Warrior
Quinn smiled as she watched their son, Jaxon, help their daughter, Greenley, blow bubbles near the turtle tank. This was their first vacation in a while, and it was going exceedingly well. With a middle schooler in three different activities, and a kindergartener with Downs Syndrome who was just now starting school, they didn't have a lot of these fun days out. So she was happy for the quiet moments where they could find them. She wouldn't trade her family for anything in the world.
"Stop being mushy," Santana said, nudging her playfully.
Quinn stuck her tongue out at her and stole a sip of her peach tea. "Thanks."
"What's wrong with that kid?" a man asked loudly. He was openly pointing at Greenley with an expression of deep disgust on his face.
Before Santana could decapitate him, Jaxon turned, marched over, and leveled the man with a Fabray Glare of Power and Death.
"Absolutely nothing," he said, before going back to his sister and leading her over to the octopi.
"We raised a fucking warrior," Santana said in awe.
"Damn straight.