Seeing You Again for the First Time: My Kind of Town—Chapter 29

Summary: Santana and Quinn visit Chicago for Pride and a little reunion.

Pairing: Quinn/Santana

Rating: PG (for this chapter)

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, yada, yada, yada.

Author's Note: Happy Pride, everyone! I tossed in The Baton reference simply for Pride month.

The two women were wrapped in each other's arms, tangled in luxurious, white sheets. "Distracting me with sex, Q?" Santana teased. "Don't think I forgot about the closet. Though, I do admire your tactics."

Quinn chuckled and kissed the soft skin of Santana's upper chest before cuddling deeper; she couldn't hide the satisfied grin on her face. "Well, you're just that easy, I suppose." This earned her a playful swat to the ass. Santana just laughed and hugged her girlfriend closer. "I'll make room for your stuff," Quinn added softly. Santana kissed the top of her head in gratitude. "Just don't hog all of the space in the bathroom."

Santana giggled. "Deal." They both sighed and enjoyed the warmth of each other; both closed their eyes and drifted off in thought.

Quinn was the first to break the silence. She inhaled and then spoke softly, "Can I ask you something?" She felt Santana nod. "What was with the whole closet thing in the first place? I mean, it sounded a bit…"

"Petty and ridiculous?" Santana finished for her.

"Well, I was going to say…"

"Don't bother sugar-coating it. It was petty and stupid. I'm sorry for blowing up at you."

"Was it really about the closet?" Quinn asked quietly.

Santana sighed. "No, it wasn't." She sat up a bit, steeling herself for what she wanted to say. "Everything has been going so well with us…like almost too well. And, this trip I saw as like a test, y'know? Quinn nodded and gave Santana a small hug with the around arm that was wrapped around her waist. "I guess I'm just waiting for something to blow up in my face, for something to go wrong with us. Nothing has ever been this good. I'm afraid of losing it. I guess I freaked out and picked some fight over nothing."

There was a brief moment of silence…of Santana waiting for Quinn to respond.

"I understand…I think. It seems like self-sabotage," Quinn said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, it is. I'm a master at that. I just don't want to do it with you, but I guess I sort of did earlier." She felt Quinn nod again. Santana tilted Quinn's head up with her fingers. "Promise me something?" she began, looking deeply into Quinn's soulful eyes.

"Sure," Quinn responded, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Call me on that shit if I do it again?"

Quinn graced Santana with a wide, bright smile. "It would be my pleasure," she affirmed.

Santana rolled her eyes and grinned. "You don't have to sound too emphatic about it." Quinn giggled and snuggled closer. They settled back into each other.

After a few moments, Quinn added, "As long as you call me out when I withdraw. I have a tendency to do that when things get too real."

"Well, you haven't done it yet, as far as I can tell," Santana replied. "And yeah, I'll call you on your shit, too."

"Deal," Quinn said, a relieved smile evident in her voice. Silence enveloped them again until they were startled by a low rumbling noise…from the general vicinity of Santana's stomach.

Santana laughed softly. "I'm starving."

"Clearly," Quinn quipped. And with that, they got ready for their first day in Chicago.


"I can't believe how good that was," Quinn nearly moaned as she tossed the wrapper from her Italian beef sandwich in a nearby trashcan.

"I know. It was ridiculous," Santana agreed after taking a swig from her bottle of water. "I'm kinda glad that I don't live here; I'd be huge in days if I lived anywhere near a Portillo's."

"Me too," Quinn concurred as she shook her head at herself.

The afternoon had been pleasant; they had walked a few blocks to Portillo's to try the famous Italian beef and were now heading back to Michigan Avenue to do a little shopping. "It's not called the Magnificent Mile for nothing," Quinn reminded Santana as she pulled her by the hand into 900 North.

The wandered through J Crew, Bloomingdale's, small boutiques until they arrived at William-Sonoma in which Santana got distracted. Quinn patiently noted that it was a chain, and there was a huge store in New York. Santana apparently didn't care; she was too busy drooling over a set of All-Clad pans.

Santana clearly did her research because they avoided the tourist trap aka Water Tower Place and instead channeled their shopping energy at the more low key parts of the Mag Mile. Despite Santana routinely pointing out that "We have this in New York" every time they entered a shop, Quinn browsed Marc Jacobs, Ralph Lauren, Kate Spade, Burberry, Judith Ripka, Armani, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, Chanel, Hermés et al.

As Quinn eyed a paired a dangerous looking heels in Jimmy Choo, Santana wrapped her arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. "Babe, any chance of, I don't know, stopping soon?" Santana asked quietly, trying to sound as loving as possible.

Quinn smiled at this, knowing that Santana was reaching her breaking point. She turned in Santana's arms and snaked her arms around her girlfriend's neck, pulling her closer. "How about one more store and then we head back to our room?" Quinn said in that low register that made Santana's knees buckle. With a suggestive and slow raise of an eyebrow, Quinn got an enthusiastic nod and kiss from Santana.

They walked nearly in silence down a stretch of Michigan Avenue, hand in hand, and Santana's curiosity was growing by the second. Clearly, Quinn had done her research, too, because she seemed like a woman on a mission. A few blocks south of Oak Street, Quinn opened the door to a small shop and ushered Santana inside. An almost predatory grin spread across Santana's face as she looked around her. Quinn leaned in and whispered, "I hope this is okay."

Santana laughed softly. "La Perla? Are you kidding? This is more than okay."

"I thought so," Quinn replied with a smirk on her face. She could see Santana's mind racing as her eyes swept across the small boutique. "How about this: we each pick something out and surprise each other at some point on the trip?"

Santana turned fully to face her girlfriend. "Deal." The smile that accompanied her answer was nothing short of brilliant.

The two women parted and wandered through the small boutique. Within minutes, though, Santana pulled the saleswoman to the back of the store, and Quinn simply looked on with excited anticipation—Santana seemed to have some idea about what she wanted. Quinn wasn't so sure yet. She had already revealed her garter and matching underwear set to Santana; she smiled at the memory of that evening. Now, she wanted something entirely different. So, Quinn kept searching eventually finding something that she knew Santana would love.

Both women left the store with bags in hand and headed back to the hotel. As they walked, both of them kept glancing over to the other's bag, their interest rapidly growing. "So what's the plan for the rest of the night?" Quinn asked casually.

"Dinner," Santana responded with a nod of her head.

Quinn could only smile again. "Not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope" was Santana's one word answer, again. She grinned at Quinn as they made their way through the hotel lobby. Quinn just shook her head and resigned herself to being surprised.


They waited in front of the hotel while the bellman hailed a cab. "Did I mention how amazing you look?" Santana whispered to Quinn as she let her eyes roam over Quinn's body in the Ralph Lauren Leighna Silk Georgette dress. The antique pink color matched her skin perfectly, and the loose draping moved effortlessly when Quinn walked. Santana was entranced.

The blush rose up her neck, and she shook her head, not believing how attentive and sweet her girlfriend was being. Quinn tilted her head towards Santana and replied, "Twice." She smiled. "But, I'm not complaining." She paused momentarily to sweep her eyes over Santana. "You look stunning."

Santana could feel the heat in her cheeks, and this only grew more intense as she watched Quinn lean back slightly and her eyes drop immediately to Santana's ass that was hugged perfectly in the black L'Wren Scott Summer Sheath dress. Santana swore that she heard Quinn hum in approval before returning her gaze forward. Quinn glanced at the woman next to her, who gave her an inquisitive eyebrow raise.

"What?" Quinn asked with a feigned look of innocence.

"Look all you want," Santana husked. The cab appeared at that moment, and Santana gestured for Quinn to go ahead while she took the opportunity to admire Quinn's legs in the dress. The smirk that spread across her face remained for the short cab ride to the restaurant.

When they turned on to Clark Street, Quinn felt Santana shift anxiously next to her. She furrowed her brows, confused. And, then she looked up as the cab slowed in front of a small storefront.

"Is this where we're eating?" Quinn asked as she looked at the green awning that read "The Baton."

"No, across the street," Santana said with excitement as she quickly paid the cab driver. Quinn followed Santana out of the cab. Their hands found each other as they walked across the street. Once again, Quinn eyed Santana with growing curiosity. Santana seemed…giddy. Quinn glanced up and saw the sign: Frontera Grill. She could have sworn she saw Santana actually skip passed through the entryway and passed, what appeared to be, the entrance Frontera to the host station. She shook her head and smiled. Quinn caught the word "Topolobampo" and shrugged.

Santana checked them in, and the hostess guided to them a table. When they turned the small corner, they were greeted by two beaming smiles. "Oh my god!" Quinn exclaimed. "Mike and Tina!"