Warning this story contains Season 2 spoilers and SWEARING similar to the programme.
This is my first ever fanfiction. REVIEWS APPRECIATED!
Following on from the end of Homeland, S2 E10 (Broken Hearts), when Carrie Mathison has escaped from Abu Nazir, but then returns to the old mill, alone and enters a dark room.
…...
LOVE'S TERROR CELL
CHAPTER 1
"Thanks." Carrie Mathison accepted weakly, grateful, as Peter Quinn held open the door to her home. She was drained mentally, emotionally and physically by the earlier events of the day.
"You need a bath. I'll fix you some food." Quinn marched in behind her and shut the door quickly and efficiently behind him.
"Look, there's no need..." She gestured towards the door, preferring to be alone to think, to process what she had just been through. To pin it all up on her internal cork board and rearrange it until it made sense.
"Carrie!" He pursed his lips in frustration and raised his palms. Quinn wondered where to put them so not to hurt her. He laid them on her shoulders, squeezing gently. She frowned and looked away.
"Carrie..." He smiled, tutting softly. "You have disobeyed every order I've ever given you. Probably every order anyone has ever given you and where has it got you?" He raised a hand and teasingly wagged his finger near her nose.
She gave a half-smile and shrugged off his other hand that was lingering on her shoulder. "It got us Abu Nazir!"
...
Quinn huffed and put both hands on his hips. She was right of course. "Goddamnit Carrie. Just for tonight trust me. Let me help you. You could have been killed today..." His jaw tightened at the cloudy memory of his quick and joyless capture of Abu Nazir, on the run outside the Mill. It was a meaningless blur. No relief. No sense of achievement. Finding Carrie had been his only concern.
He more easily recollected his frantic search alone for Carrie, whilst everyone else whooped over the capture of Nazir. His desperate fear as his shouts of her name went unanswered. Finally he had found her alone, dazed in a dark room with blood on her wrists. She was slightly concussed, probably after walking into the steel beam that she was lying underneath. Carrie was clearly alive though and not seriously injured, apart from her pride. He had been overwhelmed by relief as he held her tightly, before carrying her down the stairs to take her to the hospital.
"I could get killed any day. Just doing my job." Carrie grimaced as she slipped her arms out of her jacket. Her wrists were still raw from the cable ties that Abu Nazir had used to hold her hostage.
"There'll be plenty of time for celebrating your heroic escape tomorrow, but tonight you need to rest. Have you taken your psychotic medication?" Quinn demanded.
"Anti-psychotic." Carrie withered icily, before sighing and yielding. "I'll get it. It's in my bathroom."
...
Peter Quinn tapped his fingers nervously on the fridge as he heard the water running in the bathroom.
Should I ever tell her? He exhaled slowly at the thought. He knew that she had been through enough today, but tomorrow it would all be over and then he'd never have another chance. Now Abu Nazir was captured, he'd just have to complete his mission and eliminate Nicholas Brody. Then he'd disappear as mysteriously, silently and completely as he had appeared. Another mission already lined up. Another terrorist to assassinate.
Falling in love had never been part of the plan.
...
"Something smells good!" Carrie smiled weakly as she entered the kitchen. Her hair was wet and uncombed. Her silk dressing gown was clinging to her. Quinn gazed sideways enjoying the view, taking in every detail that was important to him as a man.
He reluctantly distracted himself and grinned as he unloaded the trays from the brown paper bag. "Indian food at last!" he laughed, "I found the takeaway menu in your bin. It won hands down over that out of date yoghurt in your fridge!"
Quinn had not been surprised to find an almost empty fridge. Her self neglect was epitomised in her kitchen. Her relentless energy had been single-mindedly channelled into her work. Her obsessive quest to catch Nazir. Only when reminded by others did she allow time for the inconvenience of stopping to eat, now and again
"I remember when you said you really liked Indian food and I made you have Greek instead!" Carrie smiled, remembering the first time she had shared a takeaway with Peter Quinn.
She had enjoyed his company that evening, as they had worked alone together on surveillance. He was cute. She had secretly thought it then and still now. Her favourite image of him flitted through her mind, as it did daily. Quinn dropping his gown, as he announced he was discharging himself from hospital, after the Gettysburg ambush. She had pretended to be offended, but had only felt embarrassed. It was the effect that seeing his body quickly had on hers that had made her blush. She had thought he was seriously hot.
"Like you've never seen a dick before," he'd derided as he flashed her, amused at her seemingly prudish reaction.
Quinn smiled too with his own secret memories. He remembered how he had endured the Greek food he so despised, just to make her happy.
"Yeah," he finally said grinning, relaxed, momentarily off guard, "I really love Indian food. I got the taste for it when I did a mission in..." He stopped abruptly. He had never told anyone. He couldn't tell her. Not yet.
"Where Peter?" she raised her chin, her happy lustful memory vaporising and her annoyance at his eternal secrecy rising swiftly. "Where did you do a mission? Who the fuck are you really?"
He looked directly at her, smirking. "Well, I'm sure Saul will have reported back to you by now?"
"Saul? What the fuck are you talking about? In fact where has Saul been all day?" Carrie's anxiety rose as she realised her mentor was missing.
"Saul is in a safe place. I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow." Quinn looked away, imagining Carrie's pain when she found out the truth. He wondered about the status of Saul's surprise polygraph and interrogation that Estes had arranged for him earlier.
"So what does Saul know about you, that I don't?" Carrie edged close to him. This was important.
Quinn laughed. "I'm not a CIA Analyst."
"Well I know that!" She huffed dismissively.
"I'm Black Ops. I'm a Soldier." He stated it coolly, not looking at her.
"Okay..." Carrie bit the inside of her cheeks. She wondered what his mission had been. Or perhaps was to be?
"Listen Carrie." Quinn sighed. "None of this matters right now. Have some food first."
...
They ate in silence. Quinn savoured everything fervently. Carrie picked at a piece of chicken tikka with her fork before pushing her plate away.
She hadn't reported her knowledge of Nazir's and Brody's roles in the Vice President's death yet. Brody was being regaled on the news as the hero who had attempted to resuscitate him. From the bulletins that Carrie had seen, it was clearly a mixture of grief and joy in the newsrooms of America tonight. The sad day that the Vice President had a fatal heart attack. Somehow made even more tragic by being on the same day that The Renowned Terrorist, Abu Nazir was finally in custody. It seemed that the American public were confused whether they were supposed to be mourning or celebrating.
The terrorists probably have the same dilemma, thought Carrie. Mourn Nazir's capture, or celebrate the death of the Vice President? She wondered where Brody was tonight.
"Carrie... You. Need. To. Eat." Peter Quinn spoke slowly and deliberately, like talking to a toddler.
"Stop telling me what to do!" she retorted, annoyed he was invading the turmoil in her mind. Stopping her from having the personal space she needed to sort it out and pin it all up in the right places.
"Carrie! I warned you, not tonight. You will obey my orders tonight!" Quinn stared at Carrie. His blue eyes were glinting and his cheekbones seemed more defined than ever, as he inhaled sharply and pursed his lips.
"Really? Obey you? Who do you think you are anyway? Christian fifty fucking shades of Grey?" Carrie pouted and raised an eyebrow suggestive and sarcastic in equal measure. She stood with her hands on her hips as the chair clattered to the floor behind her.
"Oh believe me, Carrie, don't even risk disobeying me tonight!" Quinn pretended to threaten her again. He was amused now and enjoying the possible hint of flirtation in her blue eyes.
He pushed her plate back across the table and forked a piece of chicken tikka for her, pretending he was furious.
"Oh, fuck off, Peter!" Carrie yelled angrily, mistaking his intention to tease her, for genuine intimidation. She wondered if the fork in the chicken tikka might be through her hand next. She shoved the plate back to him and stomped through to the lounge, turning up the volume on the stereo as she passed it. It was jazz. Thelonius Monk, no less, Straight, no chaser.
"Good choice of music, Peter." Carrie whispered to herself, surprised, curling up on the safety on her sofa.
...
After he had finished eating his curry, Quinn militarily cleared the table and washed the plates. Outwardly, he appeared as serious and efficient as usual. Inwardly his heart and mind was racing.
He couldn't handle it any more. The jazz was pushing him over the edge of an emotional cliff. How could she listen to this? What sort of mind could enjoy this erratic excuse for music? He marched over to the sofa and turned off the stereo as he passed it.
"I'm really sorry Carrie." He knelt beside her, touching her lightly on the arm with his index finger. "I just wanted to make sure you're OK. You know? After we got Nazir today?"
"I'm fine Quinn!" She spat, mostly annoyed that her favourite jazz had been silenced so abruptly. "You know I'm a big girl and I can look after myself! Even feed myself! I don't need some bullshit soldier hero to make me feel OK..."
Quinn stood up angrily and started pacing the lounge. He punched the wall twice, before turning towards her. He suspected the real source of her anger was because, in the end, she had needed his help to catch Nazir. Carrie clumsily walking into a steel beam and knocking herself out, had meant she hadn't participated at all. Apart from being Nazir's hostage earlier, before escaping somehow. Only Carrie would have been foolish enough to go back into the dark, abandoned Mill alone. She had wanted to do it all alone. To catch Nazir and personally avenge for the deaths of those she felt responsible for. It had been her obsession for too many years.
"Don't you get lonely, sometimes?" Quinn asked, more softly than Carrie had expected, after his pacing and punching. "I know I do..."
"I get company when I want it!" Carrie shrugged whilst unconsciously rubbing her bare ring finger. The fake gold band that she occasionally wore always did the trick of weeding out the guys after commitment.
"Brody?" Quinn bit his lip as he said the B word.
"Don't mention his name. That man. That monster is dead to me." Carrie forced her eyes and voice to be devoid of emotion.
Quinn inhaled sharply. He will be tomorrow, quite literally. He silently reminded himself of the final loose end he needed to tie up.
"So was it real with Brody? While it lasted?" Quinn quizzed Carrie, hating himself for being tantalised.
Carrie shook her head. "I told you before it wasn't real. Not this time. I was doing my job. Just like you all asked me too! I always was his Achilles heel..."
"But you enjoyed doing your job? At the motel?" Quinn hoped his forced smirk disguised his jealousy, that was always triggered by that memory.
Carrie mocked back. "You don't get it do you? I feel nothing for that monster, not any more! That terrorist! It was a job. I faked everything!" She saw Quinn raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Peter, everything, even my mind-blowing, earth shattering orgasm that you and your perverts so enjoyed listening too!"
Quinn jerked inwardly, the jealousy taking over. The memory of him and Saul listening awkwardly to Brody fuck Carrie. Saul had been horrified like a father. Quinn had felt violently jealous. Those sounds had since haunted him. Aroused him. Angered him. "I'm glad you faked it, but you sounded pretty realistic?"
"Years of practice." Carrie retorted dismissively. "Why are you glad, anyway Peter? Why would any of this matter to you in the slightest?"
"Because." He swallowed, decision made he'd tell her. Now or never.
"Because what?" She was getting more annoyed with him. She thought he was clearly judging her. Thought she'd gone too far when he'd asked her to empower Brody to keep him on track.
"Because... you have no idea how much I admire you, Carrie!" Quinn looked at her tentatively.
"You. Admire. Me!" She snorted with disbelief.
"Every hunch you've ever had has proved right. I've always trusted you, Carrie! One of your hunches saved my life in Gettysburg..." Quinn's blue eyes searched her face trying to read her feelings.
Her face revealed nothing.
He blurted "And I love you, Carrie! Against all my better judgement, I love you more deeply than you could ever imagine!"
...
Carrie's face reacted when she saw this declaration confirmed in his eyes. She stared back at him with her mouth opening and closing, like a fish out of water.
She could tell he wasn't joking. Or was he? Quinn didn't do jokes. But did Quinn do love either? Clearly yes, but she'd had no idea. Maybe he did do jokes after all? That was easier to believe. Perhaps this was a joke and she was misreading the truth in his eyes. Although, she knew she rarely made mistakes. She trusted her instincts, especially after her suspicions about Brody had been verified.
Carrie laughed at him. "You love me! And against your better judgement nonetheless! Why are you telling me this? What the fuck do you mean?"
Quinn looked down, embarrassed. He was afraid. There was no going back now.
"Because I might not get another chance, Carrie. And I'm fed up of lying to you!" His blue eyes again told her it was the truth.
Carrie gawped, lost for words and unsure what to say to contain the situation. Suddenly there was no space for words anyway. With his warm fingers, he quickly held her face gently. His mouth pressed down hard against hers. She felt that she had lost control of her own mouth, as it eagerly responded to his kiss.
She pulled back sharply, momentarily dizzy, as she recovered her senses that were at risk of spiralling out of her control. She was breathing rapidly and her body was desperate to join in with the action, that her mouth was enjoying. "Against your better judgement! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Quinn chuckled. "You're crazy, Carrie. You make me crazy too. I'm in love with the craziest woman I've ever met!"
"Well, you're not exactly Mr Stability are you?" She spat the words at Quinn. She now hated that particular word after Brody had used crazy as a term of endearment for her.
You know how everyone thinks you're crazy. You're crazier than that... That particular phrase had tipped Carrie over the edge last time. Made her risk her heart with Brody again.
Carrie snarled. "You know what Quinn. I thought you were pretty crazy stabbing Brody in the hand that time. You lost it!"
"I was your bad cop, Carrie..." Quinn whispered, pulling her gently towards him again. "I did it for you! Don't you see what a great team we make?"
"Listen to yourself! People on my team? They don't call me crazy!" Carrie fumed, pushing him away.
"Everyone calls you crazy, Carrie. Even your family. And especially those who truly love you!" Quinn teased her, he pulled her in and tried to kiss her again.
For a few minutes, Carrie allowed it and basked in the whirling light-headedness of his kisses. Quinn's touch was growing insistent and she wanted him badly too. Then against every fibre in her body she fought against it. She had to resist and he had to fucking desist. Quinn wanted more than sex and she couldn't give it to him.
It was hard and awkward as she came up for air. She pushed him away. "Quinn, you're cute! And I'll give you this, a good kisser, probably a great fuck... and in other circumstances...but... but... Love, do you know what that word means?" She stared at him. "I don't want to know!"
Carrie continued, "I can't figure you out, Quinn. You're Mr Ice-Cold-Serious one minute. Mr Crazy-Hand-Stabbing-Assshole the next! Now you're acting like Mr goddamnfucking Darcy out of Pride and Prejudice!"
Quinn pleaded, desperate to kiss her again. "Carrie. Take a look at your own actions! Look in the mirror sometime. Maybe I'm your mirror?"
"I don't do love, Quinn. One night stands, maybe, but not Love." Carrie was shaking now, lust subsiding, just agitated and confused.
Brody was the only man she had ever come close to loving. Twice. She knew that had ended badly for her to put it mildly. Twice. Carrie shuddered, alternately remembering being in the cabin with him, then the memory of the ECT.
Cabin. ECT. Cabin. ECT. Love equals loss of everything in my life. Loss of my mind. Loss of my job. I love my job.
Then thoughts of Roya Hammad.
Roya Roya Roya
Carrie now knew that Brody had only rekindled the relationship with her, because Roya Hammad had told him too.
She began to feel like her mind was falling apart. She had to put an end to this quickly.
Carrie silently vowed there and then. Never again will I risk even a hint of love and the complete destruction it always brings me.
Quinn was begging her now. "Try love. Properly for once Carrie, risk it. With me. Trust me! We could just go away together. Tonight. Fuck finishing the mission. Fuck Estes. Fuck Dar Adal. We're not needed any more. We could just go and live in a small town. Have a nice life. Get married. Have kids! Eat Indian food or Greek if you prefer. Olives... I'll eat whatever shit you like!"
He paused, like the words were hard to form, "I just cannot bear to live without you for another second." Tears welled in his blue eyes, as his heart and soul spilled out.
Quinn stood there shaking. He looked empty now. The truth of a man desperately in love, exposed, with nothing to lose any more.
Carrie was horrified. Disgusted. Quinn now looked and sounded like putrid vomit to her. The thought of him, or anyone, truly loving her, only made her feel more sick. She retched inwardly.
Carrie suddenly zealously celebrated the knowledge that she would be alone her whole life, without love. It was safer that way, she decided. For everyone.
She decided that Love made her sick, physically and mentally and Love would destroy her, if she ever toyed with it again. Love was the greatest enemy to be fought now!
Carrie rubbed her hands with delight. Love would be greater adversary than even Nazir had been! Love would never get the chance to hold her hostage though. She would always outsmart it. She would annihilate it, before it could ever hunt her down.
...
Carrie suddenly recalled that as a girl she had dreamt of marrying men like James Bond, like Peter Quinn in fact. Even today, she thought Quinn was the most ideal man she had ever met. Hot, handsome, unpredictable, mysterious, hard as nails.
Carrie rejoiced in her newly acquired strength. She now knew that nothing would ever tempt her into Love's Terror Cell. She realised that Quinn might always be appealing, but Love certainly wasn't.
She was thankful that she still had her wits about her. Relieved that she wasn't as crazy as everyone thought after all.
Carrie was calm as she spoke, slowly and at peace with herself. Victorious. She may not have been the one to capture Nazir today, but a much more dangerous enemy, Love, had just been curtailed by her for good. She knew that it had been a close call.
Carrie laughed at him. "You call me crazy, Quinn, but you're fucking deranged. You've lost your mind and you should leave!"
When he didn't move, she screamed. "Get out. Right now! I never want to see you again!"
...
Carrie had been surprised that Peter Quinn had departed as coolly as he did. She knew someone would probably pay though, as she recalled the knife lodged in Brody's hand. She nodded to herself. Quinn always did have a temper.
...
Three hours later a strangely bruised Saul woke her and turned on the News Channel for the latest reports on Brody's assassination. Carrie sighed. She finally knew the real purpose of Peter Quinn's mission.
The bulletins were reporting that Congressman Brody had been shot twice, likely by a sniper, probably a loyal terrorist avenging the capture of Abu Nazir. She shook her head. The public would never know the truth about Brody, an all American hero to the end.
Had Quinn had completed it as a direct order from Estes, to cover up Brody's knowledge of the drone strikes, or as a crime of passion? Carrie decided she'd never know.
Saul was just relieved that his Interrogators had been called away and were distracted by the breaking news broadcasts of Brody's shooting half an hour earlier.
Peter Quinn had arrived, almost unrecognisable in his hat and an unexpected visitor to Saul's interrogation cell. Quinn had left the door open, so it gave Saul a chance to walk away unnoticed.
Quinn's words had been "Look after Carrie and don't trust Estes."
Saul had come straight to Carrie of course.
...
Thanks so much for reading this chapter. More will follow! Chapter 1 was inspired by the moment when Mr Darcy tells Elizabeth Bennett how he feels... "In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed - you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."