"I made plans for us for today," Quinn said, as they sat in Artie's living room. "Or…I made plans if you decide you want to go along with them."

Artie grinned. "I thought we weren't making plans?" he asked.

She giggled. "Well, I decided that wasn't the best idea. I think we should go buy some plants and stuff, and plant them in my backyard!"

"Do you know about plants?" he asked, shifting. "Because I don't really know that much."

"Um…no," she said. "And what do you mean you don't know that much? You know everything. You're like…my personal Google!"

Artie smirked. "I know a bit. And you know that flattery will get you everything."

She giggled again.

He went on. "And, you know…if you want to Google me…feel free to do that whenever you want. I'm an incredibly easy target on the couch right here."

"I knew that was going to come up," she said. "But for now…why don't we save our googling for later, and get going? Do you think we can fit plants and stuff in my car? Yours?"

"How much stuff are you planning on buying?" he asked. "We could probably fit plants in yours or mine. But if you need to get dirt and stuff, that plus my chair probably isn't going to work. You could leave me here?"

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "I am not leaving you here. We're going to do it TOGETHER, and I need you to help me pick stuff out. Plus…it wouldn't be fun if you weren't there."

He smiled. "Well, if you can drive the van, I could ask Mom if we can borrow it. I think she's just planning on hanging out here today with Linds. We could offer to leave her your car in case she needs to go anywhere?"

Quinn nodded. "That would be fine. And I can drive the van…I learned to drive in one."

"Excellent," he said. "But if we're going to do that…I should probably get changed. These pants can NOT rock dirt."

"Yeah, you might want to put on something darker," Quinn said, grinning. "And maybe a shirt that's not light-coloured?"

"I think I have something suitable," he said, preparing to transfer back to his chair. "Just let me go ask Mom about the van, then I'll get ready. That's going to take a bit, but I'll be as fast as possible. Once Linds hears you're here, she'll come entertain you, I'm sure."

"Ok," she said. "Take your time. I'm good."

After Artie left Quinn in the living room, he headed down the hallway to the kitchen, where Beth and Lindsay were baking cookies.

"Mom, can Q and I borrow the van?" he asked. "She wants to get a bunch of plants and stuff so we can plant them in her backyard, and I don't think there's going to be enough space in either of ours with both of us and my chair…especially if she wants to get dirt and stuff."

Beth turned around, about to say something to her son, when Lindsay jumped off the stool she was standing on.

"IS QUINN HERE? Where is she?" she asked.

Artie grinned. "She's in the living room," he said. "Why don't you go say hi?"

He hadn't even finished his sentence, when she tore out of the kitchen.

"So…about the van," Artie said to his mother. "Can we? Quinn can drive it…she learned to drive in a van. And we'll leave you her car in case you need to go anywhere."

Beth wiped her hands on the towel she was holding. "Sure, I don't see a problem with that," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table so she was eye to eye with her son. "Are you going to plant stuff today, too?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure. All I know is that she wants to get plants, and she thinks I know about plants."

Beth smiled. "Well, you do know about plants," she said. "How many years have we been doing the garden together?"

Artie grinned. "I know. But Quinn doesn't know that. I don't want it to seem like I think I know everything."

"My son. Always so modest," Beth said, grinning at him. "Are you planting stuff in the ground?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Well, if you are, make sure you-"

"I know," he cut in. "Be careful, sit on something if I'm going to be on the ground, change position frequently, watch for sharp things. The usual. I kind of hope we're not…I don't want Q to see how awkward it is for me to get down there…and then to get back up," he finished, quietly. "I don't know if she realizes what's involved with that."

Beth smiled softly at her son, placing a hand on his arm. "Sweetie, it'll be fine," she said. "And if you're not comfortable enough around her for that, then don't worry about it, ok?"

"It's not that I'm not comfortable around her," he said. "I just…I don't know. I'd really prefer it if people don't have to see that," he finished. "But you're right, it'll be fine."

Beth's smile widened. "You'd better go get read then," she said. "I'm assuming you're going to change?"

He grinned, nodding. "Yeah…these clothes aren't really garden-appropriate. I guess I'd better do that. Thanks, Mom."

As Beth watched her son make his way out of the kitchen and head towards his bedroom, she wondered if she should have talked to him a bit more. Maybe she should have told him that he needed to start talking about things like that with Quinn.

Or maybe she needed to trust that he would take care of that when he felt the time was right.

"Ready?" Quinn asked, as Artie wheeled into the living room, outfitted in dark pants and a royal blue sweater.

He nodded. "I am," he said. "Where's Linds?"

Quinn laughed. "She just went back to the kitchen. Something about the cookies not being able to bake without her there."

Artie grinned. "Yeah. She thinks they cookies turn out better when she's there," he said. "I don't know where she got that idea."

Quinn smirked. "Well, it's totally something I can see her brother saying too," she said. "So I can see where she gets it from."

Artie gasped. "Are you kidding me, woman? The A-man does NOT 'think' the cookies turn out better when he's in the kitchen. The A-man KNOWS this is fact, yo!"

Laughing, Quinn stood up. "Right…A-man. Let's get this show on the road."

Grinning, Artie followed her out the door to the garage, where the van was waiting for them.

"Quinn, I think we have too many plants," Artie said, following her down the neat rows of the greenhouse. He was thankful for the fact that the place she chose had concrete floors, rather than the soft or uneven flooring he knew was a common fixture in places that sold plants.

"That's ok," she said. "All of this stuff is on sale! And if we have too many, we can plant them at your house, right? Your mom wouldn't mind, would she?"

He shook his head. "No, of course she wouldn't mind."

"Well then," she said, grabbing another package of mixed petunias and adding them to the cart she was pushing. "Do you think we should get some dirt, just in case? I know my mom has pots in the shed, so we could plant some stuff in those, too," she said. "And we still have the bottom part of the cart, so we could stack some dirt there."

He nodded. "That might be a good idea," he said. "I like stuff in pots. Way easier to grow stuff that way."

"Yeah, while we're on the topic of you knowing stuff like that," she said. "If you're going to pretend you don't know about plants, probably NOT the best move to begin describing the different types of dahlias and why they are or aren't something we should buy."

He looked away, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Well," he muttered, "I didn't want you to think I think I know everything."

She giggled. "I don't think that. I KNOW that, yo!"

"I can't argue with a woman that uses "yo" in a sentence," he said. "I concede defeat. You're right. I know everything."

She giggled again. "I know. Now…what do you think. Five bags of dirt? Is that enough? Too much?"

"How big are the pots?" he said, studying the variety of bagged soils available.

She shrugged. "I…don't know. About like this?" she said, holding her arms out. "Or maybe bigger. Or smaller. I don't know."

"I think four should do it," he said. "The bags are pretty big."

"Ok," she said. "Can you hold the cart so it doesn't move when I shove them under there?" she asked, moving around to the front of the wheeled contraption.

"Here," he said. "I can get them."

She shook her head. "I don't want you to hurt yourself," she said. "That's a weird angle, especially from your chair."

"I'm not going to hurt myself," he said. "It's bags of dry dirt. It's fine, Quinn."

She shook her head again. "No, Artie. If there's even the smallest chance of you hurting yourself, you're not doing it. I am going to need you later, and I need you in top physical condition!"

He was about to respond, when an employee at the garden centre approached them, asking if he could help them with anything. Artie suspected that the man had been standing nearby, listening to their conversation, and gave him a grateful nod when Quinn turned her back to look at some other plants she had missed.

After they were finished, and Quinn had paid for everything they'd picked out, the same employee accompanied them to the van, and helped them load everything into it, making sure that the plants and dirt were securely in place.

"Thank you," Artie said to the man, once they were finished, giving him an appreciative nod.

The man smiled. "No problem. That's what I'm here for. Have fun, you two!"

Quinn smiled, thanking him as well, before they got into the van to head to her house.

"Ok," Quinn said, as she backed the van into the driveway. "I think the best thing to do here is probably for me to open the side gate, so we can take everything through there. We have a wheelbarrow, so it should just take a couple of trips. Or maybe one, if we load it right."

As the ramp lowered, Artie surveyed the landscape. He hadn't really been in Quinn's back yard, due to the fact that there were stairs leading from the porch down into the yard, but he assumed that she would have said something if it wasn't accessible from the side.

"The ground is a little uneven," she continued, standing outside the van door. "I should have thought of this before now. Is that going to be a problem?"

Once he was out of the van, he looked at the path. "No, it should be fine," he said. "I'll just be careful."

"Do you want me to help you?" she asked, opening the back of the van.

He shook his head, smiling at her. "No, it's ok. Oh, look," he added. "Everything made it ok. I was a little worried about those snapdragons, the way he stuffed them in there, but I guess he did know what he was doing, because they look perfect."

Smiling at Artie's slick shifting of the conversation from himself back to the plants, Quinn stepped to the side. "Why don't I take a couple of things now," she said, "And then I'll go get the wheelbarrow and we can load it up."

Nodding, Artie began rearranging the plants.

When Quinn returned with the wheelbarrow, they loaded the dirt into it, sliding the bags easily from the back of the van down into the loading area, and then began piling plants on top. Once Quinn was satisfied that everything was loaded safely, she closed the back of the van.

"Should I take this back there, and then come back just in case the path isn't as even as I think it is?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Quinn, really…it's fine. Don't worry about it. Go ahead, and I'll be right behind you."

Nodding somewhat reluctantly, Quinn got behind the wheelbarrow, and started wheeling it to the backyard, glancing over her shoulder periodically to make sure that Artie was behind her.

"See?" he said, once he wheeled around the side of the house. "No problem. None whatsoever."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Except for the fact that you're on grass, and it's not the easiest place for you to move around, right?"

Artie made a small gesture with his shoulders. "Nahhhh, it's fine, yo!" he said, grinning at her. "If I seem to be moving any slower than usual, it's just because I'm taking in the landscape."

Quinn giggled. "Ok, if you say so. But you'd tell me if you needed something, right?"

He nodded. "I would…but I won't need anything. Everything is just fine."

Deciding not to push the issue further, Quinn began setting the plants out on the picnic table. "Now," she said. "What's the best way to do this? Should we put stuff where we're going to plant it, so we can make sure everything has a place, and then put them in the ground? Or should we be making a diagram or something?"

He laughed. "I don't think we need a diagram," he said. "As much as it would thrill me to make one. I think we should probably just plan out where stuff is going to go, and then start planting them."

Quinn nodded. "Is this the part where I admit that I've never actually planted something? You're going to have to teach me."

He nodded. "It's not that hard. Dig a hole, take it out of the pot, put it in the hole, fill in the hole, pat the dirt down around it. Repeat."

She grinned. "I think I can do that," she said, kneeling down in front of one of the flower beds. "Are you going to come down here and help me?"

Noticing the reluctant expression on his face, she went on. "I can go get something that we can sit on," she said. "And something for you to lean against, if that would help?"

Artie's face reddened, and she heard him mutter something.

"I didn't quite hear that," she said. "But you don't have to come down here if you don't want to. I understand."

"It's not that I don't want to," he said. "I just…it's a little awkward for me to get out of my chair onto the ground, and then back in, and it's going to take a while…and it's already kind of late. What about if I get started on the pots?"

Quinn was tempted to tell him that she would help him if she needed it, but decided that she didn't want to make him anymore uncomfortable than he clearly was. She really wished that he would talk about things like that with her, rather than creating some sort of diversion every time something came up. "Ok," she said. "I'll go grab some. We have WAY too many plants, so we're probably going to need…all of them."

As Quinn planted the plants around the yard, Artie lined up several pots along the bench of the picnic table, and filled them with dirt. When he was satisfied that everything was equally distributed, he began pulling plants from their pots, and setting them on top of the soil.

Seeing what he was doing, Quinn got up, and walked over to him. "Making plans before you plant?" she asked, leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of his head.

He nodded. "It's just what my mom always does," he said. "She says it makes it better at the end, because you can see how everything's going to look."

Quinn grinned. "You garden a lot with your mom, don't you?"

He nodded again. "The summer after my accident," he began, quietly, "Most kids were outside playing with each other. I was in the backyard with my mom, learning about plants and stuff."

Quinn's expression softened, as he went on.

"When I first realized that the few friends I'd had before the accident wanted basically nothing to do with me after, I was sad. I mean…I knew that they probably just didn't know how to be around me anymore, and that it wasn't actually about me, and mostly about the chair…but it still kind of hurt. I was still the same person, and I couldn't understand why they couldn't see that. Then, after a couple of weeks of hanging out with Mom in the backyard, I realized that I was probably having more fun, and learning more stuff, than anyone else did that summer. We've done the garden together every summer since, and, as soon as Linds was old enough, she started doing it to."

Quinn smiled, placing a hand on his arm. "Thank you for sharing that," she said. "And I'm really glad your mom is so awesome. Partially because it helped shape how awesome you are, and partly because she gave you all the knowledge you needed to help me make the yard look fantastic."

Grinning, he reached out and took her hand. "I thought it was my job to lighten the mood?"

She giggled. "Well, you were busy filling those pots, so I thought I'd better step in. I love you so much."

His grin widening into a large smile, he leaned forward. "I love you, too," he whispered into her ear. "Now let's get this stuff finished up here."

"Your garden looks beautiful," Artie said, grinning at her as they surveyed their work from the side of the yard.

They'd finished planting everything, and had cleaned up. Quinn had set the pots along the sides of the stairs, leaving one in the centre of the picnic table, and then they had watered everything. It looked amazing.

She grinned back, draping herself across his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's not my garden. It's our garden."