It took a forgotten umbrella to get Quinn to talk about the kiss.
Correction: It took a forgotten umbrella to get Quinn to talk to him at all. It had been the longest week of his life while Quinn ignored him aside from work related matters. Even then, she only talked to him if she had to and kept the conversation as short as possible. Lunch, she spent alone in her office with the door closed while Heather gladly took the opportunity all week long to bug him about Quinn's behavior as his new lunch partner.
Plenty of women had turned him down before but that didn't lessen the pain of this clear rejection. The worst part about this one was that he hadn't even meant to do it. As the week went on though, he began to realize that he wanted to date Quinn which made things even worse. And he had probably ruined their friendship by being so forward. A simple date invitation would have been the better plan, but his brain had a different, and much worse, plan. But there was plenty of time to drink scotch while adding last Friday to his list of regrets. He needed a way to salvage his friendship with Quinn so he wouldn't have to add that to the list.
Which brought him back to a forgotten umbrella. And a pouring rainstorm with drops so heavy that it made sound like a rainforest instead of a city street. And him standing under the awning of the office building checking his phone to see if and when the rain would stop. Or if he would have to make a mad, two-block dash to the Metro station. Which was then he got a text from Quinn.
Look up
He did and saw a red Mini Cooper idling next to the curb with its hazard lights flashing. His phone chimed again and he looked back down.
Hurry up and get in
Putting away his phone and then covering his head with his bag, he sprinted towards the car and dove in when Quinn flung the door open for him.
"Hey," he said, a little out of breath.
She pulled away from the curb before she said, "Hey."
"I didn't know you owned a car."
"I don't. This is one of those rentals. Zipcar or something. I picked it up since I saw it was gonna be raining all day."
"Oh."
"I mean, it's not like I need a car since all I do is hang out with—"
She cut herself off and concentrated on driving which, on one hand, Mike could appreciate since her weaving through traffic in the pouring rain took away his breath even more than his recent dash. On the other, he knew exactly why she stopped talking and it made the car ride utterly uncomfortable. Still, this was his best chance this entire week to actually talk with her so he didn't get out immediately when they pulled up in front of his apartment.
"So…about last Friday."
It took a long second before she said, "What about last Friday?"
"Don't you think we should talk about what happened?"
"No, why should we? We're fine."
"Except that we aren't." He looked over. "We've barely talked this entire week."
Staring at the raindrops on the windshield, her face was expressionless, but the squeaking coming from the steering wheel as her hands wrung it gave her away. He guessed that she didn't notice the noise because she kept making it. That was the only sound she made for almost a minute as she stared ahead and he stared at her.
Right before he got sick of the silence in the car, she said, "I can count the number of friends I have on one hand and you're one of them." Noticing what her hands were doing, she finally stopped wringing the steering wheel and folded them on her lap. "In fact, you're probably the closest friend I've ever had. And…I don't want to screw that up. So—"
"No, I get it," he said. "I shouldn't have kissed you."
"That's not—"
It was immature of him, but he cut her off again because he didn't want to hear what Quinn had to say even though he had been so eager to have this conversation just minutes earlier. He had been rejected already. He didn't need Quinn to do it a second time.
"You can keep coming over if you want. I won't do anything stupid again, but I understand if you think it'll be too awkward. I just hope we can still be friends."
Her eyes dropped then glanced to the left, at the windshield. When they returned to his, her lips pursed then opened so she could say, "Yea, of course we can still be friends."
It was the best he could hope for, but he wasn't happy about it. From the look on Quinn's face as he got out, she didn't look too thrilled either.
XXX
Quinn didn't stop by his place that rainy weekend. When she didn't show up the next Friday, he gave up hope she would stop by that weekend, so it surprised him when he found her knocking at his door as he finished getting ready to go out on Saturday night.
"Sorry, I should have texted," she said, standing just outside his apartment.
"No, it's alright. I was just gonna grab a drink."
"Oh." She looked down for a moment. "I— I guess I'll head back home then."
Before he could say anything, she turned and started to walk down the hallway. He stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds before easily catching up and grabbing her wrist. She spun around with a look of shock on her face which caused him to let go. Her other hand covered the place he had grabbed her like it hurt even though he knew he hadn't used much strength at all.
"Sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asked as he took a step forward.
She took a step back and his face fell.
"No, you just surprised me," she said as she rubbed her wrist for a second then dropped her hands to her side.
"So, um, I don't have to go get a drink. We can go back to my place and do our usual thing."
She shook her head. "I'll come by some other time."
"Oh." A great idea pops into his head and he hopes she likes it too. "You wanna get a drink with me?"
"Aren't you going with other people?"
"No," he said with a grin, "I was gonna be a loser and drink by myself."
It seemed like she would turn him down, but she smiled and said, "Yea, I'd like that."
XXX
It took a few more weeks before things returned to normal. Or at least as normal as they could be.
Things were still a bit awkward between them, especially now that they both knew he looked at her as a romantic, albeit very remote, possibility. He found himself staring at her whenever he got the chance and she caught him quite a few times causing them both to quickly look away. Frankly, it was ridiculous how they were acting like they were back in high school. Although, he was pretty sure he never acted like this in high school and, from what he could remember, neither did Quinn.
"What is going on between you and Quinn?" Heather asked as she continued to trace the life-lines on his right hand one day while she was bugging him, again, in his cubicle.
"Nothing."
She pinched his wrist, ignored the "ow" that came from him, and said, "Don't lie to me. You two have been weird ever since that week when you didn't speak to each other."
"Nothing's going on," he said as he awkwardly used one hand to turn the page of the book he was reading. "Go back to work."
"Already finished all my work." She smacked herself on the forehead. "Wait, I'm a moron. You two got drunk, slept together, and one of you got all emotional about it." She tapped her lips with her index finger a few times. "It's you being all emotional isn't it?"
"Yea, that's it. We're starring in a real-life rom-com."
She pinched him much harder this time. "Watch the sarcasm."
"Fine. Alright. I kissed her and she basically shoved me away. That's what happened. Happy?"
"No," She said as she stroked his palm a few times. "What is wrong with that woman?"
"Nothing's wrong with her. She doesn't like me and that's that."
"You're wrong. I just don't understand why she's denying it." He flipped to the next page then hear her say, "You know, we sound like we're in a rom-com now."
"Uh huh."
"Just means you two will get together in the end."
"Uh huh." He glanced back her and grinned. "You know…that makes you the crazy friend right?"
She laughed and said, "Shut up."
XXX
Mike had just sat down to eat his dinner of day-old rice and kung pao chicken when someone started to bang on his door. He groaned as he got up because all he wanted to do after work was sit around and do nothing. And dealing with annoying neighbors was not part of nothing.
He opened the door and found Quinn standing there with tears streaming down her face. They stared at each other for a second before he said, "What happened?"
In response, she took two quick steps forward, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face into his chest.
These weren't the silent and almost motionless tears she had when things went bad with Andrew. This time her entire body shook as she gulped down lungfuls of air to fuel her sobbing. He pulled his arms free from hers and he felt her pulling on the back of his shirt as she tightened her grip on him. With nothing else to do, he walked backwards and basically dragged her inside, over to his couch.
They stood in front of it for a while. He didn't know how long they did as he ran his hands up and down her back while she cried, but eventually her body stopped being racked by sobs.
"Sit down," he said softly.
It took her a second before she let go and sat down. It was stupid, but the fact that she didn't even look behind her before letting go filled him with a sense of relief. He grabbed a glass of water before sitting down next to her, something she hadn't allowed to happen ever since the kiss.
"What happened?"
A sob escaped from her mouth before she could say, "Beth was in a car accident."
His hand found hers as he asked, "Is she okay?"
She shook her head as more tears streamed down her face. "Shelby says they airlifted her to a hospital."
"But she's gonna be okay, right?"
"I don't know." She held out her phone. "Shelby's gonna call when she finds out more."
He looked down and saw that the phone barely had any battery left so he pulled it out of her hand and plugged it in to his charger.
Quinn murmured her thanks and he nodded while holding his arms open because it was all he could do. Any problems she might have had with being close to him had vanished as she buried her face into his chest again. She did it with enough force that he lost his balance and fell over onto his back. When she made no move to get up, he figured that she didn't mind their new position so he went back to gently stroking her back.
Eventually, she lifted her head up ever so slightly and turned it so she was looking blankly at the black screen of the TV.
It made his neck hurt, staring at the top of her head and the position it was in, so he asked, "Do you wanna get up?"
She shook her head.
"Do you wanna watch something?"
She nodded.
It took a bit of stretching, but he was able to get a finger on the remote which let him drag it over to him. He settled on a Top Chef marathon because he knew she loved the show and would happily watch hours and hours of it. So that's what they did. Or that's what he did because she was fast asleep when he looked down part way through the first episode. A line of drool trickled out of her mouth, down to his shirt, and he wondered if it was a regular occurrence or if it was just an effect of the emotional night.
A whimper escaped from Quinn's mouth and she turned her head so she was facing towards the couch. His thumb paused over her cheek because he knew it was a bad idea to get any closer to her. He figured she knew it was a bad idea too since she had kept her distance, literally and figuratively, but she needed someone tonight. Even though what brought her here was terrible, he was glad that she still thought of him as someone she could trust. In the end, he thought it really couldn't hurt so he gently wiped away the drool from her cheek.
Figuring that her neck could use the rest, he carefully, and awkwardly, slid out from underneath her and rolled her over onto her back at the same time. Thankfully she stayed asleep during that strange maneuver and he went to grab a plate of his cold leftovers because he hadn't touched the food at all because not even this awful thing could change the fact he was hungry. With nowhere else to sit, he slid the coffee table away from the couch a bit so he could fold his body between the two and continue watching Top Chef.
Just as the second episode finished up a scream came from behind him and he slammed his shin into the table in front of him in his rush to turn around. When he did, he found Quinn sitting straight up breathing heavily and looking around. Seeing him there on the floor in front of her, a wave of relief washed over her face as she clutched at her chest with her hands.
"Mike!"
"Yea?" He rubbed his shin. "Ow."
"I— I thought you…"
He barely noticed her trailing off since pain was still shooting through his shin, but he did notice. He also noticed one of her hands as it tentatively reached out and touched his chest, almost as if she didn't believe he was right there in front of her.
"Thought I what?" he asked as his hand covered hers.
"Nothing." She took some deep breaths as she shook her head and took her hand back. "It's nothing. Just a dream."
His imagination thought of hundreds of things that she could have dreamed about, none of them good.
"How long was I asleep?"
"An hour and a half?"
"Did Shelby call?"
"No. I would have woken you up."
"Right." She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Of course."
Her phone rang behind him and they both jumped. It only took him a second to disconnect it from the charger and hand it to her. She stared at it, reminding him of her first phone call with Beth and a different sort of seriousness. Only this time it didn't take her nearly as long to put it up to her ear as the last. And he had no idea if things would work out or any encouraging words.
Luckily, the conversation she had with Shelby was short and all he needed to see was the deep breath and smile from her to know that Beth's injuries weren't life threatening.
"She's gonna be fine. A mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and a punctured lung that they had to re-inflate." By now she was wearing a stupid grin on her face. "They're gonna keep her in the hospital for a few days for observation, but she's gonna be fine."
Her grin was infectious because he was wearing one too as he said, "Good. That's great news."
They spent the next few seconds grinning at each other like the clinically insane before he yawned causing her to yawn which caused them to grin again.
"I'm exhausted," she said with a drooping head after they finally stopped grinning.
"Nap didn't help?"
She glanced down before she said, "Not really."
That was an exceedingly stupid comment he made trying to be quick witted and he knew it. Dropping his head, he tried to think of something more upbeat to say but his tired mind wasn't very helpful.
Things were made easy for him when she said, "Mike."
He lifted his head.
"Can— can I spend the night here?" His fog-addled mind had a hard time processing her question which she must have taken as his way of trying to come up with an excuse because she continued, "It's okay if you say no. I—"
"You can take my bed," he said as he got up. "I'll sleep out here."
"What? No!"
"Well, we can both sleep on the couch or you can take my bed. Choice is yours."
The grin came back before rubbed her neck and she said, "You do make an awful bed."
XXX
He checked in on her the next morning and saw her asleep, sprawled out across his bed, with the covers flung halfway off. It was still a work day, so after he straightened the covers he went through his morning routine and headed into the office.
It wasn't surprising when he heard that she called out mid-morning because she wasn't feeling well. No one complained or cared since it seemed like this was the first sick day that she had ever taken the entire time she was employed at Patton Boggs. Other than that, the day was pretty normal: He did work. Heather ignored hers and bugged him. He ate lunch. Heather continued to bug him. He got ready to leave for the day. Heather kept on bugging him.
When he got back to his place, he had to stop just inside the entrance and stare. Apparently, Quinn decided to clean up a bit before she left because his apartment was the cleanest it had been since just before he moved his first box of junk in. And by a bit, he meant a lot since there was crap sitting in neat piles or organized logically in drawers that he thought he threw away or lost during the move from Los Angeles.
Even the mess from dinner last night and a hurried breakfast this morning left in the kitchen was gone. His bedroom held more of the same, although there were piles of dirty laundry separated by washing requirements on the floor, but other than that the room looked wonderfully neat. He fixed that by stripping out of his work clothes and throwing them onto the made bed.
It was completely stupid, but all of this made him ridiculously happy and he failed at trying to keep a grin from appearing on his face. In hindsight, he was far too happy as he pulled out his phone to text her.
Thanks for cleaning
Thank you for last night. It meant a lot that you were there for me
He stared at what he typed out for a few seconds before dropping his phone and walking away. Thinking how immature he was acting, he came back minutes later and replied, You know I'll always be there for you
When she didn't respond for a few minutes, he figured she got caught up in something. When those few minutes stretched into 10 then 20, he worried that his last text might have ruined things again. Finally, his phone chimed again.
I know. Thanks for being the best friend I've ever had
Even though part of him knew it might have been coming, the f-word killed him.
XXX
"Who's got the first round?" Quinn asked as they walked into a bar to start their happy hour.
Mike and Heather immediately tapped their noses with their respective index fingers and said, "Not it."
Quinn turned around and glared at them.
"We'll grab seats," Heather said as she dragged Mike around Quinn and towards an open table.
When they had shrugged off their coats and taken seats opposite each other and Heather had taken a good long look behind him, she said, "Things between you and Quinn have gotten better."
"Yea," he said with a shrug, "I guess."
"Good. I don't like it when mom and dad are fighting."
It took him a second to process that thought and he made a face when he did. "That's…a disturbing thought."
"What? You and Quinn being parents together?"
"No. Having you for a kid."
"Hey!" He felt a kick from under the table. "I was an awesome kid."
"I'm sure you were. I just don't want you as mine."
Heather laughed then smiled wickedly at him before saying, "So, you don't find that other thought disgusting?"
"What's disgusting?" Quinn asked as she walked up with three glasses of beer clutched between her hands.
Mike stared at Heather, not sure how to respond because he didn't think Quinn would appreciate Heather's joke about mom and dad fighting.
Thankfully, Heather probably thought the same so, as she took a glass from Quinn, she said, "Oh, I was telling Mike all sorts of things about birth control."
Quinn gave the other woman an incredulous look. "Why?"
Heather shrugged. "Because I felt like it."
Quinn looked over at Mike and he shrugged as well before she handed him a glass and slid next to him on the bench seat.
"Speaking of birth control," Heather continued much to Quinn's dismay, "there's a woman on the third floor who's pregnant again. Now that's a person who could use a talk about birth control."
Mike laughed while Quinn groaned and drank her beer. He loved happy hour, especially if there were two people he love being with sitting at the table with him.