Sorry that it's been so long...sadly, writing isn't my career so sometimes I have to be a decent student. Enjoy.

Sam P.O.V.

Chapter 14

The holiday season passed all too quickly and once again, I found myself working seemingly endless hours at ENCOM, preparing for the yearly conference with our worldwide partners. Quorra's hours mirrored mine and would continue with this schedule until Caltech started the spring term in late March. She'd decided against attending the winter term, saying that she wanted to adjust to common doctors visits so she wouldn't take on too much at once.

I was glad that she'd made this decision. We had more free time and we'd already planned out three vacations before she had to go back in March, one of which would be a skiing trip in Whistler, which I was probably most excited about.

The first Saturday though, we'd abandoned our weekly movie marathon for our planned trip to the doctor to start running tests on Quorra. She'd been a silent but nervous wreck during the entire car ride, fidgeting with everything.

"It's going to be okay, Q," I'd promised as I squeezed her shoulder and got out of the car, met her on the other side of the car and wrapped a reassuring arm around her.

"Easy for you to say," she'd mumbled as she shrugged, almost pushing herself out of my embrace.

And she was right, I wasn't in her position. Sure, I was nervous for her but I'd known how nervous, fearful even, she'd been for the past few days, stuck in her own whirlwind of thoughts.

Lora had separated us after mere minutes of being in the doctors office. "No distractions," she'd said, pointed directly at me before guiding me out of the cold room that Quorra sat in, swinging her feet swiftly as she stared down at her hands.

To say that we'd all been apprehensive for nothing was probably the understatement of the year, decade even. She'd exceeded all expectations that my father had for her, endlessly written in his journal about, and confounded us all.

She could really do it, really change the world, reshape the human condition.

I watched Lora practically dance around the room with excitement, moving from multiple microscopes, petri dashes to contaminated blood tubes, watched as her blood applied corrections to destroy a strain of AIDS and influenza in minutes.

"This is impossible," she'd murmured, shocked as her and the middle aged scientist scribbled down notes and murmured amongst one another.

I'd sat in a corner with Alan, occasionally would look at something that Lora beckoned me for, and contemplated what was going to happen next because that seemed to be the question of the day with her.

She'd be able to help people, just like she wanted in the first place. She'd be able to change lives through the perfect strand of DNA that she boasted.

But that worried me, more than I'd ever imagined it would. The fate of billions of people fell on the shoulders of one ISO, not thousands like my father had originally planned. That was more than far fetching, whether any of us wanted to admit it or not.

And despite the test results that still ceased to amaze all of us, she was still very human, very fragile in her own kind of way.

We were reminded of this obvious fact when Anthony, one of the doctors that Lora had trustingly brought onto the team, walked through the laboratory door with an empty silver tray with foreign medical utensils scattered on it.

"Let's call it a day," he'd murmured calmly as he placed the tray on the counter, turned to look at Lora, then myself. "She's not wanting to admit it but she's exhausted."

Lora nodded, understanding filling her light green eyes. "Is she alright?" she'd asked and if she hadn't, I would have because Quorra was rarely one to be tired. If the sun was up, she was up and she'd be up all day long, sometimes even all night long.

Anthony nodded, grabbed an orange juice from the small refrigerator at the edge of the room. "She's asking for you, give her this."

I sighed, somewhat relieved after being in this office for most of the day. I stood then but Lora's gaze caught mine before I could make my silent dash out of the room.

"Sam," she said, paused before looking around the room slowly. She suddenly looked exhausted from where she stood, the lighting illuminating the tired lines on her face. "She's not going to be a science experiment," she murmured as she wiped something down, pulled a glove off. And honestly, she didn't have to say this statement out loud because we'd talked, disputed this on multiple occasions in the past few months but I couldn't help but feel the relief that swarmed throughout me anyway. "But…you have to keep in mind, we only have one shot at this," she added, gave me a somewhat stern look.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, frowned a bit. "I know, Lora. I get it," I stated, glanced at the three strangers that moved about the room skeptically.

"You can trust them, Sam," she'd told me, started to smile but stopped as she gave me another stern look. "What I'm saying is, don't be selfish with her," she stated.

I rolled my eyes at her. "That's easy for you to say, you're not the one that's in love with her," I said quietly, reached for the door.

She looked at me softly then, almost contemplative. "She'll be okay, we love her too" she murmured thoughtfully before turning and writing something down.

I'd left then, found Quorra and took her home. Saying that she was tired was an understatement, she'd fallen asleep minutes after getting in the car with me. All the conversation I'd try to spark with her was easily turned down as she basically hid her face over her hand as she leaned against the window.

The following morning, I'd found Quorra curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around her legs and Marvin sitting in her lap, her hand slowly rubbing the space between his ears.

I could smell coffee in the morning air, slowly walked into the kitchen to see a mug full of my favorite coffee sitting on the warming plate on the coffee maker.

"Is this for me?" I murmured, picked it up slowly in case it was hot, and breathed in deeply.

She laughed softly. "Well, I don't drink dark roast," she reminded me, moved her legs slightly as I came to join her on the couch. "Good morning."

"Morning," I echoed, my gestures showing my appreciation for the warm cup of coffee. "How long have you been up?"

She made a considering noise, glanced out the window at the sunlight that was falling in. "Since sunrise," she responded as she picked Marvin up barely and set him on the hardwood flooring beside the couch. He whined before disappearing down the hallway.

"You should've gotten more sleep," I told her as I set the mug down, reached out for her and pulled her towards me. "You look tired."

She leaned her forehead against mine and I wrapped my arms around her torso. "I couldn't go back to sleep," she admitted as she pulled back slowly, looked at me carefully.

"What?" I asked, wiped my mouth to see if there was a coffee mustache. She breathed a laugh.

She bit her lip and I watched as her ethereal blue eyes sparkled gently. "I've come to a realization," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, have you?"

"Yes."

I pinched her sides, waited for her to say something but she didn't. I frowned at her, nudging her with my head playfully. "Well, don't keep me waiting."

She bit her lip and ran her fingers over the side of my face, exhaled a bit. "I'm in love with you, Sam Flynn," she breathed softly.

I couldn't help but grin, I really couldn't and I could feel this surge of excitement and relief swarm inside of me, warm me to my very core. "Are you now?" I asked, tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"I am," she murmured. "I have been for a while," she admitted as she smiled at me nervously. "I don't know…I'd never experienced feeling this before, I wanted to be sure."

I knew that she'd been contemplating this, really. From her occasional silence and perplexed expression when I told her I loved her to the excessive amount of magazines that focused on relationships that piled up on the island, I knew something was up but didn't really feel like saying anything. That was her war to fight and I was going to let her figure that one out on her own.

I hugged her closer, kissed her gently. "I love you too," I murmured and of course, she already knew that. "Does this mean we can stop with the chick flicks and reading Shakespeare's plays together?" I questioned, squeezed her sides playfully.

She laughed. "Chick flicks are amazing," she disagreed. "And I like listening to you read."

"Well, can we at least stop making my island counter look like the home of a teenage girl?" I asked, motioned towards the counter.

She nodded. "Yeah okay. They weren't that helpful anyway," she murmured, positioned herself so that she was curled up in my lap. "Teen Vogue says that Justin Bieber is my soul mate and that my personality resembles one of Alice Cullen from Twilight, which isn't too terrible because she was probably my favorite from the Saga, but how do they know these things?" she rambled as her eyes widened.

I laughed, remembered my fair dose of celebrity quizzes when I was in high school. "I'll trash them as soon as I get up," I told her, pressed my lips against her temple as I heard a rumbling noise come from her. "Sounds like someone's hungry."

"You promised your signature breakfast today," she reminded me, laughed a bit. "I really want pancakes, turkey bacon too."

I chuckled. "You should've told me," I mumbled as I shifted, pulled her up with me and guided her into the kitchen. "But last time I checked, you knew how to make yourself breakfast," I teased her as I picked her up and placed her on the counter. Her legs wrapped around me before I could step back enough.

"I know but I like your breakfasts better," she stated with a shrug.

I let my hands run over her bare legs before unclasping them at the ankles. I leaned in to kiss her quickly before pulling away, began to rummage through the kitchen. "Then I better get to it."

"And milkshakes," she proclaimed.

"For breakfast?"

"Yes, I have been contemplating that it be a new tradition," she murmured and when I glanced over at her, she was stretching out her torso.

I chuckled. "Why? Because you need an excuse to fit ice cream into another meal time or because you're trying to tear me away from my precious coffee?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a bit of both. Coffee really Is bad for you," she told me. "And…I like our traditions, so why not add another?"

And I couldn't argue with that point in the slightest.

Tell me what you though, but seriously. Also, let me know if you have a prompt idea for a chapter. I love writing people's ideas and making them come to life in writing if I can. It's fun.

Anyways, let me know what you though, please! Thanks for reading as always!