Title: Charcoal Turkey

Pairing: Quinn/Santana – Quinntana

Summary: Part of Seasons Greeting saga: Quinn and Santana decide not to go home for Thanksgiving, so they can have their own. Too bad they didn't realize how hard it would be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of their characters, just the writing.

x.x.x.x.x

For college students, the thought of coming home for Thanksgiving should be a joyous time. They get to see their families again, have their parents' delicious home cooked meals, and their even more delicious desserts. But all Santana and Quinn cared about was being with each other for Thanksgiving since they're not together any part of the year, except for Spring Break and they try to get to one another for their birthdays, but it's difficult to manage when you have a full course load and the birthday falls on a weekday or an exam day.

However, they manage and their relationship still remained strong after a year. With Santana studying in New York and majoring in business management, while Quinn studies in Ohio to do journalism, it's no wonder they even fit. With different interests and different backgrounds, they just work. But if you think about it, they're not so far off after all.

For Thanksgiving, Quinn's parents along with her sister and her husband would come to the table and wait for someone to serve all the side dishes and giant turkey that was unnecessary for that amount of people. Her mother never lifted a finger on this specific holiday and that's how she liked it as she sipped down her third glass of wine before they even dug in.

For Santana, this was the only major day, aside from Christmas that she ever saw her parents together in the same room. Her mom would cook all day and that would be the last time Santana would ever see her cook. She would have someone else do it, but she didn't feel right having someone else cook on such an important holiday. Santana liked to think that was the only sentimental thing her mother has ever said, but she never really pressed for anything else.

This time, it was about the two of them. They didn't want to go home for obvious reasons. They wanted to make their own traditions, starting with Santana flying into Ohio and taking a taxi to Quinn's apartment to have an amazing dinner with the girl she loves. Nobody else needed to be there and she liked it that way.

Quinn had the Macy's Day Parade playing on the television in the background as she prepped the small turkey to be placed in the oven. She really didn't know what she was doing, but she decided to wing it. Santana knew this and when she told her she was making a turkey, Santana laughed at the idea because, let's face it when Quinn Fabray entered the kitchen it's no telling who and what will get messy and burnt—plus Santana told her to look up the directions on how to do it because she sure as hell didn't know either, but Quinn said she was going to just wing it. Santana assumed she was going to starve.

At any rate, Santana got an early flight and wanted to surprise Quinn by getting there earlier than she intended, so she could help her because at least if the turkey wasn't salvaged, the mash potatoes, green bean casserole, and yams would be and those are Santana's favorites—oh and the little crescent rolls, you can't forget those flaky bits of goodness.

Quinn placed the turkey in the oven and stared at it for a moment, not sure how long she should put it in for, so she just decided an hour and half would be good at 450 degrees as she goes to sit down on the couch to watch the rest of the parade. After all, Santana won't be here for a little while and she needed to rest. She couldn't sleep last night because all the excitement she had in her for this day—mainly because she got to see the love of her life after what's been months.

An hour in and there was a knock at the door, Quinn checked the time—it was a little after ten, who would be here at this hour? Quinn got off the couch and walked over to the door to see Santana standing there with her bag in tow. Quinn's mouth gapped open as she hopped into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. Santana laughed at the reaction, holding her just under her butt to keep her from falling, before walking in. She tossed her bag to the side and shut the door, and Quinn pulled back and kissed her hard on the lips, like it's been months—and it has.

"God I missed you," Quinn whispered into her lips as Santana returned the kisses being given.

She smiled. "I missed you too. I got here early to help," she told her and suddenly a small pout appeared on her lips as she let herself down.

"You didn't think I could do it by myself?" Quinn asked her curiously as Santana wrapped her arms around her waist, kissing the top of her forehead. To be honest, that's exactly what she thought, but what kind of person would she be if she told her girlfriend that?

"No, I just think that because this is our first Thanksgiving together and we're trying to make a tradition here, I think we should both be here to cook, y'know?" Santana said, which was partly true as well. She wanted to be as helpful to Quinn as possible, even though she knew she wanted to try and be domesticated for the Latina.

Quinn however took this reply as a good one and nodded. She thought Santana was right about wanting to be a part of this tradition and they could both learn how to do this for future reference, right?

Santana suddenly began to smell something foul and began looking around the room, pulling Quinn to the side to look towards the kitchen where smoke was beginning to seep out of the sealed oven door.

Her eyes widened—she knew this was going to happen. "Babe!" She yelled, lifting the windows opened as Quinn turned around and noticed Santana opening the oven door and smoke began flying out of it instantly engulfing the Latina to where it was almost impossible to see her.

Quinn just hoped the fire alarm wouldn't go off and after waiting for a couple of minutes, and it didn't she sighed contently. As if by a stroke of bad luck, the piercing sound began ringing through the entire apartment. Beeeep. .Beeeep.

Santana covered her ears as Quinn grabbed a washcloth and a chair. She brought it to the alarm and stood up, turning it off with no problem before fanning the smoke away from it to prevent it from going off yet again.

Santana waved her hand in front of her face, letting a couple coughs out, before dipping her head into the oven and with oven mitts in tow; she takes the burnt turkey out and examines it for a moment. By this time, Quinn returned the chair back to its spot and walked into the kitchen next to Santana.

"Is it going to make it?" Quinn folded her arms, eyeing the black turkey before her. Santana turned her head dramatically and blinked a few times. She placed her hand on Quinn's shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, but—there was nothing we could do. It seems to have been—," she stops for dramatic effect. "burnt to a crisp," she finishes as Quinn throws her head back, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"San! What are we going to do? I'm so stupid. I should've listened to you about getting those directions on how to make a turkey," Quinn beat herself up, but Santana grabbed her hand and brought her to her bag. She opened it and pulled out some pieces of papers.

"I didn't know if you were going to start the turkey before I got here, but I printed it out just in case. I have the directions on how to make the green bean casserole, the yams, and the mash potatoes are on the box as well as the rolls," Santana explained handing them to Quinn. "See you need me," she adds giving her a goofy grin. Quinn just nodded and kissed her lightly, before turning back into the kitchen.

Santana went into the pantry and pulled the box of Potato Buds out and placing them on the counter, with butter and milk then got out the cans of green beans and cream of mushroom soup with the fried onions.

"Start with the green bean casserole because if I remember correctly that cooks longer than the potatoes and I'll get the yams prepped up. We'll put them in the oven and then get started the potatoes and rolls afterwards," Santana instructed as Quinn leaned against the countertop.

"What about the turkey?" She asked in a little voice, poking it with her finger only to get some of the burnt blackness to stain her finger.

"We take a picture and put it on Facebook," Santana snaps a picture of the turkey with her phone and Quinn whines since she knows Santana will tag her in the picture and write some caption that says "Attempt number one on the Santana/Quinn Thanksgiving tradition—Quinn burns turkey". Knowing her girlfriend, she will not take credit for that failure.

"Now let's salvage the food we have left because I can tell you, the sides are my favorite anyway," she pecks the blonde's lips to let her know it's not a big deal and that they'll always have a chance to learn to prefect the turkey.

Quinn agrees though and gets to opening the cans, while reading over the directions. It seemed a lot easier than winging it that's for sure. As she poured all the ingredients into the bowl, she stops and notices Santana looking over her shoulder every once in a while. She could tell her eyes linger a little bit lower than they should be during this time, but how often do they get a chance to let their eyes leer at the other?

Quinn smirks after sprinkling some of the fried onions over the green beans and cream of mushroom blend, before walking over to the Latina and pulling her around, and planting a kiss on her lips, biting gently at her bottom lip. Santana grabs her waist as she feels Quinn push her against the oven only to have her yelp and pull away quickly.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Hot ass!—Burning ass," she screams, grabbing her butt in pain, trying her hardest to just stop it from feeling like it was on fire.

Quinn walks over to her frantic girlfriend and turns her around. "Babe you need to calm down and hold still," she says as she tries to unbutton her pants.

"What are you going to do? Examine my ass cheeks for me?" Santana yelled. She wasn't necessarily angry at her, but her ass just hurt like a bitch, so she needed to get her frustration out.

Quinn eyed her and crossed her arms. "I was planning on it. Besides I thought you liked it when I took your pants off and now you're telling me you don't want me to," Santana opens her mouth to counter back only to close it when she thought about it. She rose her eyebrow and nodded.

"No I do," she pouted. "But not to check my ass for burn marks," Quinn smirked, before pulling her fingers into her belt loops and pulling her into a kiss, snaking her hands behind her girlfriend.

"Okay, I'll check later," she whispers, biting at her bottom lip, before cupping her right butt cheek in her hand. Santana groaned—that was definitely where the pain was, but why the hell was she so aroused?

x.x.x.x.x

After prepping everything, they decided to wait a little while before actually cooking. Thinking that they'd still have turkey in the oven cooking slowly, Santana decided that waiting till it got a little later to eat would be better. So they sat on the couch, cuddling watching some football—Santana loved watching, while Quinn just watched it for her. While Santana rooted for Dallas getting a first down, Quinn needed her to explain what happened.

"Quinn, you dated football players in high school. How the hell do you not understand that they just got a first down?" Santana asked as she got more comfortable, while Quinn snuggled into her arm.

"I don't know. They didn't have that yellow line on the field and my job was to cheer for them, not care when they got first downs. Only touchdowns and field goals," she replied as Santana shook her head is a disapproving manner.

"Well you're lucky that you know the difference between a goal and a field goal and a touchdown, otherwise we'd have problems," Santana tells her and Quinn looks up with narrowed eyes.

"I'm lucky? San it's called common sense, especially because I dated so many football players," she laughs. "What was I thinking? They were nothing, but stupid meat heads, with big muscles and sweaty, smelly armpits," she shrugs as Santana nodded in agreement—she knows all too well. After all, she slept with all the football players she dated and she did compare her experience with Finn like it was "having sex with a sweaty out of breath sack of potatoes"—probably not a good thing to think about when they're having potatoes for dinner.

Quinn lifts Santana's arm and puts her nose into her armpit, causing Santana to widen her eyes in confusion and she wasn't going to lie it was a little uncomfortable, and awkward. "Did you seriously just smell my armpit?" Santana hoped that was all just her imagination playing tricks on her.

"Wanted to make sure you didn't have smelly armpits. Don't worry you're good. You're Secret is still intact," Quinn smiles goofily at her girlfriend as Santana just blinked a few times and shook her head in disbelief.

Santana huffs. "I can't believe you thought my pits would smell anyway. That's just mean and uncalled for," she says, taking her arm from over Quinn and folding them together.

"Aw babe don't be like that. I was just joking," Quinn says, sliding closer to her to try and pull her arms apart.

"No, no go away," Santana whines as Quinn laughs and tackles her, which later turns into a mini wrestling and tickling match, when they suddenly hear cheering from the television. Santana's eyes shoot to the television—Dallas scored a touchdown.

"NO! I missed it! Damnit!" Santana yells as she gets off the blonde, who still laid sprawled on couch. After a few minutes, Quinn sits up and watches Santana, who ends up looking over at her to narrow her eyes and point her finger at her. "No more distracting me missy," she adds, making Quinn giggle and hold her hands up in defeat, before rising to put the food in the oven—this time getting it right.

x.x.x.x

After the game—Dallas won, so it was a good day for Santana so far—well aside from her ass getting sizzled, but she wasn't complaining. Overall, this day was pretty perfect because she was with the person she loved.

They sat at the table with their side dishes and rolls, and they had to admit it smelt amazing. They even placed the turkey on the table to make it feel a little like Thanksgiving.

They placed their food on their plates and Santana watched Quinn for a moment. "What do we do now? Say grace or something?" Santana asked as Quinn looked back up. Being that Quinn was so religious back in her early high school days, which those days are long gone—she isn't pure anymore and she isn't all that interested in church anymore, so she just shrugged.

"What are you most thankful for?" Santana asked as she leaned back in the chair. Quinn's never been asked that at any other Thanksgiving dinner. They usually said grace, but only because her parents were religious and she only continued to do it because everyone else was and she would get a scowl if she didn't. But she knew families would go around asking this and for once she felt like her and Santana were a family—she was all she needed for now, that is until they decide they want kids or something.

"I'm most thankful for you," she tells her simply, before continuing when she noticed Santana didn't falter. "I'm most thankful that you've always been there. Sure we've fought in the past over petty things that seem so useless now, but we overcame that. I'm thankful for that Halloween when you had me come to the Haunted Acres with you. I'm thankful for the times we've spent together before we went off to college and I'm thankful for the moments like this that may not come very often, but are so worth the wait because it is with you," Quinn elaborates, making Santana smile warmly at her. She leans over the table halfway as Quinn met her the other half to kiss her.

"I love you," she mumbles into her lips as Quinn returned it.

"What about you? What are you most thankful for?" Quinn repeated, only to have Santana slide out of her chair and walk over to her.

Santana sighs as she stands above Quinn, who continued to look up at her curiously. "I think you stole my thunder, but um—I'm thankful to have you in my life. When I needed someone after Brittany and I didn't work out, you were always there. I'm also thankful that you came to the Haunted Acres with me as well because I got to spend the time I wanted with you and not be afraid of looking like a pussy in front of you," Quinn laughs at that. "I'm thankful for the fact that you came to check on me, even walking in the cold for twenty minutes just to see me. I'm thankful for when you kissed me. I'm also thankful for the rest of the time I spent with you during high school and though we don't see each other often now, I'm thankful for when I do—oh and for Skype, you can't forget that lovely invention," Quinn laughed at that again.

"But what I hope to be most thankful for—if you let me," Santana began, getting down on her knee and pulling out a ring box. Quinn's eyes widen, but begin to water—she knew what was coming next, but she didn't want to steal her thunder again. "What I'd be most thankful for is if you'd be my wife. We'll have a good life with you working for a high end magazine or writing books like you want with your journalism degree and me working for an upscale business. We'll get a house in the suburbs and make fun of our crazy neighbors like they do in that show Suburgatory . We'll have little babies and name them Santiago and Little Quinn—so please marry me," she finishes, making Quinn laugh between her tears. It was the cutest proposal she's ever gotten and that's saying something.

She bit her bottom lip and nods. "Yes I'll marry you," she tells her, before the tears begin to flow as Santana smiles wide, letting her dimple show as she slips the ring on and pulls her up to hug and kiss her.

When they pull away, Quinn sniffles as Santana wipes her tears away. "Although, we'll have to work on the baby names," she adds, making Santana laugh and kiss her again.

"Whatever you want,"

x.x.x.x.x

Santana was on her laptop in Quinn's bed as Quinn was getting ready in the bathroom. She was looking through her Facebook—she just placed the picture of their failed attempt for a meal, although after having the directions, the rest of the stuff turned out delicious. All the comments really stood out to her since she took a new picture of it all placed out on the table with her and Quinn leaning in front of it.

Rachel Berry: My god what in all that is good happened to that turkey? I hope you guys didn't eat it—not that you should anyway because it's a poor innocent creature.

Noah Puckerman: Calm your tits Rachel, I'm sure they didn't eat it. But seriously everything else looks so good, but I'm not coming to your house for next Thanksgiving if that's what the meat is gonna look like. Sorry I love you guys still.

Brittany S. Pierce (Lord Tubbington): You guys look amazing together! :D and did Santa come early? Because your turkey looks like a giant lump of charcoal.

Santana Lopez: Rachel, no we didn't eat it. Quinn thought it'd be a good idea to just "wing it" before I got in, so I couldn't save it. Puck, good! Because we're not inviting you anyway—only Britt Britt gets to come because her comment was the nicest one. Britt, you're the best and thank you :D, yes Santa came early and that's your Christmas present—we were going to surprise you ;).

As Santana was about to close Facebook she noticed she got tagged in a picture. She got confused and clicked on the notification before the picture popped up.

It was a picture of the ring she gave Quinn and on the caption it said: She put a ring on it! And when she got to her profile it said: In a relationship with Quinn Fabray (soon to be Lopez). The door from the bathroom opens and Quinn is holding her phone in her hand as Santana eyes her.

"Are we Facebook official now?" Santana smiles and Quinn hops into bed.

"Almost—and—now we are! Accept the request and it'll soon change to engaged," Quinn tells her and Santana looks at her screen, and instantly notices the request.

"Oh! Look at that, like clockwork," she kids, before hitting accept and turning her computer off. "I'm expecting many questions and comments, as well as texts because of you," she adds, before turning over and getting on top of Quinn, who smirks seductively at this motion.

"You should be happy that I want to share the news,"

"I am, but what I'd want more is for you to take my pants off like you promised you would earlier," Santana states as Quinn hooks her hands in the waistband of her pants.

"Consider it done,"

Here's part two to the Quinntana goodness. I am doing a series based on holidays and placing them in the situation during different times in their lives. Last one was "Holy Water" if you haven't read that, go do it! :) and please review and let me know what you think.