It was Monday night, the night of the USA/Portugal match in the 2014 World Cup. Knowing that Quinn was a huge fan of US soccer, Carrie had invited him over to watch the game with her, she herself a long-time fan of international football.

"When did you start watching soccer?" he asks her.

"You mean football? Since forever ago. You're looking at Riverdale High School's all time leader in assists."

Quinn almost spits out his beer from the shock.

"Oh really? Huh, didn't take you for an athlete."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks in an irritated tone.

He laughs, shaking his head.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I know you're tough as nails, but I've seen you run..."

She laughs, "Yeah, well, it was a long time ago...but I was fierce."

"Oh I have not doubt about that..." he teases, looking at her. A smile spreads across his face.

Carrie is smiling back at him and she holds his stare. She feels the heat start to spread across her cheeks. Damn it, she thinks.

Quinn finally lowers his eyes, feeling somewhat embarrassed and stunned at the ache forming in his chest, so quickly turns his head to look back at the TV.

The score is 2-1, USA with 15 minutes remaining. At the next commercial break, Quinn rises from the couch.

"You want another beer?" he turns and asks.

"Sure."

Upon returning, Quinn hands Carrie her drink.

"So why the fascination with Portugal? I mean, where is the patriotism? Or is that strictly a work-related thing for you?"

"Hey, I've been a fan for quite sometime. I mean soccer is a joke in the US...who was I supposed to cheer for all this time?"

"So it's not just about Ronaldo?" Quinn teases again.

"Well, he's just icing on the cake!" she smiles.

"Of course..."

"Hey, I know an attractive man when I see one," she scolds him.

"Do you now? Hm." Quinn smirks then turns back to the TV. She considers his suggestion.

"Yes, I do."

There is an awkward silence between them now. Where do I take this, Carrie wonders as she watches him.

"Just because we work side by side everyday doesn't mean I don't see what's in front of me, Quinn. I'm not blind."

Okay...maybe she shouldn't have had that last beer. She may have just cross the line with him.

Quinn turns away from the TV and gazes at her, this time a little more intently. Did she really just say that? Maybe she did see him as more than just her work partner and friend.

Carrie, sensing the rising intensity between them, turns back to the TV.

"I can't stand this...what is wrong with them?! They need to stop fucking around with the ball..." she yells.

With five minutes remaining, Quinn starts to gloat.

"We're taking this one...I can feel it!"

"Oh please...they still have time to put one in. This is far from over..." she argues.

With just two minutes remaining, Quinn rises from the couch and in triumph, claps his hands together.

"And that's how it's done in America, folks!"

He walks away from the TV and into the kitchen with an armful of empty beer bottles. He starts to load Carrie's dishwasher and put away the chips, but moments later he hears a scream and rushes back to see what the commotion is. He sees Carrie standing, her arms raised in the air and staring at the TV. He looks to see what's happened and sees the instant replay of Cristiano Ronaldo delivering the perfect pass to Silvestre Varela for the goal, giving Portugal 2, to tie the game in the final seconds.

And without thought she turns to Quinn, face lit up, embraces his face and kisses him, then lets out a loud 'whoop' again. Feeling euphoric, Carrie turns again, smiling broadly and only then does she realize what she's done. Her smile starts to fade with the realization that she might have just made a huge fucking mistake.

"Quinn...I..." she says apologetically.

But before she can say another word, he pulls her back to him and kisses her. At first she's stunned, but her surprise quickly turns to passion and she wraps her arms around him to bring him closer. Sensing her eagerness, Quinn backs Carrie up against the wall, causing her to knock her head.

"Fuck..." she mutters, but the pain doesn't distract her.

Who knows if it was the beer or the excitement from the game, but whatever it was it had them both throwing all caution to the wind and clawing at it each other. Carrie tries to unbutton Quinn's shirt but struggles with it, so after pulling Carrie's blouse over her head, he then does the same with his own, leaving them both half naked. She rakes her hands down his chest, her fingertips rippling over his muscles and down towards his navel. Jesus, she thinks to herself, his body was unbelievable.

Quinn grasps Carrie's head in his hands and brings his mouth back down on hers, kissing her hard and deep, then lowers his lips to her neck, causing her to throw her head back again. A groan escapes her lips, which only makes Quinn hotter and wanting more. Using his tongue he begins tracing her clavicle then lowers his head further to her breast. Shit, he thinks. She tasted sweeter than he had imagined.

His touch was driving her mad. Carrie pushes her pelvis up against his, yearning for more. She desperately tries to unclasp Quinn's pants so she can touch him but can't seem to undo the button. She could feel how hard he was already.

"Qu..Quinn..." she pants.

He pulls away for a second to take off his pants, giving Carrie enough time to do the same. Within seconds he's lifted her right leg and wrapped it around his waist, but pauses just a moment to look at her, as if to ask for permission to continue on. Carrie looks up at him and pulls his head closer to her.

"I want you inside me," she whispers to him.

Quinn suddenly panics...he can't do this. What the fuck is he thinking?

"Carrie..wait..."

"Quinn please..." she pants, "I've wanted to fuck you since the day I met you...please..." she begs.

Her desperation was turning him on even more. He liked to hear Carrie Mathison beg.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, Carrie," he says, his tone now slightly darker.

"Take me, Quinn," she continues to beg.

Quinn lowers a hand and rests it between Carrie's legs and brings his mouth to her ear.

"Mmm..." he moans, "I'm not sure you're ready for me to fuck you."

This causes Carrie to whimper and press her pelvis against his hand.

"Please..." she begs.

Quinn moves his mouth from her ear, down her neck, then back to her mouth, and lightly bites at her lower lip before slowly turning her around to face the wall. He then pulls her hips towards him and slowly presses the tip of his cock against her backside, then traces his way lower, until he feels a wetness. Quinn groans. She was so ready.

He gently pushes into her, causing them both to moan, then slowly begins to slide in and out of her. Carrie braces her hands up against the wall and begins to push herself back up against Quinn with his every thrust, bringing him deeper each time. Quinn holds her hip with one hand while the other continues to explore her body, enjoying the smoothness of her back, caressing the softness of her thighs and ass, and finally, back to her hip. He could feel her tightening around him and was doing everything in his power to hold back. Within moments Carrie starts panting harder, and was soon calling out his name.

"Ah fuck...Quinn...yes...yes..."

It was enough to push him over the edge. Quinn grabs hold of her hips and suddenly spills into her, groaning as he orgasms.

He soon collapses down across her back, bracing himself against the wall so as not to put all his weight on her. As he catches his breath and tries to regain his senses, he wraps one hand around Carrie's waist and slowly pulls her closer and up against his chest, causing him to start to slip out from her. Carrie raises an arm to cradle Quinn's head, her eyes still closed and corners of her mouth turned upward in a smile. They rest like this together for several moments.

"Had I known soccer was such a turn on for you, I would have taken you to a game much sooner," Quinn jests.

"Had I known you were such a great fuck, I might have told you sooner." she retorts.

Quinn slowly turns Carrie around to face him. He looks at her squarely in the eyes, searching for some sincerity, and seeing it he then gently kisses her. She is immediately thankful and relieved by his action. Maybe this was going to be okay.

"Now come upstairs and let me properly make love to you..." he whispers to her.