Cynthia gave them a very friendly smile when Quinn and Santana got out of the car. "Afternoon, ladies," she greeted them. Quinn reached for Santana's hand and Santana turned it over readily.

"Afternoon, Ms. Lyles. How are you?"

"Very good, and I think this is one that you two will really enjoy. It's a four bedroom, 2 baths, 2,000 sq. ft home, $200,000 under your top end, and it's less than 25 minutes away from your work."

"By a minute," Santana mumbled.

Their gazes turned towards the house. "First thoughts?"

"It's not a Victorian."

"No," Cynthia agreed, but wait until you see the inside."

Quinn gave her wife a look mentally pleading for Santana to give it a chance before she immediately dismissed the house, though she could tell that Santana was already not impressed.

"Neighbors are pretty close, to-"

"But it comes with a garage, and you have ample back yard."

They walked around to the back of the house. "There's no fence in the backyard. Not even a little white picket one."

They went back around front and into the house. "If you notice there's hardwood floors throughout the entire lower half of the house, just like you wanted, and bay windows."

"We could build a little bench to put underneath the window, and have a place to read."

Cynthia smiled at the first positive thing Santana said about the house, the first indication that she could see herself in the space. The first bedroom they went to was on the first floor, and it too had hardwood floors. "We can put carpet down," Quinn said before Santana could complain about it. To be honest she had pretty much seen as much of the house as she needed to, but since she had instructed Santana to keep an open mind she needed to, too.

"When was the house built?"

"1930."

They did a quick walk through the rest of the house. They never made it to the bathroom, but judging by how outdated the kitchen was, Quinn was certain they weren't missing anything. When they finished with all they wanted to see with this house, they went to look at another house in the same neighborhood.

It was another 4 bedroom, 2 bath house, $60,000 more than the first house, with about the same amount of square footage. It wasn't a Victorian either, but it wasn't box-like like the house had been.

"One car lane," Santana noted.

"Yes, but the drive is long enough to fit two cars."

The back yard was comparable in size to the last one, though it had a fence up, and the neighbors didn't seem so close in.

Things only got better when they made it inside the house.

"I like the door," Santana said randomly as they walked through it.

Quinn agreed. Like the other house the floors were hardwood, and it came equipped with, "Oooh, there's our fireplace baby," Santana said excitedly. "Not a fan of that chandelier, though."

"We can easily replace fixtures. It can be our weekend project."

Santana turned towards Cynthia. "Is the fireplace wood burning or gas?"

"Gas, but the original fireplace is right behind the front, so it wouldn't take much effort to restore it."

Quinn and Santana exchanged looks at that. Quinn's eyes said she wouldn't mind the project.

"Babe, look at this kitchen!"

The kitchen wasn't brand new, but it had been updated since the house had been built, and all of the appliances were new.

"Do the appliances come with the house or are they going with the owner?"

"They stay."

"I'm not sure how I feel about the island table. We could probably knock this wall down to have a more open floor plan."

The ground floor bathroom was nothing to write home about. There was enough room to renovate, and even though Quinn would have liked it on the top floor (because it meant that everyone on the top floor would be sharing the one bath), so far she was happy with what she was seeing, and Santana seemed to like the house as well.

"This is a nice little window," Santana remarked as they walked past a window in the middle of the stairwell on the way up to the second floor.

The master bedroom had its own little patio that was big enough for them to put two chairs an end table, and a coffee table out there. "This is new," Cynthia informed them as they walked the space.

"I like this," Quinn said.

The fourth bedroom was on the third level. It was probably the largest of the bedrooms, and though it was a nice space, it was awkward. The stairs to get to it were narrow, you could tell it had obviously once been an attic, and one side had dormer windows while on the other side the wall extended normally. Although they could look into adding a bath, there otherwise wasn't one on this floor, and both Quinn and Santana agreed that if they had children they wouldn't feel comfortable using this room as their own, nor would they be able to use it as a kids playroom when the kids were young.

"It could always be a guest bedroom," Santana suggested.

Like the master bedroom on the second level, it also came with a balcony, a little bigger than the one downstairs. There was also a deck right off the kitchen, a recent add-on, they were informed.

"I really like this one," Quinn said at the car. "It needs some work, not too much, though."

"I liked it too," Santana agreed.

They looked at one more house before they called it the day. It was in the same neighborhood as the other two, and seemed to be an exact midpoint between them. It didn't wow either of them, so it, like the first house, went on their not interested list.

Santana kicked aside a stack of interior design magazines that Quinn had lying out on the table. Quinn had been on a decorating kick for a while now, but now that the New Year was fast approaching, she had become really serious about it. Obsessed. The DVR was set to record every song on HGTV, and she had this program downloaded on her computer that allowed her to decorate fake rooms. Last time Santana checked, she had 10 rooms saved in her project box.

Santana's head jerked up when the front door opened. "Hey, babe," she called automatically. She heard the rustling of bags, which caused her to look towards the door. "What's all that," Santana demanded, seeing her wife struggle to get through the front door.

"A little help," Quinn grunted.

Santana rolled her eyes, but she jumped up anyway, helping Quinn rustle the bags into the apartment. "Damn it, Quinn! We're trying to get rid of shit, not bring more into the fold."

"It was on sale!" Quinn protested. Santana rolled her eyes. "No, really, sweetie, it was a really good sale."

"Please tell me you didn't charge anything!"

Quinn placed a greeting kiss to her wife's lips. "You mean on the cards that you cut up?"

"No, I mean on the one you called Amex about and told them that you lost."

Quinn had the decency to look guilty. "You're not supposed to know about that."

"Did you forget that we're trying to buy a house?"

"Everybody needs at least one credit card."

"No, that's what credit card companies try to convince you of so they can charge you interest charges. No one needs a credit card. We've got our checking account, and our debit card, and if we don't have the money to cover whatever you're buying, then we don't need it. And the last thing we need two months before we move is more shit!"

Quinn frowned. "You're no fun when you're responsible."

"My job requires it." Credit was a veritable no-no in her world; she could actually get fired if she a) had too much debt or b) her credit score dropped too low. Right now it was as close to perfect as possible, because she knew exactly what marked you up and down in the credit world, and so she acted accordingly. It was easy to ace a test if you knew what the answers were. "Do you know what's one of the biggest reasons people get involved in organized crime? Debt." Quinn huffed. "And you know what one of the leading causes of divorce is? Finances. If we get divorced I want it to be because we can't stand each other anymore, not because you can't avoid a sale."

"Relax; I used the debit card, and it really was a good sale, I promise."

"Still. From here on out, the only thing that is coming in this apartment for us until we move are groceries. And I'm restricting eating out to two times a week and that includes lunches!"

Quinn rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks in a very Santana way.

"What would you rather have," Santana questioned reasonably, "a nice house, or greasy food?"

"I don't like you right now," Quinn said, walking away.

"Well, I still love you, bitch!" Santana called after her.

When Quinn came back after dropping the bags in their bedroom, she pushed Santana's legs off of the couch from where she had started to stretch out, and sat down beside her. Santana leaned up to give the woman a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Over. But let me show you what I bought."

Quinn handed over the item that she had kept out, sitting the box in Santana's lap. "Open it," Quinn instructed.

Santana did, pulling the ornament from the box that Quinn had dropped in her lap. "I found an angel whose wings form a star. That way we have both, and look-" she took the Star/Angel from Santana to plug it into the outlet. "It lights up! She kind of looks like you, too."

"Are you saying I'm an angel, Fablo?"

"Only the fallen kind."

Santana toyed with it. "I love it."

"I figured you would. Do you want the honors of putting it on the tree, or do you want me to do it?"

"I think you should do it, babe, because you found it."

Quinn unplugged the star/angel, and put it on top of the Christmas tree.

"Me too."

Quinn plugged the angel into the lights, and they stood back to admire the tree. "I think it looks good," Santana decided. She started to lean back down on the couch, but Quinn stopped her. "Hey, don't get too comfortable, I want us to get some packing done today."

"Really, babe? I just got home like an hour ago, tops!"

"So you need something to get your energy up, and exercises gives you endorphins."

"It's Christmas!"

"It's not Christmas until Sunday. The house has to be spotless for Christmas anyway, so we might as well get to it now."

"Babe, we haven't even put down an offer yet, why are we packing?"

"Because even if we don't find a house by my birthday, we will still be out of this apartment by February 15th. I've already cleared it with Mercedes; she says we can stay with her as long as we need to, so no matter what we will be out of here. We need to be packing soon; I don't want to wait until the last minute."

Quinn was sure that threatening to move in with their friends, even if it was temporary, was sure to give Santana an added incentive to find them a new residence.

"Santana!" Quinn said sharply when Santana didn't seem inclined to move from her position.

Santana held her hands up. "Calm your tits. I'm up." She climbed to her feet. "Though I think that you're just doing this because I yelled at you for shopping."

Quinn rolled her eyes in response. "Oh, hey, I forgot to mention. You have a black ball gown, right?"

"Yeah…why?"

"Our office party is on the 23rd."

"And it's black tie?"

"No, but you look hot in your little black dresses and I want to make everyone jealous."

"Is that you're way of asking me if I will escort you to your office party?"

Santana snorted. "I'm not asking, anything, I'm telling you."

"You're telling me?"

Santana nodded. "Two words babe: Fabray Thanksgiving."

Quinn decided not to pose an argument. "Okay, fine," Quinn said.

"Damn right," Santana agreed.

"But I'm curious, San. Did you purposely wait to tell me about your office party jus so you could pull that card?"

"You know me so well, babe."

Quinn and Cynthia had both been waiting for 15 minutes by the time Santana arrived on scene, out of breath, but looking very commanding in her navy blue business suit. "Okay, I'm here, and I'm missing lunch, so this better be good."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Did you run here?"

"Not all the way," she answered. "I couldn't find cab."Santana looked at the squat red house that had the 'For Sale' sign on it. "Wait, is this it?"

"It's a Victorian," Cynthia said optimistically.

"It's a postage stamp."

Quinn nudged her.

"Sorry," Santana mumbled."But I mean, this doesn't even have any room for us to grow into."

"Can we please just look?"

"Fine." She waved at Cynthia to lead on.

"Okay, so like I said, it's a Victorian, and it's centrally located. I believe it's a 10 minute drive from where you work." She retrieved the key from the lock box, and showed them inside. "It's 3 bedrooms, 1 and a bath, 1700 sqft." Santana opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. "The kitchen was fully renovated five years ago, and the wall between the living room and kitchen was taken down to open up the space."

Santana nodded along as Cynthia talked. Quinn could tell, though, that she had clearly already checked out. The house really was small, and unfortunately it had too much of what they didn't want. There was no room for a library, or even a large office, and the master was just kind of there. That there were hardwoods throughout the whole house wouldn't have been a problem, if there wasn't already so much to dislike. The few redeeming points were that it was so close to work, and to everything else, that the basement was finished, and had been cold finished for a possible third bathroom, and that there was a deck that led to a surprisingly spacious, and private back yard. Really, the back yard was the selling point for the whole house. It even had several old trees like Quinn wanted, and it was fenced in.

"Please just say you'll leave this as a consideration," Quinn pleaded as they said their good-bye's to the realtor for the day.

"It's the same price as the house in East, and it's 900 sq ft. smaller."

"I'm just asking you to leave it as a consideration," Quinn reiterated.

"Okay. Then I will consider it."

They had the time and they were close enough to their respective jobs to have lunch together before they had to be back at work. "Will you be home early?" Quinn questioned as they were saying good-bye.

"Can't. I'll be home pretty late, actually. You know I'm all tied up because of this book launch."

"Oh, right," Quinn pouted. "Okay, well, I'll see you when I get home, then?"

"Yeah, babe, and if I'm not in before you go to bed I'll wake you up, okay?"

Quinn nodded before they kissed good-bye, and as she watched Santana leave she wondered if she had a right to be upset that she wasn't getting to see her wife as much as she wanted.