Disclaimer: Yeah, definitely still don't own any Camp Rock related stuff.
A/N: Heeyyyy guys! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, again, you all make my heart sing. =) I'm so happy that you liked chapter eight. I was nervous about it. This is very happy-making!
This chapter wasn't up quite as quickly as I was hoping, and it isn't quite as long as most. It's pure fluff, which is hard for me to write because I have no fluffy experiences to go off of in my head. Luckily for you, chapter ten has the appearance of some angst, and thus is already half written. It really should be up within a week. Seriously this time.
Anyway. I hope you enjoy some good ol' Squinn fluff. =)
Annnnnd... just a little P.S. - This chapter wasn't beta-d and it's five o'clock in the morning. Sorry for any type of errors that may occur, I hope you'll forgive me.
Chapter Nine
"Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words."
Plautus
Normally when Quinn announced that she'd slaved away over the hot stove all day, she'd really just microwaved something she'd found in the fridge. This time she actually had been in the kitchen all day, and she'd decided if Shane didn't appreciate what she'd done she would push him down a flight of stairs. The entire room was a huge mess, ingredients covering every inch of counter space. There was flour all over the floor from when the bag had attacked her and batter dripped along the granite counter tops. Quinn was standing triumphantly in the middle of it all, grinning. She felt like a cooking goddess.
Cookies, brownies, and two dozen cupcakes had taken up her morning. Abby and Elaina had woken up with their mouths watering, and Quinn practically had to beat them with her wooden spoon to keep them off of the desserts. That's when the flour bag had 'attacked' her – both of her friends had 'accidentally' grabbed large handfuls of the white powder to throw at her. Then they'd laughed and ran away, vacating the apartment, and Quinn hadn't seen them since. She'd started preparing the main course around one in the afternoon, since the pork roast had to be in the oven for about four hours.
Now everything was ready, and she was almost giddy with excitement. Between times of basting the roast every half hour, she'd been able to doll herself up fairly nicely. She'd left her dark hair down and straightened it, added some light make-up, and wiggled into her favourite sundress. Hopefully, Shane's socks would be knocked right off.
"Cuuupcake! I'm here!" his voice yelled from the entryway. She'd informed Stan earlier just to let the birthday boy in, since she wasn't entirely sure if she'd be able to answer the door. "On time and everything. It smells delicious in here, did you hire a cook? Where are you?"
"Kitchen!" she called back, still smiling. Turning around to greet him, she smirked as his mouth dropped open in shock. "Happy birthday, Shane."
"You look... gorgeous," he told her, moving closer to wrap her in his arms. She happily returned the hug, giving him a light peck on the cheek. They were both grinning like fools as they pulled apart. "So, did you hire a cook?"
"No. This is all homemade."
"Really? What are we having?"
"Cranberry pork roast, which is a family recipe, with rice and broccoli. And I made a lot of stuff for dessert, so that you can take some home with you. Cookies, brownies and cupcakes."
"You seriously made this yourself? No help?"
"Yes, Shane," she said, rolling her eyes. "I made all of it."
"Marry me."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."
"Be the mother of my children," he intoned, pulling her back into another tight hug. Again she let out a soft laugh, more than happy to linger in the embrace. Shane began to slowly sway, nuzzling into her hair as he hummed a simple melody. Those stereotypical butterflies erupted in Quinn's stomach, and she was glad Shane couldn't see her rapidly colouring face. Under it all, she was becoming more and more certain that he was stealing her heart, and she realized she'd stopped even pretending to fight it. "Quinn?
"Hmm?"
"I... I really like you," he nervously whispered into her ear, so quiet she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "I think we can make us actually work."
She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. They looked hopeful. They looked sincere. Her face broke out into a wide smile. "Okay, let's try," she murmured. Their lips met softly, and both could feel the other smiling into the kiss. It wasn't until the oven timer beeped that they remembered anything other than being in their own private world.
"So, where's my hippopotamus?"
Following dinner and after cleaning the kitchen, the couple had relocated into the living room. They were sprawled out on one of the couches, Quinn's head in Shane's lap, his fingers tangled in her hair. She smirked and cracked her eyes open to glance at his ever-present smirk. Pulling a look of sorrow onto her features, she bit her lip.
"I'm afraid they were all out of hippos at the Happy Hippopotamus Store. There seems to be a shortage of them, and the store has been out of them for weeks. I'm sorry, it's really quite unfortunate."
"Aw, shucks. That was my only birthday wish."
"I did get you something, though. Well, I made you something. And it took me a long ass time, too, so you'd better appreciate it," she informed him, pushing herself up and off the couch. She disappeared into her bedroom for a moment, then reappeared with a large wrapped package. Shane's eyes lit up as she placed it on his lap.
"What is it?"
"Open it, Einstein."
He ripped through the wrapping paper with childlike enthusiasm, practically tearing the entire box apart in his excitement. His hands dug through the Styrofoam peanuts that filled the package, looking quite confused when he came up empty handed. Quinn gestured for him to keep searching, and he started throwing the bits of foam at her in large handfuls.
"Hey! Do you know how annoying those things are to clean up?" she whined, only to have the entire box dumped over her head. "Oh, very mature, jerk."
"It's my birthday, I can do what I want, cupcake," he laughed. In his hand was a CD case. Quinn had personally designed everything about it. The cover was full of clippings from various tabloids about them, and if he flipped through the booklet inside, the pages were all plastered with pictures of the two of them. On the back, instead of listing track names, she had taken lyrics from each of the songs to display a message:
This plan of mine is oh so very lame.
I got a lot to say to you,
And I am contemplating matters:
I don't know what I want.
{You} told me I was beautiful,
{Said} my smile was your favourite kind of smile,
And I kissed your face.
True, it may seem like a stretch, but
I'm falling like I never fell before.
Forget what we're told
{I} promise I'll always be there for you.
I bet you think I'm kidding;
It's too cliché.
You gotta spend some time with me:
I wanna be your lover.
Kiss me
When we are alone.
I know that I'll be leaving soon;
Miss me when I'm gone.
"I know it isn't much, but you're insanely hard to shop for," Quinn told him, scratching her neck nervously as he read through the lyrics. "You hate it, don't you? I could get you something else. Search for a hippo, maybe?"
"So, you want to be my lover?" Shane asked, effectively shutting her up as his eyes started twinkling mischievously.
She rolled her eyes. Of course that would be the one thing he'd pick up on. "Ah... yes. Eventually. Soon."
"How about now?"
"Ooo, very romantic," she scoffed. "You're sweeping me right off my feet."
"It's my birthday, I don't have to be romantic."
"Do you have to do anything on your birthday?"
"No."
"Hmm."
"So? How about now?" he persisted.
"No."
"How come?"
"Because I have to be on a plane soon and won't have time to take a shower before you drop me off at the airport. I'm not greeting my family smelling like sex."
"Do you have to go today? Maybe you could switch your flight until tomorrow. It's my birthday."
"Really, I hadn't heard. Listen, you're lucky that I'm here for your birthday at all. Nicole's wedding is in four days. I'm afraid to go near my phone in case she crawls through the line and strangles me to death for not being there yet."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he asked, playing with a piece of her hair.
"It's a little late for you to switch stuff around now, Shane. You can't skip out of a charity concert. That'd pretty much guarantee you a one-way ticket to Hell. I'd feel pretty horrible if I condemned you to an afterlife of brimstone and fire just so you could be my family buffer."
"I like s'mores."
She snorted. "I'm pretty sure there are no marshmallows in Hell."
"Damn."
"Please try to stay out of any sort of troublesome shenanigans while I'm gone," Quinn pleaded as she and Shane stood in line before the security check. Their arms were wrapped loosely around each others' waists, looking picture perfect for the paparazzi that were furiously snapping photographs and firing off questions. The couple diligently ignored everyone but each other.
"You wound me, cupcake. What type of shenanigans can I get up to in a week?" asked Shane, fake pout fully in place.
"I'm sure you'll find something. Do your best to behave, okay?"
"Yes, mother."
"I'll miss you," she told him quietly. "Seriously. We haven't gone more than two days without seeing each other for four months. Who will I mock?"
"You'll find some poor, unsuspecting guy. Just make sure he doesn't steal you away, okay?" he replied, tightening his arms around her and drawing her as close as he could.
"I lived there boyfriend-free for years, dude. I'm fairly certain one insanely busy week won't see the miraculous growth of any new prospects."
"You never know."
"Just shut up and kiss me so I can leave, please," she snarked, grinning. He happily complied, prompting another frenzy of camera flashes. Both wore smiles when they finally pulled apart, and Shane slid her carry-on bag off of his shoulder and onto hers. "Well, here's looking at you, kid."
"Have fun. Say hi to the family for me."
"Will do. Keep out of trouble."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll miss you, cupcake."
Quinn gave him one last kiss to the cheek before quickly striding through security. She'd flown enough to know the drill backwards and forwards. Shoes off, belt off, bag on the conveyor. When she was finished, she looked back to see Shane already gone, and different couples were now tearfully saying their goodbyes. She smiled as she began walking toward her gate.
Shane had really, really grown on her. A few months ago she would never have guessed that she'd be in this position, fully ready to completely fall for the obnoxious rock star. Somehow he'd wormed his way into her heart, and she was now glad that GP was such an interfering little shit. Without him and the label playing their slightly twisted game of cupid, Quinn never would have had anything to do with the boy.
Of course, as much as she liked him, she was still quite cynical of this new relationship that they had formed from the sham. After all, even if they did end up in that giddy, always happy, I-can't-live-without-you type of love, the label still had control. Her bosses could snap their fingers at any sort of whim that floated through their shiny, bald heads, and then Quinn would be nursing her broken heart back to health. It would probably yield some killer songs, though.
The decision was no longer up to her. If she fell, she fell, and she wouldn't be able to stop it. All she could do was keep little bits of protection surrounding her heart, do some damage control in case things turned out badly. She needed an overly long lecture/pep talk from her sister.
Which meant it was a good thing she was going home.
A/N: Reviews are love! I lalalove you all! Ask if you'd like to know what songs Quinn used on the CD. =)