"QUINN!" Lindsay shouted, as she flung open the door. "You're here! We were waiting for you. Artie said we weren't allowed to start until she got here!" she added, throwing her arms around Quinn's waist.

"Hey Linds," she said, smiling and hugging her back. "I hope you haven't been waiting long!"

"No, just ten minutes," she said. "We had to have breakfast, and then I couldn't find my garden shoes, and then I finally did in the laundry room."

"Ahh," Quinn said, as she followed Lindsay down the hall. "Well, good thing you found them!"

Lindsay nodded, turning the corner into the living room. "Artie," she said. "Quinn is here!"

"Hey," he said, lifting his head from the couch pillow it was resting on. "Here, I was just going to get up," he added, propping himself up.

He was about to continue, when Lindsay cut in.

"He had to lie down because of his back," she said. "That happens sometimes."

"Are you ok?" Quinn asked, looking concerned.

He nodded, pulling himself into an upright position. "Of course," he said, wincing slightly and hoping Quinn hadn't noticed. "Ready for some hardcore gardening?"

Quinn grinned, deciding it wasn't the appropriate time to ask him if he was in pain, as he was clearly trying to avoid that entirely. "I was born ready," she said. "Isn't that what you usually say?"

He chuckled, transferring to his chair. "Woman, I WAS born ready. For anything. Let's get this show on the road!"

"Quinn, we have to rake the dirt before we can do anything," Lindsay said, as soon as they were outside. "We have two rakes. You can help me!"

As Artie watched Lindsay take Quinn's hand and drag her over to the section of the garden they were going to get ready first, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You ok, honey?" Beth asked, stepping beside him.

He nodded. "I'm fine," he said, quietly. "Look at how excited Linds is."

Beth smiled. "She's been talking about how she was going to get Quinn to help her with the raking all morning. And you're sure?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your back's not sore?"

He shook his head. "Seriously, Mom. Don't worry about it…I'm fine," he added, smiling up at her.

"And I should believe that, because you have a history of being honest about how you're feeling," she said. "Promise me you'll take it easy today," she added, quietly, bending down and speaking into his ear. "I don't want you bending too much, or lifting, or anything that's going to make it worse. I'd actually prefer it if you went and stretched yourself out on the couch for a while longer."

He shook his head again. "I don't need to do that," he muttered. "I promised Linds and Quinn we'd do this today. It's ok, really. I can handle myself, Mom."

Realizing that no amount of trying to convince her son to take it easy would be successful, Beth nodded, straightening up. "I just don't want you to be in pain, sweetie," she said. "Linds and Quinn would understand."

"No," he said. "I am not letting anything mess with this day. Look at how much fun they're having," he pointed out, as Linds threw a clump of grass at Quinn, who giggled, and tossed a leaf back at the little girl. "I'm not going to do anything that's going to make it worse."

Not entirely satisfied with that answer, Beth nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Want to help me figure out what we're going to plant where?" she asked, heading over to the table on which she had placed the bag of seed packets. "I thought we'd try a few different things this year," she added. "I got some stuff we haven't had before."

Artie nodded, following her and reaching into the bag. "Oh my God," he said. "Do you think this actually grows as colourful as it is on the package?" he asked, holding up an envelope of swiss chard seeds. "Because if it does, this might be my new favourite garden thing."

Beth chuckled, sorting through the seed packages until she found what she was looking for. "I'm assuming it does," she said. "I thought we'd also try these," she said, tossing another seed packet in his direction. "They looked more exciting than just plain red ones.

Artie studied the packet of radish seeds. "Mom…If all this stuff is as colourful as it shows it here…I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to contain myself when it starts growing," he quipped. "Remember the yellow tomatoes last year? NOTHING, compared to this."

She smiled. "That's what I thought," she said.

"ARTIE!"

He turned, spying Lindsay running towards him, her hands cupped around something.

"We found a frog!" she said, opening her hands over her brother's lap, depositing the green amphibian in her brother's lap.

"Why is he in my lap?" Artie said, pretending to be shocked. "You're not trying to make me kiss him, are you? Because we don't need a handsome prince running around the yard…we've already got me. Not that I run around the yard that much, but, you know."

He hadn't noticed Quinn standing behind him until she burst out laughing at his statement. "What do you think, Linds?" she asked. "Do you want a handsome prince to come help us?"

Lindsay shook her head. "No. I want Artie," she said.

Artie turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Did you just insinuate that I am NOT a handsome prince?" he said, trying to stifle the grin threatening to spread across his face.

"I don't know what insinuate means," Linds said. "But I want you to help," she went on, moving herself behind his chair. "Let's go."

Watching as Lindsay struggled a bit to wheel his chair directly across the yard, rather than staying on the path, Quinn smiled. "Maybe I should go give them a hand," she said to Beth.

The older woman smiled. "They're fine," she said. "Linds won't let you help her," she added. "She's been pretty insistent on pushing that chair by herself ever since she was strong enough to get it to move. Or...ever since she thought she was strong enough to get it to move, because she was little couldn't see Artie's hands, carefully helping her out."

Quinn smiled softly, watching as Lindsay handed Artie a rake and pointed to what she wanted help with. "They're pretty much the most adorable thing I've ever seen," she said, quietly, so the pair wouldn't hear her.

Beth nodded. "The first time Lindsay stood up," she said, "She was holding onto Artie's chair. The look on his face was absolutely priceless. It was one of the happiest expressions I've ever seen. She'd been trying for a while on the coffee table and the couch, and he kept trying to help her, and then, when she grabbed onto his chair and pulled herself up, it was like he couldn't believe it was happening."

Quinn's smile widened. "I think I've seen pictures of that," she said. "There's some hanging in the hall, right?"

Beth nodded. "He's so good with her. He always has been."

"He's good with everyone," Quinn said, almost to herself. "I've never seen anyone with as much patience as he has."

Beth nodded again, a soft smile spreading across her face, as she regarded the smiling blond girl standing in front of her. "Quinn, I'm really glad you came to give us a hand today," she said. "We all are."

Quinn grinned. "Thank you for letting me!" she said. "I've never planted a vegetable garden before," she said, studying the seed packets spread out across the table. "I've never even heard of some of these things!"

"We try to mix it up a little," she said. "You know, variety, spice of life, all that stuff."

Quinn giggled. Had she seen the words that had just come out of Beth's mouth on paper, rather than hearing them, she would have assumed it was something Artie had said. She loved how alike they were.

"I should probably get back there," she said. "It looks like Linds is waiting for me."

Beth smiled. "Quinn, can you do me a favour?" she asked, quietly.

Quinn nodded, and Beth went on.

"Don't let him do too much," she said. "I don't want him bending excessively or lifting anything heavy," she added.

Quinn nodded. "He's ok, though, right?"

"He was a little sore this morning," she said. "But, according to him, he's right as rain now."

Quinn glanced over, watching as Artie leaned forward, reaching for something on the ground. "I'll keep an eye on him," she said. "But I doubt he'll listen if I say anything."

"He probably won't," she said. "But you never know."

Beth watched as Quinn hurried across the yard, and placed a hand on Artie's shoulder, murmuring something into his ear. She saw him nod, and mutter something back, grinning up at Quinn's smiling face. Maybe he'd listen to Quinn after all.

As they worked, preparing the large garden plot for the seeds according to the diagram Artie had prepared in his mind (and would have prepared on paper, if he didn't think Quinn might have thought that was a little odd), Quinn tried to make sure that Artie wasn't doing anything she thought might make the back pain he was pretending didn't exist worse.

She looked on, as he leaned forward to pick something up, stopping halfway, apparently deciding that wasn't as good an idea as he had thought it was. She watched as he bit down on his lip and shifted himself in his chair, and was about to go over and say something, when she noticed Linds running over to him.

"Artie, is your back hurting again?" the little girl asked, so quietly that Quinn could barely hear her. "You should go lie down. Please?"

He shook his head, as she stroked his arm gently. "No, Linds, it's fine," he said.

"But Artie," she went on, softly. "You have that face that you have when your back hurts."

"Linds, I said it's fine," he muttered. "Really."

"But your face!" she said, again. "Your face doesn't lie, Artie. I'll go inside with you, if you want to lie down. We can watch a movie."

Quinn glanced over at Beth, noticing that the woman was observing the exchange between her oldest and youngest, a concerned look on her face. She smiled softly at the little girl's concern for her brother.

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched from behind and one side, Artie smiled at his sister. "It's ok, Linds," he said. "We need to get this stuff finished. And it's not that bad."

"I don't like it when your back hurts," the little girl said, wrapping an arm gingerly around his neck. "It makes me sad."

Ignoring the pain in his back when he moved, Artie draped his arm around her. "Hey, don't be sad," he said. "It's not that bad."

"Then why did you jump when I touched you?" she questioned.

Artie thought for a second. He had hoped that the fact that he'd said something that rhymed might distract her, but apparently not. "Your hands are cold," he said, finally. "It was just cold when you touched my neck."

"Oh," she said. "Wait…my hands aren't cold."

At that moment, Artie realized that there was total silence in the yard. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing Quinn standing about ten feet behind him. His mother was standing over to the side. And both of them were watching.

"Linds, we'd better get back to work," he muttered. "Can you pass me that little shovel?" he asked, pointing to the object that lay just outside his (comfortable) reach.

She shook her head. "No. We're going inside."

"Linds," he started again. "We're not done yet."

"You're going to lie down," she said, moving behind his chair and struggling to get him turned around. "Mom and Quinn can finish the garden."

He put his hands down, stopping the chair, much to his sister's surprise. He usually just caved and let her have her way.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "We're going inside."

"We aren't," he said, turning his chair slightly, his cheeks burning. "We need to finish up this stuff first. Then we can go inside. How about if you come help me? That'll make it go faster."

Reluctantly, she nodded, steering him back towards the garden.

As Quinn watched the exchange between the two, she noticed the concern on Beth's face growing by the minute. Artie's reaction to Linds's attempt to get him to go inside was as unexpected by both of them as it was by Lindsay. She wanted to go over and say something to him, but she wasn't sure how he'd react.

Finally, after hearing him mutter a selection of curse words under his breath as he attempted to finish the row he was getting ready to be planted, she headed over to him.

"Artie," she said quietly, placing her hand gently on his arm. "I think we should take a break. Linds looks kind of tired."

He glanced up. "No she doesn't," he said, watching the girl as she ran back and forth. "She's running around like someone just recharged her batteries and set her loose on the yard."

"Well, I'm kind of tired," she tried again. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Quinn…" he said, trailing off.

"Your mom is tired?" she said, stifling a grin. "Everyone is tired but you, apparently. Look...let's just go inside, ok? There's nothing going on out here that can't wait for another day when everyone has more energy, and you're not being stubborn. I know you think that you're doing a terrific job of hiding that you're in pain, but Artie...seriously. I could tell by looking at you before we even came out here. I'm not stupid."

"Right," he said. "I know what's going on here. I'm not stupid either."

Quinn said nothing, worried that she'd upset him, until he continued.

"You just want to get me inside so you can take advantage of me. But Quinn, we can't do that when my mom and Linds are here," he said quietly, a mischievous grin on his face. "That's just not appropriate, and I can't believe that you'd even think of such a thing. I always thought you had good manners."

She giggled. "Yes, you're right. That's been my plan all along," she said. "I just want to get you in there so I can tear your clothes off and have my way with you," she whispered into his ear. "But seriously," she said, a little louder, "While I would like that…you're clearly in pain. We're going inside. Where you can choose between lying on the couch, or lying on your bed."

"I don't need to lie down," he muttered. "I need to get this finished, so we can plant the seeds."

"Or you need to go lie down," she said. "Artie, you can barely move. And Linds is right...it's completely obvious in your face that you're hurting," she added. "And that makes me sad, too. And I don't think we need to talk about how it makes your mom feel."

"I'm fine," he said, unconvincingly. "We're almost done. And hey! Are you trying to GUILT me into going inside, woman?"

Quinn grinned. "Guilt you? Never!"

"You people think you can achieve anything by making me feel guilty," he grumbled. "But I'm not going inside until we're done."

"I think we're done now," she said, noticing that Beth had started packing up what she'd been working on. "Look, your mom is packing it in."

He glanced over, noticing that his mother was very purposely not looking at them.

"Ok, fine," he said, admitting defeat. "Just let me clean this stuff up."

"I'll put away your shovel," Lindsay said, appearing out of nowhere. "And your rake. And everything. Go lie down, Artie."

It became clear to Artie that Quinn and Lindsay weren't going to give up until he was inside, and that, combined with the fact that his mother was hurriedly packing away the garden tools, despite the fact that they weren't finished, and the fact that he was actually starting to wonder if his back was going to explode, convinced him that there was no point in continuing to resist.

"Fine," he muttered. "If you guys want to keep going," he said, loud enough that everyone could hear him, "Then go ahead. I'll just go lie down."

"We can finish tomorrow, sweetie," Beth said, as she closed the garden shed door. "The garden isn't going to run away overnight."

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said, quietly. "I know you wanted to finish this today."

"I'd rather wait, and finish it with you tomorrow," Beth said, smiling at her son. "It'll do the soil some good to settle overnight anyway. Now…you, inside," she added, pointing to the door.

"I'll help you, Artie," Lindsay said, moving behind his chair. "You just sit there, ok?"

"Not like I have much choice," he said, a small smirk spreading across his features as Lindsay pushed his chair carefully up the gently-sloped ramp to the porch.

"Quinn," Lindsay said, as they approached the door. "Can you go get Artie a drink so he can take his pills?"

"No," Artie cut in. "I'm not taking anything right now. That can wait."

"Well, how about I get you a drink anyway," Quinn said, veering off into the kitchen as Lindsay delivered Artie to the living room. "Linds, do you want something?" she called out.

"Juice, please!" the little girl responded. "And Artie needs water for his body to be healthy."

Quinn grinned, as she heard Artie's voice say something she couldn't quite make out to his sister. From the tone of his voice, he was trying to let her know he wasn't impressed...and was failing miserably.

She was just finishing pouring Linds's juice, when Beth came through the doorway. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked.

Beth smiled. "No thanks, Quinn," she said. "Not right now. Is Artie lying down?"

"I think he's headed there" Quinn said, leaning against the counter. "He and Linds were headed towards the living room."

"He needs to stretch out his back," Beth said. "I shouldn't even have let him out there in the first place."

"I don't think I need to tell you that I doubt you could have stopped him," Quinn said. "He seemed pretty insistent about getting stuff done."

"And I don't think I need to tell you that he always is," Beth said, grinning. "That's just the way he's always been. Even before the accident, he never let anyone help him with anything. He just listens less now than he did when he was younger," she added. "He always thinks he knows better."

"I can hear you talking about me," Artie called from the living room. "Just so you know. And I don't think I know better. I DO know better. Most of the time."

Quinn smiled. "I guess I'd better go bring them these," she said, gesturing to the glasses.

Beth smiled back. "Thanks, Quinn," she said. "Don't let him give you a hard time."

"He won't," she said, picking up the drinks. "And if he does, he knows I can hand it back to him as well as he can dish it out."

Quinn walked into the living room just in time to see Linds tucking a blanket gently around her brother.

"I don't need a blanket, Linds," he muttered, trying to pull it off. "It's ridiculously warm in here."

"Yes you do," she said. "Because you're having a nap. Everybody needs a blanket when they have a nap."

"Um…ok," he said. "I'm not having a nap, but I guess I could keep it just in case..." he trailed off, smoothing it with his hand.

Lindsay giggled. "Do you want me to rub your back?"

He shook his head, noticing that Quinn was standing at the opposite end of the couch. "No, Linds, that's fine," he said, quietly.

"But that makes you feel better!" the little girl insisted, much to her brother's chagrin.

"I feel fine," he muttered. "Look, Quinn has your juice."

"Here you go Linds," Quinn said, handing her the glass she'd been holding.

The little girl smiled at her, before thanking her, taking the juice, and announcing that she had to go find something in her room.

"I guess you could have used this before you were lying down," Quinn said to Artie, gesturing at the glass in her hand. "Sorry."

"Clearly you haven't seen my awesome drinking while lying down skills," he said, a sparkle in his eye. "And if that fails…well, I'm covered in a blanket for the nap which I'm apparently having, so at least I won't get too wet."

Quinn giggled. "How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting down in one of the soft, comfortable chairs, so that she was facing him.

"Fine," he said, turning his head so he could see her better. "Lying down helps a bit. I also have some stuff I could take, but that'll just make me pass out…so I'll spare you that."

"If it will help," she said, "Then take something. No need to stay awake on my account."

He shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I'll just lie here for a while."

"Is it muscle spasms?" she asked, bringing her legs up into the chair she was sitting in.

He nodded, and was about to elaborate, when something dawned on him.

"How do you know about that?" he asked. "We haven't really talked about it."

"Oh, I was just wondering…" she trailed off.

"Quinn?" he said, trying not to let what he was feeling show on his face.

"What?" she asked, hoping her face looked more innocent than her voice sounded.

Judging from the look on his face, he didn't believe that she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Ok, fine," she went on. "I Googled some stuff. Has AJ sent you the picture of the puppies yet?"

"No, not ye-…Hold up," he said. "You GOOGLED it? What does "some stuff" mean? What did you Google? And then you tried to distract me with puppies?"

"Um…just general stuff," she said.

"How much general stuff?" he asked again, clearly mortified. He had a very good idea of what she'd have found, depending on what she had typed into the search engine, and most of it was not what he wanted to be discussing at that moment.

"Well," she said, "My personal Google was a little reluctant to divulge information for a long time, so I thought I'd better do a little research of my own so that, when we do talk about stuff, or if something comes up unexpectedly, I don't look like a moron."

"I don't think you're a moron," he said, quietly. "Did you read anything that you found…off-putting? Weird? How much of what you found DIDN'T you want to know?"

"Nothing off-putting or weird," she said. "And I'm sorry if the fact that I did that makes you uncomfortable," she went on. "I just realized how much I didn't know, and thought maybe I should start to fix that. Because I do want us to talk, Artie."

"We don't have to talk about that stuff right now, do we?" he asked. "Because I'm going to need some time to prepare myself before we have some of those conversations. And by time I mean about five years."

She shook her head. "We don't have to talk about anything right now, if you don't want to. But maybe five years is a little long..." she trailed off.

"I will," he said. "Because I know it's important. But not right now, ok? I promise, though...I won't make you wait five years."

She nodded. "Now, are you actually feeling better, or was that just to get me to stop asking?" she said, a small grin on her face.

"A bit of both," he admitted. "I just don't want you to worry about stuff."

"I would have been a lot less worried if you'd just admitted that you were in pain hours ago," she said. "And so would your mom. And Linds!"

"I know," he said, softly. "I just wanted us to get stuff done. And I'm sick of always being the obstacle in the way of things like that."

"Who said you were an obstacle?" Quinn asked. "Because I'm pretty sure you did more stuff out there today than everyone else combined."

He shrugged, carefully shifting and placing a hand on his back, trying to knead out some of the soreness. "I know I am. If my body hadn't decided today would be a good day to screw around," he said, "We would be done now."

"And do you think your mom and Linds see it that way?" she said. "Do you think I do?"

"No," he murmured. "Mom would wait a month for stuff to be done, if it meant that I was there helping with it. And Linds would wait forever. Actually…so would Mom, if a month wasn't enough. I just don't think people should be stuck waiting for me."

"And what about me?" she said, getting up and crouching down in front of his face. "How long do you think I'd wait, if it meant that you were there to help me with whatever's going on?"

He looked at her. "Whatever I say now is going to be wrong," he said, softly. "But I like to think that you'd wait for a long time…even though I know you hate waiting for things."

She grinned. "Good thing I don't count you as, 'things,'" she said, placing her hand gently on his. "But just so you know…I'd wait for as long as they would, if necessary."

He grinned back. "Clearly you haven't spent as much time waiting for me as they have," he said, chuckling. "You'll get sick of it after about three more weeks."

"Why?" she asked. "Is six months the breaking point for waiting? Because if so…we aren't celebrating that anniversary. We'll just pretend it never happened."

"Sounds like a plan," he said. "Now…enough about that. Can I interest you in a little tv? Some cards, perhaps?"

Laughing, Quinn leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Cards would be good, for a change," she said. "Seeing as you're apparently not going to sleep while I'm here. Where are they?"

He pointed to the small drawer on the side of the coffee table.

"Crib?" she asked, pulling out a deck of cards and a small crib board.

"That depends," he said.

"On what?" she asked, opening the package of cards and starting to shuffle them.

"On whether or not you feel like losing," he said, grinning at her. "I am unbeatable."

"Everyone thinks that," she said, grinning back. "Until they get beaten…by me."

"Is that a challenge?" he said. "Damn it, woman! You know I can't say no to a challenge!"

She giggled. "I know."

"It's on," he said. "Prepare to meet your doom. But…not doom. You know what I mean! Crib doom! …That just sounds weird."

Quinn burst out laughing. "Would you care to make a small wager?"

"Loser has to buy the winner ice cream next time we're out," he said. "I hope you have savings, because I plan on eating my weight in ice cream when that happens."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're pretty much the cutest thing ever?" she asked, arranging the pegs in the starting holes on the board. "Because you really are. And if you're going to eat your weight in ice cream…I'll pay for it even if I win. As long as I don't have to hear your complaining afterwards. Deal?"

"Deal," he said. "Now, cut the deck, so I can show you how this is done."