Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. I'm telling you, Scandal can come up with the equivalent of crack for my Muses and my predilection for' shipping ALL the ships' in my various fandoms. First Olitz (and I ain't giving up on those two, Jake and Mellie and god knows who else notwithstanding…they're like opposite sides of magnets. They attract and they stick together like glue. Have faith...) and now Quinn and Huck (Huckleberry Quinn, is it?) got me by the jugular part of my Feels. Well played, Ms. Rhimes. Well played…

Confession: I have a big thing for Men of Mysteries in RL and in fiction, those men with an aura of darkness tempered with softness and Huck…whoo. Don't get me wrong, I still love me some Tony Goldwyn in all his presidential foxy baritone glory but Guillermo Diaz…yes, please. Just give me a time and place, honey. I'm there…

The latest episode's subplot with Huck moved me. He's hurting severely and everyone knows it but as far as I could tell, Quinn was the only one that got right into it with him, leading to that Scene with the Rain in his domain and…yeah. I know that it may be just a help a fellow Gladiator in Suit thing and that they're working together on a major whodunit but…I saw sparks and with sparks comes inspiration for fic. Fair warning: I may have gone completely OOC with these two but as I mentioned before, I'm still new around here. Let me know so I can improve, please.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

Waterboarding is a form of torture in which water is poured over cloth covering the face and breathing passages of an immobilized captive, causing the individual to experience the sensation of drowning. Waterboarding can cause extreme pain, dry drowning, damage to lungs, brain damage from oxygen deprivation, other physical injuries including broken bones due to struggling against restraints, lasting psychological damage, and death.[1] Adverse physical consequences can manifest themselves months after the event, while psychological effects can last for years.[2] The term water board torture appears in press reports as early as 1976.[3] The captive's face is usually covered with cloth or some other thin material, and the subject is immobilized on his/her back. Interrogators pour water onto the face over the breathing passages, causing an almost immediate gag reflex and creating the sensation for the captive that he is drowning…


"…speaking of flammable, did you tell your partner in crime to take a shower yet?"

"I think there might be something wrong with him."

"He's Huck. There's something very wrong with him. Doesn't give him a pass on hygiene…"

"…I used to live in a box outside the Metro and before that I dismembered people for a living. Right now I smell. When the rain stops I won't smell. I'm fine…"


The hotel suite bathroom was full of humidity, the steam covering the mirror and the frosted glass of the shower alcove. Quinn Perkins stood in the doorway, facing him head on. Although his face was in its 'patented and trademark' Huck blankness, his eyes screamed at her. Pain, anger at her, pain, fear, pain, anger at himself, pain, anger at the fucking bastards who did what they did to him, pain, pain, anger and hurt at Becky, pain, deep pain…pleading before the cycle started all over again.

"I'm here. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." she assured him in a soft but firm voice.

"I told you that I'm fine." he replied flatly, the sound of the rain outside drowning out the CNN reports on the television.

"Huck, our livelihood is 89% bullshit. I can tell when someone is full of it and you totally are when you say you're fine. You are not fine. No amount of CIA training and past dark deeds can make you fine after being tortured by members of the government that you served and lost everything you had for something you didn't even do. A woman that you cared very deeply for did it and let you take the fucking fall for it, knowing what would happen. Don't you tell me that you're fine because you are not fine. You. Are. Not. Fine. And I'm not going to stand around and let you be not fine without at least attempting to help you."

"Why?"

"I care about you. I care about every member of our Land of Misfit Toys Fixing gang and if one of you hurts, I hurt and I don't like it, especially since now more than half of us are. It sucks. Royally. Plus, you're starting to singe my nose hairs again and I kinda like 'em intact, you know? Look, I'm getting in the shower. You are more than welcome to join me because like I said, I'm not going to hurt you…and you stink. Horribly."

And off came her fluffy white towel. She had just dropped her fluffy white towel in front of Huck. Quiet, brooding, Wi-Fi and mysteries running through his veins, deadly as 3 motherfuckers Huck. Her fellow Gladiator Huck. Her friend Huck. His eyes widened about an inch (his equivalent of a dropped jaw) but she turned on her heel and proceeded to the alcove, entering it calmly. Immediately, she dropped two aromatherapy tablets to the floor, the scents of lavender and eucalyptus filling the space. She took down her long honey colored hair and moved her neck in a circular way, trying and failing to get all the kinks out.

A squeak escaped her as a large warm hand went to her right shoulder, the fingers slowly but firmly attacking the knot there. Looking down, she could see his bare feet and the small streams of dirt going down the drain. Turning her head, she could see glimpses of the rest of him, strong, tanned, and hirsute, making heat start to coil in her lower abdomen. She let out a small grunt of release as the persistent knot yielded and shivered as warm lips went to her ear.

"Thank you, Quinn."

"I'm here for you, Huck."

Turning around, she kept herself between him and the showerhead. His head was bowed and his eyes were shut, showing long dark lashes and tears sliding silently from the corners. Quinn picked up a loofah out of the provided basket and a dark green bottle. Opening it, she scented pine and cinnamon. After prepping it, she stepped forward and tentatively ran it down right arm. He twitched but didn't protest or pull away, a silent prompt for her to continue on.

She took to her task well, going over every centimeter of him gently but thoroughly. He was still crying silently, the droplets hitting her steadily. She relished them, not because he was in pain but because he was letting go, he actually trusted her enough to let go just for a little while. Rising up from his feet, she cupped his chin and he opened his eyes. Raw pain, pleading, trust, appreciation, desire, trust…it was starting to make her feel dizzy.

"I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you." she whispered as she walked them backwards, towards the showerhead. Rain, showers, standing water…waterboarding was insidious in its power. Even after the person tormented got away, they had mental wounds that took years to heal, if they ever did.

The fact that Americans had done it to him, that they had turned on one of its veterans, one of its citizens so easily made her sick. Okay, the POTUS had been shot in front of everyone and Jesus and yes, the Patriot Act was there but shit, it was Huck. He was certainly a deep shade of gray, if not outright black but he would never, not even for Olivia and he would walk through Mordor for her…

"Quinn…"

"Almost done…almost done…just hang on…"

One of his arms fit around her whole waist easily and she eased them back, cutting off the water. His breathing was audible and had a jagged edge but he was able to get out on his own, covering up his nakedness with one of the robes. She took the other one and belted it tightly, feeling his gaze on her as she returned to the main area.

"If you're hungry, I can call room service and there are some takeout menus in the…"

Her left wrist was clasped and she let him turn her around. Huck's right hand went to the back of her head and Quinn placed her palm against where his heart was, feeling it beat hard. Rising up on the tips of her toes, she tentatively brushed a kiss across his lips. His right arm went fully around her waist and held her to him, deepening the kiss aggressively. She nipped at his lower lip and he squeezed her, guiding them backwards. She landed in the large chair and he was above her, kissing her, devouring her, flustering her…

"Jesus, Huck…" she moaned as he broke the kiss for air.

"I'm sorry."

"No. No, don't be. That was…you don't need to apologize for that. Just…give me a minute and go over there on the couch. What happened to your clothes?"

"I threw them out. They were…ripe." he replied with a slightly sardonic smile playing at his lips as he obeyed her.

"Right. This wasn't my intention when I asked you to come here."

"I know."

"And when we were in the shower, you…"

"You were helping me. Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Good point. As much as it kills me to say this, I think we should slow down a little. Not stop completely because damn…"

"Damn is an understatement."

"…but because we need to both be focused so we can help David and we work together and if it doesn't work out, it might get weird and if it does work out, it might get weird and…"

"You're rambling, Quinn. I understand completely. We need our heads in the game and I need to put mine back on straight before we can explore whatever it is between us. I get it."

"That doesn't mean that I don't want you kissing me anymore."

"Okay."

"And when it rains or when it's just bad in general, you come and find me, even if it's just through a text message."

"I can do that."

"And you need to bathe regularly again. There's more than one way to skin a cat and there's more than one way to get clean."

"Anything else, your highness?"

"I'm here for you. I won't hurt you."

"I know…thank you, Quinn."

"You are more than welcome."