Santana sat cross-legged on the floor, the colorful blocks spread out in front of her, forming a miniature cityscape. Her goddaughter sat beside her, her tiny hands reaching eagerly for the blocks as she giggled with excitement. She couldn't help but smile as she watched Lucy's enthusiasm, her heart warming at the sight of the little girl's joy.

The memory of the day Isaac and Quinn had asked her to be Lucy's godmother flashed through her mind. She had definitely not cried. Unlike some children who seemed to constantly demand attention, her goddaughter was content in her own world, easily amused and effortlessly endearing.

She had never considered herself particularly maternal but there was something undeniably special about Lucy that melted even the toughest of defenses. Maybe, just maybe, she thought with a small smile, she didn't dislike children as much as she had once believed and as Lucy beamed up at her, her eyes sparkling with delight, Santana knew one thing for certain: being her godmother was a privilege she would cherish forever.

"Everything okay?"

"Do you think I'm doing a good job as a mother?"

"Are you being serious right now?" she exclaimed, setting down a block to give her friend her full attention. "Why would you even doubt that?"

"It's just... Isaac seems to have this special bond with her. When he holds her, she stops crying, but with me..."

"Listen, don't torture yourself over this. It's completely normal for girls to have a stronger attachment to their dads, especially at this age. I never let go of my father when I was Lucy's age according to my mother. That doesn't mean you're a bad mother."

Quinn leaned back, her gaze drifting to the scattered blocks on the floor as she shared her thoughts with Santana. Her daughter played nearby, her small hands working tirelessly to dismantle the block castle she had built.

"Also, he gets up every night, and I hardly even notice. Many times I've found them both sleeping on the living room couch, and she has her crib in our room. What's the point of the crib and our bed if they always end up sleeping everywhere but where they should?"

"Are you…Are you complaining about sleeping instead of getting up at ungodly hours because your daughter is crying? I think you're the first mother I've heard complaining about that."

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

Santana turned her attention back to Lucy, handing another block to her goddaughter, who smiled happily as she took it. "Have you talked about it with him?"

"He says he doesn't care and that I should rest. According to him, now that he's off-season, he has time to spend with her. His coach has given him permission to skip summer training camp."

"Quinn, it's July, relax a little. Enjoy your daughter before you get swamped with Yale stuff. I've heard third year is the hardest. How is Lover Boy going to do it? Newark is not precisely close."

Quinn sighed, her gaze softening as she watched Lucy's curls bounce with every movement. "Isaac is determined to make it work. He's planning to commute from New Haven to Newark every day. It's a two-hour train ride, but he says he'll get up early and come back in the afternoon when he finishes practice."

"Every day?"

"Every day."

Santana chuckled, shaking her head incredulously. "You know something, Cap," she said, shifting the conversation entirely, "I think you're really crazy for telling Coach Sue that you wanted her to personally get you back to your pre-pregnancy weight. Have you forgotten the torture she put us through back in McKinley?"

"Oh, believe me, I remember," she replied, her tone laced with a hint of nostalgia and a touch of dread. "But if I want to slip into that wedding dress, I need to make sure it fits perfectly. And who better than the Devil herself to whip me back into shape? She's being surprisingly nice to me considering what she was like in high school."

"I'm not sure I trust Coach Sue's version of 'nice.'"

"Yeah, well, Isaac might have said something to her. I wouldn't put it past him. But regardless, I need to look and feel sexy again. For me, and for him."

"Speaking of weddings, when are you getting married?"

"Isaac wants to wait until we graduate. Something about having my own college degree with my last name on it. So, to my mother's delight, she has two long years to prepare the perfect wedding."

"Judy's probably already got a binder full of wedding plans, doesn't she?"

"You have no idea. She's been dropping hints about venues, themes, and guest lists since the day he proposed." Quinn grimaced playfully. "I'm already dreading it. We could get married in Vegas and I'd be happy. I don't need all the pomp and circumstance my mother wants."

"You might be happy, but you'd also be a widow," Santana quipped, her tone teasing. "You put Isaac in situations where he puts his neck on the line, all to make you happy. And then, when things go awry, guess who gets all the heat? Him. I think letting your mother plan your wedding for two long years will ensure that you both reach the altar in one piece."

"I'll just say this: I'm not letting Jayden, Asher, or Isaac drive the car. Those three are a danger behind the wheel, and I'd prefer my future husband at the altar, not in the emergency room. Thank you very much."

"Well, Quinnie, you don't have perfect timing either. You dropped the bombshell about being pregnant right when he was getting pulled over and stopping traffic. He could have easily been hit."

"Don't remind me."

The sound of keys jingling in the lock and laughter filled the room, drawing the attention of Quinn, Santana, and Lucy. They turned to see Isaac and Jayden entering, their voices filled with mirth as they exchanged banter, bags in hand.

Lucy's delighted squeal filled the air as she caught sight of her father, her small hands reaching out eagerly towards him. Isaac's smile widened as he approached, handing the bags to his best friend before bending down to scoop up his daughter.

"There's my favorite girl. Had fun playing with Mommy and Auntie Tana?"

Lucy gurgled happily in response, her green eyes twinkling with excitement as she basked in her father's attention. He then turned his attention to Quinn, his hazel eyes alight with affection. "Baby, how was your day?" he inquired, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Better now that you're here."

"Don't I deserve a kiss too?" Santana teased, earning a glare from Quinn and an amused look from Isaac.

"I brought you chocolate," he announced with a grin, watching as the brunette eagerly dashed towards the kitchen to investigate the contents of the bags. "But try not to kill Jay in the process." he called after her, her laughter echoing through the room as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Isaac leaned against the door frame, his gaze fixed on Quinn as she moved about the kitchen, clad only in his hockey jersey, her golden locks gathered up in a messy bun. The soft morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over her delicate features, accentuating the curve of her silhouette. To him, there was no sight more captivating than this.

With silent steps, he approached her, his hands finding their place on her hips as he pressed gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched at his touch, her concentration wavering as she attempted to focus on the task at hand.

"What are you cooking?" he murmured against her skin, his lips brushing lightly over her neck.

"P-Pancakes."

He smiled against her skin, the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body enveloping him. "It smells delicious, baby and so do you. I think I'd prefer you for breakfast, to be honest. What do you think?"

Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink at his words, "L-Lucy," she stammered, her focus momentarily diverted by the sensation of his lips on her skin.

"Daddy made sure she was asleep," His voice hoarse and deep against her ear making her tremble slightly at the sensation, her heart fluttering in her chest. "I think Daddy deserves an award for that, don't you?"

Quinn let out an exasperated huff, turning around to face him, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He stood before her, looking irresistibly attractive in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, accentuating his toned physique. A sight that never failed to send a shiver of desire down her spine.

"You are so full of yourself."

His lips curved into a smug smirk as he closed the distance between them, trapping her against the kitchen counter. "Want to be the next one?" he asked provocatively, his voice dripping with seduction. "Just say the words and I can have you screaming my name in seconds."

She felt her cheeks flush at his suggestive words, her pulse quickening at the intensity of his gaze. "You're beautiful," he whispered huskily, his lips brushing against hers before he leaned in to kiss her deeply, his hands gripping her waist possessively as he pulled her towards him.

Quinn responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his locks as she deepened the kiss, her body melting against his. But as he began to kiss her neck and run his hands under the jersey, she pulled away making Isaac blink in confusion.

"Are you okay? Have I hurt you?" he began to ramble, panic evident in his eyes. "I didn't mean to—I won't do anything if you don't want to. I didn't mean to make you feel pressured. I'm sorry if—"

"It's not you, it's me," she interjected, covering his mouth with her hand to silence his rambling. She felt a small smile tug at her lips as he licked her hand, prompting her to pull it away with a look of disgust.

"You're so gross for that."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No. What? Why would you say that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You said 'it's not you, it's me'. Isn't that the line they use in movies when the main couple breaks up or something?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his interpretation, shaking her head in amusement. Only he could manage to make her laugh in the most unexpected moments.

"Now that we've made it clear that you're not going to break up with me, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Isaac asked, taking a step back to give her space. He wanted to ensure she felt comfortable and not overwhelmed, knowing that his towering height could sometimes be intimidating.

Quinn let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her emotions. "I don't want you to see me like this," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Like this…How?

"Topless."

"Baby, I've seen you topless many times," Isaac reassured her with a soft chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. "I don't think there's anything capable of impressing me unless you've grown a third nipple or something, which would be quite impressive."

But his attempt at humor fell short when he noticed the sadness in her expression. His playful demeanor softened, replaced by genuine concern. "Talk to me. If you don't tell me what it is, I can't fix it. Is it something I've said or something I've done? Something I haven't said or something I haven't done?"

"I just…I don't feel sexy," Quinn admitted, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, still avoiding his gaze. "I don't want you to see me like that. You look so good with your abs and I..."

"You're beautiful," he interjected, closing the distance between them and gently cupping her face in his hands."You're beautiful and sexy. Very sexy, baby."

"I have stretch marks, Isaac, and I still haven't lost all the baby weight. I'm hardly the definition of sexy."

"You're my definition of sexy. I love each and every one of those stretch marks that you hate so much and do you know why?" She shook her head in denial. "Because they have made you what you are now. A mother. The mother of my daughter and I think there is nothing sexier than that. You drive me crazy with desire every time I look at you, it makes me want to give you another baby. That, Lucy Quinn Fabray, is the effect you have on me."

Quinn felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked at him. She felt her heart swell with warmth, his words penetrating the walls of her insecurities and wrapping her in a blanket of love.

"I love you," he whispered, enveloping her in a tight embrace and pressing a tender kiss atop of her head. His arms encircled her protectively. "Besides, I like you, regardless of your weight. As long as you're happy, so am I."

He backed away slightly from her as he flashed a cheeky grin, his hands squeezing her hips. "Besides, the pregnancy has given me more to hold on to. So it's a win-win."

"You're such a man sometimes."

"I am a man, baby," He said, flexing his arms exaggeratedly, which only made her laugh harder.

"My man," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck affectionately.

"I can't wait to marry you," Isaac murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers, savoring the moment. He felt her fingers gently comb through his hair, sending a shiver down his spine. "I love you, Quinn. Never doubt it."

She hummed softly in response, basking in the warmth of their connection as they stood together in the quiet of the kitchen. However, peace was soon interrupted by the cry of their daughter, echoing loudly from their bedroom, demanding their attention. Reluctantly, they parted, their gazes lingering on each other.

"Duty calls, Daddy," Quinn said with a grin, giving him one last kiss before turning back to the pancakes on the stove. However, her concentration was once again broken when she felt a playful slap on her butt, followed by Isaac's infectious laughter echoing down the hallway.

"I love you!"

"I'm going to go nuts if anyone asks me about tablecloth colors or centerpieces again," Isaac blurted out, collapsing onto the couch beside his fiancée with a frustrated sigh. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, his expression a mix of exasperation and resignation. "Remind me again why we let our mothers and my aunt plan our wedding."

Quinn offered him a sympathetic pat on the leg, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Don't crush their dreams, Isaac. Besides, remember it was your idea to involve them in the first place. And let's not forget that I suggested Vegas, but you vetoed that."

"I'm not about to let a fake Elvis marry us, Quinn. The only celebrity I'd entrust with our wedding is Taylor Swift, but she's a tad busy with her new album '1989'—so, onto plan B: a traditional church wedding."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Taylor was plan A for our wedding officiant?"

"A man can dream." He mused dreamily, his eyes taking on a distant look. "And hey, did you know you can actually get certified to officiate weddings nowadays? Maybe she could do it, you never know. Just imagine the headlines, Quinn. We'd be famous. Maybe she'd even write a song about us."

Quinn chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips before patting it affectionately. "Let's stick to plan B for now, okay?"

"If you could choose anyone to marry us, who would it be? And don't rule out cartoons. Bugs Bunny or Alvin from Alvin and the Chipmunks could totally pull it off. Or even Simba or Clifford. Should we get Lucy a dog?"

"Animals can't officiate weddings, Isaac. And no, we're not getting our 8-month-old daughter a dog."

"She's almost nine," Isaac boasted, his eyes lighting up with paternal pride. "She's almost walking, you know? The other day, I caught her holding onto the couch, trying to pull herself up. It won't be long before she's toddling you still haven't answered my question."

" I think you've been spending too much time with Jay."

"He's my teammate, my brother. I can't help it and ever since we stopped being roommates, I've had separation anxiety."

"You text him more than you text me. Every time you two say goodbye, you act like you won't see him anymore. You see him every day, Isaac. Every single day!"

"Okay, someone's jealous."

"I'm definitely not jealous of Jayden, I can tell you that."

"You are so jealous," Isaac insisted, unable to contain his amusement as he poked her side. "Just admit it."

"Isaac Jacob Hargrave, put that finger close to my body and I will rip it out off your hand."

"Feisty," he remarked with a grin, inching his finger closer to her.

Before he could make contact, Quinn swiftly grabbed his finger and twisted it, causing him to yelp in pain. "OW, OW, let go of my finger! Jesus, woman, where do you get so much strength?" he exclaimed, his face contorted with discomfort.

"I've warned you before and you didn't listen. Say sorry."

"It was just a joke," Isaac whimpered, his hazel eyes pleading for mercy as he tried to pry his finger free, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he pleaded, his voice rising in urgency. "You're going to break my finger, please let it go."

Quinn couldn't help but smirk triumphantly as he cradled his 'injured' finger, shooting her an wounded look before inspecting it with an exaggerated pout "You broke my finger, you savage," he accused.

"Now you're just being a big baby."

"I'm not being a baby," he retorted, still examining his finger, "You're the wild brute. This is abuse," he declared, holding up his finger for her inspection.

"Want me to kiss it better?".

"No if you're going to bite it off."

"Honestly, Isaac, your daughter is better behaved than you," Quinn continued with feigned exasperation. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm raising two babies instead of one."

"You take that back!"

"You're proving my point."

Isaac huffed dramatically before crossing his arms and turning his back to her. "I hate you."

Quinn gazed at him affectionately, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Oh, how she adored him. Despite his occasional bouts of childishness—like now—he never failed to bring a smile to her face. With him, there was never a dull moment.

"Sunshine," she said softly, approaching him from behind and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He glanced at her briefly before turning his head away again. "It was my ring finger," he muttered, his tone still slightly sulky.

"And I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to hurt you."

"And you called me a big baby," he added, a small snort escaping him, prompting Quinn to chuckle. Isaac turned to look at her, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement and, his lips quirking into a playful grin.

"Are you laughing at me, Fabray?"

"N-No," she managed to choke out between giggles, her hand covering her mouth as she attempted to stifle her laughter but failing miserably.

Isaac advanced towards her with a mischievous grin, effectively trapping her against the other side of the couch they were seated on. Sensing his intentions, she immediately tried to evade him, leaning back and attempting to create some distance between them.

"Isaac, no."

"Isaac, yes."

Quinn cast him a pleading glance, her expression resembling that of a puppy seeking forgiveness. "Please don't do it. I'm sorry."

"That doesn't work on me anymore. I already know all your tricks, baby," Isaac teased, his face mere inches from hers before launching into a relentless onslaught of tickles. She squirmed and giggled uncontrollably, futilely attempting to defend herself by swatting at him with a nearby cushion, though her efforts only seemed to spur him further.

"Do you give up?" he asked breathlessly, pausing to catch his breath as he loomed over her, pinning her hands above her head with one hand. Despite her laughter and protests, Quinn couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked in that moment, his dominance sending a flutter through her heart.

"I love you."

He released her hands immediately, a mock scowl on his face. "I'm trying to get mad at you, Quinn. Can't you at least give me that?"

"I just said I love you," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. "Nothing else."

Isaac let out an exaggerated sigh, his pout deepening. "You know I can't be mad at you if you say that. You're being cruel," he accused, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. With a tender gesture, he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing over her skin in a soft caress sending shivers down her spine. "You're beautiful."

She felt her cheeks flush with warmth at his compliment and he chuckled softly at her reaction, the sound filling the room with warmth and affection. "Will you look at that, I can still manage to make you blush after all. For that reason alone, I will consider myself the winner of this argument," he declared dramatically, his tone playful as if addressing an imaginary audience.

Quinn sighed contentedly, her heart swelling with love for the man before her. Watching him indulge in his playful antics, she couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and anticipation for their future together. She couldn't wait to marry him and spend the rest of her life by his side.

"Now that we've decided that I'm the winner, does that mean we can buy Lucy a dog?"

"Isaac, we're not going to buy her a dog."

"Not even a teeny-tiny one?"

"No!"

"So, back to my initial question, who would you have officiating our wedding?"

"Oh my God, Isaac." Quinn said, her exasperation evident as she rolled her eyes. "If you want to bother someone, call Jay."

Isaac's face lit up with excitement at the prospect. "Yes! Victory is mine!" he exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out his phone and dialing his best friend's number. "Jay, guess what? We're going to have Clifford officiate our wedding—I know—Isn't that so cool?"