AN: So after forever, I'm finally updating again - life got really hectic lately! I hope some of you are still reading this and I'm hoping to update more regularly from now on until this story is finished. So here's the latest instalment... enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-nine: Paradise

After an afternoon of swimming, sunbathing, and consuming so much ice cream that she was seriously worrying about fitting into her wedding dress, sunset found Quinn making her way to the beach for the wedding rehearsal, Beth clutching her hand and chattering excitedly. Judy and Paul followed a few steps behind, the newlyweds paying more attention to each other than the stunning vista. A small group were already gathered on the soft golden sand and Quinn's heart leapt as she spotted Santana's petite figure clad in a bright blue tank top and a sinfully short pair of white shorts, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze. Santana's back was towards Quinn and she was flanked by her parents whom she'd picked up from the airport that afternoon. The three were deep in conversation with the other members of the group. Quinn assumed one of them must be the celebrant but there seemed to be at least a couple of others, mostly obscured from view by Santana and her parents. It wasn't until they got closer that Quinn realised who they were. Her heart leapt to see Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine laughing and joking with the Lopez family. She hadn't expected to have any of her friends at the wedding and she couldn't help but be amazed that they'd gone to such lengths to be there for her and Santana.

"Surprise!" Rachel called out cheerfully as Quinn approached the group. After greeting Santana's parents and introducing herself to the celebrant – a tiny, olive skinned lady in her early forties with twinkling dark eyes and a cascade of waist length shining dark hair – Quinn allowed her friends to embroil her into a clumsy group hug, all of them laughing and talking over one another with excitement.

"What are you guys doing here?" Quinn asked as Rachel's arms looped around her neck and the petite brunette gave her an affectionate squeeze.

"You didn't think we'd miss your wedding, did you?" Rachel chuckled. "After all we've been through to get you guys to this point, we had to be here to see it through. Besides, you need a maid of honor."

"It's polite to wait to be asked," huffed Santana, sidling up to Quinn and squeezing herself between the two girls. "And unhand my fiancée, Berry, I'm the only one who gets to hold her that tight." She was grinning as she spoke and she gave Rachel a gentle nudge to let her know she was only teasing, before she turned her sparkling dark eyed gaze to Quinn. "Hey, baby."

"Hi yourself," Quinn murmured, capturing Santana's lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. "You arranged all of this?" she asked, gesturing at all the people she loved, gathered around them on the soft sand.

"Uh huh," Santana replied, looking exceptionally pleased with herself as she slipped her hands around Quinn's waist and tugged her closer. "You happy?"

Quinn nodded as she leaned in to kiss Santana once more. "I love you," she mumbled against the brunette's lips. "So much."

"Um, guys, I think this part's supposed to come after the vows." Kurt's laughing voice cut through Quinn and Santana's shared haze, and Quinn hesitantly pulled back, blushing furiously as she glanced around at the equally amused expressions of her friends and family.

"Sorry," she mumbled, settling for intertwining her fingers with her fiancée's.

"I'm not," Santana pouted, but Quinn ran her free hand soothingly up and down the brunette's arm as she turned expectantly toward the celebrant.

"I guess this is the part where we run through the ceremony?" she asked, feeling a tingle of anticipation in the small of her stomach. In twenty-four short hours, she'd be doing this for real, exchanging vows with her soul mate, in front of all the people she loved. She listened attentively as the celebrant explained the process and then the group headed back to the hotel for dinner.

The Lopezes were exhausted from their flight and they excused themselves immediately after dinner, along with Judy and Paul who carried a drowsy Beth back to their suite to put her to bed. The others headed back down to the beach, and although Quinn would have loved nothing more than to spend the evening curled up against her beautiful fiancée, looking out across the inky blackness of the ocean, Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine had more stamina and they were eager to celebrate Quinn and Santana's last night of freedom, as Kurt inelegantly phrased it, before he and Blaine headed off in the direction of the hotel bar. They returned minutes later with a bottle of champagne and five glasses.

Quinn sat between Santana's legs on the soft sand, still warm from the residual heat of the day and sipped the sparkling wine, feeling the burn of the alcohol at the back of her throat. The music from the hotel bar and dance floor drifted in snatches on the breeze, and Santana's fingertips were discretely stroking the soft skin of Quinn's inner thigh. The conversation was light and jovial, as they reminisced about their shared histories. Eventually, the conversation came around to the wedding itself.

"Who'd have thought you two would be the first ones amongst us to get married?" Kurt said as he edged closer to Blaine and rested his hand on his boyfriend's knee. "Remember our first summer in the loft in New Brunswick? We were all taking bets on how long you guys would last. I think we all lost." He shook his head laughing at the memory. "I've never been happier to lose anything though," he added, smiling at the girls as Santana pressed a soft kiss to Quinn's shoulder.

"It's okay," Quinn replied with a low chuckle. "Sometimes I can't believe we made it either." She groaned as she thought back to the person she'd been when she'd first gotten together with Santana. "God, I was so messed up back then." She craned her neck around to meet the brunette's gaze. "I'm amazed you put up with me through all of the craziness."

Santana merely shrugged and smiled beatifically.

"It's not like Santana was a picnic to live with either," Rachel piped up in defence of Quinn. She giggled at the sudden indignation that clouded her friend's features. "Have you trained her to pick up her wet towels from the bathroom floor yet?"

"Trained me?" Santana huffed, tossing a handful of sand in Rachel's general direction. "It's not too late for us to get a new maid of honor, y'know. Lady Hummel would look great in a dress."

"Thanks Satan," Kurt replied teasingly. "And just when I was thinking of asking you to be best man at Blaine's and my wedding too."

Santana stuck out her tongue and Quinn slapped her lightly on the thigh. "I'm not sure you're mature enough to get married, after all," she joked.

Santana raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Oh really?" she said challengingly. "You don't think I'm mature?" Without warning, she pounced on Quinn, pinning her down on the soft sand and straddling her in one smooth movement, both girls giggling. "You want me to show you how mature I am?" She leant down to plant a soft kiss against Quinn's smirking lips.

"X-rated and mature are not the same thing, Santana," Kurt said in mock exasperation but Santana ignored him as she deepened the kiss, easing her tongue between her fiancée's parted lips.

"Get a room you two," squealed Rachel, as Quinn kissed Santana back with fervour. She wasn't usually one for public displays of affection, but she did enjoy winding up Kurt and Rachel and she trusted Santana enough to know that she wasn't going to take the embrace anywhere too inappropriate.

"Mmm, good idea," Santana, her words muffled by Quinn's hair as she kissed her way along Quinn's jawline. "You wanna go back to our room, baby?"

Rachel let out a theatrical gasp. "You can't!" she insisted, her tone so earnest that Quinn and Santana broke apart to stare at her. "It's the night before your wedding," Rachel exclaimed. "You're not planning on spending it together? It's bad luck."

"Rach," Quinn said with an indulgent sigh. "We don't believe in superstition. Everything'll be fine."

"It will not be fine!" Rachel stood up and brushed sand off her shorts, her eyes wide with horror. "Lucy Quinn Fabray, you will not spend the night before your wedding with your bride to be, as your maid of honor I won't allow it!"

Now it was Quinn's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You won't?" she asked, trying to keep the note of amusement out of her tone, knowing that it would only offend her friend more.

"No," Rachel said softly. "Your wedding is going to be perfect, Quinn. I'm going to make sure of it." Quinn picked up a slight tremble in Rachel's voice, and realized that the petite diva was serious. She thought back to the conversations she'd had with Rachel about her aborted wedding to Finn, and felt a twinge of guilt. She knew Rachel was happy for her, but by rights it should have been Rachel and Finn who'd been married first. They would have been if it weren't for Quinn's car accident, and whilst Quinn still believed that the high school marriage would've been doomed to fail, she also knew how much Rachel had loved Finn. She wondered if Rachel believed that not adhering to superstition at her own wedding had caused the disaster.

"Okay," Quinn agreed softly and Santana groaned audibly.

"You've got to be kidding me?" she said incredulously.

"It's one night, baby," Quinn told her gently, tucking a stray strand of silky dark hair behind her fiancée's ear. "You can have our suite and I'll stay with Rachel."

"You shouldn't have to give up our suite," Santana countered, wriggling backwards so that she was straddling Quinn's knees and pulling her up into a seated position. "I'll stay with the hobbit." She flashed Rachel a petulant glare.

"Be nice," Quinn ordered, giving the brunette a peck on the lips. "And I think it's better if I stay with Rach, I'd like you both to be in one piece tomorrow."

Santana grudgingly agreed, although she remained taciturn as the five of them headed back to the hotel. Kurt and Blaine headed off towards their room and Rachel relented to let Quinn go back to her suite alone with Santana so that she could pick up a few things she'd need for the night, although as she handed over her spare key card, Rachel threatened to come looking for Quinn if the blonde wasn't back in twenty minutes.

In the peace of their room, Quinn started to put together an overnight bag while Santana grouched around like a bear with a sore head.

"This is not the night I'd planned for the eve of our wedding," she grumbled sulkily, flopping down onto the bed and watching Quinn stuff a tank top and sleep shorts into her bag.

"I know, sweetie," Quinn said with a sigh, "but I kind of like that we're keeping with tradition, at least a little." She stopped gathering her things and knelt on the bed beside her fiancée. "Besides, think how much more we'll be looking forward to tomorrow night if we make ourselves wait."

"Screw tomorrow night," Santana growled, tugging Quinn down on top of her and kissing her hotly, "I don't think I'll make it through to the dinner speeches without pouncing on you."

Quinn chuckled as she rested her forehead against the brunette's. "Well, that would make for an interesting reception," she mused thoughtfully, "but I'm not entirely sure my mom would approve, and we might scar Beth for life." She settled her body atop Santana's and captured her lips in a series of languid kisses that soon had them both panting for air.

"You'd better get going," Santana said reluctantly, her gaze falling on the clock on the nightstand. "I'm not sure I can control myself if Berry does come looking for you."

"I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Quinn promised, inwardly hoping that Rachel wasn't going to make a fuss about the fact that they had a day of pampering planned together before their wedding at sunset.

"You'd better," Santana growled, obviously thinking the same thing. "I love you, Q."

"I love you too," Quinn whispered, using the last bit of willpower she possessed to climb off her fiancée when what she really wanted to do was tear her clothes off, "Satan," she added teasingly. Santana threw a pillow at her which Quinn dodged as she hurried into the bathroom to pick up her toiletries.

When she awoke the next morning, it took Quinn a few seconds to remember where she was and why the bed was empty and cold where Santana ordinarily would be. Rachel was singing loudly in the shower, and Quinn groaned audibly, wishing she had a couple of Advil. She and Rachel had stayed awake talking long into the night, and somewhere along the line they'd cleared out about half of the hotel room's mini bar. Based on the enthusiasm of Rachel's singing, either the brunette had a higher alcohol tolerance than Quinn, or Quinn had done the bulk of the drinking. She moaned again and rolled onto her back, pressing a pillow over her face to block out the light and sound. Groggily, she tried to remember the events of the night before after she'd left Santana. She recalled that she and Rachel had continued the evening's reminiscence theme, talking about their time at McKinley High, and she remembered feeling guilty for the way she'd treated Rachel back then. Rachel had been very forgiving about the whole thing and they'd decided to drink to toast their friendship, and then it all became a bit of a blur. Quinn thought she remembered trying to sneak back to Santana in the middle of the night and she had a vague recollection of yelling at the tiny diva when Rachel had caught her, but she wasn't entirely sure that hadn't been a dream.

An incessant dinging somewhere in the vicinity of the nightstand caused her to drag her tousled head out from under the pillow in search of her cell phone. Squinting, because she wasn't yet wearing her contacts, she saw she had three text messages from Santana.

Happy wedding day! read the first message and Quinn sat up with a start, a sudden grin splitting her features. It was her wedding day!

I'm coming to rescue you, read the second message, sent just five minutes ago. Don't tell Berry!

The most recent message that had only just arrived, hence the pinging, was the shortest of the three. I'm outside. Ssh!

Laughing, her headache all but forgotten, Quinn disentangled herself from the sheets and padded barefoot to the door. She opened it cautiously and peered into the hallway. Moments later, hot, soft lips covered her own in a hungry kiss, causing Quinn to stumble back against the doorframe as a lithe, curvaceous body pressed enticingly against her own.

"Good morning to you too," she giggled when Santana finally released her. "I missed you."

"Ssh," Santana whispered, sneaking a look past Quinn into the messy hotel room. "Where's Berry?"

"In the shower," Quinn said nonchalantly, "can't you hear…?" She was silenced by Santana pressing a finger firmly against her lips.

"She'll hear us," Santana insisted dramatically.

"Over the caterwauling and the water running, I doubt it," Quinn replied dismissively as Santana snuck into the room and tossed Quinn's things back into her overnight bag. "What are you doing?"

"I told you, I've come to rescue you." Santana rolled her eyes as she hefted the duffel bag onto her shoulder. "Quick, before she finishes in the shower."

"I can't just leave!" Quinn countered, trying not to laugh.

"Ugh, fine." Santana stomped over to the dresser and located a notepad bearing the hotel's logo and a pen. She quickly scrawled a note. "I have kidnapped Quinn and taken her for breakfast," she said aloud as she wrote. "Satisfied?" She grabbed Quinn's hand and dragged her towards the doorway.

"San, I'm in my pajamas," squealed Quinn, fighting her off with a giggle.

Santana looked her up and down. "Shorts and a tank top, you're fine," she said glibly.

Quinn blushed. "I'm not wearing a bra," she tried but Santana grinned impishly as she pushed her protesting fiancée into the hallway. The brunette reached into Quinn's overnight bag and after a few moments of rummaging she pulled her hand out, dangling a lacy yellow bra from her fingers.

"You want this?" she teased, hopping from foot to foot in delight. "You'll have to catch me first." And with that, she took off down the corridor, Quinn hot on her heels.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Quinn caught up to Santana by the (thankfully empty) elevator, and the brunette got a little overexcited helping Quinn put on her bra as they rode down to the first floor, making Quinn exceptionally glad that they had the elevator to themselves. Breakfast was an elaborate affair of fruit, bagels, and cereals laid out on a private terrace and Quinn sipped her hot coffee gratefully, feeling it ease the pain in her head with every mouthful.

After breakfast, the girls headed to the hotel spa where they were manicured, pedicured and massaged from head to toe. Before either of them knew it, it was time to head off to their respective parents' suites to start getting hair and make-up done for the wedding. Santana walked Quinn to Judy and Paul's suite, but as Quinn lifted her hand to knock, Santana caught it and held it close against her chest.

"I just want one more minute with you alone," she said softly, bringing her free hand up to cup Quinn's cheek tenderly. "The next time I see you, you're going to be walking down the aisle and we're going to get married." She bit her lower lip with anticipation. "I can't wait," she admitted. "You, without a doubt, are the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that, don't you?" To Quinn's surprise, Santana's voice broke and her dark eyes shone with unshed tears. "Last night, when you were saying you didn't know how I'd put up with you, I just kept thinking to myself, she's got it all backwards. I should be the one thanking you for putting up with me."

Quinn smiled wryly as she looped her arms around Santana's neck and drew her in close. "I love you," she said simply. "It's not a question of putting up with you. You make my life better, San, you make me better. I thank God every day for letting us find each other." She paused and rested her forehead against the brunette's, bumping noses as she ghosted her lips over Santana's. "And I'm going to stop there because I'm dangerously close to giving you a sneak preview of my wedding vows right here and now – and if you want to hear them, you're going to have to meet me at the alter in a few hours."

"I'll be the one wearing white," Santana teased, brushing her lips over Quinn's once more before reluctantly releasing her and knocking on the door before she could change her mind.

Paul had made himself scarce before Quinn arrived, but with Judy, Beth, Rachel, Quinn, the hair stylist and the make-up artist, Judy's suite was festively chaotic. Beth was literally bouncing with glee, jumping up and down on the bed until Quinn reoriented her, giving her her iPad to play with before she injured herself or someone else.

Rachel thankfully seemed unruffled about Quinn's abrupt exit that morning and she chatted amiably with the make-up artist as the hair stylist set to work on Quinn, wrapping her hair into hot rollers. Judy sat beside her, trying not to cry and ruin her impeccably applied make-up.

"I can't believe my baby girl is getting married," she said tearfully, squeezing Quinn's hand. "I'm so proud of you, Quinnie."

"I'm proud of you too, Mom," Quinn told her honestly. In truth, she couldn't believe how far her mom had come in her acceptance of Quinn's relationship with Santana. Her mom was a different person than she'd been throughout Quinn's childhood and adolescence, so much so that Quinn could barely reconcile the woman who stood beaming at her affectionately with the highly strung and distant Stepford-wife she used to be. As she looked at her mom's reflection in the mirror, Quinn realized for the first time that her mom was finally free to be who she chose to be – no longer inhibited by the pressure of having to present an image of the perfect wife and mother. Her mom had spent years being just as trapped and constrained as Quinn herself. Quite unexpectedly, she felt her eyes fill with tears and her mom tutted gently.

"Now Quinnie," she murmured, dabbing Quinn's lashes with a lacy handkerchief before the tears could fall, "you're going to ruin your make up if you cry, and you look so beautiful right now. You don't want mascara streaks down your cheeks when you walk down the aisle to your bride, do you?"

"Why are you crying, Mama?" Beth asked, looking up from the iPad with a furrowed brow.

Quinn gave her a watery smile. "Because I'm happy," she said simply.

Beth shook her head and sighed dramatically. "That's silly," she admonished, her blonde curls bouncing. "You shouldn't cry when you're happy, that's just weird."

The assorted adults all chuckled at the little girl's forthrightness and Beth pouted slightly, unsure whether or not they were laughing at her. Rachel diffused the tension by scooping up the five year old and heading into the bathroom to get her dressed.

An hour later, most of the chaos had abated – the hairstylist and make-up artist had left and Judy had taken Beth down to the lobby to give Quinn a chance to collect her thoughts before the ceremony. Only Rachel remained to help Quinn put the finishing touches to her look, smoothing out the floaty layers of chiffon that made up the skirt, and fussing over Quinn's hair, making sure that everything was perfect before she'd allow Quinn to look in the mirror. Given the location of the ceremony, Quinn had decided on minimal make-up and accessories – she wore no jewellery except her engagement ring, and her hair cascaded in long, loose curls over her shoulders. A small amount of gold shadow brought out the flecks of amber in Quinn's eyes, and a soft pink blush accentuated her cheekbones. Her lip gloss contained the merest hint of shimmer, and her nails were a classic French manicure. Quinn had opted for bare feet, wanting to feel the heat from the sand between her toes as she said her wedding vows.

"You're sure it's not too natural?" she asked Rachel anxiously as the brunette took a step back and studied her appraisingly.

"See for yourself," Rachel replied enigmatically, placing her hands on Quinn's shoulders and turning her around to face the full length mirror. Quinn swallowed hard before lifting her gaze to look at her reflection and she was stunned by what she saw. The pure white of the gown brought out the natural pink of her pale skin which glowed in the late afternoon sunlight. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with anticipation. "You really are the prettiest girl I've ever known, Quinn," said Rachel softly, squeezing her friend's hands as she pressed the bouquet of white wildflowers into Quinn's grasp. "You look lovely. Are you ready to get married?"

Quinn took a deep breath as the butterflies in her stomach all seemed to take flight at the same time. Was she ready? So much had happened in the past few years that her head spun as her memory seemed to review her entire relationship with Santana on fast forward. Every moment, from their initial fling, their first break up, their subsequent fresh start, to coming out to her mom, Santana's proposal, and all the drama with Beth and Shelby flashed in front of her eyes until she ended up at the present moment, standing in a wedding dress in front of a mirror with one of her closest friends grinning at her expectantly. She swallowed hard as her eyes met Rachel's, her heart feeling like it was about to explode out of her chest as she nodded firmly.

"I am," she said softly.

"Okay then," Rachel replied with a low chuckle. "Let's go find your bride."

They made their way through the hotel corridors, across the lobby and out across the lawn in the direction of the beach. Neither girl spoke, each lost in her own thoughts. The sun was just beginning to set, turning the ocean into a molten, rippling sea of gold. The air was fragrant with the scent of the water and tropical flowers and a gentle breeze ruffled Quinn's hair as her toes sank into the soft, warm sand.

Just as with the rehearsal, a small group was gathered down by the water, recorded piano music playing softly, carrying in waves on the breeze to reach Quinn's ears. She saw Beth dancing excitedly around Judy and Paul, Blaine and Kurt with their arms casually around each other's waists, and Santana's parents deep in conversation with the celebrant. She couldn't help but grin at the sight of so many people she loved all in one place, but there was only one person she wanted to see in that moment. Then Santana's father stepped to one side and the brunette was suddenly visible. Quinn stopped dead as she took in the vision that was Santana. The brunette's simple strapless dress was white and figure hugging, falling to just below the knee. Her long hair was loose and straight, flowing down her back in a shiny cascade, held back from her face by diamond hair grips. Her lips and nails were painted a deep vibrant red, the splash of color beautiful against her tanned skin. Instead of a bouquet she held in her hand a single red rose. She was stunning. Quinn couldn't think of another way to describe it. Then her eyes met Santana's and it was like the rest of the world melted away. This was the moment they'd both been waiting for. They were about to be joined forever.

The music changed – the piano chords gave way to a string quartet playing Pachelbel's Canon – Quinn's favorite piece of music. The crowd parted and Rachel skipped lightly across the sand to join Kurt and Blaine.

Quinn could feel all eyes on her as she walked slowly towards her waiting fiancée, but she only had eyes for Santana. Flaming torches adorned her route as she willed her knees not to buckle, emotion threatening to overwhelm her, even as she remembered her mom telling her not to cry. As the last notes of the song rang out, Quinn reached her destination and exhaled a long breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

Santana beamed at her as she reached for her hand. "You look beautiful, Q," she murmured, so softly that no one else could hear. Quinn couldn't resist bringing up her free hand to brush against the satiny soft skin of Santana's cheek.

"So do you," she whispered hoarsely. "So beautiful. I love you." Despite her resolve, a stray tear broke ranks and tumbled from her lashes down her cheek but she merely giggled and brushed it away. Reluctantly she pulled her gaze from her stunning fiancée, knowing that she would have the rest of her life to look at the brunette – to commit every freckle, every curve, every line to memory.

The celebrant smiled warmly as she swept her eyes over the small crowd before coming to rest on the two beaming women standing before her. "So," she asked congenially, "are you ready to begin?"