AN: Hi everyone, I'm so sorry about the long delay in posting. I've got this story planned out in my head and as I get close to the end of things I tend to go into denial mode. Whilst it is almost the end of this story, however, it isn't the end of Quinn and Santana's story, and there will be another sequel to come. We haven't quite reached the end of this story yet though, and there's at least one more chapter after this so let me know what you think (if any of you are still out there!)

Chapter Thirty-Five: New Beginnings

August 15th, 2015…

"Beth, come here and let me fix your hair!" Quinn tried not to let her exasperation overtake her as her daughter bounced excitedly on the queen-sized bed in Quinn's former bedroom, the white skirt of her chiffon dress floating out around her as her blonde curls bounced wildly. The five year old giggled madly and paid no heed to Quinn. She'd been awake since the crack of dawn, hyper and eager for the day to start. She'd begged to put on her "princess" dress at breakfast time and then sulked until lunch time when Quinn refused. After lunch, Beth had watched the caterers setting up the long tables filled with delicious desserts – she hadn't been interested in the funny looking savoury dishes – and she'd managed to ingest an unhealthy amount of sugar before Quinn found her and dragged her inside to take a bath. Quinn's hair had been tied up in curlers and Beth told her that she thought it made her head look funny. Now it was four o'clock, both of them were showered and dressed, and if Beth would just stand still long enough for Quinn to tame her hair, they'd be ready to go.

As Quinn tried to maintain her composure – she really didn't want to walk down the aisle all hot and bothered and she could practically feel her make-up melting against her reddened cheeks – she reached for her daughter, wrapping her arms around the little girl's waist and stilling her movements. Beth squealed and wriggled against her, wanting nothing more than to continue with her game. She loved the way her pretty skirt flew out with every jump and she knew that once her hair had been fixed, she wouldn't be allowed to bounce any more.

"Let me go!" she insisted, struggling in Quinn's arms but to no avail. Quinn was too strong for her.

"Do you want to be a flower girl or not?" Quinn asked, letting her frustration show through just a little. "Because if you don't…" A bead of sweat trickled down her spine beneath her satin dress and she shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. Seriously, who thought an August wedding would be a good idea? – the weekend had already seen some of the hottest temperatures of the year so far.

"No, I do, I do," Beth replied hurriedly, hazel eyes wide as she scooted around Quinn and planted her bottom on the chair in front of the vanity unit. Quinn eyed the tangle of curls warily, trying to work out the best way to control her daughter's messy hair. The best option would be to wash her hair and start from scratch, but they really didn't have the time and Quinn didn't want to risk damaging her freshly manicured nails. In the end she resorted to copious amounts of smoothing serum, twirling the curls around her fingers until they tumbled in shiny blonde ringlets to Beth's small shoulders.

"Beautiful," Quinn told her, planting a soft kiss on her daughter's head. She handed the five year old her small bouquet of pink and white flowers and tied a matching pink satin ribbon around Beth's waist. The pink had been Beth's request and whilst it didn't really fit with the red and white color scheme, no one could refuse her when she pouted and begged so adorably.

Quinn smoothed the skirt of her own ivory-colored dress, simple and elegantly cut, and slipped her pedicured feet into silver sandals. "How do I look?" she asked Beth, giving her a slow twirl.

Beth considered her answer carefully. "You look beautiful, Mommy," she said finally. Then her brow puckered as she realized what she'd said. It wasn't the first time she'd called Quinn mommy, she'd used the term several times over the past couple of months, but it usually tumbled from her lips when she was half-asleep or distracted, and this was the first time she'd become consciously aware of using the word. Her eyes filled with tears that caught in her eyelashes, and Quinn instantly dropped to her knees on the thick carpet.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," she murmured, her heart breaking for the little girl. "It's okay. You don't want to be all red and puffy when you walk down the aisle, do you?"

Beth sniffled as she shook her head, but stray tears trickled down her cheeks nonetheless. "I didn't mean to say it," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I know," Quinn replied, rubbing Beth's back soothingly. She could feel the tension between her small shoulder blades. "But, I'm glad you did. It feels nice to hear you say it."

"You don't think my mommy would be mad?" Beth asked in a small voice.

Quinn shook her head vehemently. "No, sweetie, no. Little girls need their mommy sometimes and you had yours taken away from you. I think that Shelby would understand if it slips out sometimes. All she ever wanted was for you to be happy." She reached out to brush a stray curl out of her daughter's eyes as she tried to think of a way to make this better for Beth. She was mentally kicking herself for not preparing for this eventuality after the first time she'd heard the five year old utter the word.

Ignoring the fact that they were already running late for the ceremony, and were holding up dozens of invited guests, Quinn gathered Beth into her arms and carried her over to the bed before setting her down on the plush mattress and sitting down beside her.

Beth studied her expectantly, the tracks of her tears drying on her cheeks. "You know," Quinn said softly, a wistful smile playing on her lips, "when I was a little girl I used to call my mother Mama. If you wanted to, perhaps you could call me Mama sometimes, and then you can save Mommy to mean Shelby. That way you can keep it especially for her. But, if you want to keep calling me Quinn, that's fine too," she added, not wanting to put any pressure on her daughter.

"Mama." Beth sounded the word out tentatively, a gentle smile lighting up her features. "Okay." She snuggled into Quinn's arms and rubbed her cheek against the soft satin of her bodice. Quinn reveled in the innocent touch, loving the feeling of holding her daughter in her arms and hearing her call her Mama. A gentle knock on the door startled Quinn out of her reverie.

"Quinnie?" Judy called softly as she eased open the door. "Are you ready?"

Quinn beamed as her mother's perfectly coiffed head appeared. "Mom, you look lovely," she said happily. Her mother did indeed look radiant. Quinn recognized the same contentedness in Judy that she saw in herself every time she looked in the mirror. Her mom was happy, for perhaps the first time in her life and Quinn was thrilled for her. "Let's go." She took her daughter's hand and smoothed her skirt.

At the double doors leading into the garden, the three of them paused and shared an excited grin as the music began to play…

Two months earlier…

The summer seemed to be passing in the blink of an eye. Long humid days melted into one another and when Quinn stopped to think about things, she had to struggle to quell the feelings of panic that bubbled inside her. Life was changing, for all three of them, and sometimes, all Quinn wanted was the opportunity to stand still and catch her breath. She was the happiest she'd ever been, and the possibility of change seemed nebulous and worrisome. She wanted to revel in the here and how, but it seemed that all Santana and Beth could talk about was the future.

They wouldn't find out if Santana's show had been picked up by the network until mid-August, but early indications were looking good. Santana mused endlessly about her co-stars, the crew, the scripts the show-runners had FedExed to her. Quinn was thrilled by her fiancée's newfound confidence. The brunette oozed sex appeal from every pore, it was in the way she walked, the gentle sway of her hips, her perfect posture. Santana held her head higher than before - her dark eyes sparkled and her dazzling white teeth flashed every time she smiled, which was often. She seemed to be going to auditions almost daily, although in reality it was probably only two or three times a week. She was auditioning for small roles – guest spots and commercials mainly, as the studio had her on a retainer until they decided whether or not they were going to take the show to series.

Beth would be starting kindergarten in the fall, and the little girl asked endless questions about her new school from dawn until dusk each day. Which of her friends from pre-school would be in her class? What would her teacher be called? Would they teach her how to do joined-up writing like Quinn's? Would she get to play outside? What dress should she wear on her first day? Would they expect her to know how to read? She could recognize her name, and a few other words, but most of the written word was still alien to her. Quinn tried to answer all of Beth's questions thoughtfully and sensitively but it was tiring to keep going over and over the same ground.

Quinn, for her part, would be starting her senior year at Columbia, and she was anticipating an intense workload. Santana was encouraging her to quit her job in the library to focus on her studies, but Quinn didn't feel right about not bringing in any money. If anything, Santana's increased contributions would mean that Quinn's mom could stop paying their rent. Despite her promise to support her daughter through her education, Quinn longed to be self-sufficient, and since she'd become Beth's guardian, she felt even less comfortable taking her mom's money. If she was old enough to take care of a child, surely she should be responsible enough to pay her own rent.

Judy visited them in New York the last weekend in June and Quinn vocalized her worries as she sat on the cool Central Park grass and watched Santana and Beth playing a frenetic game of tag as her mother fussed with the picnic basket.

"Quinnie, I promised you that I would pay for your education," Judy told her with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "There's no need for you to be worrying about this, truly there isn't. I'm happy to support you, and I'd like to give you the opportunity to spend as much time with my granddaughter as possible. If you're trying to work as well as study, that's going to be difficult." She frowned slightly, taking in Quinn's stubborn pout, and sighed. "I know you want to be independent," she said softly, patting Quinn lightly on the knee. "Heaven knows, you've had your own opinions about everything under the sun since you were a toddler and trying to get you to change your mind about anything is like trying to hold back the tide, but I hope that you'll see the sense in letting me help you out a while longer. I don't need the money, but you do. Senior year is going to be hard enough without you trying to hold down a job as well, Santana's right about that."

"Of course I am." Santana flopped down on the grass beside Quinn, breathless and sticky, and Quinn pulled a face and pushed Santana away with a squeal as the brunette tried to kiss her playfully. "What am I right about?"

"About letting my mom help out with rent during senior year," Quinn said with a resigned sigh. She may have been stubborn, but even she recognized that she couldn't fight the combined force of her mom and her fiancée. Logically, she knew it made sense, and she could see that the extra time with Beth was worth sacrificing her pride, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. "Thank you, Mom," she added softly, reaching out to squeeze Judy's hand.

"You're welcome, darling." Judy beamed at her as she began to lay out the food for their lunch, and Beth came bounding over to investigate. Once the food was neatly arranged, Judy reached into the picnic basket once more and pulled out three champagne flutes and a dark green glass bottle that Quinn eyed with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Her darkening expression didn't go unnoticed by her mother. "It's sparkling cider," Judy said softly, adding, "it's non-alcoholic," and Quinn instantly felt guilty for jumping to conclusions, shooting her mother a contrite smile.

"Isn't all this a little extravagant for a lunch time picnic in the park?" Santana asked, casting her eyes over the spread laid out before them. Judy chuckled.

"Well, maybe," she admitted, "but I have some news and I wanted us all to celebrate together. I was going to wait until we'd eaten, but I suppose I could tell you now…" She paused for dramatic effect before announcing, "Paul asked me to marry him!"

"That's amazing!" Santana responded instantly, reaching past Quinn to offer Judy a one-armed hug, her dark eyes shining happily. "Congratulations, Judy!"

Quinn took a few moments to process the information, watching her fiancée congratulate her mother warmly. She took in Judy's appearance – her bright, clear eyes, gentle smile, and relaxed posture. She couldn't recall ever seeing her mother so at ease. Even her clothes were more casual than usual – a pale blue sweater that matched her eyes, jeans and sneakers, her blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail. Unexpectedly, Quinn felt her eyes fill with tears. Everything around her was changing, even her mom, and although the uncertainty was nebulous and overwhelming, she was starting to see that the changes on the horizon could be a good thing. Biting her lower lip, she glanced around at her family, feeling a rush of pride and love for the three people who meant the most to her. Judy noticed her daughter's expression and her brow puckered with anxiety as she misconstrued Quinn's tears as displeasure.

"Sweetheart?" she asked uncertainly, and Quinn shook her head vehemently as she realized how her reaction must look to Judy and Santana.

"Happy tears, Mom," she murmured, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Santana chuckled as Quinn buried her head into the crook of her neck. "You're such a girl," she teased, stroking Quinn's hair soothingly, her body shaking with laughter. "So, when's the wedding?" she asked curiously, accepting the glass of cider Judy offered her as Quinn nuzzled against her shoulder.

"Mid-August," Judy explained and Quinn's head shot up instantly.

"Mom, that's like six weeks away – you can't plan a wedding in six weeks!" she squealed, her mind immediately beginning to list all the things that needed to be organized. "There's too much to do – there's the venue, the catering, the band, the minister, the cake, the flowers, the dress…" She was only silenced by Santana planting a soft kiss against her lips as Judy shook her head serenely.

"Don't worry, Quinnie, it's all in hand," she said calmly. "The minister is booked and I'm meeting possible caterers and florists over the next couple of weeks. We're having the wedding at the house, so that's all arranged, and we want to keep it small – just family and close friends. David is going to be Paul's best man and I was hoping that you would be my maid of honor." As Quinn, nodded wordlessly, swallowing the lump in her throat, Judy turned to Beth, who was watching the whole exchange with a bemused expression on her pretty face. "And you, little one," she said, tickling Beth under her chin and delighting in the high pitched giggle she elicited, "I was thinking that you could be my flower girl. Would you like that?"

"Uh huh," Beth nodded firmly. "Would I get to wear a pretty dress?" she demanded. "Like Princess Sofia?" she added a moment later.

"Of course," Judy assured her. "You'll look beautiful. Not that you don't always look beautiful," she qualified and the three adults chuckled. At that moment, Beth's hair was a tousled mess of curls, her knees were grass-stained, and she had a smudge of dirt across the bridge of her nose. Beth scowled, aware that there was a joke that she didn't quite understand, but Judy pulled her into a reassuring hug. "Thank you for being my flower girl," she said softly. "And thank you for being my maid of honor," she told Quinn, taking her daughter's hand.

"I'm happy for you, Mom," Quinn replied honestly, finally finding her voice as Santana poked her painfully hard in the ribs. "Paul's a great guy. But really, six weeks? Are you sure that you can pull everything together in time? What about a fall wedding instead?"

Judy's cheeks reddened slightly. "Quinnie, darling, when you reach my age, every moment is precious. Paul and I don't want to wait any longer than necessary to start our lives together."

"But you're not that old," Quinn countered, her brow furrowing in confusion. Judy blushed again and Santana brushed aside Quinn's hair to whisper softly in her fiancée's ear.

"For someone so smart, you can be incredibly obtuse," she muttered. "Baby, I know your mom's open-minded about us, but she's pretty old-fashioned when it comes to her own choices. Start our lives together is a euphemism."

Quinn's eyes widened as she realized what Santana meant and then it was her turn to blush, feeling the heat creep over her chest, up her neck, and over her cheeks as Santana struggled not to laugh. For her part, Judy busied herself with loading up a plate with food for Beth and ignored the whole exchange with as much dignity as she could muster.

August 15th, 2015…

The wedding ceremony was simple, classic, and beautiful, much like Judy herself. Rather than choosing to recite their own vows, Judy and Paul spoke the traditional phrases to each other, promising to honor, protect, and cherish one another for the rest of their lives. Quinn had never seen her mother look happier than in the moment when the minister declared them husband and wife and instructed Paul to kiss his bride.

Then came the reception, with an ill-at-ease speech from David as his father's best man, before the guests hit the dance floor and Quinn finally relaxed in Santana's familiar embrace, feeling the last vestiges of sunlight warm her skin, as the catering firm hurried around the garden lighting torches and switching on twinkling strands of fairy lights adorning the trees and bushes.

"Did I remember to tell you how sexy you look in that dress?" Quinn husked against Santana's ear, stroking her fingertips over her fiancée's hip, tugging lightly at red-wine colored fabric that hugged Santana's every curve.

"Once or twice," Santana chuckled absently, gazing out into the twilight as her body swayed in time with Quinn's.

"Well you do," Quinn assured her, pressing her lips lightly into the hollow below Santana's left ear, a move that never failed to make the brunette shiver with delight. Except this time. "What's wrong?" Quinn murmured softly. "You haven't been yourself all day," she added, thinking back. Santana had been quiet and distracted since breakfast time, but caught up in the hive of activity surrounding the wedding, it had taken Quinn until now to fully take notice. She vaguely remembered Santana's cell phone ringing and the brunette excusing herself to take the call. Quinn didn't remember if Santana had returned to the breakfast table but she'd been so distracted with Beth that she hadn't paid her fiancée much attention throughout the day.

"It's nothing," Santana told her dismissively. "Weddings always make me feel kind of strange, that's all. Remember Mr. Schue's wedding?" She ran her hands gently down Quinn's back, stopping just shy of the curve at the base of her spine, and captured her lips in a tender kiss. Quinn had been with Santana long enough to recognize a distraction technique and she refused to be deterred. She grasped her fiancée's hand and tugged her towards the house and away from the throng of people.

Wordlessly, they wove through the hectic kitchen, filled with caterers and waiters, into the darkened dining room. They could still make out the beat of the music filtering in from the garden, but the melody was muted at this distance.

"Talk to me," Quinn insisted anxiously. "What's going on, San?"

Santana sighed and studied the wall behind Quinn's head intently, not wanting to meet her gaze.

"Please, Q, let's not do this tonight?" she asked softly, digging the fingernails of her left hand into her right arm until Quinn put a hand out to stop her from hurting herself.

"Do what?" Quinn was starting to feel a familiar sense of panic now, and she chewed her lower lip anxiously. "Santana, talk to me, please?"

Santana nodded and sank into a dining chair wearily.

"I got a call from my agent this morning," she said quietly. "The show's been picked up as a mid-season replacement. Filming starts in October." Her voice was strangely devoid of emotion and Quinn felt an odd sense of dread creeping over her.

"So, why…?" she began, breaking off and shaking her head. Santana's reaction was a total mystery to her. Her fiancée should be laughing and celebrating, but she looked like her best friend had just died. When Santana's gaze met Quinn's, she was horrified to see the brunette's dark eyes shining with unshed tears. "San, sweetie, please tell me what's wrong?" she coaxed gently.

"I told them I want out of my contract," Santana admitted darkly, as Quinn dropped to her knees in front of her and reached for her hands, stroking tiny, soothing circles with her thumbs.

"But why?" Quinn asked plaintively. "This is your dream, San, and all I've heard from you for weeks is how amazing the writing is and how much you loved being on the set. What's changed?" She let go of Santana's hands to touch her cheeks, brushing away the tears tenderly with the pads of her fingers.

"The studio moved the shooting location," admitted Santana brokenly. "To fucking California." A fresh wave of tears trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily, pushing Quinn's hands out of the way as she did so.

"Oh," Quinn said softly, her mind reeling as she tried to process the information. She wanted to say something more, something meaningful, something soothing, something to make it all better, but there was nothing she could say.

"I didn't want to tell you today," Santana continued bitterly. "It's your mom's wedding and I didn't want to spoil it. I wanted to wait until tomorrow but you wouldn't let it go," she added pointedly, making it clear that she was blaming Quinn for ruining the atmosphere.

Quinn winced and tried to remind herself that Santana was upset and that her anger was misplaced, but it was hard to remain calm when her fiancée was glaring at her. A small part of her was angry that Santana had, once again, made a decision without consulting her by telling her agent she wanted to drop out of the show, but more than anything, her heart was breaking for the brunette. Santana deserved that role, and it wasn't fair that it was being torn away from her.

"Maybe… maybe it doesn't have to be this way?" Quinn began hesitantly and Santana stood up violently, almost knocking over the chair in her haste.

"Of course it does," Santana said, struggling to keep from raising her voice. "What other option is there? We all pack up and move to California? You'd give up school to follow me?"

Quinn shook her head desperately as she clambered to her feet. "I can't, San," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "It's my senior year… I can't transfer, not again." She hadn't meant to point out that she'd already changed schools and moved across state lines once for Santana, but that's the way her fiancée took her confession.

"I know that, Q, you think I don't?" she spat angrily. "Why the fuck do you think I told them to let me go?"

"You could still go?" Quinn offered, her heart breaking even more as she considered the prospect. The thought of living apart from Santana was painful, but seeing how despondent losing her dream had made her was worse by far.

"You're telling me to leave you behind?" Santana asked incredulously. "To move thousands of miles away from you? I can't leave you, Q. I love you!"

"I love you too." Quinn was fighting back tears as well now but she blinked them away and took a shaky breath to try to rein in her emotions. "But we could make this work."

Santana shook her head vehemently. "No. Long distance relationships don't work. People grow apart, they change, and before they know it, they're strangers to each other. I can't lose you, Quinn. I can live without the show, but I can't live without you." As she spoke the final sentence, her anger dissipated and her shoulders sagged in defeat.

Without another word, Quinn gathered her in her arms and held her as they both shed bitter tears for Santana's lost opportunity. As she felt Santana's body tremble against her, a fresh wave of resentment flowed through Quinn. She couldn't let Santana give up her dream for her.

"Maybe there is a way," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper as she clung to Santana.

"How?" Santana asked shakily, her tears having abated as she allowed herself to take comfort in Quinn.

"Watching my mom and Paul today got me thinking," Quinn said softly, pulling back from the embrace slightly so she could look into Santana's dark, wounded eyes. "I love you, Santana, more than anything, and I love our family. You, me, and Beth, that's all I want."

"What about a long and fulfilling acting career?" Santana teased, smiling despite her anguish and Quinn chuckled softly.

"Well, that too," she admitted, her cheeks flushing, "but that goes without saying. My point is, I was listening to my mom make her vows and I… I'm ready, San. I want to stand up in front of our friends and family and make those same vows to you. I want to be your wife – not in five years from now, not even in five months from now. I want to marry you as soon as possible."

Now it was Santana's turn to be lost for words. She stammered a few incomprehensible syllables as her eyes gazed wondrously at Quinn.

"I want to make you a proposition," Quinn continued serenely, as Santana stared at her, transfixed. "And this isn't because of the show, or not entirely at least. I was going to talk to you about my feelings anyway, I promise. I want you to call your agent back and tell him that you've changed your mind. It's the weekend so I doubt he's told the studio about your decision yet. And then I want us to set a date to get married. I know you think long distance relationships don't work, and I know it isn't going to be easy, but it's not like we're some high school romance. We're going to be together for ever, San. Whatever the world throws at us, that's the one thing I'm certain of. I want you to go to California and be a star, because you deserve it, but I want you to do so as my wife. It's nine months tops and then I'll come and join you, and we can visit in between, and talk on the phone, and Skype every day." She said all of this very quickly and barely taking a breath, before she paused and frowned slightly as Santana continued to gape at her. "Say something?" she pleaded, a note of uncertainty sneaking into her voice.

"I will if I can get a word in," huffed Santana grouchily. "Geez, anyone listening to that would be calling New York to check that Berry hasn't dropped dead because it sounds like she's possessing you right now."

"Very funny." Quinn was not amused. She was pouring her heart out to Santana and her fiancée was teasing her. Still, at least it was preferable to anger and distress. "Santana? Will you do it?" she asked plaintively.

Slowly, decisively, Santana grinned, and then she nodded firmly.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Quinn's heart thudded in her chest like a stampede of horses. "To which part?" she asked nervously, wanting to make absolutely certain that she understood what Santana was agreeing to.

Santana gathered her into her arms and swung her around, peppering every part of Quinn she could reach with hot, wet, little kisses. "All of it," she confirmed before capturing Quinn's lips in a deep and tender kiss that left her body trembling with desire. It was all Quinn could do to resist dragging Santana upstairs, stripping her naked, and making passionate love to her all night long, but it was her mom's wedding and their absence was sure to be noticed soon. It had to be almost time to cut the cake.

Reluctantly, she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen and sighed. "We should get back out there," she said half-heartedly, without making any effort to move.

"We really should," Santana agreed, her hand snaking between their bodies to firmly cup the curve of Quinn's breast.

"Hmm, you're not helping," Quinn murmured, as Santana's lips found the sweet spot just below her ear and suckled hard enough to leave a mark.

"I don't care," replied Santana with a low chuckle, as Quinn's hands traitorously trailed down the brunette's back, tugging her even closer, so that their bodies pressed intimately against each other. "We're getting married," she husked, "like, really, getting married."

"We are," confirmed Quinn, her breath hitching in her throat as Santana scraped her fingernails over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, bunching up her dress as she went. "San, we can't… do that… here," she panted as her fiancée's nimble fingers skated dangerously close to her center. "Someone could come looking for us. Later, I promise, you can do whatever you like to me, but we need to stop right now."

With immense effort, they disentangled themselves from each other, both flushed, dishevelled, and breathing hard. It wasn't a moment too soon. They jumped apart guiltily as Quinn's mother's voice sounded in the kitchen, calling her name.

Seconds later, her mother entered the room, looking radiant and serene. "There you are," she chastised gently. "David said he thought her saw you come in here." She rolled her eyes in amusement as she smoothed her daughter's mussed hair. "Really, Quinnie, you look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards."

"Sorry, Mom," Quinn muttered, as Santana snickered. "We were just about to head back outside," she added, surreptitiously trying to adjust her hair to cover what she was certain must be a visible love bite on the side of her neck.

"Of course you were," her mother said, not entirely believably, her blue eyes twinkling with laughter. "Well, it's time to cut the cake and toss the bouquet, and your daughter has eaten her way through an obscene amount of sugar whilst the two of you have been in here canoodling."

"We weren't…" Quinn began but Judy stared pointedly at the half hidden bruise on her neck and she shut up hurriedly.

Minutes later, the cake had been cut and photographs had been taken, and all the unmarried women were lining up for their chance to catch the bouquet. Santana point blank refused to get involved, instead wrestling a suddenly sugar-crashed Beth out of Quinn's arms and ushering her fiancée into the throng. Judy turned her back and tossed the bouquet quickly, and without even trying, Quinn somehow found herself with an armful of roses as Santana whooped and hollered from the side-lines.

Quinn looked down at the bunch of flowers in her arms and smiled. "I'm getting married," she whispered under her breath, before catching Santana's gaze. The unfettered grin on her fiancée's face was enough to convince Quinn that the brunette had read her lips, even if she'd been unable to hear the words. In long, measured steps, Quinn crossed the dance floor to Santana and kissed her soundly, as Santana adjusted the weight of a drowsy Beth in her arms.

"Hey, Beth, you want to hear a secret?" Quinn whispered in her daughter's ear. Beth nodded sleepily. "I'm getting married," she said conspiratorially. Beth opened a bleary eye and studied her intently.

"Now?" she asked wearily.

Quinn and Santana laughed out loud as Beth pouted and buried her head against Santana's shoulder.

"Soon," Quinn promised, catching Santana's gaze and holding it as she grinned. "Very soon."