"Hey, Q?" Santana started as they began to leave the store, "you need groceries?"

"Do I, what?" Quinn's step faltered as it stops. "Actually, yeah. I don't think I have my card with me, though." She turns as she says this, and starts to look in her bag. Quickly retrieving her purse, Santana places her hands around both it and Quinn's to stop her.

"Doesn't matter. I'm paying." Santana smirks proudly and begins to march into the store.

"Santana! Wait!" Quinn calls, stuffing her purse back in her bag and closing it before chasing after her now-fiancée. "Come on, hold up!" she whisper shouts as Santana stops and turns around.

"We probably need a cart, huh." the Latina murmurs, causing Quinn to huff, turn on her heel and growl as she exits the store to the carts, leaving Santana to trail in her fumes now.

It's half an hour later and they're still trapped in Walmart, Santana now trying to convince Quinn that she really needs a Connecticut pirate costume.

"Santana, I don't even think there's a Connecticut pirate, someone just probably wrote the State's name on a costume to try sell it to tourists. Congratulations, you're falling into their trap." She'd try to walk away, but one of Santana's hands has the cart, the other arm linked with one of her own.

"Hey, don't you need a cheesy costume for all those frat parties I know you go to? C'mon, babe, I'm honestly trying to treat you. Pick something out!" Santana sighs, moving onto the other costumes. Well, once she'd passed the 'Frozen' dresses. That film is both old and out of season, Walmart!

"You want to treat me?" Quinn asks, stunned enough to have to be dragged along as Santana moves. That is until she stops, right by the Lego.

"Yeah, I'm buying you groceries as like a massive thank you because I shouldn't really need to marry you, but I'm sort of in that position and you said yes, and that means the world to me. Like, not just cos I need it and you're a life saver, but cos it's you, you know? Like, you're you. I'm not massively eloquent, but do you get that?" Santana paused a moment, enough for a quick nod and murmured 'I think so' from Quinn, "Yeah, but like, it's only fair that I get at least your groceries, so I wanna get you like a present as a personal thank you and as, like. I know I didn't really do the proposal thing well, so as a bit of a substitute for that." Santana looked down and, though touched, Quinn broke into a grin and started chuckling. "Alright, yeah, I'm kinda sappy. Shut up, Fabray." Santana hissed without malice.

"No, no!" Quinn collected herself and began to respond, wrapping Santana in a hug, "It's not that, gosh no! I think you're incredibly sweet. But, you wanted to treat me, to a pirate costume?" Santana also started laughing now, returning Quinn's hug tightly.

"Guess you're right, but I thought it was like fun and practical, maybe, and you know we're in a Walmart, Q, right?" They pull back from each other and Quinn smirks.

"You know what they have in a Walmart, Santa? Wine. They have lots of wine." Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, she gets Santana to laugh and start pushing the cart to the far end of the store with the alcohol.

"You do know we're twenty, right, Q?" Santana asks as Quinn begins to pick out a couple of bottles.

"Well, I think it's just convenient that Emily Stark has managed to leave her license in my purse. Again." Quinn winks as she places the bottles down by her whole grain loaf.

It was only when trying to carry three bags of groceries up to the fourth floor of Quinn's residential block all at once did Santana regret her chivalrous offer to do just so. At least Quinn held the doors open for her.

"So, where's this kitchen of yours, Q? You know, you've never made me food here before." Santana asked, dumping the bags on Quinn's bed. After Quinn retrieved the bottles of wine and stashed the Ben and Jerry's in her mini fridge, she turned back to Santana.

"That's because Berkeley has a kick-ass meal plan and you always steal my food, Santa. It's down the hall." Whilst leading Santana to the kitchen, they bumped into several of Quinn's dorm mates. Though most assumed Santana was another student whenever they saw her around the university so naturally, several had spoken to her, and Quinn's other visitors. Reaching the kitchen, Quinn began to make a sandwich from what was left of her supplies and left Santana to unpack the new groceries. James, sharing Quinn's math requirement course, was eating a PBJ and watching a Vikings game on his computer as the Latina tried to dance around him to reach the board with a marker tacked to it.

"Oh, hey Santana." James smiled around his mouthful. "Oh, what do you need?" he asked, getting up to help her when he realised he was in her way.

"Just the marker, J. Thanks." she stepped backwards as his chair moved out and smiled as he handed her the pen. James kept watching as she labeled everything with Quinn's name.

"Aw, you're doing her bitch work. You guys are so cute!" he called as Santana best worked out how to label a pack of apples, and then she scowled at him. "Aw, Santana. Deny it all you like, we all think that the pair of you would make a really nice couple." it was at this point that Quinn passed the sandwich she had been making over to Santana, "Look!" James dramatically gestured at the action.

"As your friends, Quinn, we all agree that you need to start dating Santana. Before you, like, make her explode from the friendzone. And as someone who has met you, Santana, ditto." James added in a fake 'sincere' voice as another of their math course mates entered and then the pair left, leaving Santana and Quinn alone.

"Thank you for the sandwich, dear. You know, I hear we make a cute couple." Santana smirked around her mouthful.

"Shut up, Santana. It's leftover cold cuts I didn't want to eat." Quinn responded whilst washing the knife, a smile on her face that she hid by continuing to glare at the scratch on the bottom of the sink.

"Mmmm, well you should, because this is delicious." Santana knew that Quinn would be smiling, and replied in a certainly non provocative way. Well, you know, if you were five.

It was only after Quinn had poured their first glasses of wine that Santana suddenly thought about shopping again.

"Quinnie, are there any fancy dress shops around here?" she asked saccharine, aware that Quinn would not want to leave her room now settled.

"I told you, Santa, I don't want or need a pirate costume." she said, taking her seat on her bed.

"Yet." Santana added as if knowingly, tipping her glass to Quinn as she sat, "but I meant like ballgown type dresses, but not quite that expensive. We've ask been told it's black tie for Jesse's new show." she explained, leaning against Quinn's shoulder.

"Ugh, why are we going? Why were we even invited? Just because he had a weird teacher crush and transferred it onto Rachel then became obsessed doesn't really make him part of our little glee family. What's the show?" Quinn asked, initially ranting to her Michelle Pfeiffer poster ("I'm not gay, but if she's not hot you're blind."), but turning to Santana to ask the last question.

"Hamilton? Yeah, and you like history, it'll be fun. Plus, free show." Santana reasoned, having removed her head from Quinn's shoulder and now leaning it against the adjacent wall.

"Yeah, but because you've got half of McKinley coming down, Rachel so kindly got Kurt to be the bearer of bad news and tell me the 'unlimited invitation' to your loft that I'd been extended was void that week." she paused as she smirked back at Santana, "He then clarified that I'd probably have to find a hotel if I wanted to stay because the gleeks are in the loft because they already had to get plane tickets." both were grinning at the awful roommate antics

"Hey, I've been kicked out, too, Q. Apparently Rachel doesn't want me cluttering up the place when Mr Schue's there. But she did convince Shelby to offer me a place on her couch." Santana looked thoughtful then brushed her hand down, "Eh, I'll just get a hotel room with you. Can you imagine a five year old waking me up at the ass crack of dawn when I've been out? I don't wanna murder your kid." Quinn frowned at her.

"First, she's four. Second," here Quinn leant forward to place her glass down and waited for Santana to follow suit, grabbing a cushion to pelt her fiancée with as the other woman sat back up.

"I know you don't want to start a pillow fight." Santana said, even from her position slumped between the bed and wall.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you just wanted an excuse to get me on my back." Santana smirked, and while Quinn tried to form a retort, grabbed a cushion and flung it at her. Clearly, Quinn hadn't wanted to start a pillow fight, because it soon devolved into a tickle fight, and that calmed down to the pair cuddling on Quinn's bed. "Thanks for saying yes." A sleepy Santana admitted, cradled against Quinn.

"Stop thanking me or I'll take it back." Quinn muttered against Santana's cheek before giving the lightly napping girl a gentle kiss to the nose.

"No you wouldn't." the quiet assertion shocked Quinn, who thought Santana was asleep or nearly there, but the soft peck to her lips didn't. "Night, Q."