33 texts. 17 missed calls. 5 voicemails.

Rachel continues to watch as her phone lights up once again with a picture of Quinn.

She looks beautiful as she stares up at Rachel, her smile frozen mid laugh.

At this point, Quinn has been calling for the last two hours and a part of her doesn't want Quinn to worry. She legitimately considers answering this time and her hand hovers over the green circle but before she can decide, the ringing ceases.

18 missed calls.

Rachel wants to at least listen to the voicemails. She wants to hear Quinn's voice so badly but she's afraid that once she does, she'll give in and head home.

And that would defeat the purpose of leaving.

But what was the purpose of leaving? Rachel wonders.

She told herself when she left that this was what was best. That she and Quinn weren't cut out to be lovers. That all of this was too difficult and was only putting a strain on the friendship.

But really, Rachel didn't think any of those things were true. Up until last night, things had been okay between the two of them. They had been wonderful actually. They had started getting the wedding together piece by piece. Their request to be married in Central Park had been denied, as other couples were already occupying all of her choice all throughout the day, but they both agreed they would find another location. They had officially asked Brittany and Sam to be their maid and man of honor, respectively. They had printed and sent out their five save-the-dates. One to her fathers, one to Sam, one to Brittany, one for Annie, and one for Quinn's parents.

They had gone back and forth on whether or not to invite them. Quinn had insisted that there was no sense in sending one as she thought it would only end up in the trash. And how could Rachel convince her otherwise? Judy and Russell hadn't even come to Quinn's graduation (though Judy had sent a lovely card), despite Rachel secretly sending them an invitation.

No, they had agreed it was unlikely they would attend the wedding, but eventually Rachel's insistence won out. And though Quinn would never admit it, the part of her that hoped (however foolishly) that her parents would put aside their differences for just one day to celebrate their daughter getting married compelled her to send them an invite.

They had yet to hear from either parent. But they knew they had received them because Annie immediately after receiving hers called to ask if it was too soon to RSVP and to inquire about where they were registered for wedding gifts. That was weeks ago.

But other than that, Quinn and Rachel had been happy. Or so she thought.

Admittedly, there had seemed to be a tension in the air shortly after they had moved in together. Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on it, but Quinn seemed tense and more irritated. Originally, Rachel had chalked it up to her job. She didn't exactly know the details of what it took to be an investment banker but she was sure that it was demanding. Some days, Quinn would return home looking absolutely defeated. And Rachel hated that, but knew that Quinn's job was the reason they were able to continue living in her nice apartment. It was the reason she could buy all of her vegan, gluten-free foods that she was accustomed to. Yes, Rachel was eternally grateful for Quinn's job and especially Quinn herself.

And she had thought she had said as much enough. She thought for sure that she had made Quinn very aware of how happy and satisfied she was with everything Quinn did for her, but according to Quinn, that was far from the case.

Rachel takes a deep breath to keep from tearing up yet again. Though she severely doubts she has anymore tears left to give.

She had cried silently all night on the couch, barely getting an ounce of sleep. And at this point, she is over it, though just the thought of Quinn's tirade last night makes her eyes water.

Even now, she still has no clue what sparked Quinn's anger. She knows she can be annoyingly inquisitive. She knows that she can be too aggressive and too invasive. But she's never heard those things from Quinn. She's never been made to feel that way by Quinn. Her bullies had said those things to her in high school. Her tormentors freshmen year constantly told her that she was nosy and annoying and altogether 'too much'. But never Quinn.

But apparently, it was the way Quinn felt.

But even still, it just didn't made sense. She had asked almost nicely. She had consciously asked in a way that she hoped would avoid conflict. She hadn't accused Quinn, or at least she hadn't meant to, of outright maliciously lying. She just wanted to know why it was that Quinn felt the need to keep some things to herself. Why she felt the need to keep things inside. She didn't want to fight, she just wanted Quinn to understand that she could talk to Rachel. That she should talk to Rachel. She just wanted Quinn to start thinking of them as a "we" instead of two individuals whose decisions just happened to impact each other.

But then, as the conversation progressed, Rachel realized that her own anger and frustration began to arise from the fact that they she felt useless. She had begun to feel it as she was staring down at the check, waiting for Quinn to finish showering and it only magnified as Quinn went on and one about all the things that belonged to her and not Rachel.

Of course she was grateful for the money. Of course, she could use it and it would definitely help her chances of getting to Broadway.

But if Quinn had asked her the night before, when she had apparently come up with the idea, Rachel would've told her that she was okay with working at the dinner. She was okay with being tired all the time and constantly running from one place to the next. She was okay with shitty auditions for shitty parts and hearing no over and over again. She was perfectly okay with working her ass off to get to Broadway because it was all a part of the journey.

That has always been one of the many things that Rachel and Quinn have in common. They are hardworking and unrelenting in their efforts to succeed. They both have a strong work ethic and a firm belief that half the beauty of the reaching the destination is enjoying the journey.

In fact, Quinn had always said in regards to her fathers business that she would rather climb her way to the top than take her fathers chopper.

"You learn so much about yourself. You see exactly what you're made of," she would say.

Well, that's how Rachel felt about Broadway. She would much rather fight and claw her way to the stage than have someone pluck her from a crowd and gently place her in the spotlight.

And yet, here was Quinn trying to pick her up and place her on the stage. And while Rachel would forever be grateful, a huge part of her just felt like Quinn was taking away from her the joy of the journey.

And Rachel would've said as much last night, if only she had been given the chance.

Rachel is pulled from her thoughts as her phone vibrates yet again. She looks down expecting to see Quinn's beautiful stupid face but instead she finds that it's her father calling.

She answers immediately, bringing it up to her ear and clearing her throat before greeting him.

"Oh thank God, sweetie. Hi! It's daddy!" She can hear him take the phone away from his mouth, "Hiram, she's okay! She just picked up!" Rachel chuckles as she hears some shuffling in the background.

"Honey, it's your father!" Hiram sounds closer now, but she can still hear her daddy in the background, asking him to put the phone on speaker.

"I know dad. What's up?"

"Don't you dare 'what's up' us!" Leroy shouts into the phone. Hiram shushes him.

"Quinn called us, honey. She's an absolute wreck. She said she hadn't seen you since you left last night. She said she called and texted and never got a response! Where are you? Are you okay?"

Now Rachel begins to wish she had picked up any one of Quinn's calls or at least texted her back to tell her she is alive. Of course she should've know that eventually Quinn would call her fathers looking for her.

"Yeah, no, I'm totally fine dad. I slept there last night, I just left really early this morning."

"You share a bed! How does she not know you're there?!" Leroy shouts and Hiram snaps at him to shut up, once more.

Rachel was sincerely hoping to avoid this but it's inevitable now that her father has called her out.

"We…we got in a fight last night, so I-I slept on the couch." The whole argument replays through her mind again and she has to fight to keep the tears at bay.

She hears both of them cooing now, already preparing to give her their usual words of encouragement.

"Aww, honey. Are you okay?" Leroy asks gently.

She tries to compose herself before responding, but the second she opens her mouth to tell him that she's perfectly fine, the dam breaks.

"No…no daddy. It was really really bad." She brings her hand up to wipe the rapidly falling tears off of her cheeks, but there are just too many to catch them all.

"She yelled at me. She never yells at me. We never fight."

Hiram's protective nature springs into action upon hearing his daughter cry, but Leroy and Hiram exchange words that she cannot understand and then she hears only her daddy's voice.

"Okay, papa bear went to cool down. Why don't you tell me what's going on, sweetheart?"

Leroy listens patiently as Rachel struggles through recapping their entire argument.

"I just don't understand why she's upset. I'm the one that feels out of the loop, you know? I'm the one that feels like an idiot because I didn't even know she had started her book. And she was just so mean. Like, someone I didn't even recognize daddy. And I don't even know why. I mean, am I wrong? Is it wrong to want to have a discussion about major decisions? Am I wrong for feeling like she should be open and honest with me? Am I the problem?"

Leroy sighs. He hates to hear his baby girl in any sort of pain. Hates to hear her cry. He wants to do what he has always done. He wants to tell her that the rest of the world is stupid and foolish. He wants to pull her in his arms and reassure her that she's the prettiest, most intelligent thing this world has ever seen, like he used to when she would come home from school crying.

But he has to remind himself that Rachel isn't his baby girl anymore. She is a woman. A woman who is in a serious relationship and seeking his help and telling her she's pretty and funny and smart isn't going to solve anything. So he tries a different approach.

"You want to know something funny Rachel? Your father and I had a similar fight once."

Rachel sniffles. "Really?"

"Really. He was fresh out of law school, he had just gotten a job with a great firm. And I was working at Howie's, just to make a little money while in between jobs." Rachel smiles to herself, remembering the photos she's seen of her daddy dressed in his bright pink Howie's outfit.

"And your dad was so excited about this new job, he actually went down Howie's one day and turned in a letter of resignation for me." Rachel gasps, having never heard this story before.

"Yes! I couldn't believe it either! But yes! He did! And when I finally got home that evening, he told me what he had done and I was livid. I was so upset with him that we didn't speak for days. But anytime I would pass him by, he would make comments about how unfair I was being. How he had done this for me. How it was supposed to be a pleasant surprise that I wouldn't have to work there anymore." That was all too familiar to Rachel.

"Obviously, we finally worked things out, and thank goodness because a few weeks later the adoption agency called and told us we were going to be getting a beautiful new born girl, but for a while there things were really rough. It took your dad forever to understand where I was coming from. I wasn't trying to seem ungrateful, but at the same time, I needed to feel like a contributor to the relationship."

"Exactly!" Rachel cuts in. "That's what I want! I just want to feel like I'm giving as much as I'm getting. Being able to just focus on Broadway sounds wonderful, but then I'm really bringing nothing to the relationship. And she says it's fine, but then when she gets upset, she throws it in my face that I do nothing. And it makes me feel terrible."

"Hmm, yes, and that's a problem as well. You two will have to learn how to fight better."

"No, dad, I don't want to fight at all. I hate fighting with her."

Leroy laughs and she thinks she can hear her other father in the background doing the same.

She hears Hiram's voice on the phone next.

"Oh, no honey. That's not possible. Avoiding a fight may have been possible when you were just friends, and honestly, I'm surprised you made it this long without a major argument. But you can't avoid fighting, you just have to learn to do it better. You have to almost set rules, so that each person knows what is and is not appropriate."

Her daddy grabs the phone back and it sounds like they're lightly scuffling until Leroy comes back on the line.

"And you two definitely need to talk and sort things out."

Rachel shakes her head at this. "No, I don't even want to see her right now. She really hurt me and I- She just was not the same person last night that asked me to marry her."

"The thing is, we all become people we don't recognize when we're upset. That's all the more reason to talk to her. Because honestly honey, that doesn't sound at all like the Quinn we all know. That girl stopped people from just looking at you funny in grade school. It's hard to picture her raising her voice. So there must have been a good reason."

"What good reason is there to yell?!" Rachel yells.

"Well, I don't mean a 'good' reason," Leroy back tracks. And Hiram speaks up, "but there has to be a reason. Probably more than what she's saying to you. It's possible she was just taking her anger out on you, but it may have nothing to do with you."

Rachel deflates and puts her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands as she stares around at the bustling park. It's just after 10 a.m. and the park is teeming with runners, mothers, children, and pooping pets.

"Well, that's not fair either. And if there was something bothering her, she should've told me."

"You're probably right honey. But you'll never know until you talk to her," Leroy says gently.

"Yes, talk to her. Don't yell, don't raise your voice or accuse her of anything. Just ask her if there's something wrong," Hiram chimes in.

"And I've found that it also never hurts to ask if there's anything you can do or should do that would make things better or easier for her. From what it sounds like, she may be a little overwhelmed taking care of everything—"

"But she doesn't have to! I never asked her to take care of every little thing!"

"Okay, and definitely don't do that." Hiram laughs along with Leroy. "Don't interrupt her when she's speaking or she won't feel comfortable opening up. Just listen."

Rachel sighs. One of her greatest struggles is just listening.

"I know you don't necessarily ask her to do all the things she does for you Rachel, but if we're going to be perfectly honest,"

"And we just want to make it clear that we are your fathers and we love you no matter what," Leroy yells into the phone.

"You caaaaan be a bit needy at times."

"But I—" But Hiram quickly silences her.

"No, Rachel, listen to me. We know you don't always mean to, put sometimes that neediness creates in others the desire to please you. Especially Quinn. She has always been like that. You demand perfection as a part of everyday life, imagine how Quinn must feel about that. She might feel as though she has to be the perfect friend, and now the perfect fiancé just to meet your standards."

There is a long silence.

"I'm done now Rachel, you can speak." They both share a laugh, but Rachel does not.

"But daddies, I don't need her to be perfect. I demand it from myself but not necessarily her."

"Well, you should communicate that to her Rachel."

"Yeah, probably." Rachel leans back on the bench.

"Listen sweetie. You and Quinn are going to work this out. You will. But you both having some things you need to work on, especially before you walk down the aisle. SO, I would suggest you call Quinn, set up a time to talk and do what you do best. Talk about everything you've told me. Tell her every single thing you're feeling. And then when you're done, let her do the same. With no interruptions. Okay?"

"Okay daddy." None of that sounds like fun to Rachel.

"And whatever you do, don't get up from that conversation until you've worked things out. Your father and I have learned that if we say we'll finish it later, we never do."

"Okay dad. Thank you. Thank you both so much."

"No problem baby girl. We love you, okay?"

"Yes, and call us when everything is settled."

"I will. Love you too!"

They both shout a few more love you's into the phone before finally Rachel just has to hang up.

Sometimes they can be a bit much, but she's glad she answered their call. She needed to hear those things. But even still, she's not ready to talk to Quinn. She does send her a quick text to let her know she's alive, but then she turns off her phone and takes a walk around the park.

She has called every single person Rachel knows. Which turns out to be less than she thought. She has begged them shamelessly for information that they don't have. Apparently, no one knows where Rachel is. Not even Brittany. Even after numerous threats, Brittany still hadn't caved, which most likely meant that she knew nothing.

"If I find out you're withholding information, I will take Lord Tubbington somewhere you will never find him and he will pay for your lies, do you understand me, Brittany?

Brittany had been terrified and Quinn would've felt awful under any other circumstances but right now, she is finding it difficult to think about anyone but Rachel.

It's been almost two days since Rachel texted her to say that she was at least alive.

Quinn had been relieved to receive that message and immediately responded by calling her but there had been no answer. In fact, it had gone straight to voicemail. Rachel had texted her, then turned her phone off. Which was a clear indicator to Quinn that she didn't want to talk. And she had understood two days ago.

But now, she's downright sick with worry. Now she has no idea where Rachel is or if she's okay and like Rachel a few nights ago, she is picturing all of the things that could happen to a beautiful girl out alone at night in a city like this. She hasn't slept. She has barely eaten. And she probably looks as bad as she feels.

She hasn't moved from the couch in almost 24 hours. Her phone is charging through her laptop because the cord isn't long enough to be plugged in and still within arm's reach. She's been lying here, waiting for Rachel to text. Or call. Or, most preferably, come home.

But so far, nothing.

That is, until her phone rings loudly. She has a special ringtone for Rachel, Rachel singing 'For Good' and so she knows immediately that it is not Rachel calling. But she sits up and looks at the caller ID anyway. She decides to answer because what else is there to do.

"Hi Annie."

Her heart is filled with warmth as she hears the soothing voice of her childhood caretaker.

"Lucy." Annie is the only one that can get away with still calling her Lucy, a habit she never quite fell out of after Quinn asked to be called by her middle name when she started high school. "Have you heard from Rachel yet?"

Quinn sighs. "No, nothing since her text to say she was alive." Quinn is a fair mix between worried and irritated.

Annie sighs. "Okay well, I'm sure she's okay. She's probably just taking some time to breathe."

"It's been two days Annie, she's had plenty of breathing room."

"Well, Lucy, after the things you said, Rachel deserves to take as much time as she needs, don't you think?"

Quinn hangs her head in shame and runs her hand across her face with her free hands as Annie puts her back in her place, as always.

"Yes, I know. I was wrong, you've told me Annie." Quinn can't keep the irritation out of her voice. She hates admitting aloud that she's wrong, even when she knows that she is. But Annie has no problem snapping right back at Quinn.

"And I will tell you again and again Lucy. And you will listen like it's your first time hearing it."

Quinn opens her mouth to respond but is quickly silenced by Annie, who apparently isn't done talking.

"I swear, you are so stubborn Lucy Quinn and it drives me up the wall. You and your father are so alike it scares me sometimes." She mumbles that last part, not intending it for Quinn to hear, but she hears anyway and quickly protests.

"I'm nothing like him Annie," she huffs out.

But Annie just scoffs. "Oh, is that so? Because I would need every finger and toe just to count the ways."

Quinn doesn't respond. When she lets herself, she can admit that she and her father are a lot alike. But of course they are, he raised her more or less. He instilled all of his best qualities into her. She doesn't see the problem with that.

"What's so bad about being like him? So I'm stubborn, okay, but I'm hardworking. I'm a problem solver. I'm timely. I put others before myself. What's so bad about that, Annie?"

"Lucy, honey, you know I love you with all of my heart. And I love all of those things about you and about your father. But I have always hoped that you would take in all of his good and none of his bad, but I suppose that's just not possible. Because Lucy, there is a need inside of you to control everything, just like him." She says it so sadly, as if her heart is breaking at the thought.

"No there isnt." But even to her own ears, it sounds ridiculous. Quinn does love having control. Of her life, of her finances, of her future, and sometimes, even the people around her.

"Okay, yes I do. But being in control of a situation is business smart."

Annie laughs at that. "Yes, but Rachel is not a business. She's a person. You don't need to have control over her. Nor should you."

"But I don't want to control her," Quinn says adamantly because of that she is certain.

"You may not want to Quinn…but you do."

"No, I don't. You know how she is, no one can control Rachel Berry."

Annie smirks, knowing very well that this is true. Rachel has always marched to the beat of her own drum.

"Lucy, I don't want you to get upset with me, and this may very well be overstepping some boundaries, but your father probably feels the same as you. He probably has obvious interest in controlling Mrs. Fabray. He probably doesn't even realize that he does. But you see it. I see it. We all see it. He doesn't have to exert power with an iron fist because he exerts it subtlety. Everything he does is just another display of his power. His control. He buys her a big fancy house to live in, so that she spends her days decorating instead of at the office with him, running a company she co-founded. He sells her car every few months and buys her a new one. What he considers a romantic surprise, is more of a reminder that nothing that is hers is really hers. He pays for and stocks her closet with the nicest shoes and clothes you ever did see. And you know your mother, she loves the attention. But…sometimes, she asks for things. Little things. More time together. Less time at the office. More decisions that they can both be a part of. And he always responds the same way." Annie stops talking.

But it's not as if she needs to go on. Because Quinn knows exactly what he says and it sends a chill down her spine. And it is then that she sees what's so bad about being so much like him.

Once, when she was in elementary school, she remembers her mother asking for the whole family to be home by 5 p.m. because she wanted them all to make dinner together. Quinn had easily agreed, still at the age where doing things with her parents was synonymous with having the time of her life, but her father had been much less enthusiastic. He had immediately complained that he had far too much to do at the office to come home just to help with dinner. There was silence in between them for a few minutes before Russell had instructed Quinn to go get her backpack for school. But before Quinn had even reached the stairs, she had heard raised voices. Her parents didn't fight often and the yelling almost intrigued her, so she crept back towards the kitchen to hear better.

"Russ, all I want is a nice quiet evening. You haven't been home in time for dinner in three days," Judy says meekly.

"Judy, believe me, I would much rather be here with you and Lucy. But I have to work honey. This house and those clothes and Luce's piano lessons don't pay for themselves. You know that."

"Yes, I know that Russ. But don't you think they can survive one night without you?"

Her father sighs loudly. "I don't understand you sometimes. You love this house and your car. You love the vacations and the yachts and the thousand dollar champagne. You love to shop and spoil Lucy. Yet you don't appreciate the work I do to provide you with all of these things. Why can you never just say 'thank you'? Why is everything I do never enough?"

He doesn't yell it at her. His voice is calm and almost sad. He cups his wife's face and looks her in the eye when he asks her virtually the same question that she asked Rachel. Except she had yelled it. With venom on her tongue and so much anger in every word.

And yet again, she feels shame. So much so that she wants to cry.

She is like her father in so many ways, but not all of them are positive.

"Lucy?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You're not your father, you know?"

She doesn't believe that though. Because as she replays Friday night over and over again in her mind, she is him.

Telling Rachel to be more grateful. Telling Rachel to just say 'thank you' for everything she does that Rachel never even asked her to do.

Her mother hadn't asked for that house. Or the cars or the boats or the vacations or the shoes or clothes. He had handed all of those things to her of his own free will, so to hold it over her head after the fact was so incredibly unfair. And when her mother had asked for something, something simple and entirely manageable, he had made her feel guilty for wanting more, as if what he had provided wasn't enough.

And she is disgusted with him in an instant. And then disgusted with herself.

Because that's what she had done to Rachel. She had taken care of all of Rachel's visible needs without being asked then got upset when Rachel had asked for more of the things she actually wanted.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she not see what she was doing? How could she not hear the stupidity and the insensitivity of her words? How did she end up just like him?

The only thing that pulls her away from mentally berating herself is Annie's voice tearing through her thoughts.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, you listen to me. Are you listening?"

Quinn makes a small sound to acknowledge that she is, in fact, listening.

"Lucy, I have watched you grow up every single day for more than 15 years. I have watched you grow from a pudgy little girl into a beautiful young woman. And yes, maybe you picked up a few unsavory habits from that father of yours, but you are by no means him. You are the sweetest thing I've ever met and even though you said some unkind things to Rachel, I know you didn't mean them. And that's the difference between you and your father. You didn't meant to hurt her, Lucy, I know that."

Quinn is a wreck at this point and just barely gets the words out clearly.

"I didn't. I didn't mean to be so cruel. But now she won't even talk to me. She doesn't even want to come home because of what I said."

"Well, Lucy, I'm sorry but that is the product of your behavior. And you can't get upset when you realize that your actions have consequences. The way you treated her the other day has led to a loss of trust. She trusted you to treat her with kindness and respect and did you do that?"

Quinn knows by now that when Annie asks her a question, she's expected to respond. It's not rhetorical.

"No," she cries out.

"That's right, you didn't." Annie's voice is gentle but stern. "And so she may not feel safe coming home again until that trust is restored. But the good news is that it can be restored Lucy. If you're willing to put in the work that it takes to earn her trust back."

"I am." Quinn's voice is strong, knowing that she is prepared to do whatever it takes to earn Rachel's forgiveness.

"Well then sweetie. That's all that matters. Messing up may be a normal occurrence. Though I hope it's not, I don't have time to be on the phone doling out advice every day."

Quinn laughs a little and finds that she feels better already.

"Just remember, it's not your problems that define your relationship, it's how you handle them. No one cares about the falling down. It's all about whether you choose to get back up or not. Do you understand me, Lucy?"

"I understand," Quinn's voice is clear now that she has forced herself to stop crying. She has no excuse for the tears because Annie is right. She messed up, big time, but she's going to fix it.

If it can even be fixed.

But Quinn forces herself not to think like that.

"Good, alright now, I'm going to let you go. We have some guests coming over tonight so your mother will need some help preparing dinner."

"Okay, Annie." But just as Quinn is about to say goodbye, she thinks of one last thing.

"Wait, Annie! How…how is my mom doing?"

Annie smiles despite that fact that Quinn cannot see it. "She's doing well. She's a strong woman Lucy. You don't have to worry about her."

Quinn nods. Annie is probably right. Her mom has been dealing with her dad for decades so surely she is used to his behavior by now, which is a sad thought in itself.

"Yeah, okay. Well, tell her I love her. And I miss her, please," Quinn speaks softly over the line.

"Of course Lucy. And she misses you too you know."

Quinn finds that hard to believe as she still hasn't called her directly, but she doesn't want to argue with Annie over it.

"Okay, well, I'll talk to you later Annie. Thank you for the lecture." There is a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but mainly gratefulness.

"Anytime Ms. Lucy. Goodbye."

Quinn pulls the phone down from her ear and leans back onto the couch, taking in everything that Annie has told her.

She feels better now than she has since she found her key and Rachel's note on the table. She is ready to talk to Rachel, ready to make things right.

She is just contemplating whether she should try calling Rachel again or if she should let it be and give her her space when she hears a faint shuffling noise behind her. She turns her head to find the source of the noise and nearly jumps out her skin when she spots it.

Her hearts stops beating and speeds up all at once.

"Rachel."

######

Please don't hate me for leaving it there! I actually was just so happy and overwhelmed by all of your amazing reviews that I had to get you guys something before I left town for the rest of the week! You guys seriously made my heart smile with all of your kind comments and that largely inspired me to push this chapter out. I know it's not the promised sexy times, but that should come next, when we finally start to see them work things out. But this one won't be easy fix, so prepare yourselves for that. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter and I will see you guys sometime next week! I also apologize for any mistakes in my haste. I'll edit when I get the chance. Until next time! :D

Title by Us The Duo