Reagan Quinby adjusted his sleeves and brushed off his shoulders one more time, before doing a last once-over on his impeccably tailored charcoal-grey suit. The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly at his reflection, and he made sure his short brown hair was sticking up just so before turning away from the mirror and to the kitchen table with his waiting satchel, cell phone, and keys.

After he gathered them and exited his house, he went to his moderately expensive car and began driving to his girlfriends apartment, where he would pick her up, then drop her off at her workplace, then go to his own.

He rubbed his half-beard (or what most would call stubble) thoughtfully with a frown that had the equal amount of thoughtfulness that his rubbing had, hoping that said girlfriend wouldn't get on his case too much for wearing the suit. She didn't like him wearing suits, she said it looked too "high end for the job he had", even when he didn't wear a tie with it.

He hoped his white button-down under the suit coat with his dress pants wouldn't be too bad... He had included some "nasty old running shoes" (as so eloquently put by his girlfriend) hoping that he wouldn't look too "high end" this time.

Of course, she would most likely scold him for wearing ratty old shoes with his nice clothes... There was no pleasing that woman.

Though, he knew exactly how to fix it. No use complaining about something he can, but continues to refuse, to fix, right?

He pulled up to the very nice, luxury condo where the thin redhead stood, on her cell phone, waiting for her ride.

Reagan took time to look over her slightly-filled, nicely shaped figure and carefully styled flaming red hair, and frankly gorgeous face as he waited for her to get off her phone and get in.

She may have been a pain but she was beautiful without a doubt.

When he first met her, he thought she was one of those quiet, shy, hard-to-know types of girls. And she was, until he made her his girlfriend. Then she suddenly had the stereotypical personality of the bleach-blonde cheerleader everyone hates in high school.

But, she wasn't all bad. She was nicer than most, and even though she tended to be rather controlling, she was loyal and committed to him, and him alone. He did like that.

"Reagan?"

His thoughts were interrupted by Danica Conner's sultry, smooth voice, and he snapped out of his slight daze and smiled over at her as she frowned at him from the passengers seat.

"Hey, sorry. Good morning, sweetheart." Reagan smiled more and leaned over to kiss her softly and quickly before pulling out.

"Good morning... What did I tell you about the shoes? If you HAVE to wear a suit, wear nice shoes. Not those nasty old running shoes." Danica scolded, shaking her head slightly but kissing his cheek all the same.

"Sorry, Dani, sorry, I was in a hurry." He sighed, glancing over at her again before looking back at the road, his right hand taking her left one.

"Just try and remember, alright? I don't want my boyfriend looking a mess." She purred, smiling over at him.

Ah, there it was. He loved that smile. He didn't see it as often as he would have liked.

"I will." He gave her a boyish smile and nodded obediently

"Thank you, Rayray." She squeezed his hand before looking back to her phone.

There it was. He grimaced when she wasn't looking. He HATED that nickname. All his previous girlfriends called him that. Every single one. It got old fast.

But, he said nothing as he stopped outside her gourmet bakery.

"I'll see you at lunch, baby. Oh, and for the next couple of weeks I'm going to need to get in a bit early, just an hour or so. Could you still pick me up? Thank you, love you, have a good day." Danica waved as she got out, then ran into her beautiful shop.

Reagan returned a half-baked wave and sped off towards the airport, not very happy about having an hour less to himself in the mornings. Oh well. He had to pick up his sister, as she was visiting for a couple weeks for his birthday. The same two weeks he would be getting up early.

This would be a long two weeks.