Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures, pulling your puzzles apart.
Questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart

-The Scientist, Coldplay

"Have you ever wanted kids?" she asked.

They were a young couple, lying together in their dingy, rundown apartment. His arm was around her, and she had her head on his chest.

The question startled him. Jake had never been one to think of kids – unless he was preventing them, of course. He'd never considered being a parent, but her question scared him. What kind of father could he be? Not a very good one, considering his only example had ever been his own distant father.

"No," he said, his voice dripping with a hard edge.

She looked up at him and he knew immediately it was the answer she'd expected, but the answer she hadn't wanted to hear.

"Would you want to be?" she whispered, daring him to give her the answer she'd wanted.

He let the silence linger before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. "No," he admitted.

"Oh." She turned from him, attempting to get out of his hold, but he wouldn't let her.

"Imogen –" he began, but she cut him off.

"Why are we together then?" Her brown eyes were ablaze and her face was tight with anger. "We clearly want separate things. I want a family, and you want this," she said, tossing her hand between the two. "You want girlfriends, maybe, but all it ever can be is sex."

"Now that's not fair!" he spat at her, angry suddenly, and releasing her. He stood up, creating distance from her, and he saw how angry it made her and regretted it instantly.

"It's always not fair," she said, standing up on her side of the bed. "I want you, and I want a family with you, and you don't want that."

He heard the quiver in her voice and felt his heart thud hard in his chest. "I want you, Imogen, it's just –" he broke off the sentence, letting the words hover in the air, waiting for him to finish.

"Just what?" she pressed, moving closer to him, touching his arm softly, reminding him that it was okay. She was there with him.

There was a long moment of silence and he sighed, shaking his head and running a hand down his face. "I'm not good at that stuff, Im. The things a dad would need to be and everything. That's not me. I'm like my dad, and that isn't fair to you, let alone any kid we'd ever have."

Imogen dropped her gaze, feeling her lower lip quiver, but squaring her shoulders, she looked at him. "I'll admit it, you put a wall up, and it takes beating you to a pulp to get you to open up, but face it, Jake Martin, you're a softy. One look at a kid and it'd have you wrapped around its little finger for life. Don't even try and deny it. And you're affectionate. Sometimes overly affectionate," she teased, trying to lighten the mood, but the joke was clearly not a mood lightener from the look at his frown.

"I'd shut down on it," he said sadly. Admitting a defeat before any real battle had been fought, and it upset her slightly.

"Not with me around," Imogen declared. "I wouldn't let you."

He sighed and sat on the bed. "What if I fucked it up, like my dad did me?"

Imogen crawled beside him on the bed and took his face in her hands. "Now you listen to me, Jake Martin, and you listen good. You're not as messed up as you give yourself credit for. Now I admit you could be chattier, but that isn't you. I don't think you need to change, and you're wonderful because of who you are. Glenn probably didn't win any father of the year trophy, but you are the best person I know. I love you, and so would any addition to the two of us that may or may not happen."

He looked at her for a long, hard moment, and then he kissed her, lowering her down to the bed. "I love you," he murmured against her skin, and she ran her hand down his spine, murmuring that she loved him too.

Curled against each other, she kissed his knuckles, tangling her fingers in between his, and leaned into him.

"I love you," she breathed, resting her head onto his bicep.

"So I've heard," he said cheekily, earning himself a playful kick.

She laughed softly, tracing patterns with her free hand onto his arm.

"I like this. You and me," she clarified.

"I never had any doubts," he said, nestling himself down, his eyes feeling heavy.

"And I've been thinking," she said, blind to his sleepy state, "and I've been thinking about this a lot, okay."

"Hmm," he said, closing his eyes.

"Would you marry me?" she asked.

He laughed, "Sure, Immy," he said, snuggling up against her. Not hearing, or comprehending the sincerity in her words.

She turned to him. "I'm serious."

His eyes snapped open, and his cheeks felt warm. She was seriously asking him? Of course she was, he should have never expected to be the one asking her. She'd initiated their first kiss, their first date, even this. And he found himself smiling, feeling butterflies explode in his gut. She had thought about marrying him. She was asking. She wanted to marry him.

"Yes," he said, causing her to smile, "yes, I would marry you."

Grinning, she released his hand and looped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly.

"Mrs. Jake Martin," Jake said, pondering over it. "Mrs. Imogen Martin… I like it."

Imogen rolled her eyes playfully, but gave a longing sigh. "Imogen Martin," she said, smiling as the name rolled easily off her tongue. "I like the flow of it," she said, curling back into it. "Thankfully you don't have an ugly last name."

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. "Good night, future Imogen Martin," he said, causing her to giggle, and nudge his leg with her tiny foot.