The following day was spent mostly in bed. One, because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Two, they were exhausted (see: One).

Somewhere, between the caresses and kisses, the question came up.

"You wanna get married?"

"I thought we already had this conversation. And I asked you first."

"I mean, like, now."

"Do they do naked weddings in Vegas?"

"Probably. But I didn't mean with this second. I just meant while we're here."

"I can't have a wedding without my dads."

"What if we have two?"

"Typical Fabray, wanting everything."

"No, that's you, Berry."

"Hey, what're we going to do about names?"

"Can we decide about the wedding, first?"

"Oh, right."

Ultimately, they decided they wanted a small Vegas ceremony, just for them, and they'd let Rachel's dads have a heyday planning something bigger and formal and fabulous. Quinn had been holding onto the fact that Finn was bringing Madison out for Rachel's show and Puck would be meeting up with them. Now that they were talking marriage plans, it seemed like a good time to bring it up.

"They'll all be here?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise for your big show."

"And I went and ruined it with my silly proposal."


"Okay, then, I take it back."

"Since you didn't even get me a ring, it's like it never happened, anyway."

"I always thought you were kind of a materialistic bitch."

"What does it say about me that I'm turned on, right now?"

"It means I'm definitely marrying the right girl."

It was another two hours before they traded the bed for the shower. This time, there was no debate about showering together.

They were in the stall for less than three minutes before Quinn had Rachel pressed up against the tile, lips pressed to her neck, hand between her legs.

"Quinn…" the brunette whined.


"If you… keep doing that… I don't think I can hold myself up."

"Good thing I'm here, then."

They managed to stay upright through the first round, but somewhere between the second and third, they ended up on the shower floor. It was an expensive suite in an upscale hotel, so at least they knew it was clean.

"Babe, we're wasting water," Quinn panted.

"You're the one who can't keep your hands to yourself."

"Sorry, I got engaged last night. I'm kind of excited."

"I know you're excited. That's how we ended up on the floor."

Madison and Finn weren't due in until the next morning, so Quinn and Rachel spent the day checking out the wedding chapels, looking for the right package. They weren't sure if they wanted something totally silly and fun or something somewhat serious.

Somewhere between the seventh and ninth chapel (Quinn had lost count and was getting hungry), Rachel squealed.

The blonde had been staring at the wall of photos featuring the latest batch of wedded couples and wasn't paying attention to the book of wedding packages that Rachel had been flipping through. "What?"

"Quinn. Look." The brunette tapped the page in front of her.

"At wh— Oh my god, are you serious? Really?" Quinn looked over at the man behind the counter. "This one. Can we book it for tomorrow?"

The guy casually glanced at the selection. "Sure. But we have other stuff, too. Like, fancier."

Rachel shook her head. "No. We want that one."

"Yeah, okay." He pushed his glasses up and turned to the computer. "What time?"

Quinn glanced at Rachel. "Oh, um… well, the boys and Maddy are due in at nine, and then they'll want to check in."

"And we still have to tell them."

"Right. We have to tell them. Maybe over lunch?"

"That's probably good, yeah. But then I have a rehearsal for the show at two."

"When's that done?"

"No later than four. It's just a tech rehearsal."

"So… we could do this at six? Then go to dinner?"

"Sounds good to me."

"You heard the lady," Rachel said to the man. "We'd like to have our wedding at six."

He nodded. "It's good that you're doing it on the thirteenth. We still had some openings. The fourteenth is booked solid. You'll need to provide your own rings and dresses, or whatever you choose to wear, the rest will be provided."

Quinn nudged Rachel with her elbow. "I guess that means we have some shopping to do."

"Should we shop together?"

The blonde shook her head. "Let's keep it a surprise."

"Okay, but we have to stay consistent with the theme."

"Agreed. Wanna shake on it?" Quinn held her hand out to Rachel, who took in then pulled her in for a kiss.

"Thanks for all your help," Rachel said to the chapel employee. "See you tomorrow!"

Once the wedding plans were in place, the women split up to shop for rings and wedding apparel. Several hours later, they were both lying on the hotel bed, purchases hidden away from each other.

"Planning a wedding is exhausting," Quinn sighed, reaching for her fiancée.

"Actually, the planning part was easy." Rachel yawned. "It was the walking around through ten miles of casino malls that wore me out."

"I got lost in one and couldn't get out for, like, twenty minutes."

"Aw, my poor directionally challenged baby."

"I'm not directionally challenged! They're designed to keep you lost so you just give up and spend money."

"How much did you spend in there?"

"Too much." Quinn snuggled into Rachel. "I'm sleepy. You won't hold it against me if I don't get into your pants tonight, will you?"

"I think that balcony sex left me with a good reserve. So, you're fine."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

The next morning, they woke up in time to pick up Finn and Madison from the airport. Puck had left a couple hours ago to drive from California and would be due in around eleven.


Quinn heard the voice before she spotted her daughter barreling toward her in the baggage claim. "Hey, kiddo," she said, leaning down to pull her into a hug.

"Where's Rachel?" Madison asked, peeking out around her mother's embrace.

"She was right…" Quinn glanced around. Rachel was about fifteen feet away, signing autographs for a group of tourists. "There she is," she said with a laugh.

Finn wasn't far behind Madison, but he hadn't been able to maneuver through the crowds the same way the girl's tiny body had. "Hey, Quinn."

"Hey." The blonde grabbed him in a hug.

Eventually, they pulled Rachel away from her fans (it was really just one group traveling together from Missouri) and headed back to the hotel. Puck showed up more or less on time and the group met for lunch at the Treasure Island.

"Hey, mom, can I go back for dessert, yet?" Madison asked.

"Hold on a second, Maddy. We kind of have something to talk about." Quinn addressed the whole table. "Rachel and I have some news."

"Holy shit, you're pregnant," Puck said through a mouthful of macaroni salad.

"Really?" Rachel asked, staring at him.

Finn grinned at the prospect, about to congratulate them, but then his brow wrinkled up when he quickly realized that wasn't really possible. Unless they were trying to get pregnant, somehow. But just them… that couldn't happen. Right?

"Are you, Mom?"

"No, I'm not pregnant. Rachel is not pregnant." She looked at the brunette. "Babe? You wanna…"

"So, the other night, I kind of… asked Quinn to marry me."

"And I said yes."

"YES!" Madison was suddenly standing on her chair. "MY MOM IS GETTING MARRIED TO ELPHABA!"

Several people turned to look at the girl who was shouting across the restaurant. A few of them applauded.

"Madison Fabray, sit your butt in that chair, right now." Quinn's tone was all mom. It was also part Cheerio Captain.

Madison sat down, quickly, but she was grinning. "Rachel, this means you're moving in, right? Or we're moving to New York? Oh my gosh, we're moving to New York!"

Quinn shook her head, amused at her daughter. "Sweetie, calm down."

"She's just excited, babe." Rachel took Quinn's hand. "I mean, you were really excited about it all yesterday morning. And the night be—" There was a small kick under the table. "So, we're getting married."

"Awesome," Finn said. "When? Summer weddings are supposed to be nice and stuff."

"Today." Both women said it at the same time.

"Today?" Puck nearly choked on his prime rib. "Is Elvis doing the ceremony?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, that would be silly."

Now Puck was offended. "Elvis is not silly. He's the King."

"Well, it's not Elvis," Rachel replied.

After lunch (and a bit more debate/lecture from Puck about the greatness of Mr. Presley), they did a bit of sightseeing until Rachel had to leave for her rehearsal. Before she headed off, Quinn pulled her aside.

"So, I'll see you at six?" They'd agreed that Quinn would get ready in the room the boys were sharing, just to maintain some semblance of tradition.

"Wouldn't miss it, babe." Rachel leaned in for a kiss from her fiancee.

Quinn gave her a wink and an impromptu smack on the ass once the brunette had turned to walk away.

Getting Puck and Finn to participate in the actual wedding had been difficult for the first five minutes. As soon as they found out what they were supposed to wear, both of them immediately warmed up to the idea.

And this is how Quinn found herself standing in the chapel lobby, watching the two men punch each other in the chest. "Guys, it's not real armor, it's a costume. A costume that we left a deposit on."

Finn pulled off his Stormtrooper helmet. "This stuff is authentic." He threw another light punch at Puck's chest, but it was deflected by the white breastplate.

"We should have gotten you the Wookie outfit," Quinn sighed.

"That would have been awesome!" came Puck's muffled reply from inside his helmet.

"Miss Fabray?" The chapel clerk peeked out of the doors that led to the chapel. "We're ready for you."

Finn shoved the helmet back on his head, giving it a knock once it was fully seated. He and Puck positioned themselves on either side of Quinn and as the doors opened, they escorted her into the chapel.

At the end of the aisle, Rachel waited next to the minister (Jedi?) and behind Rachel was Madison, in her own pint sized Jedi robe, brandishing a lightsaber (green, of course).

Quinn's dress was simple and white, her hair in a braid that wrapped from one side to the other. Rachel's outfit, while black and white, was less traditional, though very suited for this particular ceremony. Her hair was down around her face and draped across her shoulders. She wore a white long sleeved collared shirt under a black vest and a short black skirt, very similar in length to the ones she wore in high school. On her feet were a pair of black, flat soled boots that hit her around mid calf.

The ceremony itself only took about ten minutes and when it was over, they blasted the familiar John Williams theme through the chapel speakers. Rachel looked down at their hands, clasped together, then over at the small Jedi behind her, then to the two troopers (who were still testing the limits of the molded plastic), then back at the woman who was now her wife. "My dads are going to die when they see these pictures."

"They should be happy. It's way better than a lot of lesbian weddings I've seen."

"Touche, Mrs. Fabray-Berry."

"Hey, Mrs. Berry-Fabray, what do you say we get the troopers here to entertain the Ewok for a while, and you can teach me about the Force."

"Don't let her hear you call her that."

"Well, she's already too tall to be Yoda."

"She'd probably rather be Anakin, anyway."

"Don't give her ideas."

That night, while Puck and Finn took Madison to the bowling alley under the Excaliber, the newlyweds tumbled into bed and exhausted themselves (along with every science fiction related pun they could think of).

After something like the fifth or seventh round, Rachel collapsed against the pillows and pulled Quinn against her. "I hope you're keeping a list of everything you're doing, because we have to repeat this after the second wedding."

"Maybe we should have just recorded it."

"Quinn! I've told you before, I cannot risk a sex tape surfacing right now. We have to wait until my career needs a boost."

"Right, sorry." The blonde kissed the span of skin below Rachel's collarbone. "It's important to be practical."

"It is. Very." The singer tugged her wife upward for a proper kiss. "I love you."

A small smirk appeared on Quinn's face. "I know."

"That's my line!"

"Sorry, you married me, so half of everything you have is mine, now."

"You've been planning this since day one, haven't you."

"Also, you have to bake me cookies, whenever I want them."

"Fine, but you have to read me the recipe."

"That's fair."


"Every time?"


"Good thing you're rich, so we can regularly afford a babysitter."

"We can bake while she's at school."

"Some of us have jobs, superstar."

"And here I thought you married me so I could be your Sugar Mama."

"Hey, that's a really good idea."


"Yeah, Rach?"

"We talk too much."

"Yeah, we d—"