4.12.6

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He follows her out the door and they walk in silence for a moment. Quinn thinks about the day, about being state side, about the choice he made. And though everything is up in the air and he doesn't at all know where he stands, he at least knows he made the right decision for once. To step away from the darkness that keeps trying to draw him in, at least make another attempt at achieving escape velocity.

"Frannie took a shine to you," Carrie finally comments, breaks through the quietness.

"Yeah, we made friends," he replies with a laugh.

Quinn thinks about Carrie being a mom, how fucking unlikely it all is. How the entire time in Islamabad she never mentioned her kid once; how different things can become in a matter of days.

A week ago they both came close to death. Even just two weeks ago Carrie was the coldest human being he knew. And now, he sees things in her that he thought were gone forever.

"You've been quiet," she comments.

And Quinn knows she's right; everything that's been going through his head has got him tied up in the sudden meeting of past, present and future. That he's been thinking about things that were complete impossibilities, notions that weren't ever meant to be seriously considered.

"Thinking," he replies, not wanting to give too much away.

Carrie gives him a two count to elaborate, then pushes it when he doesn't.

"About?" she asks.

He wonders how to tell her, how to talk to her about something so mundane, so normal. Knows he doesn't have the words to describe everything going through him at the moment, all the thoughts, emotions, hopes.

"This," he answers, waves his hands a bit to try and explain.

"What do you mean?" Carrie asks. And Quinn knows he's being obscure, that she probably thinks he's being difficult on purpose.

"Being home," he replies with a sigh. "Being away from all that."

"Yeah," Carrie says, as if she can't believe it either. "Normal life,"

"Yeah," Quinn answers, right away. Thinks she actually might get it for once. "Feels good."

She smiles at that, a real fucking smile. And he thinks it really does feel good, really fucking good to see her like this.

"Just... laughing. You know," he continues, stumbling over his words a bit.

And Quinn thinks he must sound drunk though he only feels the residual effects of the whiskey - hopes she doesn't think him an idiot because he can't quite express himself. He just doesn't get this often, the chance to talk to her about something like this and it's still outside his comfort zone, feels awkward yet exhilarating.

But Carrie just keeps smiling at him and he can even see the lightness in her eyes, the way she's looking at him. And he thinks how good it is to be there - talking and laughing with her, letting himself care about her after trying to repress it for so long.

"Yeah... tonight was fun," she says, then looks away for a moment, her expression changing as she considers what she said.

"God is that awful?" she asks, a little self-consciously.

And he thinks how strange it is for Carrie to give a shit about what he thinks of her, for her to be concerned about appearing cold-hearted.

"No, not at all," Quinn replies quickly, wants her to know he's with her, that he forgives her for the past, for everything she's put him through.

"It was sad but... fun," Carrie says with a shrug and that same genuine smile, the one he can't stop staring at.

So he just keeps looking at her. And the way Carrie's looking back... well, he's never seen it before. But Quinn can definitely see where things are heading, gives himself a moment to wonder it's just the whiskey. Because as many times as he's let this thought slip into his head, he'd actually been fairly sure it could never happen.

And he thinks they make the move at the same time, then his lips are on hers and there's no more time for thinking.

It starts slow but charged, the feel of her mouth on his overwhelming as he leans her back against the truck, starts to kiss her more fiercely, let some of his latent passion out. Then Carrie's hand is on his neck, pulling him towards her. And Quinn still can't quite believe it's happening as he finds his fingers in her hair, presses up against her as tight as he can, loses himself in her.

Because it's beyond comprehension, being so close to Carrie, the heat of her breath mingling with his, the feel of her body up against him. It's all of the energy that has always existed between them, just pushed in a new direction. And then just as Quinn thinks he could do this forever, that he's never wanted anything more, Carrie pulls away, leans her head against his shoulder and walks away from him.

######

Carrie's got her hands in Quinn's hair, pulls him closer, her mouth hot against his. And she still doesn't know exactly how it happened, thinks they were making awkward small talk just a moment ago. And it's a little bit due to the booze but she knows it's been sneaking up on them all day, that she'd made him stay around for a reason.

The moment had been soaked in anticipation. Right up to the point where he leaned in, and she caught him with her mouth, tugged him towards her. And now his fingers are laced through her hair, the fervor in his body diffusing into her. Carrie thinks this is everything she never expected from Quinn, this letting loose of self control.

And it just feels so fucking good to connect so furiously with him - she feels him etched onto her body, his lips seared into hers. But even now in the heat of the moment, with Quinn leaning against her, pressed up against the truck, she wonders how something that feels so fucking good can be such a bad idea.

Because this was never supposed to happen with Quinn - she'd always liked him too much. And honestly most of the time Carrie thought he actually didn't like her, always thought she was doing the wrong thing. She hadn't seen any of this coming until just that day.

His hands are pulling her closer, and she feels that electric intensity of his run right through her, spark that current that has always existed between them. Carrie's swept away by a tumble of emotions; feels so safe, so wanted. And it feels so fucking good to let loose with him, feel the tautness of his body up against hers.

Which then of course instantly turns to guilt that tells her that she doesn't deserve it, that it's a fucking bad idea, that she will royally fuck it up as she always does. And then he'd be gone forever - she'd lose him for good.

Great fucking choice, she thinks. And the worst part is Carrie knows she's likely to fuck it up either way, that this kind of shit just never works out for her. Relationships are just not something she can do. And fucking Quinn cannot possibly lead to anything but disaster.

And as the thoughts flow into her mind, she pulls out of the kiss, leans her head against his shoulder for a moment before walking away.

Carrie turns and looks at him, feels the panic welling up in her chest. Thinks of all the ways she destroys things, of her inability to keep people close. And all the heat of the moment before turns right into ice, sits in the pit of her stomach.

"Quinn, I'll just fuck it up," she says, hopes he will see the logic in what she's saying. Because he of all people should know what a bad idea this is, that it will end up hurting both of them.

"No you won't," he replies, shaking his head.

"I will... I do," she answers, thinks he doesn't know what he's talking about, hasn't seen how it always ends.

"I know how this goes... it ends badly," Carrie continues, being as truthful as she can. Because she owes him that at least, can't drag him into something that's predestined to fail.

"Til it doesn't," Quinn responds. And she remembers exactly how stubborn he can be. Determined, resolute.

She looks at him, wonders how he thinks it could possibly work after all he's seen of her. Because Carrie knows what she's like and she knows everyone leaves. That it's all her shit, that it's part and parcel of who she is.

And she only just got him back, just realized that she really does maybe love him, that she wasn't just saying it way the fuck back when. So above all she does not want to lose him again in a month or six, however long it takes for her to lose her mind at him, for him to give up.

"Come on, you know my shit," Carrie says, tries to remind him of how bad things get, the way she can be.

"You know mine," he interjects, adamant, unwilling to let it go.

And it's true, Quinn's not without issues himself. She's worried about him, thinks his emotions have been all over the place lately. But overall he's solid, stable. Everything that she isn't, everything she can't have.

Carrie's surprised he's pushing so hard, that he doesn't just take the easy way out. Honestly, at first she'd thought he was kissing her out of pure built up frustration, that it was just a momentary lapse on his part.

But she hadn't felt any anger from him - Quinn kissed like he cared, tender yet charged. Passion with a hint of sweetness, the exact mix of Quinn himself. And that's why she'd stepped back - because she had realized he meant it, that she might mean it too. Which could only lead to destruction.

"But you don't have my condition," she says with emphasis. Thinks he's letting the whiskey think for him, that he just has to remember the bad times. Because he has no idea what he's asking for.

But Quinn doesn't even pause, will not drop it.

"I've seen you," he says, pauses. And there's something in the way he says it, it reminds her that he's right, that there aren't many people who have ever really seen her. But she let him and he's never betrayed her trust.

And now the way Quinn's looking at her, Carrie feels like he's seeing right into her, that he really means it. Which fucking scares her to shit, because she actually sees some hope in him, wants to believe in the dream.

"At your worst," he adds.

Flashes fly through her mind, at the hospital, with Brody. The fucking mob, the command room in Islamabad. What's worse. she wonders. When she's lost her mind or when she's lost her heart? But he's seen them both, is still fighting for this, for whatever he sees in her.

"You should be heading for the hills," she replies with a huff. Tries to stop thinking about the glimmer of possibility, tells herself she can't do this to him, let him believe it could work.

But Quinn is serious as always, won't let her get away with anything.

"Look, Islamabad was ugly," he says. "It was a black hole and I don't want anything like that in my life ever again."

He pauses for a moment and Carrie thinks how he's been saying this all along, that she just purposely ignored him to meet her own ends. That she's been using him all this time, that this is the only way she knows how to be. And that hanging onto him was fucking unfair, almost left him dead, stranded in enemy territory with a price on his head.

"I want to get out, stay out," Quinn continues.

"Yeah," she replies, finally really gets it. Gets why he needs to get out, why he can never shake free. It's the same for her, she's always drawn back into the game. But he's further along the path than her and she can see it eating at him, fraying his edges.

"But I can't do it on my own," he says. "I've learned that."

And Carrie's surprised by his admittance, that there's anything Quinn can't do on his own. He is full of self reliance, personal competence. She thought he would never admit defeat, that he'd try until one day he managed to crawl out of the dark, pull himself out of the event horizon for good.

"Well, I haven't exactly been helpful," she replies, tries to pull in at least a share of the blame. Let him know that she sees it now, that she's been fucking him over, using him to her own ends. And the worst part is Carrie thinks he could have done it, before he came back to Islamabad, when he was obviously really fucked up. But of course she hadn't thought of any of that when she begged him to come back.

"But you could be," Quinn says. And now Carrie really has no idea where his mind is, what he's about to say. Because if he really thinks she can help him get out he obviously doesn't remember her track record, her own enduring loyalty to their employer.

"You want out too," he continues. "We get out together."

For a second she thinks he can't possibly be serious, or that he's a lot drunker than she thought. She can't believe he would want that of her. With her. Something normal, without the constant life or death. With Quinn of all people. Her fucking sensitive assassin.

Well, he always did make bad choices, she thinks. Stuck with her straight through til now, just kept coming back for more.

Carrie wonders what he's thinking, if he's been thinking about this all along or if it was spur of the moment. Because she didn't see it coming at all, feels both blindsided and astounded that he would want this.

And Quinn gives nothing in his eyes, just a half smile and his usual intense look. But he obviously means everything he's said and that makes her fucking scared. Because right now Carrie really fucking wants him, wants to try. And she's sure that's going to lead to losing him for good, knows that's the way it is.

"Well, you think about it, Carrie," he says after what seems like forever. Then reaches out, tucks her hair behind her ear.

His touch is electric against her skin and she puts her hand over his, holds it to her neck to absorb the feeling of it. And she thinks this is the Quinn she's known all along, that she just never let him care so much, always pushed him back beyond the boundary.

But right now, looking at him, his hand on her neck, Carrie doesn't know why she resisted it for so long. Impulsively she puts a little kiss on his palm, hopes he understands that she really does love him right now, just has no idea what to say.

And he looks at her intently for another few breaths, then smiles and lets her go. Carrie backs off, immediately feels more at ease yet sad to step away.

Quinn looks at her one last time, gives her his furtive smile. But all she can think is he can't possibly want this, that he's let the emotions of the day get to him. And that she can't give him what he needs, that she's bound to fuck it up as always.

But it does feel good that he offered, that he is naive enough to think she can be counted on. So Carrie gives him a nervous smile, watches him drive away. Thinks that at the start of the day she would have been ecstatic just to know he was still alive, that he didn't still hate her. Had fairly convinced herself she would never see him again, that he was done with her.

And now he's here and he wants to stay.

Which just makes her question everything - what she wants, what she needs, who she is. Because it's been a fucking hard year, even if she only just realized how bad things had gotten, how far she had gone, how much she owes him. And Carrie doesn't at all know what she's ready for, isn't sure she's willing to let him in, if she can let go of her lifestyle, step away from the job.

But she does know it felt fucking good to see him, to hold him, to taste him. That he has been there for her, that she wants to be there for him.

And most of all Carrie knows that part of her loves him, is just sure it won't be enough.