A/N: Here's the second and last part of All Year Round. Thanks for the seven reviews I got on this. And HAPPY LATE QUOGAN DAY. Enjoy, and get ready to squee. I decided to keep this in the canon world, because I feel like that today. Everything is CANON, alrighty? Towards the end, it'll change a little bit.
Disclaimer: Nah, I merely make them do my bidding. That goes to Dan Schneider.
All Year Around
[2/2]
VII. July
Academic excellence is a huge part of Quinn Pensky's life and ultimately her very essence.
Pamphlets from Stanford University, a complete and a quite thick package with a Stanford sweatshirt in her size arrives in the mail on Sunday. She'll be leaving Seattle to venture into the world of undergraduate neuroscience and it's very daunting. It usually out of character for Quinn to be scared and exhibits any apprehensive behavior. However, the saying does say there's a first time for everything. For the first time in six months, Quinn is able to get over the passing of Otis even though he crosses her mind all the time.
For once, Quinn is actually feeling apprehensive about the thought of being a college student. It's not really the workload because Quinn is quite organized and can manage it, but it's really the idea of suddenly being thrust into unfamiliar territory. At least, she knows she'll excel and be deeply involved in the medical field as a neurosurgeon.
Planting the stack of pamphlets on her desk littered with various scientific calculations and future scientific endeavors Quinn has yet to explore, she collapses on her bed, allowing the softness of her duvet to caress her. The bedroom ceiling looks like that of a gentle kaleidoscope – colours merging and blended together like a tie-dye T-shirt. The wall closest to her bedroom door is polka-dotted. A distraction in the form of a gentle knocking on her bedroom appears.
"Come in, Dad!"
Quinn knows her father is the only parent home, because her mother runs errands and one of them is getting chamomile tea from a herbal shop. Tearing her bespectacled gaze from the framed photo of her boyfriend, she becomes aware of the door opening and of Stephen's presence.
"Ah, so you're not up for crunching the numbers of displaced taxes," Stephen tries to joke but to no avail judging by the look Quinn sends him in return.
"Dad, you're not funny."
"You could at least humour me."
"Sorry," replies Quinn, through a small, apologetic smile. Quinn sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of her bed and Stephen plants himself next to his daughter, even though he doesn't have to pry at all. Quinn sees her father as one with the hard business-like exterior, but one with a silly interior and a parental gentleness.
"Humour's never been a forte of mine anyway, but I've always been a dad," the accountant muses, hand comfortingly on his daughter's knee. " – so with that in mind, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You sure? Because I know it's been six months, and Otis was a big chunk of your – "
"No, that's not it at all. I've learned to cope with that," Quinn replies, softly while cutting her dad off semi-gently. A heavy sigh escapes her with valid reason. After all, there's just daunting change staring her in the face. It's not as traumatizing as staring down the barrel of a gun, per say, but it's quite a feat for Quinn to digest when she has to leave in late August for Stanford. "It's just that I'm probably one of the most adaptable people ever, and the idea of being thrust into new surroundings just outright terrifies me."
"Yeah, well, not to quote The Lion King, but that's the circle of stage, Quinn. It's pretty scary for your mother and myself because we're heading towards the Empty Nest Stage," Stephen says while his face takes on a pensive thoughtful look. Breaking out into a gentle smile, Quinn settles in the feeling of her father's lips placed in the dark brown tresses she inherited from him. "Quinn, you're going to be great. You'll adapt, but promise me something?"
"Sure," Quinn complies, pulling away from Stephen's grasp. "Anything."
"Promise me you'll come home when there's leeway for you to do so. I still have to wrap my head around my baby leaving for college."
Quinn presses her lips to Stephen's cheek and says with a resolute sigh, "Let's get started on those displaced taxes. After all, it's a father-daughter effort, right?"
"Right," Stephen answers, with a full-on grin, before takes a quick glance at the framed photo on Quinn's night stand. "From just meeting Logan at graduation, he looks like a good guy and he seems to like you a lot."
Quinn feels her cheeks get a tinge of pink, but wastes no time in defending her boyfriend's character.
"He does. And the feeling's mutual. Very much so."
"That's good to hear," Stephen says, and sighs. "But if he hurts you, and I'll deal with him. Painfully. He looks like the type that's squeamish when it comes to math."
"Dad," Quinn giggles, as they walk out of her bedroom slash laboratory. "I thought you weren't trying to be humorous."
"Oh, honey. I'm not," Stephen replies, tone serious, and shrugs. "He'll be treated the same way as a piñata. Now, let's get to those numbers, shall we?"
"Okay."
Quinn glances at the photo one last time, before closing the door behind her.
VIII. August
August 8, 2009 12:23 PST
From: Scigrrl
To: LoganRulez
Hey baby. Just got back from visiting my cousin, Sarah, in Tocoma. I'm dead tired. I'm aware it's about noon-ish, but we spent two days there. For once, it didn't rain in Seattle, and I thought of you.
I miss you. A lot.
Love,
Quinn
August 11, 2009 14:34 PST
From: LoganRulez
To: Scigrrl
I miss you too.
I told you I was living with my mom for the summer since she lives closer to Berkeley, right? Apparently, it's some trial run and I get to choose. I mean, it won't matter since I'll drive from my dad's house as well, but…parents. They're weird and mine are crazy. Well, I'm sitting here and it's funny because it's raining here, and then I thought of Seattle which made me think of you. And the fact that you'd probably make me dance around in it barefoot or something.
But yeah, I just want summer over so you could be in California again.
Love,
Logan
August 15, 2009 13:45 PST
From: Scigrrl
To: LoganRulez
Oh, the weather is totally weird over there. Makes me want to study California weather patterms, but I'm cutting back on reading during summer vacation. It's not significant, but I went to a bookstore and just glanced. Lol.
And I probably would make you dance in the rain with me, even though I'd be logical and consider the cold and pneumonia factor, but yeah, I probably would. And you'd totally enjoy it. I think it's sweet that your parents look after you even though they're divorced. Not many people are like that. It feels suffocating. Remember, I don't have any siblings either.
I miss you too. A lot.
Remember when you came down to Seattle like two weeks ago because of your father's movie? My grandmother was like, "When's Logan comin' back, sweetheart?" In short, she seems really fond of you, my mom adores you, and my dad approves.
Okay, I've got a confession to make: he told me that if you made me unhappy an d hurt me, he'd treat like a piñata.
But it's okay. My family approves. And you already know how I feel about you.
I have to run out on a couple errands and buy a new microscope because it broke.
Love,
Quinn
PS. I've also been toying with the idea of contacts.
August 19, 2009 22:00 PST
From: LoganRulez
To: Scigrrl
If I didn't love my face, I'd be banging it against the wall. Over and over.
So, the annual Reese Family Reunion was two days ago.
Usually, it's this thing where all of my cousins, aunts and uncles that are practically spilled all over California come together and it's like this whole big party thing. For example, there's my cousin, Whitney who's from Valencia. She's like my sister because we were born in the same year but I'm older. My cousin, Angela who lives in Pasadena and my other cousin, Amy. She lives in Malibu. The youngest between all twenty cousins would be Lucy. She's two.
I'm not gonna go into details because every year I end up having memories I want, and ones I don't want. Again, if I didn't think I wasn't hot and perfectly made, I would have end up kicking a tree. But I've had broken toes before and I don't really want to deal with it.
So, in one hour, this is what happened:
My mom and grandmother don't like each other, and it was about to turn into a smackdown. Now, here's the scary part. My dad actually steps in and is all, "Stop. You can't continue treating her like this, and I won't stand for it anymore. She's the mother of your oldest grandson blah blah blah."
He totally defended her, and Amy was all, "That's right, Uncle Malcolm! You defend your woman! Uh, sorry Gran!"
Amy's a little dense. And by little, I mean, her and Nicole would get along great. The only way I know we're related is that the fact that we have short attention spans. But when she's wasted, she's okay.
So, my dad lets his mom have it. My mom looks shocked, and I'm gabberflasted…uh, flabbergasted.
Whatever. You know what I mean.
But you'd think my Gran would totally be pissed off, and snap because she can totally do that, but she just looked between my parents, smirked and said, "It's about time you defended her. You grew a backbone, Malcolm. Finally."
I'm still kind of grossed out because I had Coke in my mouth, and it totally went down the wrong way.
Why? Because my mom kissed my dad. And he kissed her back.
Total prom moment except I had my cousin Brent whacking my back so, you know, I don't die. That would make you sad, if I left due to shock.
And then they argued on whose driving was worse.
I hope you're ready to take my last name and everything that goes with it.
I'm gonna crash, babe. Late.
Logan
PS. Your family's pretty chill. And to your dad's terms: Ouch. But when I have a daughter, I'll be tempted to bust a few kneecaps myself. The dude's kneecaps.
PPS. NO! You're not allowed to have contacts. You're sexy the way you are ;)
August 25, 2009 10:47 PST
From: Scigrrl
To: LoganRulez
Aw, I'm happy your parents reconciled, I'm assuming that's the case.
I'm currently preparing to come back to California, because of Stanford.
I'm writing this on my Blackberry Touch, because my laptop's battery is low, and the charger is packed away. I'm anticipating landing and seeing you at the airport. While I love Seattle and everything associated with it, I missed California and you. God, I really missed you.
I'm boarding right now. So, I have to go, unfortunately.
Lol, did you just hint at a subtle proposal? Because if you did, I wouldn't mind it. In four years.
I love you. It's as simple as that :)
-Quinn
PS. Ah, you're sweet. When you want to be. But you're pretty easy on my eyes anyhow, so I'm ruling contacts out. Happy?
August 25, 2009 11:18 PST
From: LoganRulez
To: Scigrrrl
A bouquet of yellow tulips are right here for you, babe. I'm writing on my phone too, well new one since it fell in the pool, but I managed to save the SIM card chip thing.
I'm gonna go, but I miss you too, and apparently my mom does too. My dad's sorta in the loop. My parents are just…weird. They're holding hands, doing all of that couple-y stuff, and arguing at the same time…just yeah, they're weird. Don't ask.
Oh, you know you so wanna be my wife. The idea of eloping's kinda hot, but you're all organized and traditional, so I'll wait to propose. In two and a half years. Take it or leave it, which actually means take it because leaving it is NOT cool.
Love,
Logan
PS. Yes. Very happy. You don't need contacts with your eyes. ;) I'll be happier when you get here.
August 25, 2009 12:56 PST
From: Scigrrrl
To: LoganRulez
Turn around and kiss me already.
I'm the happy one overjoyed to be back ;) I really did miss you. I agree to your "condition", ha.
-Quinn
August 25, 2009 12:57 PST
Do you not know me at all? I'm SO there! Your lips, I mean.
Missed you too, and now I'll stop texting because you're right in front of me, and it looks weird.
-Logan
It's irony playing all around them, as an old version of Kiss Me playing as idle airport music, as others wait for the loved ones to get on and off of various flights. The strangers totally have to be jealous of him right now.
It's definitely not for his good, I-should-be-arrested-for-being-attractive looks, but Logan Reese doesn't have to wait anymore. The object of his affections is right here with him, sharing in a long overdue kiss with him, and God, it feels amazing.
IX. September
Quinn appreciates the quiet times.
She appreciates the small intervals of quiet silence, away from Stanford's large and bustling campus. The moments where she can stay away from the most advanced laboratory she has seen in her life and peel away from the lab coat are moments she treasures. Quinn likes it when she can get away from her roommate, Lindsey. It's not because she's overbearing, and irritating because she really isn't. With blue eyes, and shoulder-length hair, Lindsey is vibrant and provides her with a laugh at the time when Quinn is on the brink of being frustrated or stressed.
"I'm going to flirt with Adam, and pray he's not gay."
"Adam who?"
"Oh, you know. The really fine hottie who runs the coffee stand on the north side of campus. Those brown eyes," Lindsey sighs, dreamily while Quinn fights the amused smile from crossing her features, using the large textbook to cover it. Tucking a strand of red hair behind her cartilage pierced ear, she flashes a hundred watt smile at her roommate.
Quinn sighs, lifting her eyes from the page of neurology textbook, "Don't you have an English paper and that lab assignment?"
"Yeah. My lab thing is three-quarters done, and my English paper needs to be edited because it's all typed already," the freckled red-head explains, nonchalantly. "You know how it is. Shakespeare's my homeboy."
"Ah, I see."
"Yep," Lindsey grins. "So, I'm off to date the coffee guy even though he doesn't know it yet."
But there comes a time when Quinn needs to think.
Her roommate is gone, so it's quiet. Tapping her nail against a glass mug, Quinn closes her textbook, putting away the coloured highlighters. Quinn sips the very green tea, steam rising from the cup as thin white streaks twist and intertwine with each other. There are a lot of things jumbled in her mind, and it's little things that trigger this: the heart-shaped locket that overlaps her other more vibrant and colorful necklaces, the boy she's come to love exactly 32.7 miles away from her.
It's one of the few things Quinn can't really can't fathom or comprehend.
Dr. Jamieson, her neurology professor, almost cries when Quinn demonstrates her intelligence. So, there's a lot of that. But she doesn't see being Logan Reese's girlfriend in her foresight. Ever. She sometimes needs to remind herself that is the same boy that teases her effortlessly, making her want to cry and hurt him anyhow she knows how.
And there are a lot of painful methods.
And then she has to remind herself of the uncharacteristic sweet, and concerned boy on that bench as they sit on that fateful wooden bench, and how sweet Logan Reese can really be. He showers her with his brand of love and attention, and the mere thought makes her stomach fills out many butterflies flouncing around after bursting out of their cocoons.
He's so complex and multi-faceted. So frustrating and endearing.
Quinn can't believe the physical, emotional and connection they develop. While a bit scary, and daunting, a small smile comes on her face because she knows Logan loves her.
And she loves him just much, Quinn concludes, drinking the last of her green tea.
"Quinn, Quinn, Quinn!" Lindsey squeals, bursting into the condo and closing the door. She looks out of breath, like she's been doing cartwheels and running in jubilation. "Guess what just happened?"
"Uh, you just came upon the realization that Adam is a Gemini."
"How did you know that?"
Quinn laughs, good-naturedly, sitting the ceramic table on the center table, "I didn't."
"Oh," the redhead pauses, before peeling off her shoes and planting herself beside Quinn. The grin returns to her face, and the brunette sees her eyes almost sprinkling. "Anyway, Adam totally asked me out on a date, because he's actually been using the coffee cart to get to know me. So, it's a win-win!"
Smiling softly, Quinn's head is plagued with small thoughts of Logan.
"Well, I'm glad we're both happy."
Maybe the sentence doesn't register in her head, and maybe it doesn't, but either she's hugging Lindsey, and she gets one on return.
But she really is happy.
X. October
"We're lost, are we?"
"No. I think I know where the restaurant is, Quinn."
"No, you don't. Just admit it."
"I'm not admitting it, because we're not lost."
"All I wanted you to do is turn left. I googled the directions just in case. The directions clearly said you should turn left at that exit."
"Quinn, there is no exit."
"That's due to the fact you passed it. I love you but you know you're terrible with directions."
"Okay, name one time!"
"The beach party in eighth grade where you confused north and south."
"There's something called letting go of the past."
"Okay, fine. Last week when once again we were driving to your mom's, and you totally couldn't tell your left from your right…again."
"Maybe it was the retard in front of me who clearly drives with his face!"
"That doesn't even make sense!"
"Yes, it does, Quinn."
"Okay, explain that to me. Please explain how that's actually logical, Logan!"
"Well, if you drive with your face, you're being an idiot and pissing off actual people who can drive! And even killing people because you can't see, duh. Happy with your explanation?"
"You're so – "
"Amazing? Baby, I know."
"Don't charm your way out of this!"
"It's so working."
"Sadly, it is. But that doesn't mean I'm still mad at you."
…
…
"So…wanna make out?"
"You're just lucky you're attractive, and I love you."
"Score! It's a yes, then."
"No. I'm mad at you."
"But you said you loved me. You can't be mad at me."
"Oh, I love you. There's no disputing that, but I'm quite irritated with you, so make it up to me."
"Will this hurt?"
"Probably, but I'm crazy about you, regardless."
"You'd better or I'll be forced to kick Stanford ass. I dig you too."
…
…
"Seriously, though, wanna make out?"
"Get us back, and we'll see, Logan."
XI. November
Logan Reese isn't nervous or the least bit afraid.
No. Because nerves aren't in his system, and in the half an hour, he'll be someone else's husband, bound to one of the realest, most unique people to unexpected walk into his life. He's going to be tied down for life to the one girl who call him on his bullshit, and love him all at once. He's an adult, twenty-three years old and a budding director. He isn't nervous when he runs his father's production company, leading the board meetings when Malcolm can't.
When he proposes, he doesn't really care for going down on knee, while Quinn values tradition and order. Logan actually considers the whole going-down-on-one-knee thing, until tradition ends up with a cold, then brazen unconventional methods with twelve shades of awesome gives leeway.
"Wanna marry me?" he questions, casually, one day while in their first-bought house. It's a moderately-sized house with ivory walls, literally with memories in the form of framed photos. He takes a little velvet box from his box, and opens it. "I saw this ring, and I thought of you. And I did wait two and a half years, so I get brownie pants for that, don't I?" Logan lets a smirk, shine through. "Besides, I handed over production of that movie to my cousin, Brent, so I could be here with you."
Quinn laughs, wavy hair brown clipped up. It's one of the few days, she's actually sick. Her nose is red from a cold, and her voice is hoarse from nursing a slight cough. A bath robe is her choice of attire, with pajamas underneath. Her eyes are behind her glasses and they literally tell him she's oh so tired, but finds the happy gleam in her eyes.
"Logan," Quinn's voice hoarse but happy when she sees the ring – a simple, discreet silver band with little red garnets on each side of a diamond – and she's in love with it on her finger, but she loves her fiancée more. "I'd be honoured to be your wife. If I wasn't sick, I'd kiss you."
Pulling her frame close to him, he smiled gently, "I really don't want to go to work any way for a couple days."
"You know I'm too tired to sleep with you," Quinn returns, playfully with a smile.
Logan feigns defeat with an exaggerated sigh, "Oh, darn."
A delicate hand is placed on his chest and he lightly kisses her hand, and at twenty-three he still has the power to make her blush and taint her cheeks with a soft pink.
"I'm not going to make you sick, so you can skip out on work. As sweet as that is," Quinn presses her lips to his cheek, before she pulls away with a sniffle. "I can't wait to marry you."
"I'm psyched too."
Logan steals that kiss while she sleeps for two reasons: he really can't stand work at the moment, and Quinn is beautiful when she sleeps. The flu is worth it.
Going into the present, Logan's standing there with Heather giving him a reassuring, and bright smile. Clearly she's enjoying her position as mother of the groom, and wedding coordinator. Malcolm's manning the camera, not hiding the fact that he's a proud dad and silently prays Logan doesn't repeat his mistakes. At least, he's lucky to hit a do-over button, but Malcolm loves his son and often feels guilty although no one ever realizes he feels that way.
Logan's standing there with the knowledge that Quinn is right behind those double church doors.
Having his friends back with him also sort of helps: a beaming Michael who lightly claps him on the back in that reassuring way, and long overdue hug from Lisa before the ceremony starts, despite the endearing teenage squabbles, Chase returning with a slight pregnant Zoey, Lola wearing the only blinged out and glamorous maid of honour dress with Vince who cancels an away game to be best man. Not to mention James with a very pregnant Rebecca, who is due any day now.
Not to mention Lindsey, Quinn's roommate from Stanford.
"Dude, you nervous?" Chase stage-whispers.
"Does it look like I'm nervous?"
"Yes," the journalist replies, with a knowing glance. "I'll shut up, and leave you to your anxiety."
Logan feels like hitting Chase, but really doesn't feel like wrecking the whole idea of a church.
There are elephants pounding around in his perfectly-toned stomach, but he's honestly not nervous. He's probably the only person that rocks a white bow-tie and tuxedo to its potential and actually makes it look good – the Logan Reese type of awesomeness.
And then that moment happens.
The Wedding March plays by organ, and Logan sees her looking freaking radiant he can't even begin to rationalize how beautiful she really is. He locks eyes with her, while Quinn is on Stephen's arm. Stupid butterflies are in his stomach and he swears they're screwing with his gag reflexes. But if he manages to throw up his eggs and bacon, it's totally in that I'm-overly-psyched-to-marry-you kind of way.
Stephen plants a kiss on his daughter's forehead when they reach the altar. Taking his daughter's hand, Stephen places it in Logan's as if to actually accept Logan as a son-in-law. Not to say Stephen already doesn't, but he feels a whole degree of gratitude towards him for making Quinn as happy as she is.
The moment Quinn's hand intertwines with his, everything is okay.
And he's totally ready to be Mr. Quinn Pensky, even though he's wanted her to be Mrs. Logan Reese.
XII. December
Dear Santa,
Okay, I'm making my Mommy write this while I talk because I have a lot to say and not enough words yet to write down.
But my mommy is helping me making my words a lot bigger.
I've been good all year. Really, I have. I ate all of my vegetables and stopped feeding then to the dog next door, because I like Rufus. And I didn't get the timeout corner at all this week, even though Liam (the REALLY dumb cootie-face in my class) kept pullin' my hair while it was play time. So, I knocked his castle down, and poured apple juice on his mat so everybody said he had an accident –
"Addison Reese!" Quinn cries in surprise, jaw dropped. "Why would you do something like that?"
"Because he kept buggin' me, and Daddy told me not to kick him in the 'no-no' area," the first grader explains, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And apple juice sort of looks like tinkle, right?"
The neurosurgeon looks at her daughter – light brown curls that are obviously inherited from her father, brown eyes that sparkle when she's most happy or about to cause some schoolyard related mischief. But she's smart, and loves school, which Addie inherits from Quinn. Kids her age are very impressionable but at least Addie heeds some kind of warning and listening to her father, but said father needs to have a talk with Quinn tonight.
Sighing heavily, she laughs lightly at the logic, "I guess, but keep your hands and feet to yourself, honey."
"No promises, Mommy," is her cheeky reply with the smile to match. "Can I finish my letter now?"
"Go on."
"Okay, now where was I?" Addie says, and her little face takes on a look of deep thought before she brightens up and remembers. "Oh, now I remember!"
Liam's my secret friend. So, I say sorry to him, and hug him when no one's looking. For Valentine's he gave me a sparkly card, and it was really shiny. I fake hated it, but I still have it in my special box with that bracelet he made me at arts & crafts time. Don't tell anyone, though. Okay, you can tell Rudolph 'cause of his red nose. Oh, my Mommy knows now. That's cool. Last time, I had a red nose, I was sick, and Mommy made me soup.
But after I got to be in the timeout corner, I said I was really sorry, but got grounded.
I couldn't ride my bike or anything, and that made me sad. But that was a looong time ago, so I'm not sad anymore. I've really been a good girl, Santa. I helped my Nana Heather baked her Doodles, and I got to lick the bowl. And then Grampa took me to work with him because Daddy had grown up things to do, and I couldn't see him, so I got to boss people around. I try to make Mr. Chauncey laugh, but he never does.
That's weird.
I like Grampa's assistant, Cindy. She coloured with me. So, she's my grown best friend. And she brought me juice. I like that.
And I got to use my daddy's megaphone thing. Annnd I have my own director's chair. It's pink and has my name on it.
I went fishing with Grampa Steve in Seattle, and me and Grandma Terri made these shirts all swirly.
Mommy says it's called tie dying. It's fun. And I got to put flowers in my hair and be a hippie girl. But I couldn't walk around barefoot outside like a real hippie 'cause I'll get sick if I do.
"Hmm…" Addie looks to her mother, and sighs. "What else?"
"Well, how about you tell Santa about how you learned to spell your entire name, and how you can count up to twenty now?" Quinn suggests, beaming and plants a kiss in her daughter's hair.
"Okay. I'll do that before I get to the presents."
Ms. Buchanan taught me how to spell my name. My full one. See?
A-D-D-I-S-O-N-M-A-R-I-E-R-E-E-S-E.
That's my full name. And I learned how to count to twenty. Mommy's helping me got past thirty, and teaching me addition and subtraction. It's fun.
Okay, on to presents.
This year, I want a puppy. I'll love him, and play with him and take care of him a lot. And I won't feed him any brussel sprouts, even though it's yucky. I won't do that because it's mean.
Make Daddy work less so he can be more happy and stay home with me and Mommy. Because he's the best daddy in the world, and he's teaching me Italian.
Help Mommy make more people better at the hospital. Sick people make me sad. Especially the one that are gonna go to heaven.
Help Nana Heather make more pretty pictures, and Grampa work less too, because he needs a rest sometimes too. Grampa Steve is funny, and Grandma Terri is fun, but please give them a good Christmas too. I miss them. A whole lot. We're going to see them for New Years in Seattle with snow and everything. But still I miss them.
This much. My arms hurt showing you, so I hope you can see it when you get this letter.
Give Liam another Mighty Man doll thing. I broke the other one when he pulled my doll's head off. But it was mean. I'm sorry, Santa. I already said sorry to Liam.
Say hi to the elves, Mrs. Claus, and the reindeers.
Love,
Addie
PS. My mommy and daddy won't tell me where babies really come from. Do you know?
"Okay, we are done, sweetheart."
"Thank you, Mommy," Addie says, and wraps her little arms around her neck in a hug. "Santa will get it, right?"
"Of course," the older woman assures, and affectionately taps the child's little nose, getting a giggle from her. The distinct sound of a car pulling up the driveway means Logan's home.
There's always one sight that makes Quinn feels like the luckiest person in the world: seeing Addie's face brighten up when she sees Logan in the doorway, and running into Logan's waiting arms.
"I missed you, Daddy."
"I missed you too, Munchkin."
Walking to greet her husband in a kiss, Quinn has everything she could possibly ask for.
Year after year, she's grateful to watch her family and her life blossom into something beautiful.
A/N: And it's done. Ah, I hoped you enjoyed it, even though it's late for Quogan Day. Regardless, it's over, so tell me what you thought of it. Oh, I'm planning my first Y&R oneshot, because honestly, if you're a watcher like me, I've obsessed over it. It's almost reaching the obsessive level of Zoey 101. That soap is HOT right now! If you don't care, then ignore me. But it's my first non-Zoey 101 thing in a while, I'm excited! I have a long livejournal rant coming up and I changed my layout, so yeah, look out for that. Forgive any errors you may see. I'm running on nothing right now. I like Addie right now. If she were real, I'd pinch her cheeks now. Agree?
Okay, America's Best Dance Crew is on! Gotta go!
-Erika
PS. "La La Land" is my theme song right now. For real. That's the most truest song out there.