A/N: I do not own Glee, Santana or Sebastian.

OMG DID EVERYONE SEE 'I Want You Back'?! AMAZINGNESS.

Anyway, back to this! We're finally here, the wedding of the year.

I have to thank everyone again for your wonderful reviews, reading them is just the best feeling & it makes me so, so, so happy. Extra special shoutout to 'shweirbones' who continues to send me spine-tinglingly brilliant reviews - THANK YOU!

I will leave you all to it, and hope to hear from you again very, very soon.

Here it is:

Chapter 10 - another heartache, another failed romance

Santana looked at herself, standing in front of the mirror in her wedding dress, so far from where she thought she'd be but in a position she finally wanted to be in. She wanted to marry Sebastian Smythe because she was in love with him and he was her soul mate. It had taken a few months of solitary confinement with him to take him from being her darkest enemy to her brightest joy but it had led her to this.

She had thought all those months ago that on this day she would feel nothing but resentment and disgust but she was, at last, glad to be here. And yet, something was not sitting right with her and she could not figure out at all what it was.

Every detail had been organised with precision by Rosemary: the service, the reception, the outfit. Santana had been dressed in a tight fitting corset bodice with beaded lace embellishments adorning the sweetheart strapless neckline and trailing down to her waist from which a huge ball-gown skirt expanded in layers upon layers of netting and tulle. It was a heavy dress but it looked beautiful and exquisite on her, even if it took a lot of effort to move it around.

Rosemary had styled it with Santana's dark hair in an intricate up-do with small wisps of hair in loose waves at her temples and a glistening tiara to hold her veil in place. A woman had come in to do Santana's hair - a friend of Rosemary's, of course - and another had come to do her make-up. It was done slightly heavier than Santana would have done it herself and she couldn't help but feel like the excesses of foundation and mascara were to mask any blemish in her character rather than her face. She looked every piece the fairy-tale bride who would be gracing the cover of 'Westerville Magazine' in style and claiming her place as the newest member of the Smythe family with pride, but somewhere underneath all the make-up, she could just about distinguish herself.

She gathered the layers of netting in her fists and moved away from the mirror to pick up her bouquet and wait for her father to arrive.

There was a knock on the door.

Santana crossed to open it, every step slower than she was used to as she heaved the heavy dress across the room.

The knock came again, more urgently.

"I'm coming!" Santana called exasperatedly, reaching the door and flinging it open.

Sebastian was stood before her.

He looked gorgeous: a crisp grey suit, his hair readily quaffed in his signature style, and his vivid green eyes shining. He faltered momentarily gazing down at her, but regained himself a second later and sighed blissfully, taking in his bride.

Santana beamed up at him before she realised what was happening. Her features rearranged themselves into a face of confusion and horror.

"What are you doing here?!" cried Santana, attempting to move behind the door to shield herself. "It's bad luck for you to see me in my dress!"

"Santana," said Sebastian placidly, progressing into the room and continuing to smile at her. "I don't think we're going to have any bad luck. Not anymore. Besides, considering this marriage was arranged, anything going wrong is easily avoidable."

Sebastian was still smiling but his words had hit Santana heavily. Despite the fact that she was ridiculously in love with him, this was an arranged marriage still. That was something inescapable that whether she loved him or not, she would be marrying him anyway. She had lost any choice the moment her father had told her and every decision had been Rosemary's or Stefan's after that.

Santana fixed her face into an incandescent smile and said,

"You're right. But why are you here?"

"I just wanted one moment with you, alone, before everything." Sebastian murmured, moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Santana whispered demurely, an unavoidable smile crossing her face.

He kissed her cheek delicately and she sighed in his arms.

"You'd better go, though," murmured Santana disappointedly as he trailed his mouth down to her smooth neck, "My father will be here any moment."

"Of course," Sebastian nodded, drawing himself reluctantly away from her.

He sighed heavily and glanced back at her once more in the doorway. "See you in there." He grinned and disappeared out the door.

Santana wanted nothing more than to sink down onto the sofa in her dressing room to relax for a bit and do some breathing exercises to calm down. But she knew that in this dress, if she sat down, she'd never be able to get up on her own. Rosemary had had the clever idea of wearing low heeled shoes – something Santana would have abhorred if not for the fact that the dress was so big that her shoes would be hidden by the layers of tulle anyway.

Choosing to lean up against the back of the sofa as a compromise, Santana was reminded of the first interview between her and Sebastian at the Smythe mansion. She could never have imagined then that this day would actually arrive and everything that had happened in between.

There was another knock at the door.

It was her father, beaming proudly down at her.

"¿Listas cariña?" asked Dr Lopez, holding his arm out and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Si papa," Santana replied, taking his arm and following him out the room to her future. She smiled happily up at him and said,

"Can you believe this day is finally here, papa?"

"No," admitted Javier, "In fact, I thought I'd have to drag you down the aisle kicking and screaming. I am so, so proud of you, mija, and I know your mother would be too."

"I know she would be as well." Santana agreed, smiling sadly at him.

"You look so like her today, Santana, more radiant than ever." Dr Lopez told her as he pulled the veil over her face, it fluttering down to settle over her tanned skin and deep eyes and they waited for their cue to walk down the aisle.

"Gracias papa, te amo," She smiled at him again and took a deep breath as the doors swung open to her future.

Bells tolled felicitously as she stepped into the room and all the guests stood to welcome her in. It was decorated splendidly with beautiful flowers, white roses and lilies to match her bouquet, dotted with small pink peonies. There were flowers adorning the alter, in the pews and on the carpeted floor of the aisle. The flower girl – who had been a cousin of Sebastian's Santana had met only this morning – must have scattered the petals as she descended the aisle in front of the bride.

The church was filled with people, watching her, beaming at her, taking photos of her. She was immediately struck by the amount of photographers near the back of the church, snapping pictures of her the second she walked through the door. Reporters were muttered a description of her dress into small Dictaphones and recounting every motion she made. She was beginning to feel more and more like a celebrity than ever before.

Feeling nervous and under pressure, she glanced worryingly around the room. First she peeked at her father who smiled encouragingly, then Rosemary who was watching her with a careful intensity and finally Sebastian.

He gave her a slight nod and his eyes shining, he chewed his lip teasingly.

Santana grinned to herself, recognising his habitual movement and feeling slightly better. She allowed her father to guide her between the people, holding her head high and beaming luminously. He kissed her delicately at the end of the aisle, lifting her veil slightly, then he went to take his seat beside Santana's grandmother and her elder brother Anthony.

Santana took her place next to Sebastian and exhaled deeply.

"You okay?" muttered Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth.

Santana gave a sharp, short nod and reached out to slip her hand into his. He squeezed her palm reassuringly and faced the priest as he began to speak. A few prayers were said and a hymn was sung with continual references being made to the wonderful generosity of the Smythe family and how honoured all were to be part of such a joyous day.

The priest faced the couple and looked at them deeply, beginning to speak.

"Sebastian and Santana," He said gravely, "You have made a very serious and important decision in choosing to marry each other today. You are entering into an unbreakable bond as life partners."

Santana swallowed thickly. She could feel beads of sweat building on her forehead. A shiver ran down her back and she shifted nervously.

Sebastian tightened his grip on her hand and licked his lips, trying to focus on the priest's words.

"The quality of your marriage will reflect what you put into nurturing this relationship." The priest continued, his boring eyes flitting between Santana's dark eyes and Sebastian's vivid green stare. "You have the opportunity to go forward from this day to create a faithful, kind, and tender partnership. We, your friends and your family, bless you on this day. It is up to you to keep the blessings strong and pass them forward in each day of your lives together. We wish for you the wisdom, compassion, and constancy to create a peaceful sanctuary in which you can both grow in love."

Sebastian glanced at Santana, grinning hopefully. She smiled back, her throat constricting, but she pushed it away.

"Sebastian, do you understand and accept this responsibility, promising to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage with Santana just as your parents have before you?" asked the priest, looking at Sebastian encouragingly.

Sebastian nodded happily and replied, "Yes, I do."

His eye-line flickered to Santana, smiling jovially at her.

Santana looked straight ahead, her hands feeling clammy in his palm, wishing he wasn't holding onto her so tightly. She did not want to let him down at all.

"Santana," continued the priest, moving his gaze to her, "Do you understand and accept this responsibility, promising to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy and happy marriage with Sebastian just as your parents have before you?"

Santana's bottom lip trembled, watching as the priest's eyes bored into her. She glanced at Sebastian who was still smiling, but slight creases were beginning to form in his forehead as he narrowed his eyes. She had not answered yet; he couldn't understand it.

Santana looked over her shoulder to her father smiling proudly up at her and the seat beside him which should have been her mother's. She moved to look at Rosemary and Stefan Smythe who were watching her with concern, a stony look beginning to cross Stefan's face. Rosemary pursed her lips, regarding Santana haughtily and gave her a slight nod.

Santana glanced back to the priest and murmured softly, "No,"

A small gasp rippled around the church.

The photographers stood to take photos of the moment whilst reporters recounted what had just happened into their Dictaphones.

"I'm sorry," Santana whispered to Sebastian who had dragged his hand out of hers roughly. "I can explain. Just I can't, not now."

She gathered the layers of tulle and netting in her fists and lifted the heavy dress in her palms to free her feet. Glancing back once over her shoulder at Sebastian, Santana's dark eyes met his and she smiled sadly.

Then she ran back up the aisle and out the church before her tears had begun to fall.

GASP.

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