


The Ultimate Question

by Monny287



Category: Zoey 101
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-06-14
Updated: 2008-12-28
Packaged: 2013-06-17 13:44:53
Rating: K
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,791
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4323782/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/603062/Monny287
Summary: A series of one-shot Choey proposals that keep bombarding my mind. CHAPTER FOUR: Chase has planned the perfect surprise at Christmas, but little does he know Zoey has one for him in return. A little late, I know, but who cares?





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: Oh, jeesh….another plot bunny hopped over while I was writing something to satisfy another! These plot bunnies are multiplying like….well, like rabbits. (My attempt at humor, at least pretend to chuckle)**

"So, basically, you're using my child," Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her friend. Chase bit his lip, obviously nervous. He'd come with an idea that had struck him earlier that morning, but needed to pass it by her first. He would, after all, be implementing the use of their small child for his plan to work. Quinn leaned against the laundry basket she was placing clean clothes in.

"Not _use,_" he said, wringing his hands. "Just borrow." Quinn softened and cracked a smile. She picked up another towel and folded it, flopping it on top of the growing pile in the basket.

"I think it's a great idea," she assured him. The child in question sat over in his high-chair, squishing cereal into his applesauce and using his sweet potatoes the way his father used mousse. He had half a Mohawk going from running his hands over the top of his head, his dark blonde hair dyed a rather interesting shade of orange. Luke had obviously been spending too much time around his father, who had bought his son a full hair-care kit on his first birthday.

"Mommy!" Luke reached out with sticky fingers towards his mother, flashing an adorable ear-to-ear grin as he did so. "All done!"

"I can see that," Quinn chuckled and grabbed a washcloth from the top of the pile. "Did some of it actually make it into your mouth?" Luke nodded seriously as his mother dampened the cloth at the sink, before going over to him and attacking the sticky mess that was her baby.

"Mommy, no!" Luke squirmed away from her, or tried to, at least. Being confined to a high chair had its limitations. He flailed his arms, trying to bat her away, but to no avail. In less than five minutes, rosy cheeks were visible under the layer of applesauce, and the orange hair had been replaced by a shock of brownish yellow. The toddler bib, which resembled more of an overly-large shirt with ties in the back, was removed, and Luke tried to undo the tray himself. His mother undid it, helped him down, and he toddled over to where Chase was.

"Hi, kiddo!" Chase said jovially, looking down the child, who was now tugging at his pant legs.

"Up! 'Ase, up!" he demanded, not quite adept at getting the "ch" sound yet. Chase complied, and perched the toddler on his hip, to be rewarded with a wet kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for that," Chase laughed, wiping his cheek with the back of his the arm that wasn't holding Luke. Presently, a _click_ of the front door opening could be heard, and the familiar shuffled of Logan coming home reached their ears.

"Daddy!" Luke wriggled away from Chase, who put him down and watched him zoom off to attack his father's shins as he came in the room.

"Woah!" Logan said, grabbing hold of the doorframe so he wouldn't be knocked over. "You're going to be quite the football player, you little bruiser, you!" Luke only smiled up at his father and tried to scramble up his pant leg. Logan tossed the toddler of his shoulder, to the chorus of many giggles, and came in to give his wife a kiss.

"Hey, Logan," Chase said, taking advantage of Luke's position and tickling his feet.

"Hey, Chase, what's up?" Logan put Luke on his feet, watching him wobble in the other room, still laughing from all the excitement.

"Chase has an idea for Zoey,"

"And that's new….how?" Logan took a bottle of water from the fridge and smirked at Chase before taking a swig.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me," Logan spewed his mouthful of water halfway across the room, and choked.

"Well…" he said, coughing. "That _is_ new."

"Personally, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner," Quinn said, patting him on the back.

"Me too, but it wasn't what I was expecting to hear when I got home from work,"

"Understandably,"

"Anyway, I need to borrow Luke,"

"You're asking Zoey to marry you and you need to borrow Luke?"

"I have a plan,"

"Do tell," Logan leaned over the counter as Chase told him of his idea. When he was finished, a smile grew over Logan's face. "That is…brilliant. Sure, you can borrow Luke. She'll be completely shocked."

"That's the point,"

"I know it is, I just thought it was a particularly ingenious plan,"

"Oh, right," Chase said. "Like you popping the question while we all threw our mortarboards in the air at graduation was particularly ingenious."

"Oh….shut up! I'm not good at the romantic stuff!"

"You have your moments, Logan," Quinn laughed, leaning over and kissing Logan on the cheek as he pouted. "Every once in awhile."

"A great while," Chase muttered, earning him a cuff upside the head from Logan.

"Not all of us are born with the innate ability to do something completely normal, and have it turn out utterly romantic,"

"I'm just gifted that way,"

"Shut up,"

Two days later, Chase felt he was ready. He'd spent the better part of the last forty-eight hours preparing for his plan, and the hour sleep he'd gotten worrying over it. He wasn't worried so much about having the nerve to do it, but he was worried about cranky toddlers and things going wrong.

"Don't worry," Quinn assured him, handing him Luke while she put the finishing touches on the diaper bag. She was coming along, in case of mishap, and because she was an integral part of the plan. "He's had his nap, lunch, and got to watch his favorite episode of _Blue's Clues_ this morning. He'll be a perfect angel."

"I hope so,"

"Of course he will!" Quinn said, tickling the baby under the chin. "You'll be a perfect little gentleman, won't you?" Luke giggled and nodded, though neither adult was sure he had any idea what a gentleman was.

"'Man" Luke repeated, patting Chase's cheek.

"Alright, we're all ready to go," Quinn traded the diaper bag for her son, who went willingly into his mother's outstretched arms.

"Almost!" Logan said, coming down the stairs. Under his arm, he carted one of his smaller video cameras, and carried a tripod in his hand. "Videotape the whole thing. She'll love it."

"I take it you're coming along, then?" Chase said. "You're the only one who knows how to work that thing."

"Yes, I'm coming along,"

"Okay, good," Chase looked nervously at his watch. "Do we all remember the plan?"

"Yes," Quinn said. "You're supposed to be babysitting Luke all day because Logan and I are at a director's convention in Sacramento. And you're meeting Zoey at the park, because you thought Luke would have fun." In all reality, Luke wasn't big on parks. He preferred to play by himself, which fit perfectly with the plan.

"And, when you give your symbol, we lure the baby away and give him the cards, one at a time," Logan finished. "We got it."

"Excellent," Chase twitched a bit, hoisting the bag a little higher onto his shoulder. He held out his arms. "Luke, you ready to help Uncle Chase?"

"Yeah," the baby said, leaping into his arms. "'Ase."

"Well, the key piece to the plan is ready, let's go," Chase said, heading towards the door. After a bit of confusion, the car seat was switched from Logan's car to Chase's, and after a bit _more_ confusion, with Luke putting in helpful comments like "No, 'Ase!" and batting his hands away when he did something wrong, the child was strapped in, pacified with a set of crayons and a coloring book, and they were off. Quinn and Logan would be following much later.

"Zo!" Luke pounded the top of Chase's head forcefully as the blonde in question came into sight. Chase had put Luke on his shoulders, much to Luke's delight.

"Ouch…not so hard, buddy!" Chase laughed. Luke ignored him, and thumped his head again.

"Hey, cutie!" Zoey said, coming up to the two men.

"Hey, Zo," Chase replied, swinging Luke around so that he was perched on one hip.

"I was talking about the baby," Zoey said, holding out her arms, into which Luke willingly crawled. He was clearly enjoying all the attention he was receiving lately. "But you're cute, too." She gave Chase a kiss before turning towards the park.

"I think I feel insulted," Chase said, before following the two.

"So, what time do we have to return Luke?" Zoey asked, stopping by the sandbox and depositing a very excited Luke into it. Chase cringed to think what could have been in there, but Luke didn't seem to mind, burying his chubby hands in the sand and dropping handfuls of it onto his jean shorts. Zoey sat down behind him on the wooden frame, and Luke automatically used her as a backrest, leaning back without interrupting his grab and drop routine.

"Well, Logan and Quinn won't be back until about nine, so I'd say we have him for the night, given that his bedtime is seven-thirty. Quinn won't want to move him when he's already asleep,"

"We still have the playpen in the closet, right?"

"I think so," Chase said, dying to spill his plan. Luke was a frequent guest in their home, as well as Michael and Lisa's, and Lola (who had suddenly become old-fashioned, and refused to live with Vince, her long time boyfriend, and so rented a condo in Malibu by herself), so baby gear was scattered among the three houses. Zoey and Chase were frequent babysitters, living only about a mile or so away from Luke and his parents, and had a cache of toys, clothes, books, and other equipment in a front hall closet.

"Castle!" Luke said suddenly, picking up a red plastic bucket abandoned nearby and scooping handfuls of sand into it. Carefully, he flipped it upside down and triumphantly lifted the bucket. He frowned when the sand structure collapsed. He tried again, only to have the same results.

"You've got to get the sand wet, buddy," Chase told him. He pulled the diaper bag onto his lap and pulled out a bottle of water. Popping the top off, he poured it on the sand in front of the baby, careful to get only the sand, and not Luke, wet. Luke caught on to the idea quickly, and scooped the darker sand into the bucket and turned it over.

"Castle!" he squealed in delight as the overturned bucket produced the mass of sand he wanted. Zoey retrieved a twig from a few feet away and attached a leaf, before placing it on top of the mound.

"There!" she said. "A flag! Luke's castle!"

"Castle!" he repeated, before taking a hand and squishing his creation down to a flat pancake. "All gone!"

"It certainly is," Zoey said, giggling. Luke grinned in that ear-to-ear way he usually did, before standing up and dusting his hands off on his shirt.

"Bye-bye!" he said, walking away from Chase and Zoey and waving towards them. He walked in the direction of the jungle gym.

"Did we just get ditched by a baby?" Chase asked, looking at Luke with a bemused look.

"I think we did,"

"That's sad,"

"Come on," Zoey said, rolling her eyes. "Let's go catch up with him before he tries to see if he can fly."

They caught up with the toddler at the jungle gym, watching a group of children playing jacks intently. The group regarded him with small, dismissive smiles, before going back to what they were doing. Before anyone could do anything, Luke reached out and grabbed the ball.

"Hey!" one of the kids said. "That's ours! We need it!"

"Mine!" Luke said, hugging the ball to his chest. Chase groaned. He'd forgotten Luke was going through this phase.

"Alright, guys," Zoey said. "We'll get this sorted out in a moment." From the diaper bag, she pulled out another ball, this one bright red (and bigger), and showed it to Luke.

"Come on, Luke," she said, waving it in front of him. "Why don't we go play with _your_ ball?" Luke shook his head 'no', but eventually succumbed to temptation and gave Zoey the smaller ball while grabbing his own and running away with it.

"Here you guys go," she handed the ball back to one of the children, who flashed a smile and thanked her.

"You're a good mommy," he said, nodding his head decisively. The children move their jacks game to a better venue for not getting their pieces stolen by babies before she was able to tell them she wasn't Luke's mommy. Shaking her head and smiling, she walked over to where Luke sat in the grass, bouncing the ball up and down. Chase hung back and sat on a swing, choosing this moment just to relax and watch them. In all reality, he loved the times he and Zoey got to baby-sit Luke. He saw a glow around her that he didn't see anywhere else, and Luke absolutely adored her. She was his favorite person behind his parents, and it showed. Quite often, he'd walk in the living room to find the two of them asleep on the couch, watching a re-run of _Sesame Street,_ or _Blues Clues,_ with Luke curled up in Zoey's lap. He reached into his pocket and fingered the box there, smiling to himself. She would never see it coming.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him with a sly grin on her face, carting Luke on her hip and heading towards the baby swing next to him.

"Just you," he said, smiling back at her and helping her get Luke's legs through the right openings. Luke kicked his legs and giggled in excitement.

"Watching me make a complete fool out of myself?" she said wryly, making a face at Luke as she gave him a push.

"You weren't making a fool out of yourself," Chase said, going behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I thought it was adorable."

"At least someone did," she said, tickling Luke's legs as he swung back towards them. Chase said nothing and instead just enjoyed the time the three of them had together.

After another half-an-hour, two trips to the water fountain, nine rides down the slide, and a rather hectic game of 'chase me', the three collapsed under a three, laughing hysterically and trying to catch a breath. Luke bounced back quickly, and after only a few moments, hopped up. A few moments later found Luke wandering away a few feet, picking up sticks and leaves and bringing them back to his babysitters and going "see 'em?".

"Okay, whatever that kid eats for breakfast, I want some," Zoey said, leaning against Chase, tired out for the moment.

"I think it was oatmeal this morning,"

"Oatmeal on steroids,"

"I doubt his parents are lacing his breakfast with steroids,"

"That would be funny, though,"

"And only slightly illegal," Chase ran a hand up and down her arm soothingly.

"Only slightly," Zoey agreed, and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

"I love you," Chase said after a few minutes, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, too," she replied, taking one of his hands in both of hers and laying it in her lap. She had been up late working on a project the night before, and was slowly falling asleep to the rhythm of Chase's ministrations.

"Good," Chase smiled, and nodded to Logan and Quinn, who were hiding behind a tree a few feet away. Chase flushed as he watched a huge smile spread over Quinn's face. Slowly, she produced Luke's favorite stuffed toy, a worn yellow bean-bag duck, from behind her back. The flash of color among the brown and green of the park caught Luke's eye immediately, and, seeing that it was his duck, immediately toddled over to where it was. Zoey was oblivious, every moment closer to sleep.

"Edgar!" Luke said, laughing, for that was the duck's name (per Quinn's suggestion). Luke picked up Edgar and hugged him tightly, before turning and heading back in the direction of his babysitters.

"See 'em?" he demanded, dropping the duck into Zoey's lap. She opened her eyes and gave him a warm smile. "Edgar!"

"It is Edgar," she said, patting the duck on the head. "And he's a very nice duck." She went to hand it back before realizing the stuffed animal was acting as messenger. A white note, folded in half, was stuck with a safety pin, to the gingham bow tied around Edgar's neck.

"What in the world?" she unpinned the note and handed the duck off to Luke, who began to drag his friend through the dust of the playground. Zoey unfolded the note, which opened to reveal two words: _Aunt Zoey._ Chase had written them the previous day, and then typed them to disguise his handwriting. Zoey furrowed her brows in confusion, and Chase's heart rate began to speed up a bit. He was finding it hard to keep a straight face, though knew it was imperative for the success of the operation.

Seeing that she received the first note (and with Logan behind the tree next to her manning the video camera), Quinn stifled a giggle behind her hand and dug another stuffed animal out of the backpack she had brought, this one a small teddy bear Luke was fond of. She lured her son over to her by whispering a lilting nursery rhyme, and then handed him the bear, with instructions to give it to his Aunt Zoey.

"See 'em?" Luke said as he waddled over in their direction. He flopped the bear in Zoey's lap and pointed to it. "Bear! See 'em?"

"I see!" Zoey said, again noticing the note and removing it before giving Luke back his bear. Luke again ran away, giggling with joy as he carefully placed the bear next to Edgar. He plopped down onto his diapered bottom and began to play pat-a-cake with the bear, carrying on an unintelligible conversation as he did so.

Chase turned his attention back to Zoey, who was even more confused by the second note than she had been from the first. She had pulled away from him to read it more clearly. _Luke has a question he wants to ask you,_ was the message on the second card.

"Okay then," she said, putting it on top of the first one and furrowing her brow again. Chase nearly laughed at her expression, but knew that would blow his entire plan. Luke toddled over again, this time supplied with a toy boat, to which a note was taped to the bottom.

"Boat!" he said, showing it to her and placing it in her lap. "See 'em?" Zoey nodded, pulled off the note, and handed the toy back to him. Chase watched in anticipation as she unfolded it. _It would make him really happy…_was the message on the third card. She was so intent on trying to figure out what the messages referred to, that she didn't see Chase nod toward Quinn one more time, who almost squealed aloud with excitement. She pulled a baseball out of her bag, and tried to get Luke over to where she was. Her son, however, was done playing messenger, and ignored his mother.

"Come _on,_ Luke," she whispered. "Come get the ball." Luke shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. She tried again, but the baby wouldn't budge. While pondering over what to do, an idea suddenly struck her.

"_Logan!"_ she hissed, trying to get her husband's attention. Logan turned with a confused expression on his face. She bent down and rolled the baseball on the ground towards him. "Get Luke over there."

"I thought that was _your_ job," he whispered back. "I don't want us to get caught!"

"It _was_ my job!" she said. "But he's not coming over anymore. You're Daddy. He'll listen to you."

"Oh, okay," Logan nodded his head. Crouching down to Luke's height, he waved the ball out in front of him. "Luke, come get the ball. Please? For Daddy?" Luke looked up, saw his father, and broke out in a wide grin. Luckily, instead of shouting, all he did was toddle over.

"Alright, buddy, this is the last time, okay?" Logan said, giving Luke the baseball and pointing him in the right direction. "Go give it to Aunt Zoey!" Luke nodded and waddled off in the direction he was instructed.

"Ball!" he said, handing Zoey the ball. "See 'em?" He waddled off, satisfied with himself, and continued his game with his stuffed animals.

Chase, by this time, was almost hyperventilating. Luke had done an amazing job for a toddler, and his parents had done equally well. It was his turn now. He grabbed the box from his pocket and hid it in his hand while Zoey found the message. After a few moments, she found that the message was not pinned to the ball, but written directly onto it. She turned it right side up to read the message, which Quinn had written in neat script after declaring Chase's "illegible". _Will you marry Uncle Chase? _It took a split second before Zoey realized just what the ball said. Her hand covered her mouth in shock, and

Chase saw her eyes fill up with tears as she looked at him. He flipped open the box to reveal the ring he'd spent months picking out and was sure she would love. She let out a sob as Chase sat up and got down on one knee.

"Oh, my God," she mumbled, letting out anther sob.

"Zoey, I love you so much," he said, holding the ring out in front of him. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Twelve years ago, you stole my heart. Now, I want you to have it, forever. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Zoey sobbed, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes while nodding furiously. Chase grinned and slid the ring on her finger, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Luke came over and encompassed both of them in a hug, not really sure why they were happy, but glad to be part of it all the same.

"And we've got the entire thing on tape!" Logan said, coming out from behind a tree carrying his video camera, still on the tripod. Quinn came to join them, sobbing just as hard, if not harder, than Zoey was.

"You two were in on this?" Zoey asked.

"Chase told us his idea a couple of days ago, and we thought it was perfect," she explained, picking up Luke, who had made his way over to her and was now demanding to be picked up. "We knew you'd never suspect, and Chase needed someone to give Luke the toys in the right order."

"It was my idea to get it all on film," Logan said. "This way you can have it to forever."

"And show it to your kids," Quinn said, looking at Luke and tickling his tummy, making him giggle in delight.

"Oh, my God," Zoey laughed, still crying. "We're getting married!"

"Well, that was what the ring was for," Chase teased, kissing her again. At that moment, in a child's playground, covered in dirt, sand and sunscreen, he was the happiest man alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: Well , this fic garnered more attention than I thought it was going to! Thanks for the reviews. Also, tid-bit of fact: For those of you who loved Luke in the last chapter, his personality and looks were based on my baby brother, Jason (who turns two in August). **

"You Zoey Brookes?" a gruff-looking man in a brown jumpsuit knocked on her office door with his clipboard. He was overweight and menacing looking, working a piece of chewing gum around his jaw and looking impatient.

"Yes," Zoey looked up from the document she was proof-reading and gave the man a confused look. "Can I help you?"

"Delivery for you," he motioned behind him to a younger man, obviously the new guy from the look of discontent on his face, who carried in a bouquet of roses. He gave her a shy smile as he placed them on her desk, and backed away quickly, coming to stand behind the man with the clipboard. "Sign here." He walked over to hand her the clipboard, which she signed with the blue highlighter she'd been proof-reading with. The man said nothing, but gave her an exasperated look.

"Come on, Sparky, we've got other deliveries to make," he said, cuffing the younger on the back of the neck and directing him out the door by the scruff of his jumpsuit. _How that man ever got a job in human relations is beyond me,_ Zoey thought, shaking her head.

"So….," the unmistakable excited voice of her co-worker, Susan, reached her ears as she snuck into her office and took up residence in the chair in front of her desk. "Who's it from?"

"Oh, you know…those hoards of secret admirers that send me flowers," Zoey laughed, taking the small envelope off the bouquet and opening it.

"So…Chase?"

"Yes," she said, reading the note.

"That man is head over heels for you," Susan said, squealing with excitement. Obviously, she'd been dabbling in the Harlequins again. She went through spells of reading five or six a week, and then spells of cursing their titles to oblivion. This was clearly a reading week. "What's the note say?"

"Umm…I'm not sure," Zoey said, a confused look on her face. There were two slips of paper, one in a language she didn't recognize, and the other from Chase. She put down the one that was foreign and picked up the one from her boyfriend. Susan went to stand behind her and read the note over her shoulder. _When you figure out what the other note says, come find me. I get off work at six. Love you, Chase._

"Ooh, mysterious," Susan said, picking up the other card and glancing at it. "I never pegged Chase for the secretive one."

"He's not, usually," Zoey said, taking back the card from her co-worker and puzzling over it for a moment. "Well, I mean…not anymore. He hid his crush on me for four years, but after that, he wasn't."

"I wonder what it says."

"No idea. I'll look it u—"

"Brookes! Stone!" a head of brown hair, perfectly styled and held together with so much hair spray it would make an environmentalist die of a heart attack appeared suddenly in the doorframe. "Do I pay you to stand around and gossip?"

"Uh…no?" Susan offered helpfully towards Alice, the brunette, while looking helplessly at Zoey. In reality, it wasn't even who paid them. Rather, it was her brother, who owned the company, who managed the payroll.

"Damn straight. Now get back to work, before I fire both of you," a satisfied smirk spread over her face, and a clicking of high heels on linoleum could be heard as she turned and walked down the hall.

"Can she do that?" Susan asked Zoey, looking fearfully toward the door.

"Probably not," Zoey said, moving the bouquet to the small table behind her facing the window. "But I'm not going to stick around to find out."

"Oh, and Ms. Brookes," Alice called. "I'll need that report on my desk by the end of the day."

"Oh, come _on,_" Zoey swore under her breath and glared at the open door. The report had just been put on her desk an hour ago, and was the largest she'd received all year. On average, a report could be done in two to three days, and then turned in. And that was with reports half the size of this one. "Is she _trying_ to kill me?"

"Don't worry, " Susan patted her arm consolingly. "If you die, I promise to avenge your death within an inch of my life. Or my job."

"What's the difference?"

"Good point. With the way Alice runs the show, this job becomes your life, huh?"

"Not if I can help it." Zoey looked at her watch. "I am out of here in two hours, and then Alice holds no sway over what I do."

"Going to meet with Mr. Wonderful after work, hmmm?" Susan teased. The entire floor thought it their prerogative to heckle their friend as much as possible, considering the amount of attention her boyfriend put into making sure she was thoroughly embarrassed at work with endless bouquets of flowers, surprise visits, and notes.

"Possibly. I need to figure out what this note says first."

"Actually, Ms. Brookes, you need to get that report done first." Alice's voice came again.

"How does she _do_ that?!" Susan whispered.

"No idea," Zoey picked up the highlighter again and bent over the stack of papers on her desk.

"Back to work, Ms. Stone!" Alice's voice sounded irritated, and Susan hopped off her perch on Zoey's desk and skittered out the door as if someone had given her a swift kick.

"Bitch," Zoey heard Susan mutter as she closed the door behind her. Zoey smiled and shook her head, before flipping to the next page and skimming through.

An hour later, her mind was a fog of paragraphs and bad grammar. She rubbed her temples, willing the migraine that was forming in the front of her head to go away. Unfortunately, she'd just run out of the aspirin she kept in her front desk drawer for emergencies. Not that it would have helped anyway. When she ran out last week, a check on the expiration date told her that that last time she would have been able to use it for any good it would do was back in high school. No wonder it didn't seem to be helping. She put her head down on her desk and welcomed the darkness that her enfolded arms provided. She had ten more pages to go. She'd done a shoddy job on the rest of the document, but if she spent a good amount of time on it, she'd never get it done on time. From the urgency in Alice's voice, and the way she'd been bugging her all afternoon to finish, Zoey could tell her job was on the line. And while she didn't want to get Alice fired, the prospect was looking really good right now.

Zoey reluctantly left the sanctuary of darkness as the familiar tinny sound of her ring tone reached her ears. Groaning, she grabbed the offending phone from the edge of her desk and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"So, have you figured out the message yet?" Lola's voice reached her ears, excitedly.

"No, I haven't had the time. Alice is trying to kill me again."

"Oh, darn."

"Wait a minute; I just got the note an hour ago. How did _you_ know about it?"

"Susan called me. She wanted me to bug you to solve it."

"And she couldn't do that herself because…?"

"Your boss apparently scares the crap out of her, and she wants to keep her job."

"Oh."

"Anyway, figure it out! Me, Susan, and Quinn are all dying to know what it says!"

"Figures."

"What figures?"

"You'd tell Quinn." Zoey laughed.

"Well, I couldn't very well keep it from her. Besides, she happened to be standing next to me when Susan called me."

"Ah, I see. Well, I should go. I have to finish proof-reading this report before Alice has my head."

"Okay. Figure it out!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You'd better!"

"I will!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

"I hate her, I hate her, I hate her." Zoey chanted her mantra under her breath as she made her way to Alice's office two and a half hours later. She was supposed to have been able to leave an hour and a half ago, and yet here she was.

"Ah, there you are, Zoey," Alice smiled a sickly-sweet smile that made Zoey's insides churn with disgust. "That report all ready to go?"

"Here," Zoey took the accursed document out from under her arm and all but threw it onto Alice's desk. "All proof-read and corrected."

"Excellent," Alice pulled it toward her and flipped through it excitedly.

"I'm going to head out," Zoey said, tiredly. "If you want anything more done, it will have to wait until tomorrow."

"No, no, you can go," Alice waved her hand at her dismissively. "You've done good work today."

"Thank you." Zoey said, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from cursing her boss to places unknown and undesirable. She turned to walk out, yawning. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she heard behind her. "Oh, and Zoey?"

"Yes?" Zoey turned around reluctantly. She really just wanted to get home, change into some comfortable clothes, and figure out what the note said to the sound of cheesy night time sitcoms.

"I'd hold onto the man of yours if I were you," Alice smirked. "He's a keeper."

"I'll keep that in mind," Zoey said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Zoey's empty apartment had never seemed more inviting, despite it being sweltering, due to the fact that she had shut off the air conditioner before going to work that morning. Muttering a few choice words at the temperature, she quickly flipped the _on_ switch on the air conditioner, and headed towards her bedroom. She quickly stripped out of her uncomfortable work clothes, instead choosing a pair of sweatpants and an old P.C.A. shirt. It may be sweltering, but in a few minutes, her apartment would be about twenty degrees cooler. As she threw her skirt in the hamper, the note from that afternoon fluttered to the floor.

"Alright," she said, picking it up off the floor. "Let's figure out what you say." She flopped heavily down onto her bed and pulled her laptop onto her lap. She frowned at the small piece of paper while the computer started up. She couldn't even recognize what language it was in, much less what it said. _Bean mo chroi, ta tu go halainn, An bpósfaidh tú me?_ Okay, Google was definitely a first stop.

Unfortunately, Google was not a helpful tool. A search of the phrase came up with random web pages about bean farmers and other useless information. She contemplated calling up Quinn for help, but decided against it, knowing Quinn would make her figure it out herself. Sighing, she retired to her keyboard.

"Alright, let's try typing in individual words," she muttered, erasing her original search and entering in a new one. Knowing "bean" would turn up only useless sites, she went to the first word that might possibly yield information. "chroi". Typing it into the search engine, she was delighted to find a multitude of pages that had nothing to do with farming.

"Chroi: an Irish-Gaelic term of endearment that is usually translated as 'darling' or 'my darling,'" Zoey read from the webpage she had clicked. Well, at least she'd narrowed down the language. And from what she knew of Gaelic, it was a dying language, and had many, many different syntaxes. Which meant she wasn't going to be very successful in finding information. She was in for a _long_ night. But, she already had the first part cracked. And she wasn't about to give up now.

"Okay, how about 'halainn'." she typed eagerly, and waited for it to receive the information. "Yes!" A search on that one word had brought up the entire phrase in the middle, and it meant "you are beautiful". The compliment registered vaguely as she moved on to the last part of the message. As she was ready to type in another word, her phone rang. She growled in frustration.

"Hello?"

"Figured it out yet?"

"Wow, de-ja-vu."

"Seriously, Zoey," Lola said.

"Almost."

"Well, what's it say?"

"I've got 'my darling, you are so beautiful'."

"Aw! Wait, he couldn't say that English?"

"Well, I'm not done yet,"

"Well, research, girl!"

"What do you think I'm doing?!"

"Sorry."

"Anyway, I think it's more important than that." Zoey typed "_bposfaidh"_ into the search engine and carefully balanced the phone between her cheek and shoulder. She clicked on a site the looked promising and took hold of the phone again, scrolling down the screen with her touchpad.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, he said for me to come find him when I figure ou—Oh, my God," Zoey dropped the phone into her lap.

"What? What does it say?!" Lola's voice was distant from the other end of the phone. "Zoey?"

"Oh, my God," Zoey said again, looking at the screen, and then back to the note to make sure the words were exactly the same. Her search on that one word had once again brought up the entire phrase, this one _Will you marry me?_

"Zoey?" Zoey suddenly jolted back into reality, and she hastily picked up the phone again.

"Lola? Yeah, I'm going to have to call you back,"

"What? Why? Zoey, what does the note say?!"

"I gotta go," with that, Zoey hung up the phone. She sat for another moment in complete shock, before nearly throwing the laptop off her lap and hopping off her bed. She groped under her bed for her sneakers. Finding them beneath an old shirt, she tugged them on and tied them quickly. Adrenaline pounded in her ears as she ran out the door, slamming it loudly behind her.

"Oh, my _God,_" she kept muttering to herself as she ran down the street. She realized as she reached the next street that she'd forgotten her car keys (luckily she hadn't locked her apartment…her house keys were on there, too), and was forced to walk to Chase's. He didn't live very far from where she was, and she didn't trust herself to drive right now anyway. She'd probably crash into a telephone pole in her haste. As it was, her brisk walk had suddenly turned into a jog, and her jog was quickly turning into a full out sprint. In less than five minutes, she reached his house. The lights were on, and the laugh reel from some sitcom could be heard through an open window. She stopped to catch her breath in front of the door, before knocking insistently.

"Oh, hey, Zo—" she cut him off by leaping into his arms and giving him a deep kiss. He seemed shocked at first, but quickly recovered and hugged her tight. After several minutes, they separated, short of breath.

"I take it you figured out what the note said?" he smiled.

"Yes!" she said, kissing him again.

"Yes you translated it, or yes you accept?"

"Both!" she said excitedly, almost coming apart at the seams as he held her. She couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Chase smiled sheepishly, taking a box out of his pocket and flipping it open to reveal a stunning diamond ring. He kissed her tenderly as he took her hand in his and slipped it on. And in that moment, despite wearing grubby sweats, and being dead tired, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: Anyone up for a little Christmas in August? Just a little plot bunny that nibble on me. A result of too much fanfiction and romantic music. **

Zoey sat at the kitchen table, staring at the phone in the corner and tapping her fingers anxiously on the wooden surface. _Where could he be? _She bit her bottom lip, slicing it so hard with her front tooth she tasted blood. She hastily wiped it away with the back of a finger before going back to worrying again.

"It's really coming down out there," Lola remarked, dipping her head to get a better angle to look out the kitchen window. Snow swirled in huge gusts, slapping hard against the window and causing the glass to rattle in its frame. It had been like this all day, and didn't show any sigh of letting up. She rinsed off a plate and placed it in the dishwasher, then wiped her hands on a dishcloth. "I can't even see the plant box on the windowsill." Lola sat down across from her friend and put a consoling hand on Zoey's arm.

The gang had gathered at Logan and Quinn's cabin in the mountains for Christmas, and while everyone else was thankful for the warmth against the ice and snow outside, Zoey worried. Chase had been in New York all week for work, and the way the weather was, it didn't look like he was going to be home for Christmas. His plane had been scheduled to leave that afternoon, but now he was probably stranded in an airport for the night. She only hoped he _was_ trapped in some airport, and not anything worse. The snow-storm spread from northern California all the way to Denver, and it was getting worse every minute.

"All right!" Logan came in, toting a bottle of brown liquid and a package of plastic cups. "What would Christmas be without eggnog?"

"A sober one?" Lola offered, but took the cup Logan handed her and took a sip.

"And what Christmas without a little drunkenness?"

"I'm not even going to answer that," Quinn said, coming in and giving her husband a peck on the cheek. "But I'll take some eggnog, if you don't mind."

"Have all you want. It will just make the job of seducing you later all the more fun," Logan waggled an eyebrow at her as she smirked at him. "And easier."

"Since when have you ever had trouble seducing me?"

"Good point," Logan gave her a hearty kiss before pouring himself a glass.

"Looks like you've been nipping into the eggnog a little early," Michael laughed, coming downstairs. "I could hear you at the other end of the house."

"Just drunk on Christmas spirit, my friend," Logan handed him a plastic cup full of the liquid and smiled. Michael mock toasted him and took a healthy swig.

"Jeez, Logan," Michael coughed and set the cup down on a nearby end table. "How much alcohol is _in_ that?"

"You don't want to know," Logan said, taking another sip of his. "I stopped measuring after awhile."

"Okay, I think that's enough for you." Quinn laughed and took his cup away. "I saw you drinking as much as you were making this morning. No more."

"Okay, but if I can't have eggnog, you're going to have to listen to hours and hours of annoying Christmas carols."

"I can deal with that."

"Bring it on!" Logan flipped on the stereo and fiddled with the dial, going through a great deal of fuzz before reaching a station he found satisfactory. The dulcet tones of _I'll Be Home for Christmas_ wafted through the house, and Zoey sadly rested her head on her hand.

"He'll be okay, Zo," Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. Zoey said nothing, but continued tapping her fingers on the table.

"—winds at forty miles an hour southwest, precipitation at twelve inches and rising. All citizens are urged to remain indoors and out of the storm until further notice. Current temperature is at ten degrees Farenheit," the mechanical voice of the emergency broadcast system flooded the room, ringing in the ears of all present.

"Well, it's a good night to batten down the hatches," Michael said, trying to steer the conversation away from what Zoey was worrying about. There was a moment of silence as they listened to the wind howl outside the house before all of them jumped at the ring of the phone.

"I'll get it," Lola said, motioning for Logan to turn down the radio as _Santa Clause is Coming to Town_ beat loudly through the speakers. She picked up the receiver and habitually cradled it between her cheek and shoulder. "Hello? Chase!"

"Chase?" Zoey said, sitting up from her slumped position.

"Yeah, I'll give her the phone," Lola said, walking over to where a very anxious Zoey sat. "I promise I won't put you on speaker. Come on, don't you trust me? Okay, here she is. Talk to you later." She handed Zoey the phone with a smile.

"Chase?" Zoey said, holding the phone with both hands. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Lola and Quinn push the guys out of the room, with whispered demands of privacy for their friend.

"Hey, Zo," he sounded very far away. Zoey punched the volume button on the phone a few notches higher. "How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Zoey smiled in spite of herself.

"Humor me."

"I'm fine, we're all fine. Logan's tipsy from too much eggnog and blasting Christmas carols, but other than that, it's great."

"Sounds like fun."

"I've been so worried. Where are you?"

"Currently? In a gas station outside Las Vegas."

"Las Vegas? How did you end up there?"

"I caught a plane before the airports were shut down that took me as far as Denver, and then I took a bus here."

"Where are you planning on staying for the night?"

"Where you are."

"What?"

"I'm coming home for Christmas, Zoey, even if I have to walk there."

"Chase, there's a blizzard outside, with snow piling up at three inches an hour. Everything's shut down. There's no way you're going out in that kind of weather."

"Just a bit of snow. It can't stop me."

"Chase, just stay where you are. I've been worried about you all day, at least let me know you'll be safe for tonight."

"Zo, I'm not spending Christmas in an old gas station."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"No Christmas is nice unless you're with me." She heard his voice soften over the line. "Don't worry. I'll be home for Christmas. I promise."

"Chase—"

"Listen, I have to go…I'm holding up a long line of people, and there are some guys here large enough to use me as a toboggan." She knew it was a ploy to get her to laugh, but Zoey wasn't falling for it. He sighed. "I love you, Zoey."

"I love you, too. Be careful."

"Always. I'll see you later tonight." And with that, the line went dead.

Zoey sighed as she looked at the phone, which was now emitting a constant dial tone. She had so hoped Chase would be here for Christmas. But between the weather and the lack of transportation, it now seemed impossible. _What on earth are you going to do Chase? What are you going to do?_ She only hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. With the way the wind and snow were blowing, a person could get trapped and freeze to death before they got half a mile down the road.

She went through different possibilities he might take to get home. He could hitchhike, but who would be out in this kind of storm? He could always walk, but then he could get himself killed from hypothermia, or end up in the hospital. And neither of them wanted to spend Christmas there. _Don't walk,_ she pleaded earnestly. _Don't walk to me. Stay where you are._ She knew he couldn't hear her, no matter how much she begged and wished.

She instead settled for snuggling down on the couch. Her friends had returned to the living room, but Chase's call and the guilt that they were celebrating while an important member of their gang wasn't there killed the buzz that had been in the room just fifteen minutes before. Being close to eleven, and out of things to do, people began to drift upstairs, to warm showers and cozy beds, to settle down and dream of pleasant things.

Zoey instead remained on the couch, watching the snow twirl in great cyclones outside the windows. She pulled a blanket around her, only vauguely aware that the fire Logan had stoked earlier had long since gone out. The mournful tones of Christmas songs that told of lost loves, and of Christmases better spent drifted through the room. And while she felt delightfully drowsy, Zoey knew she would get no sleep tonight. Not while Chase was out God knows where.

When the chill in the room made her fingers start to grow numb, Zoey resigned herself to getting another fire ready, though she knew very little about how to go about it. Three false tries, two banged toes, and one burned thumb later, a small flame shot up from the log in the fireplace, and quickly consumed it and the surrounding wood. She was satisfied, and wrapped herself up in her blanket again, this time choosing a small rocking chair closer to the fire.

Her knitting sat near by, a stress-relieving habit she had picked up in college, and had yet to quit. She found the gentle click-clack of needles and the fluid movement of yarn through her hand to be soothing, and the growth of knitted fabric after hours spent working it was rewarding. At the moment, she was working on a small blanket for her cousin, who was expecting a baby boy any day now. The entire family was in an uproar of excitement about it, this baby being the first of Zoey's generation to be born. The baby shower had already come and gone, but this wasn't something to be given at a shower. This was to presented the day the baby was born, provided she got it done in time. If not, a few days after wouldn't hurt.

She was unaware about the passage of time, but a sudden ache in her fingers from knitting and a throbbing in her back from sitting in one position for too long had her looking up at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly three in the morning. _Wow, time flies,_ she thought, setting down her work and retiring to the couch. She wondered what she could do to fill the hours between now and dawn, as sleep was not on the horizon. She wondered where Chase was, and hoped that he wasn't walking along some deserted highway, struggling to stay warm. She shuddered thinking about it.

A clatter at the door awoke her drowsy senses not long after. Someone had found the spare key hidden under the mat and was trying to get in. _Who robs a house on Christmas Eve?_ She sat up. _Okay, make that Christmas morning. Someone's got a sick, sick mind._ She tried to look out the glass of the front door a few feet away, but found the darkness of the room and the shadows cast by the fire made it impossible. She was frozen the couch, unable to dash upstairs to safety or call for help. A large, gangly figure stepped inside and shook a layer of snow off.

"That's it, I'm moving to the Bahamas," the figure said, throwing off a soaking wet scarf and stepping out of his coat. He shook his head, and an inch, at least, of snow settled on the floor at his feet.

"Chase?" she could hardly believe it. Yet, here he was, soaked to the bone and shivering, standing in the doorway. She sprung up from the couch and scrambled over to where he was. He scooped her up in a hug that lifted her off the ground, soaking her thin t-shirt (okay, so it was his t-shirt. But really, he didn't seem to mind.) in an instant. But she felt neither the wetness or the cold.

"Oh, Zo, I've missed you so much," he set her on her feet again and gave her a sound kiss.

"But….what? How in the world did you _get_ here?"

"I hitchhiked with a couple trying to get home to the next town over, and though the roads were horrible, we managed to make it without much incident. We had a few skids, but the roads _are_ covered in an inch of ice. After that, I just laced up my boots real tight and walked over here."

"Chase, it's at least three miles to the nearest town." Seeing that he still shivering, she took his hands between her own, trying to warm them.

"Five, actually."

"There's a blizzard outside!"

"I know. I think I brought some of it in with me," he nodded his head in direction of his wet outdoor clothes, which were sitting in a soggy pile a few feet away.

"It's below freezing!"

"Yep, but lucky me. No frostbite," he took his hands from where she held them and spread his fingers to show her. "Perfectly fine."

"You're such an idiot!" she admonished, hooking both arms around his neck and pulling him for a tight hug. "Such an idiot."

"It's okay," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. "I'm here now. I told you I'd be home for Christmas, didn't I?"

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!" she pulled back and nailed him with a glare that held more concern than malice. He chuckled and ran the back of his hand down her cheek.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You know I can't be away from you for very long. After that time in England, I feel like I leave my heart behind every time I leave," he kissed her forehead and watched her expression soften.

"Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," she took hold of his hand and dragged him towards the fireplace.

Ten minutes later, he was changed into a new set of clothes, made to sit in front of the fire, and given a large mug of coffee with instructions to drink the entire thing. He laughed it all off rather good-naturedly, taking a sip of the coffee every now and then to appease her conscience. His coat and scarf hung on a peg to dry near the fire. Zoey hovered around, folding blankets, adjusting clothes near the fire. Eventually, he set the mug down and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms securely around her.

"You don't need to bustle around so much," he said, tracing small circles on the top of their intertwined hands. "I'm fine. Not even a sniffly nose."

"I know," she said, leaning back against him. God, how she'd missed him this week. It was so good to have him back in the same room. Hell, it was good to have him in the same time zone.

"Besides, I have a present for you,"

"It's not Christmas yet,"

"It's after midnight, dear. It's Christmas day,"

"Oh, right,"

"Anyway," he said, taking one arm away and reaching into the pocket of his coat that hung nearby. He pulled out something small, keeping it hidden in the palm of his hand as he brought it to rest in her lap. He smiled and handed it to her. "Open it."

It was a small black box, surprisingly dry despite the journey it had gone in the past twenty-four hours. She flipped open the top to reveal a simple band of gold and diamonds. _Is that what I think it is?_ She turned in his lap to look at him.

"Chase?"

"Will you marry me, Zoey?" the question was asked in a hushed whisper, and he looked nervous, as though he was sure she would reject him. She looked from the ring in her hand to his expectant face and back. A wide smile broke over her face.

"Of course I will!" she all but shrieked, spinning a complete one-eighty and launching into a hug so forceful it knocked both of them to the ground. He said nothing, but the ear-to-ear grin and the passionate kiss said volumes. He slipped the ring onto her hand and pulled her close. She settled into his embrace, relaxed for the first time that night.

"Yes, you're an idiot," she murmured into his shirt. "But you're _my_ idiot. And I love you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: I have noticed a lack of Choey Christmas spirit (or any winter holiday, for that matter), so I've set out to correct it. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwankza, Happy Winter Solstice, and whatever other winter holiday you celebrate. **

"Okay, how many cookies have we made so far?" Lola asked, sighing dramatically and fixing a green gumdrop to the chest of a gingerbread man with icing. She held it up for inspection before dropping it into a large metal tin with a dozen others and grabbing another. "I feel like I've been doing this for days."

"Lola, it's only been an hour," Zoey said, cracking a smile. "And we've only made one batch of cookies."

"This is the last time I indulge Michael in one of his traditions," Lola replied. She looked wistfully out the window, where a new snowfall beckoned snowmen and snowball fights. The gang had arrived at Logan's cabin in the remote mountains the day before, and Lola had been dying to play in the snow, complaining that California didn't get enough of it. "I mean, he's not even here to help!"

"Did you really expect him to?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point!"

"Actually," Quinn looked up from her gingerbread man, which was sporting a lab coat made of icing, complete with pocket protector and pens. Quinn was busy at the moment piping on a tie that looked suspiciously like a strand of DNA. "None of the guys are here."

"I know," Zoey frowned in confusion. "I wonder where they are. I haven't seen them all afternoon."

"They'll be back when they get hungry," Quinn reasoned. Finished with her tie, she set about making a microscope from black licorice and gumdrops. "Well, at least Michael will."

"With the amount of breakfast he ate, I'm surprised he'd even be able to eat this week!" Lola threw another cookie haphazardly into the metal bin and picked up another. She frowned at it, showing her disdain at being kept indoors by piping a scowl onto its face.

"He's a bottomless pit; where have you been for the last ten years?" Zoey asked, rescuing the poor cookie and wiping the frown off with her thumb. "Look, Quinn and I can handle things here, why don't you go outside? Maybe you'll find the guys and start a snowball fight or something."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Lola said, dashing away from the kitchen table so fast her chair teetered dangerously on it's hind legs, almost crashing onto the linoleum. In less than five minutes, she was wrapped in warm clothes and out the door.

"That was fast," Zoey said, sitting down wearily into the chair that Lola had just vacated. She sighed. It had been a long morning.

"So, how are you?" Quinn asked, giving her shoulder a rub. "Still nauseous?"

"Not really," she replied, giving a small smile. "Though I never want to eat food again for as long as I live. I'm just really tired, that's all."

"Well, you really shouldn't be pushing it," Quinn frowned with disapproval, gesturing to the cookies that lay scattered on the table.

"I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"So did that beauty contest back in high school, but—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll let up."

"Thank you. If Chase knew, he'd have my head."

"I know."

"When are you telling him, anyway?"

"Tonight."

"He's going to flip out."

"I hope so."

"He will, trust me. Now, go take a nap, and I'll clean up here."

"You don't have to—" Zoey went to clear the table, but had her hands batted away rather forcefully by her friend. Quinn fixed her with a glare and pointed in the direction of the stairs.

"Fine. I'm going."

"Good girl." Zoey gave Quinn a mock-glare as she retreated up the stairs.

Two hours later, Zoey awoke to find that the cloudy gray sky she had fallen asleep in had given way to an inky black night. Disoriented, she groped for the alarm clock on the bedside table. She sighed with relief that it wasn't terribly late. She wanted to be able to sleep later that night, after all. Giving a yawn, she sat up and stretched. She ran a brush through her hair (which now resembled something the cat would have dragged in) before making her way downstairs.

The guys had returned…or at least Michael and Logan had. They were currently making a ruckus singing Christmas carols loudly, and terribly off-key, while piling decorations onto the tree as fast as they possibly could. It seemed to be a competition, with each man trying to get more ornaments on the tree than the other.

"Guys, it's not a race!" Quinn said, ducking out of the way as a little drummer boy was thrown onto the tree above her head. "You're going to break something!"

"They're all plastic or wood," Michael retorted. "Can't break 'em."

"You _can_ break them, just not as easily," Lola came in from the kitchen, snatching a plastic icicle out of Logan's hand before he could stab Michael's hand with it. They ignored her, and continued to toss ornaments on the poor fir tree.

"How did this come about?" Zoey asked amusedly, catching and fumbling a red plastic ornament that was inadvertently (she thought) thrown at her.

"Well, it started with a test of manhood by hauling in the Christmas tree," Quinn said. "And then some insults, some threats, some challenges, and then carnage of Logan's family's Christmas ornaments."

"Oooh, ouch," Zoey winced. "Hey, where's Chase?"

"Oh, yeah," Michael stopped in his mad dash for glory to look at her. "I almost forgot. He's waiting for you out in the woods."

"The woods?"

"Yep. Down by that pond in the clearing."

"Seriously?"

"No, Zoey, I'm joking."

"Sorry, it just sounds a little unusual."

"Zo, I'm sorry to break this to you, but Chase is a little unusual."

"Oh, come on; he's no more unusual than you two," Zoey rolled her eyes. She glanced out the window, which showed a clear, pitch-black night. "Anyway, how am I supposed to get there? I only took that path once yesterday, and I'm not sure I could find it again."

"Covered. Chase says to follow the lights along the path,"

"Okay…"

"Hey, I'm just relaying the message. I'm not allowed to tell you anything else."

"Alright," Zoey turned to quickly grab her coat. "How long has he been out there?"

"I'd say about ten minutes, give or take," Michael replied.

"Then I'd better hurry before he freezes," Zoey hastily threw on a scarf and mittens.

"Or falls into the pond!" Logan offered from his post by the tree. He wasn't surprised when the red ornament Zoey had been holding came speedily towards his head. He laughed heartily as Zoey opened the door to go outside.

"Zo! Wait!" Quinn called to her just before Zoey stepped outside. She grabbed a small package from the end table near the couch and tossed it to her friend. "You might need this." She gave Zoey a sly wink as she pocketed the gift in her large overcoat and stepped out into the frigid cold air.

"Follow the lights….follow the lights…." Zoey muttered to herself as she tromped through the three feet of snow the area had received that day. Her breath came in clouds of mist, but luckily there was no wind. "What lights? Where?" A few more feet brought her the answer. Along a snow-laden path, lay a trail of tea lights ensconced in tall glass jars, so as not to be snuffed out by a passing breeze.

"Oh…_those_ lights." Feeling a little foolish, Zoey started on the path the lights indicated she should take. She became more and more grateful for the small luminance they put out as she walked deeper into the woods, now scary and ominous because of the dark.

A quarter of a mile of hiking later brought her to a small clearing, and, as Michael had said, a small oasis of a pond, now completely frozen over with a thick layer of ice.

"Oh, good. Michael didn't forget to tell you," came a familiar voice with an amused chuckle. Chase stood in the middle of the pond, looking not a bit cold, despite the fact that he'd been waiting for a good twenty minutes or more on the freezing pond. "I thought he might. He and Logan were arguing over who was more 'man enough' to haul the tree out of the woods when I told him, so I was ninety-nine percent sure I'd be waiting out here for hours before he remembered."

"Well, he would have if I hadn't asked where you were," Zoey smiled warmly at her boyfriend as she made her way carefully across the ice to where he was. "He was throwing ornaments on the tree when I left."

"I think that's referred to as 'trimming'."

"What he and Logan were doing could in no way be classified as trimming a tree. That requires a level of restraint and refinement. Something they are sorely lacking."

"Oh,"

"Lola and Quinn were ducking for cover, if that gives you an indication."

"Ouch. Logan is sleeping on the couch tonight."

"If he's lucky." By this time, Chase had pulled her into his arms and the two were rocking to a soft, romantic song emanating from a large boom box positioned on the far edge of the lake. They were left in silence for a few minutes as their laughter over Logan's unfortunate fate died away. The music played on uninterrupted, changing songs seamlessly, though neither particularly noticed.

"I wonder how many times we've danced like this," Chase murmured in her ear, breaking the calm silence. "Since we've known each other."

"I've lost count," she smiled into his shoulder, fondly remembering the _first_ time they'd danced together—around the fountain at P.C.A. God, he was sweet. "Thought I'm not sure we've ever dance quite like this. Did you do all of this?" She gestured to the pond set-up, looking around for the first time. And what she saw took her breath away.

The entire pond was surrounded by small tea-lights, much like the path, and they seemed to float on top of the ice as they reflected themselves in the clear surface. The glasses kept them from blowing out completely, but it didn't stop the passing breeze to make the flames dance, scattering the light over the ice. The trees around the pond had been tastefully decorated with white lights, and twinkled merrily in the evening air. Everything around them in the woods was pitch black, absent of their oasis of light.

"Wow," was the only coherent thing that came from her, and she gripped his hand tightly as he laughed quietly in her ear.

"Well, I had a little help from the guys," he said, twirling her away from him for a moment before clutching her tightly to him. "The lights on the trees were Logan's idea."

"Impressive."

"That's what I said. However, I also said that since it was his idea, he was taking them down."

"Good man."

"Thank you. But, admittedly, I didn't set this up to be complimented."

"You didn't?"

"Nope. I had an ulterior motive," he kissed her tenderly before continuing. "You know, I remember the day I met you."

"You ran into that flagpole so hard, I'm surprised you remember anything from eighth grade."

"You certainly made an impression, that's for sure," he laughed. "I knew from the moment I saw you I was never going to let you go, romantically or otherwise. And as soon as I hit that pavement, I was too far gone in love to care that I was bleeding."

"Badly."

"I remember calling my mother later that night to tell her that I was all moved in and fine," he said. "I didn't even get out a 'hello, how are you?' before she was like 'Who is she? What's she like? Is she cute? Have you asked her out yet?' I was baffled. She said she could hear my ear-to-ear grin over the phone."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. She was more annoying than Michael," he cleared his throat before mimicking his mother's voice. "Chase dear, you should really tell that girl how you feel. Your father asked me out four times before I said yes to him. Give it a shot." Zoey laughed. It really was a good impression of the loving, matronly figure. "She eventually threatened to ground me for the rest of my life if I didn't tell you by the time we got out of high school. She was the big supporter for me to go to England. She acted like she hated the idea, but you could see the wheels turning in her head. She's the one who convinced my father to buy me the plane ticket."

"I can see that,"

"You bet. My mother is about as transparent in her motivations as shrink wrap. Anyway, I remember being _so_ nervous on that plane ride. The stewardess eventually offered me a paper bag because I was starting to hyperventilate. I had no idea what I was going to say. After all, transatlantic travel is not the best way to keep your feelings for your best friend under wraps. As it turns out, I didn't have to worry, because you weren't there!

"That talk we had on webcam that day will be forever imprinted on my mind. To finally have my feelings out in the open was terrifying—I swore I was going to die as you were smiling at me with that adorable confused smile. I was sure I'd blown it….our friendship was over…you thought I was weird….I'd be out of your life forever. But to find out you loved me too….," he trailed off, the grin on his face growing wider. "Well, that was incredible. Hearing the words 'I love you' come from your lips was the greatest day of my life." He leaned in and kissed her passionately. He pulled back with a twinkle in his eye. "Until today."

"Wait—what?" Zoey was thoroughly confused, and still a little light-headed from the kiss. She watched in shock as Chase pulled out a small black box and easily slipped down until he was kneeling on one knee in front of her. She covered her mouth with a hand, for once unable to think of a single thing to say.

"Zoey, I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone in my life. For the last ten years, you've occupied my every thought. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. I've given my heart over to you willingly, and now I'm asking you to make it yours forever. Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Of course!" Zoey sobbed; by this time tears were running down her face and she tugged him up by the lapels of his open winter coat to kiss him with vigor. She barely felt him take her hand from his chest and slip the ring onto her finger.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me," he smiled, tears of his own making their way down his cheeks. He wrapped her in a tight embrace and breathed "I love you" over and over into her ear. Suddenly remembering _her_ ulterior motive for meeting him out here, she chuckled into his chest.

"What are you laughing about, hmmm?" Chase asked, pulling away from her slightly and placing delicate kisses on the hand that now wore his ring.

"I was just thinking about how I came here to surprise _you_, and now I find it's been switched around on me."

"A surprise, huh? What kind of surprise?"

"Here," Zoey pulled the small box she'd carefully wrapped in green and red paper that morning. "Open it." Chase raised a questioning eyebrow but obligingly tugged the ribbon and paper off and lifted the lid. He raised a small rattle out of the box and peered at the cursive writing embossed on the front.

"Baby's first Christmas," he read, his eyebrows knit in confusion. A moment later, Zoey giggled as the realization of what the rattle said dawned on him. "Wait—are you?"

"Yes, Chase," she reached to cup his cheek in her hand. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh, my God!" he shrieked with joy and spun her around the ice, ignoring the fact that they could slip at any time. "When did you find out?"

"Last week. I was going to wait until Christmas, but when you said you wanted to meet me, I figured it was close enough," she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a small, fuzzy black-and-white sonogram picture. "And here is what he looks like, or did as of last week."

"He?" Chase took the picture and stared at it in wonder.

"Or she. It's too soon to tell. You're not upset, are you?" Zoey bit her lip anxiously.

"Upset?" Chase said the word as thought he'd never heard of the emotion in his life. He looked at her seriously. "Zoey, this has been the best day of my entire existence. I have never been happier. I am marrying the love of my life, and we're having a child. It's the life I've always dreamed of, and there is no way I could be upset right now." He rained kisses down onto her and hugged her tight in reassurance.

"I love you, Chase," she said, snuggling into his open jacket and breathing a sigh of contentment.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that," he chuckled as they picked up their dancing where they'd left off, watching the candles on the edge of the pond flicker almost in time to the music. Two new lives—one as a married couple, another as parents—had been born from the same evening, and neither would trade it for anything.


End file.
