A/N: Written for the CQ jealously prompt. Not very typical.
'You bought pieces of a fucking car?' She had asked him. Of course it may have seemed ridiculous to her, but Quinn is positive that he will have this thing built by the spring so they can all take a trip down the coast. 'Better than a bomb I guess,' she had added. Quinn narrowed his eyes at her, but he knew she'd be happy when it was done.
He can't believe he'd never though to do this before. But now he had all the free time in the world, especially when Carrie was at work all day. While Franny napped he'd be as quiet as he possibly could carefully assembling each piece, sure to do it right. He'd wait to do the annoying stuff while they were gone; use the metal saw, pound out the frame, use the power drill. But mostly he'd wait because he needed to hear them. He didn't care loud they were as long as he knew they were safe.
It's Sunday night and Carrie's mad he's out there, but he's determined to get it done in the next three weeks. She's mostly mad because she's the one stuck frosting the Easter bunny cookies that Franny wanted so badly. The ones that Quinn bought for her after she threw a temper tantrum in the grocery store. Even after Carrie had warned him over and over not to take her shopping if she didn't have a nap.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Carrie screams from the kitchen, "No! No!"
Quinn jerks his head so quickly, he smacks it right on the hood. He holds the point of impact tight retreating to her instantly. The door swings open, Quinn in a panic.
"Carrie what's wrong!?"
"Look!" She points out at the snowfall. "I didn't even notice. There's like 3 inches of snow already!"
He laughs hard. "Are you kidding me I just whacked my head over this?"
"It's not funny Quinn! How am I suppose to get to work tomorrow!?"
He holds up his finger and walks back to the garage.
"Or not!"
"We have a shovel you know," he says when he returns.
"Really? I just thought the neighbors did it."
He raises his eyebrows.
"I'm going out."
She holds up her arms to protest.
"Oh no. I don't think so Quinn. You bought these cookies, you're frosting them! I'll go do it," she rips the shovel out of his arms.
"Good luck," he smiles.
It's not the cute fluffy snow, it's the wet heavy crap that everyone hates. Quinn points to his and Franny's cookies through the window mocking her as he watches her struggle.
After 20 minutes he can't bare to watch this go on any longer. He bundles up Franny and heads outside.
"Wow this sucks!" She huffs having a particularly large amount of snow in her shovel.
"Carrie I got it. I'll trade you Franny for the shovel."
"No," she's still breathing heavily, "I'm almost done."
He cocks his head inspecting her work.
"Carrie you've only gotten around your own car."
She doesn't stop.
"We're done with the cookies," he says.
"Here's the shovel. I'll take her."
"Ha! I got you!" He says after the exchange. "We are in fact not done with those cookies."
"Fine," she pouts. "We're going to watch you through the window, see how you like it!"
Franny takes off to the kitchen as soon as Carrie strips off her winter gear. Her stuff is still on when Quinn walks in.
"How the hell did you get that done so fast?"
He shrugs.
"You're hired," she teases.
"Depends on the pay."
"How about you get a free cookie decorating class?"
He rocks his head back and fourth, pretending to decide.
"Actually, I just came in to tell you that I'm going to get some rock salt," he kisses her. "I'll be back."
She looks outside when they're finally done to see it has gotten worse. The street isn't even visible at this point.
Quinn's finally back, laying down the rock salt. Then shoveling, then throwing some more salt again. It's relentless. She puts Franny to sleep, reads her a story, kisses her goodnight and hopes that he'll be in by the time she comes back downstairs. He's not.
"Excuse me sir, but can you get your cute little ass in here?" She shouts out the window.
"I'm not done Carrie. You need to be able to get out of here tomorrow."
"Quinn it's freezing. Come on."
"I'll just be a minute."
She pours a glass of wine and actually takes a look outside to appreciate the snow. Most winters she had spent in the Middle East, she hadn't really remembered seeing snow like this since she was a kid.
He's finally comes in wincing in pain.
"Fuck my hands!"
"Jesus Quinn. You ever hear of gloves?"
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! They hurt." He shakes them violently, adjusting them to the warmth.
"Come here," she leads him to the sink.
"I'm not putting my hands under hot water!"
"Stop being a baby! I'm not the dummy who didn't wear gloves," she reminds him.
He continues to flinch while they're submerged, not hiding the fact that he's in agony. Eventually it goes away.
"Better?" She asks.
"Much," he smiles.
"You want a cookie?" She says as he drifts away from her, heading back towards the garage.
"Or are you going to work on your car?"
"I though you were going to bed? It's late," he says just barely cracking open the door.
"Quinn I'm not going to work tomorrow. Have you seen it out there?"
He turns around immediately, putting his hands around her waist.
"You're not going? You know how hard I worked out there today," he hisses.
"Your punishment for hanging out in that garage all morning. All winter actually."
"Oh so you're jealous huh? Jealous of a car are we?"
"No," she lies. "I just wanted. Well-"
"You are then."
"Damn it Quinn. Stop being an ass."
He grins after purposefully irritating her about it. "Funny you say that," he moves his hand to her ass, teasing her.
"I thought you were going out to work on your car?" She reminds him, not giving in.
"I was only going to try to start it. I wanted to show it to you. Do you want to come see it?"
"What? I thought you said it wasn't done?"
"It's not, but the interior is."