To Make Nice

Prologue

It was a typical summery Saturday in Lima, Ohio. Two innocent seven year olds were playing contently down by the creek where the wildflowers grew. The boy sported a swift Mohawk, as the little girl twirled around the water's edge in her tiny yellow sundress with a bouquet of freshly plucked flowers in her fists, her silky hazel hair flowing about.

The boy tackled her, the two of them laughing as they sank down into the inch-deep pool of fresh water. He secured a flower in her curl.

"Like in the movies," he said, thoughtfully winking at her. "Can we play house again tomorrow?"

"No, I got church in the morning and Daddy's letting me usher with him,"

"…Jesus Freak.." He teased.

"Hey! That's not nice, or funny at all," she shoved the flowers in his face.

"I'm sorry, Q. I just wanna play with you. You're pretty. Prettier than Santana, or Hailee, or any other girl in the first grade.

The little girl blushed. "So tell me, Pucky, why in God's great mind would you wanna marry me for?"

The boy returned the blushed look, "So I could kiss ya anytime I like to,"

"That's why?" She asked. "I could think of a bunch-a reasons,"

"Like what?"

The girl looked awkwardly across the creek at the family of yellow ducks out for a quaint swim.

"I want to have lots and lots of pretty little babies with ya, that's what. And we can live in a big house like Mr. Watson on Oak Street. And we'll have two dogs named Buster and Shepherd, and a cat named Susan."

The boy laughed a little, "You're weird, Q."

"That's never been a problem before, Pucky." She shared a toothy grin.

The kids walked through the tall grass back to the city park's pavilion. The boy, Noah Puckerman, chastely kissed the girl, Quinn Fabray on her cheek, earning a smile from her and an 'awe!' from their mothers.

Present Day

"Q… Q… Quinn…Q-QUINN!"

Quinn Fabray was jerked awake from a nap on her desk, a nap apparently she was the only one who wasn't aware of.

She cleaned her mouth of saliva and mouth residue "Mmm, yeah?"

Ira, her boss, shook his head. "Do you have your portfolio for the Fall Line?"

He was laughing 'surely I can't be in that deep of shit this time…' "Yes sir, I have it right here," she reached easily into her desk's cubby under it's supply drawer, withdrawing a fat manila envelope of sketches for the Fall Line of Contemporary Home Furnishings.

Quinn Fabray was making quite a name for herself. She'd started at Ira Heeley's firm just under six years ago, and had already been a partner in her eighth month there. If you lived in New Jersey, New York or Rhode Island, you were most likely sitting on a Fabray Loveseat (Quinn's signature structure piece).

"Excellent, Doll. I want you to be free tonight, these are going up at the Design Expo tonight at the Forener Centre East. Don't be late. These will be on display, and the buyers are going to want a full open minded commentary on your inspirations, alrighty?"

"I'll try to be there, I. It's just… Damon's got something ultra special planned for late tonight after his eight o'clock meeting with his firm," She closed as she was earning a look from Ira… it wasn't pretty. "Darling, Ira, Sweetheart, You know me. I wouldn't miss this night for all the special dates with Damon in the world. I'll be there."

Ira smiled, satisfied. "I know I can always count on you, Q! See you at seven!"

Once Ira was out of sight, Quinn let an exhausted sigh escape her and she clonked her head on her desk once more.

"Q, babe, le'me clean up, you go home and get ready for later." Alana winked, handing Quinn her clutch and an Evian.

"My Gosh, Lani, you're the best. Love you!" She blew a kiss to her assistant and the interns and slipped into the elevator just outside.

On her way out, Quinn handed the Evian to Gretchen, the receptionist, and tipped Harvey the doorman.

After hailing a cab almost instantly and a brutal drive in Friday afternoon NYC traffic, Quinn was (finally) to her building on the Upper East side. Her personal doormen, Marshall, welcomed her and a smile.

The keys to her studio apartment clicked and she was greeted inside by her Siamese cat, Rayley. Ray purred and nestled against her ankle as she skimmed her mail. 'Bills, bills, nothing interesting, coupons, bills' "Hey, Ray, cut it out, Mommy's got to get a shower before the car comes and she's cutting it a little close, and yeah, here I am pleading independence from my cat."

At seven o'clock sharp, Quinn was greeted by Frankie, her driver for special events and such NYC casualties.

"33rd and Fender, thanks!" Quinn sat back into the cushy seat of Frankie's town car. Who would have thought one day she'd know New York City better than one Rachel Berry? It'd taken six and a half years but there's yet to be one sight of the sour Berry around even still.

The Expo was nothing new to Quinn. She'd been to one at leas five or six times out of the year, but to Ira, each one is as big and as exclusive as the last. So there really was no way out.

Eventually, when every buyer was stocked up on Quinn's self-rehearsed information, it was time for her to bid farewell to Alana and Parker with Ira's grateful permission.

The ride to Damon's building was uneventful and quiet as she simply checked orders from her Blackberry and attempted to get the rave-style music beat that'd been blasting at the expo far out of her mind.

She waited outside his firm's building barely at all before the dapper fellow walked almost in slow motion through the rotating doors of the Law building.

'I am so lucky. Such fucking hot sex of manly man that I have all to myself.'

Damon kissed her head and reached for her hand when he joined her in the car "Hey there, Frankster!" He joked, earning an annoyed glance from Frankie.

"Babe, I told you not to call him that!" Quinn reprimanded him.

"Hun, I'm paying him $500 for the night, I can call him Ass Bag for all I care and he'd still be obligated to drive us." Damon defended. "I'm sorry, that was wrong," he kissed her forehead "how was the Expo, darling?"

Quinn rolled her eyes but settled into his chest "Boring. I was thinking about you the whole time. I missed you, baby." She looked up and kissed his jaw.

"Good to know I was missed."

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up in front of an older styled building, almost as if it were the only dead one in the street. It was white brick and had two columns on the outside.

"This is your surprise? An abandoned building, Damon, what the Hell?"

"Quinndolyn, babe, just work with me, kid." He guided her out of the car and into the building.

"I dunno how I feel about this, Dame… I'm kind of spooked by the fact that your hands are covering my eyes from seeing anything." Quinn complained.

Suddenly, as they turned a corner, the lights went up. They were on a posh deck, overlooking the Hudson River. The lights from the bridge twinkled against their silver trays of sushi and dinner. The candle's flame flailing in the breeze.

She looked down to see Damon kneeling down on one knee, with a Tiffany blue box propped open, revealing a three-carat diamond ring plunged into a white gold band.

"Damon…" Quinn gasped.

"Quinn Elizabeth Fabray… will you marry me?"

How was that? Should I continue? Leave a review! x