29A/N: So, due to an very large majority (about 100%), here is the continuation.
"Over here, Miss Quinn."
Quinn turned in the direction of the voice calling her name, scanning the crowd before her eyes settled on the man calling out to her. He was dressed in a black suit, with black leather shoes and a black bowler hat to match. He wasn't yet an old man, around 60, but his hair was white underneath the hat and wrinkles adorned his face giving him a weathered look. He was smiling broadly at the young girl who bounced quickly across to him, grinning madly as she did.
"Charles!" She yelled as tackled him with a hug, causing him to stumble backwards a little.
"Calm down Miss Quinn!" he said as he patted the girl's back while she death-gripped his torso. "It's only been six months!"
Quinn pulled away from the hug and rolled her eyes at him. "How many times? You don't need to call me 'Miss' anymore. Just Quinn will do fine."
"I've called you Miss Quinn all your life, I see no good reason to stop now." He rebutted, as his straightened up his attire. "Shall we go and collect your luggage, Miss Quinn?"
"It's okay to admit if you were scared, I won't think any worse of you."
"Mum!" He groaned out in frustration. "I was fine okay? I just slept through the flight."
No way was he telling her about Quinn. She'd interrogate him about her endlessly for the entire time he was here. He was not prepared for that level of torture. He already rolled down the sleeves of his grey v-neck to cover up the writing on his forearm but not before his dad had seen it and raised an eyebrow at him. He had mouthed "Later" over his mother's head and his Dad seemed to accept that for now.
"I'm just worried about my poor baby!" His mother lamented as if he had been sentenced to death. He watched two girls his age snicker into their hands as they walked past and overheard his mother. He carefully peeled his mother off his body and held her at arm's length.
"Look, I'm fine and I'm back on solid ground so I'm safe." He told her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
"Unless you get hit by a car." His father interjected.
His mother gasped and he glared at his dad.
"Dwight! How could you even think about something like that happening to your own son!" His mother smacked his father on the arm.
"Calm down Mary!" His father started, chuckling to himself at his wife's behaviour. "I was only joking!"
"It's still a terrible thing to say." She complained, landing another smack on his arm for good measure.
The luggage carousal which they were standing next to started up and bags began making their past the gathered crowd. Sam welcomed the distraction from his mother (who looked like she might attach herself to him in case any misfortune may befall him) and started looking for his bag among the many that were traveling past him. He looked down the line of bags coming towards him and saw an elderly man struggling to lift a large suitcase off the carousal. Not one to ignore someone in need, Sam approached the man and grabbed the side of the bag helping to lift it on to the ground
The man took off his hat and wiped his brow before turning to Sam. "Thank you, Sir."
"Don't worry about it." Sam said, offering a smile as he walked back towards his parents passing his bag along the way and lifting it off with one hand without breaking stride. He stopped in front of his parents who were currently engaged arguing about whether he had lost weight. "So, where'd you guys park?"
Quinn watched as Charles (who had insisted on fetching her luggage for her) struggle with the weight of the bag as he approached her, placed it at her feet and then stretched out his back. Quinn just shook her head, pulled up the handle on the bag and wheeled it towards the exit. Charles caught up to her as she waited outside the airport doors for him.
"So where did you park?" Quinn asked him as he was still catching his breath.
Charles walked forward and opened the door of the limo waiting directly in front of the airport.
"Are you serious?" Quinn exclaimed "I explicitly told her not to do something like this!"
"Ms Fabray very much insisted on this." Charles told her, somewhat apologetically.
"I think I'll take a cab there." Quinn said eyeing the bright pink limo with distaste.
"Please don't start off you visit by giving your mother an aneurysm , Miss Quinn." Charles said he waited for her to enter the limo.
"Fine." She said as she approached the vehicle and slid in. "But you're putting my luggage in."
"Of course, Miss Quinn." Charles said as he closed the door behind her.
Quinn looked around the inside of the limo (also bright pink) and sighed. Of course her mother would do exactly the opposite of what she asked. She spotted a mini-bar and helped herself to a scotch on the rocks.
Charles entered the limo through the other door and immediately took Quinn's drink away from her.
"Miss Quinn, you are not yet the legal age to be drinking!" He said as he placed the drink out of her reach.
"Charles!" She whined. "You're no fun."
"It's my job to take care of you and your sister. I wouldn't be doing my job if I let break the law now would I?
"No-one would know." She complained, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.
"I would know, Miss Quinn." Charles pressed the button to radio to the driver. "We're ready to go when you are, John."
Quinn sighed as the limo pulled away from the airport; she was definitely in for a fun trip if things continued like this.
Sam watched the limo pull away as he exited through the airport doors, a parent on either side.
"Who would rent one of those things?" His father exclaimed. "They're just ridiculous."
"I don't get the pink." Sam said. "Black's much cooler."
"That's the problem with kids today. They only care about what's cool." Dwight said, shaking his head as they family walked through the car park to the Evan's family station wagon.
"Hey gorgeous, good to see your still running." Sam said, giving the car a pat.
"Yep, 20 years and still going strong." Dwight said proudly as he loaded Sam's bag into the old, beat-up car.
"Can I drive Dad?"
"Not a chance." Dwight replied as he unlocked the driver's door and gave it the required taps for it to open. He opened the doors for his wife and eldest before starting the engine (after a few tries). Sam spoke to his parents about how his job was going and asked them about theirs during the drive to his family home. It wasn't a large place but it was the best they could afford after Dwight had lost his job. They pulled into the driveway and Sam was about to unload his bag from the trunk when he was hit by a ball of what seemed to be made of long blonde hair.
"SAMMY!" Stacy squealed as he hugged around the waist.
"Hey Stace!" He chuckled as he returned her hug. "You're getting so big now! Are you as tall as Mum yet?"
"Taller!" She exclaimed and went a stood next to her mother to prove it.
Sam shouldered as bag and threw an arm across his sisters shoulders as they entered the house. He found Stevie sitting on the couch watching TV.
"Hey Stevie." He said to the back of his brother's head.
"Sup." His brother replied, waving over his shoulder.
"Wow, great to see you too." Sam shook his head and returned his attention to his mother. "So where can I put this?" He asked, gesturing to his bag.
"Oh, you're sharing with Stevie." His Mum told him.
That provoked a reaction from his younger brother who spun around on the couch to face everyone. "What! Why can't he share with Stacy?"
"Because she's a girl." His mother told him.
"So?"
"So she needs her privacy more than you."
"But…"
"Stevie." His father warned him.
Stevie flopped down on the couch out of sight. "This is so not fair."
"We're here." The driver spoke across the intercom as the limo drove through the gates of the Fabray Mansion and continued down the long driveway.
"Now, Miss Quinn, you are going to be nice to your mother aren't you?" Charles asked her cautiously.
"If she's nice to me, I'll be perfectly civil."
"Well, you do seem to have a habit of deliberately antagonizing her…"
Quinn gasped and adopted a mock offended tone. "Charles! Whatever could you mean?"
"Just please be nice." Charles finished as the limo came to a stop and they exited the limo. "You go ahead Miss Quinn, I'll bring your bag up."
"Remember it has wheels!" Quinn called over her shoulder as she strolled up to the big wooden double doors of the mansion. She rang the doorbell and a man who she didn't recognize opened the doors. He was wearing green overalls, gardening gloves and had dirt smears on his cheeks.
"Um, hello… Can I help you?" He asked her, his Irish accent on display.
"Rory! What are you doing!" A posh British accent floated to Quinn's ears. The owner of the voice appeared next the boy named Rory, wearing a full butler's get-up. The man turned and noticed Quinn. "Oh dear! Miss Quinn, I am so sorry about this welcome!"
Quinn sighed. Walter was nearly as bad as her mother. "It's fine, Walter."
"What's wrong?" Rory asked.
"Miss Quinn here is the daughter of Ms Fabray!" Walter explained dramatically.
"Oh." Rory stuck out his dirty glove towards her. "Hi, I'm Rory."
Walter quickly slapped his hand away before Quinn could take it. "That is not how you introduce yourself to a member of the family!"
Quinn rolled her eyes at Walter and stuck her own hand out to Rory. "Hi Rory. I'm Quinn."
Walter covered his eyes as Rory shook her hand and grinned. "Pleased to meet you."
Walter shooed Rory away. "Go back out to garden, go! And don't you dare get any dirt of anything."
He gestured for Quinn to enter the house. "I apologize for my nephew, Rory. He wanted to travel to America and my brother asked me to look after him."
"So you made him a work as a gardener?" Quinn asked as they stood in the entrance foyer.
"Well, I couldn't very well make him a butler could I?" Walter scoffed at the idea.
Charles approached the pair, wheeling Quinn's luggage behind him as Quinn's mother descended down the grand staircase.
"Quinny! How are you dear?" Judy Fabray called out to her daughter as she held her arms open for a hug, a half full wine clutched tightly in one hand.
"Fine thanks, Mum." Quinn replied as she hugged her mother. "Although I didn't appreciate the limo."
"Oh, come now darling! There's nothing wrong with a little style." Judy said as she held her daughter at arm's length and gave her a once over. "Speaking of style, what are you wearing? You look like a poor person dear."
"I look fine Mum. Where can I put my things?"
"Whatever you say dear. Your old room is just the way you left it as long as none of the staff have taken anything."
"Mum, how many times? No-one steals anything." Quinn exclaimed as she took her bag off Charles and started up the stairs.
"Oh, and your sister is up there somewhere, be sure to say hello." Judy said as she finished the last of her wine.
"More wine, ma'am?" He asked as he took the glass from her.
"Make it vodka. My daughters are here."
A/N: Obviously this is not the last chapter. There shall be more! (and probably more frequently... probably.)