling and squirming as Santana's hands continued up her thighs, over her hips and tried to continue up her shirt. "Will you behave, we're having a serious conversation!"

"How can we have a serious conversation when you're sitting on my lap like that and talking about being flexible? I can't help it. Look at you," Santana moaned, moving forward to kiss Quinn's neck.

"Ugh, this was not where this conversation was meant to be going," Quinn whimpered, dropping her head back to give Santana more access.

It was at that moment, a new plan was formulated. If Santana could pull it off, distract Quinn with sex when serious wedding stuff comes up, then she'd be set to never have to make decisions about it again.

Genius.

*0*0*

Santana's plan failed miserably when Quinn started to arrange get-togethers with their friends, who would also be involved in planning the wedding. There was just no way she had the sexual prowess to pull off convincing Quinn into having a quickie when there were dates to be discussed and dresses to be looked at.

Shame.

Before an actual date could be arranged however, a venue had to be picked, and Quinn seemed intent of getting that set up first. She was willing to move the date around if she could find the ideal location, and because nothing had been booked yet, she had all the flexibility in the world to do so.

Smirking at the memories that thought brought up, Santana tried to hide it behind her napkin. They were currently having lunch with Quinn's parents at some ridiculous country club place, which was on Quinn's 'maybe' list for venue. Santana didn't really think the place was going to be suitable, because Christ, she was surprised they hadn't handed her an apron and a tray the second she walked in the door. It was like WASP central.

She'd need to talk to Quinn about alternate locations. Her family would probably be given washcloths and be sent to wash dishes if they turned up here. No way was that the correct way to gel their families, using the Fabray's home turf. Santana would need to find a place where it would be equally accepting. Convincing Quinn of such might be hard, especially if she had to avoid pointing out the fact some of the family was racist, but Santana was sure she could do it.

Quinn's Uncle George, and her father at that, was notoriously sexist, racist and a right bastard. If Santana's father didn't knock his front teeth out before the entrees, it would be a miracle. That was the goal they needed to strive for, no family fights. She'd definitely need her friends help for that on the day.

Filing that piece of information away for later, Santana tuned back into the conversation and nodded and smiled where appropriate. Quinn was talking details with her mother, while Russell was examining something on his tablet.

"That sounds lovely. Doesn't that sound lovely, Russell?" Judy asked, spinning to look at her husband. He stopped what he was doing and nodded.

"Sounds lovely." Total crap, because there was no way he was listening, but Quinn and Judy smiled like God himself had given praise. "While we're talking about the wedding, there is something I'd like to say," he went on to add.

Quinn looked almost worried about the thought of him speaking, and reached over to grab Santana's hand. Rather than worry herself, Santana sat bemusedly and waited. Over the years she'd acclimatised to the Fabray's, she'd learnt that they never spoke out of turn in a public place. If he had said this while they were back at their house, then Santana would have been worried. But here, there were too many witnesses.

"I would like to extend the offer to pay our share of the wedding," Russell said, nodding proudly just at the thought. "As father of one of the bride's it's my duty."

"Oh yes, we must," Judy chimed in after, then turning to her daughter to grin in delight. Ugh.

Santana knew that Mr. & Mrs. Fabray actually couldn't stand the idea of their precious Quinnie marrying a woman, and a Hispanic at that, but Mr. Fabray was trying to get elected Governor or something, Santana really needed to listen more often, and his support of his gay daughter would score him points in the polls.

Whatever, she was not going to turn down his money, especially not when she had finally seen the binder Quinn had prepared with Kurt to manage the costs of the wedding. She knew she was marrying someone with expensive taste, but fucking hell, it was one day.

They could make a down payment on a new house or something like that with the money Quinn had in mind. But, what she wanted, Santana would strive to give her, even if it meant she'd be paying it off for years to come. Whatever, their apartment wasn't horrible. Who needed a house anyway?

Russell's money would mean that maybe Santana would still have a significant chuck left if they ever did decide to move out of their place and find somewhere better, so she had to be at least a little thankful for that.

However, she also caught the glint in his eye, and the specific words he'd used. He clearly expected her father to pay for his share as well, and Santana didn't need to think twice to know that wasn't going to happen. It wasn't that her family wouldn't want to, it was that she had a large family, and while they were better off than most, college education went above weddings in the family fund priorities.

"Thank you!" Quinn gushed, beaming happily, and Santana smiled too, just at the look of happiness on her face.

It would have been rude not to say thank you, and hell, he really was doing her a favour, so Santana thanked them both for their assistance, and shook Russell's hand. He had a cocky little smirk, almost as if he knew her family wouldn't pay the other half, but given they were in public, the man wouldn't say a word.

Thank God for that.

Santana wasn't sure if Quinn would still marry her if she decked her father. She certainly knew she wouldn't be getting his money for the wedding even if Quinn did agree after such an action. So with that in mind, Santana sat back and allowed Quinn and Judy to go on over the details without her input, and later on when they were being given a tour of the place, she smiled and acted the dotting bride to be with Quinn and pretended all was right.

Once back at their apartment that night, after a long drive home and a quiet dinner, did Santana finally manage to shrug off the annoyance at her soon to be father-in-law, and let the day seep away from her. Quinn, however, did not get the memo, and it was with a quiet sigh, Santana was broached with the topic of the wedding again.

"So I'm thinking about calling Martin at the Country Club and having him look at available dates. He should have something for us, as I know he'll love the attention this will get his venue. What do you think?" Quinn wondered.

"The Country Club, really? You've settled on that?" Santana asked, frowning. It was definitely not her ideal location.

"Why wouldn't I? It was perfect. Didn't you like the tour?" What was the polite way of saying 'fuck no' without any repercussions?

"It was okay, if you like that sort of thing," she said instead, hoping that was enough to put Quinn off.

"That sort of thing?"

"I just thought it was a bit pretentious, stuffy and you know, overrated." Santana shrugged one shoulder, hoping to make her last sentence sound less harsh, but Quinn pursed her lips and she knew it wasn't effective.

"You didn't like it," Quinn stated, sitting up on the couch.

"For the money it'll cost to book, I just think we can find somewhere more suitable." Yeah, Russell was happy to pay for half, but she still had to pay the other half, and Christ, she could buy a brand new car with her share of booking the venue.

"What wasn't suitable about it?" Quinn asked, now curious. From the sound of her voice, Santana knew she hadn't dug her heels in about it yet, and there was still some wiggle room. This was where she needed to plead her case.

"You really need to ask?" Santana said, getting up off the couch and heading into the kitchen to wash the dishes. She just needed to be doing something to get through this conversation, keeping her hands busy and staying distracted.

"Yes. I honestly don't get what the problem is," she heard Quinn call through.

"Quinn, it's like we step back one hundred years in time when we go in there. Did you even see any white servers?" That was being bold with her words, and Santana glanced over her shoulder to see the shocked look on Quinn's face.

"What?"

"Look, I get that it fits your family's style, but I know mine will not feel comfortable there. And that's the last thing we want on the day, right?" Turning on the tap, she let the water run until it was hot before putting it in the basin.

"Are you saying my family is racist?" Quinn asked, now in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms crossed and an incredulous look on her features.

"Quinn, your aunt and uncle ushered me into the kitchen the first time you brought me home to meet your family. They had me cooking with your housekeeper, Juliana. I was even tipped two dollars at the end of the night for all my hard work, despite you coming to fetch me, several times."

"They apologised for that," Quinn said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Only because you made them," Santana pointed out, rolling her eyes. "Surely you can see my point. The country club is great, it's amazing, if you're marrying a blue-blooded, Caucasian male. Given you're marrying a middle-class, Hispanic female, I'd say it's not the right way to go."

"Stop that, don't put yourself down like that." Shaking her head, Quinn crossed the kitchen and stood next to Santana.

"I'm only doing what they'll be doing if we have it there. Even the staff look at me like I'm not meant to be there." She was laying it on a bit thick, but all of it was technically true. The staff did look at her like she was a traitor for falling in line with the Fabrays. She felt like one standing next to Russell.

"Okay, okay, we'll find somewhere else," Quinn conceded, biting her lip. She'd never really had this conversation with Santana before. Race was something that never entered the equation, but it clearly was something they should have spoken about previously.

"Yeah?" Santana asked, somewhat hopefully.

"Yes." Kissing Santana softly in apology, Quinn wrapped her arms around her neck and held her close. "I'm sorry that they make you feel that way. We'll find somewhere we both like. I promise."

"Thank you." Kissing her back quickly, Santana nuzzled her face into Quinn's neck and inhaled. Her scent was soothing, and actually, that whole conversation was a lot less stressful than Santana thought it would be.

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to work together on this.

*0*0*

Finding and picking a venue after that was actually surprisingly easy. They spent a few weekends looking around, searching online for places further from home, and soon found the ideal place. It was a hotel they could book privately for the weekend, and it was suitable for everything they needed. They even took some time away for a long weekend and stayed there, getting the feel of the place. It was exactly what they were after, and managed to fit both of their family styles.

The chef on site was willing to create a menu for them and allow them to taste it in advance, or allow them to hire caterers, which was music to Santana's ears as she desperately wanted to try a handful of different menus to find the best one. Sex and food, they were the pros of planning a wedding.

Those discussions were still in the planning stages though, and Quinn had started making a list of all the jobs that needed to be done. A date had officially been set, what with the venue being booked, and it was decided that on Saturday May 24th, the two of them would tie the knot. Happy that it wasn't ridiculously close, they had about seven months left to plan everything else, Santana was content to let the rest of the wedding plans come on gradually.

Apparently Quinn had other ideas, though.

Another day, another night surrounded by far too many people crowding up her living room, Santana sat unamused. Quinn seemed to have arranged specific time slots for people to arrive where only the wedding could be discussed, and Santana had made the mistake of coming home earlier than usual and therefore getting stuck in one.

Rachel, who Santana had kinda demanded that she be her Maid of Honour, was currently going over the finer points of who was going to be with whom on the day. She really wasn't paying much attention to it at all, instead, trying to watch TV in the background, while her fiancée was thankfully oblivious.

"No, no, we need to change that," she heard Quinn murmur, moving post it notes around on the placard Rachel had procured from somewhere. Santana didn't want to know.

"Hmm, that might work," Rachel replied, still fussing with the post it notes.

"Yeah, that's good," Quinn agreed, and it was with a happy squeal that Rachel stood up, placard in hand, to present to the room.

Quinn, now no longer focused on that task, wandered over to the couch Santana was lounging on and cuddled in next to her, sneakily taking the TV remote in hand and turning it off as she did so.

"What, wait- I was-" Santana made to protest, but given the look on her fiancée's face, she knew it was probably better she just kept quiet.

"Smart move," Quinn teased, kissing her cheek before Rachel started clapping exceedingly loudly.

"Everyone, may I have your attention!" she called, drawing the attention of Tina, Brittany, and Sam, who had all been hiding in the kitchen. Well, maybe they weren't hiding, but that's what Santana thought they were doing.

The three of them shuffled in and sought out seats while Rachel patiently stood waiting. Santana just knew that if Kurt had been there, he would be standing up there, too, dictating folk about and driving her insane, much like Rachel was. Thank fuck he couldn't make it tonight.

"Great, now that I have everyone's attention, I would like to draw your eyes to the wedding board, if I may," Rachel began, hoisting the placard, or wedding board as it was apparently called, up onto the mantel piece.

"Here are the wedding parties divided up, and this is finalised. Quinn and I have taken things into consideration and it has been decided that these are the most suitable mixes for both brides. Plus, we cannot have couples together as that would throw the dynamics off. Now please take a moment to memorise who you are with." Rolling her eyes at Rachel's verbose speech, Santana took a moment to see who she was going to be with on the day of her wedding.

Quinn's Wedding Party: Brittany (MoH), Mercedes, Kurt, Mike, Sam

Santana's Wedding Party: Rachel (MoH), Tina, Dave, Sebastian, Blaine

Santana was pretty happy with her Wedding Party. Rachel was must, Tina would be good at keeping the nerves calm, and Dave was her best bro so he had to be there. Sebastian…Sebastian was good if he played nice, and he'd be ideal at schmoozing whoever she needed him to, so he was a plus. But then Blaine…

"Why did I get stuck with Warbler?" Santana spat, scrunching her nose in disgust.

It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was just that he was ugh. The boy needed to let loose, relax a bit, maybe get laid once in a while and chill the fuck out. Maybe grow a personality, too.

"Santana, we've gone over this already. We're not having couples on the same team."

"They're not teams, Rachel. It's a wedding, not a sports game," Quinn amended, raising her eyebrows in warning to the room. She clearly didn't want that to stick.

"Okay, you're right. Sorry, Quinn. But yes, no couples in the same wedding party."

"So why can't I have Kurt?" Santana asked, thankful Porcelain wasn't there to hear her words. He'd probably claim that she liked him or something as equally horrifying.

"Because he's planning most of my events," Quinn answered, giving Santana's hand a squeeze.

"So?" She had said most of, not all, what was the problem? He could still plan her events from Santana's team.

"So you can't have him."

"This is bullshit," Santana murmured, shaking her head. Quinn just rolled her eyes at her fiancée's pouting and leant in to whisper in her ear.

"You're being ridiculous. Blaine is the least of your worries for the wedding, so stop with the pouting."

"Why should I? I have every right to be upset. You basically thieved Kurt away from me."

"Oh please, if you had Rachel and Kurt in your wedding party, you'd murder them both within minutes of each other. I did you a favour."

Okay, Quinn had a point, but Santana was too stubborn to let her know that. So, instead of answering, she rolled her eyes and continued to sulk on the couch. Quinn knew she'd won that little round, especially when Santana had no comeback, and sat with a happy smirk on her face, much to her fiancée's annoyance.

"Why isn't Puck in any of the teams?" Sam piped up, seconds later.

"Wedding parties!" Quinn amended, the smirk falling from her face, and one forming on Santana's.

"Right, wedding parties, why isn't he in one?" Sam asked again, looking over the wedding placard.

"Because I am not having the guy who knocked up my fiancée anywhere near her or me on our wedding day," Santana answered, crossing her arms again at the thought. Knowing Puck, he'd suggest a threesome or offer sperm if they ever needed it, and frankly, Santana did not want to have to go bury a body on the day she was getting married. That would totally ruin her dress.

"Yes, like Santana said, history meant it would be unwise for him to take part," Rachel replied, making it sound a lot nicer than Santana's phrasing.

"What about your family? Don't you want them in the wedding parties?" Tina asked, also having a good look at the placard.

Jesus, Santana just knew that thing was going to take up a permanent residence on their mantelpiece and there was nothing she could do about it. Burning it might be too extreme. She'd have to wait and see if that was necessary. As of right now, it was not.

"I have too many brothers and sisters to pick from. It would be a war," she answered, turning to look at her as she did so, and then to Quinn to see how she was going to reply.

"Frannie and I don't see eye to eye on things and I don't think she'd be the best support to have on the day," Quinn then added, shrugging one shoulder, and hoping everyone would buy that reason. Of course, Santana decided to elaborate. It seemed Quinn wasn't going to be as forthcoming about her big sister as Santana thought she needed to be.

"What Quinn means by that is Frannie thinks I'm the biggest mistake her little sister's ever made, and if Quinn even had one moment of doubt, Frannie would have her in the boot of a car and be whisking her away to safety."

It was ridiculous how true that statement was.

"Well, that's awkward," Sam mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact, much like everyone else in the room was. "We can help, on the day," he added. "We can make sure she doesn't steal your bride away. As a member of Quinn's team, that can be my job!" He grinned at Santana, and she nodded along happily, actually pleased someone was going to be keeping an eye on that.

"Wedding parties!" Quinn threw in, pointing round at everyone to get the message. "They're not teams."

She was so naïve if she thought they were going to listen.

"Actually, Sam has raised a valid point here," Rachel began, ignoring Quinn's comment. "Each wedding party has been assigned jobs to do so we can speed the planning process along. I can recite the lists to everyone now, or-"

"As my Maid of Honour, it's your responsibility to deal with all that, and delegate the shit you don't want to do, okay? I don't want to do anything," Santana interrupted, waving her hand to move along.

She was not going to sit through what would be ten minutes of Rachel yammering on about who would be best suited for what job, when would be the perfect time to do it, and whatever crazy thoughts she had in mind when all members of their teams weren't there.

"Okay then, I'll just dish out jobs as I see fit, and I'll get Brittany to do the same." Tearing a page out of her notepad, with what Santana could only assume was Quinn's Team's duties, Rachel leant over to hand it to Brittany, who was looking at her lost.

"Oh, no thank you. I don't want to," she said, shaking her head, and looking at Quinn for help.

"Kurt has agreed to take over the planning duties for me," she explained, taking the paper from Rachel and placing it on the coffee table. "Brittany's going to just be planning the bachelorette party."

"Damn right I am! Booze and strippers galore on your last night of freedom, Q!"

"Wait, you're getting strippers?" Santana asked, ignoring Brittany fist pumping the air and high-five with Sam.

"I don't know, Brittany's planning it." Quinn shrugged, and smiled at the slightly horrified look on her fiancée's face.

"Yes, she's getting strippers, she has to get strippers," Brittany called, having picked up on their conversation, and beamed at Quinn brightly.

"Brittany, one does not have to get strippers at a bachelorette party," Rachel interjected, shaking her head with a worried look on her face. "That's very demeaning to these women, to pay them to take their clothes off, and actually, I think it would be best if we agreed here and now-"

"I'm not getting strippers," Santana suddenly said, slumping backward on the couch, tuning out the rest of Rachel's little speech.

"Why do you think I was so happy that you chose Rachel to be your maid of honour?" Quinn asked, hiding her giggle behind her hand.

"I've made a terrible mistake," Santana deadpanned, to the amusement of her fiancée.

So her bachelorette was going to be some fancy and proper occasion, which was what she thought Quinn's would be, while she had hoped hers would be booze and strippers. How the hell had that worked out? Why had she picked Rachel of all people?

Was it too late to tell her that she wasn't allowed to plan the bachelorette party, or was that rude?

Fuck it, she was Santana Lopez, being rude was in her blood.

"Don't even think about it," Quinn said, clasping Santana's hand just as she opened her mouth to speak. "Let her plan it, and if it's not what you want, I'll let Brittany plan a surprise one for you."

"You'd do that for me?" Santana asked, surprised.

"You deserve to have a little fun during this too." Smirking happily, Santana leant over and kissed Quinn softly, very pleased with that turn of events. She had the best fiancée ever.

Content with how that might work out, Santana sunk back into the couch with a smile on her face and snuggled closer into Quinn's side. This wedding meeting wasn't actually that bad, and if they were all like this then she'd have no problem. Surely they couldn't be that bad, right?

*0*0*

The wedding planning good fortune continued for Santana, and for that she could not be more thankful. Granted, it had only been a few days since they went over everything, but still. So far so good.

"Santana?" Quinn called from the kitchen, rustling through sheets of God only knows what in her wedding binder. Santana didn't want to know.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and they were taking this weekend off from officially planning wedding things. What that actually meant was they weren't allowed to finalise anything, but apparently could talk about it until wanting to jump off the rood. Santana was already reaching that stage.

"Yeah?" she called back, slouching on the couch, the TV down low as she messed about on her laptop. She was attempting to plan the honeymoon without Quinn knowing, hoping to secure some of the best deals, but with her in the apartment it was quite tricky.

"Is your wedding party taking care of the photographer?" Quinn asked, making Santana pause for thought. Honestly, she had no clue, but thanks to Rachel's placard, it was hard for her not to know. Said placard still hung above their fireplace, and it was a heinous reminder of everything that needed to be done before May.

"Eh…no," Santana replied, seeing that it wasn't on her team's list.

"Okay, good. How about the cars?"

"Eh…nope." She was actually relieved that wasn't on her list as she had no idea what kind of transport Quinn would want to and from the venue.

While the reception was being held at the hotel they had booked, the wedding itself was being held in an old church, which had no affiliation with any faith. Transport was being put on for their guests to attend both, but that would be a coach or something, not like the fancy cars for the brides themselves. And given how meticulously Quinn had planned this, Santana knew she could only mess up if that had been her job.

"Right, and what about the band?" Quinn asked, the frantic sound of scribbling coming from the kitchen.

"No. Why? Is my team meant to be taking care of these things?" If Quinn was thinking about fobbing them off to her group of misfits, she had another thing coming.

"Wedding party, not team, thank you very much, and no. They're on my list, but I want to make sure Rachel distributed them correctly before handing the list off to Kurt."

Happy to know they both weren't going to be trying to complete the same tasks, Santana went back to looking for hotels in Paris and flights. She wanted Quinn to have a honeymoon to remember. However, in order to do so, it was clear she was going to have to do this while the woman was not present, because the sound of Quinn heading her way was going to ruin the surprise.

"We need to start getting together a guest list. I'm thinking it'll have maybe two hundred or so people on it," Quinn said, coming into the living room, abandoning her binder in the kitchen and dropping onto the couch next to Santana. If her words hadn't blown her mind away, Santana would have been faster at changing internet tabs. Thankfully, Quinn didn't catch sight of what her fiancée was up to.

"Two hundred?! Quinn, I hardly know twelve people, what the hell are you thinking inviting two hundred?" That number was ridiculous, and Quinn pursed her lips for a moment and considered telling Santana it was on the low side. She actually was thinking there would be a lot more than that there.

"Don't talk rubbish. Your family is going to take a considerable chuck of that number, and your friends, our friends from college and work, and then you have my family, and the people my father wants to invite."

"Why is your father getting his own invite list?" Santana asked, practically protesting.

"He's the governor." Pft, as if that made any difference. And with the frown on Santana's face, Quinn knew this was news to her.

"He is? I thought he was just thinking about being the governor," Santana said, glancing to Quinn in the hope she wasn't going to be mad with her for not knowing.

"He was elected a few weeks ago, sweetie. Thank you for paying such close attention to our family matters, though," Quinn muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh come on, I'm sorry, but your father hates me, why should I take any notice in what he's doing?" Santana said, defending herself.

"Because he's paying half of the wedding and for that he gets his own guest list. Now, I want a list of everyone you wish to invite, and I'll check it with mine, and then we'll go over who is on it and if need be start crossing people off. Okay?"

"Okay." What was the point of arguing? This was her dream wedding. Santana was happy to go along with it if it meant marrying the girl in the end.

"I love you," Quinn whispered, moving closer to kiss Santana's cheek. "And thank you for helping me with this."

"I love you too." She shrugged one shoulder in response to Quinn's second sentence and gave her a soft smile in reply. She was happy, or rather she would do it regardless, for this woman. No thanks was needed.

Taking another look at the placard above the fireplace, Santana eyed the lists and briefly considered her group of misfits completing each task successfully and wondered what the really important ones were to Quinn. Feeling it safer to find out now, rather than later, she decided to ask.

"So is there anything on the list that my team could fuck up? I don't want to ruin the wedding cause of their stupidity."

"How many times do I need to say this? Wedding party. They're not teams," Quinn moaned, taking a deep breath before she lost it. She was not going to have that sticking, she just couldn't.

Teams suggested sports, and her wedding was not a game or a sporting event. They were getting married, not playing baseball. Wedding party sounded so much better than teams.

"They're teams. Who are you kidding? And seriously? Is there anything?" Santana asked, brushing off Quinn's obsession with correcting the word team.

"I'm not telling you, especially not with that attitude," Quinn replied, sulking. As far as she was concerned, Santana was doing this on purpose. She knew Quinn didn't like the name, and yet she said it anyway. What a great wife she was going to make, ignoring her wishes and winding her up.

"Are you kidding me?" Santana asked, looking highly amused and a little shocked as Quinn crossed her arms and turned away from her.

"Nope."

"You're being ridiculous, and just for that, my team is going to kick your team's ass!" she cried, throwing down the gauntlet.

"Kick…excuse me, kick my team's ass?!" Quinn balked, her mouth falling open, spinning back to look at her. "If I didn't love you, I would kick your ass for constantly ignoring me when I say it's not a team!"

"Oh please, you're in denial here, Quinnie. They are teams, and mine is going to wipe the floor with yours," Santana said boldly, using a nickname Quinn hated to get more of a rise out of her.

"Well, we'll just see about that." Quinn knew what she was doing and she was not going to rise to the bait. No way.

"Yes we will. We'll just wait and see whose team shall win, won't we?"

"They're not teams! And yes, we will! Mine will!" Quinn called, standing up and heading back into the kitchen, hoping to leave the bickering there. It never worked, not with Santana.

"Okay, you have yourself a bet here, dear. I bet you that my team will screw up less than yours!" Santana cried after her, rising from the couch herself and grinning wickedly. She was so proud of herself. She loved the wild look in Quinn's eyes as she tried to bite back her annoyance and frustration with her. It was terribly attractive.

"Done, but my wedding party will definitely make less mistakes than yours!"

"Oh please, with your group of delinquents, you don't stand a chance. I have Rachel."

"I have Kurt!" Quinn yelled back, happy with her selection. He was going to be such a great helper.

"I have Sebastian!" Santana cried, and Quinn bit her lip in annoyance. Sebastian was a good choice. He had the suave style to him which meant he could schmooze anyone into giving him what he wanted, so he would probably be awesome.

Though, why they were hoping the other failed was beyond them, especially since if they did fail or mess up, it directly affected their wedding. Apparently, this thought didn't factor into the equation right now.

"I have Mercedes!" Quinn finally yelled, hearing Santana begin to head back to their bedroom as if she'd just won this little argument. Please, if she thought she'd won with Sebastian she had another thing coming.

"Oh, what's she going to do? Hook you up with Tater Tots for the reception? Please. I have Warbler!" Santana called back, not even looking over her shoulder as she did so. Such a cocky bitch.

"Blaine? What's he going to do? Gel your hair back?"

"He has connections!" That had Santana stopping in the doorway, finally turning to look at Quinn so she could defend her choice.

"You don't even like him!"

"If it means kicking your ass, I like him!" God, had Santana actually said that aloud? Was it too late to take it back? Those words should never have been uttered.

"Oh, I'll let him know then, shall I?" Quinn smirked, looking at her fiancée's face pale at the thought.

"Don't you dare, or the wedding is off!" Trying to seek refuge in the bedroom, Santana dove on in, and hoped to leave it there. Of course, Quinn was following, desperate to have the last word. Though, really, with the way they were going, no words would be said soon, only whimpers and moans. This was some of the best foreplay they'd ever had.

"Is that a deal?" Quinn called back, scampering into the bedroom after her.

"Damn right it is!" The wicked gleam in her eye and the cocky little smirk on her lips had Santana smirking back, and good lord, she loved this woman.

If this was what their marriage was going to be like, it was going to be fucking glorious.

*0*0*