And here's a little Quintis/Happy. I don't think I've ever spent a chapter in Happy's head before.


In all the years they'd been together, Toby had never fallen asleep on top of her, so when he drifted off, his head on the pillow beside her, her body still pinned beneath his, Happy put a hand to her mouth and began to giggle.

Her other arm slid around him, resting on his bare back, her palm pressing against his skin. She liked when he fell asleep so quickly after they slept together, as he often did. He'd had difficulty falling asleep in the past and had often turned to medication to help – once with near disastrous results for their relationship. With her, he was capable of staying conscious long into the night, as they cuddled and whispered to each other, but when she almost liked it better when he fell asleep quickly. It meant he was content. Relaxed. At ease. Five years together and she still couldn't believe that her presence had that kind of effect on him, that her skin against his was enough to remove the tension from his mind. Paige deserved every ounce of credit she got for her ability to get Walter out of his head, but at times it was just as difficult to accomplish with Toby. Happy simultaneously prided herself on it and wondered how in the world, out of all the people in existence, she had the capability of getting him like this, completely tranquil.

He began to feel heavier as he relaxed, and she grunted in discomfort, removing her hand from his back to put on the mattress beside her, pushing herself up and onto her side, rolling his body off of her. She could tell by the way his head and arm moved limply that his sleep hadn't been disturbed by the motion.

"You're such a dork," she whispered affectionately, shifting her weight to rest her head on his chest. She reached her arm across him, grabbing his wrist, and drawing it up over his stomach so she could reach his hand and curl her fingers around it.

Tensions had been high at the garage the past week, which was odd, considering no one was fighting. It was a strange, but just as unwelcome, kind of tension. Paige was, uncharacteristically, a nervous wreck over the outcome of next week's pregnancy test. Sylvester, from what Happy could tell, was feeling guilty over ever allowing her to attempt surrogacy and get herself into that anxious state – one that he knew too well, and hated the idea of his friends experiencing. Walter was distracted by the wince that appeared on Paige's face every time she sat down or leaned against something – the daily shots she was getting had her in seemingly constant pain. And although none of them said anything, Happy knew that she and Toby's disappointment over the adoption process seemingly stalling were only a part of the quiet dissatisfaction going through the garage. Ralph was acting oddly too, offering less information about his schooling than he used to, and clamming up when anyone asked him about his friends. Lay off him for a bit, she'd suggested to Paige when the older woman mentioned that it was concerning her. Truth be told, it wasn't like Ralph to get like that, but they were all in somewhat unique situations recently, and Happy thought he might be responding to that. He's fifteen, his brain processes differently than most people. He's just adjusting to growing up. She'd been reading a lot about children's behavior lately. She knew her experiences in the foster care system weren't all encompassing, and she had to be ready for anything. That's what a good mother would do, take any situation she was given in stride, be loving, accepting, but firm at the same time.

She had never met her mother, but she knew that's what Grace would have been like. She could be accused of idealizing, of building up in her head what she knew she could never be proven wrong on, but this feeling was solid. This feeling was as good as fact.

Happy tipped her head; she could barely see it in the night, but she knew the silhouette by the window was the picture of Grace, seven months pregnant, her hands on her belly, her smile impossibly wide. Happy sighed, her voice escaping past her lips, barely audible.

"I'm going to make you proud, Mom." I'm going to be the kind of mom I know you'd have been.