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“It’s morning?” Abby asked more herself than Quinn and ran both of her hands over her face. “Wow! Did I wake you up?”

“About four hours ago, yeah. I woke up when you weren’t in bed and found you here, but I let you write and fell back asleep.” Quinn walked into the office and set the coffee on the desk. “I assume this is part of it, too, huh?”

“What?”

“Waking up and you being in your office, writing, instead of in bed.” Quinn leaned down and kissed her quickly.

“Not usually. I just felt something and came in here, knowing that I had to write it.”

“Cheryl and Diana?”

“No, actually. I know their names now.”

“Who?”

“The first couple,” she replied before she picked up her coffee and took a sip. “This is perfect. How did you know how to make this for me?”

“I didn’t. I just added the creamer you had in the fridge and hoped for the best. Did you get any sleep at all?” Quinn leaned back against Abby’s desk.

“A few hours before I woke up. But, Quinn, I know their names.”

“You said that, babe. I take it, you’re dying to tell me what you wrote?”

“Yes.”

“Can you do it over breakfast?”

“I don’t think I have any breakfast food here. Cereal, maybe. I usually skip it.”

“We can go to the diner, then. I’m ordering a big stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon. What are you getting?”

“Can I share your pancakes?”

“Nope.” Quinn winked at her. “But I’ll buy you a stack of your own. Come on. Let’s get dressed, babe. I’m borrowing clothes because I’m not wearing what I wore yesterday.” Quinn held out her hands for Abby to take, which she did.

They changed, and as excited as Abby was to tell Quinn what she’d uncovered during the night, she also understood that Quinn was trying to make this a normal morning for them, given their not-so-normal relationship, so she was quiet in the car as Quinn sang along to some pop song and held her hand. She laughed a little at Quinn’s antics, and when they pulled into the diner’s parking lot, she got out of the car, ready to spit out the whole story.

They were sat at the only empty booth in the place and were handed menus. Quinn didn’t look at hers, though, and just set it down on the table.

“Okay. Go. I know you can’t wait until after we order.”

“What are you talking about? I can wait. I’m just sitting over here, reading my menu.”

“Sure, you are.” Quinn laughed and pulled down on the menu blocking Abby’s face from her view. “Hi, beautiful. Care to tell me their names now?”

“Agnes and Frances.”

“Agnes and Frances? Which one was I?”

“Frances,” she said. “I was Agnes.”

“Well, all right, Agnes,” Quinn teased. “What did you discover?”

“They would’ve been born in the late 1400s. They met in 1507, just before Agnes was about to marry some guy her father picked for her.”

“I assume she had to marry him?”

“No, actually. They ran,” she replied.