Twelve: Quinn's Every Breath
Soundtrack: (still) Every Breath You Take by The Police
Quinn was not happy. It was not easy to be with her when she was wearing that dress. And then Janvier showed up and kept leering at her. Then she sat down at the piano and played that song and sang... sang like a professional. Like she did that every night of her life. It was very other-worldly. On the outside he had to act like he knew all along she could do that while on the inside he just stood there with his mouth hanging open.
And now he had to watch Janvier put his hands on her. He thought it would be good to hear their conversation, but it wasn't. He had to listen to thinly veiled threats and jabs at his manhood.
It wasn't fun. He wasn't happy.
He walked to the bar and ordered a bourbon neat.
"The last time I saw you, Melissa, you were working for and engaged to Mickey O'Mara. Now you're working for Arden Doyle, protecting Eliot Spencer, and married to this tool Quinn. What happened?"
"Mickey was minor league on all accounts," she replied. "It was time for me to move on."
"And how did you catch Doyle's eye?"
"I walked into his compound on his private island and introduced myself," she said.
There was a moment of silence, and Quinn turned to watch them.
Janvier wasn't a physically impressive man. Barely Jocelyn's height with her heels on. Fit, but not muscular. Dirty blond hair with too much product and an unusually crooked mouth. If he remembered correctly from Hardison's debrief, Janvier was in his early 40s and ran a small, but impressive organized crime syndicate in addition to several legitimate businesses which he used to launder money.
Janvier laughed. "I would very much have liked to see that," he said.
She shrugged, and held Quinn's eyes for a moment.
"Tell me why you're protecting Spencer."
She turned her eyes back to Janvier. "Tell me why you want him dead."
After a quiet moment Janvier said, "There are things happening within my organization… items disappearing, people turning, law enforcement snooping… very few people could put all the pieces together. Eliot Spencer is one of them."
She gave Janvier a thoughtful look. "He's just one of them? Then why target him?"
"I have targeted all of them, ma cherie," Janvier replied. "Apparently Spencer is the only one you care about."
"Arden cares about," she corrected. "Eliot was retired, you know."
"That's not strictly true," Janvier countered. "I heard he was using his skills for more noble purposes. Which makes it even more likely that he is trying to topple my organization."
"I guarantee… Arden Doyle guarantees that Eliot is not trying to bring down your organization," she said.
"And why does Doyle care so much?"
"I don't know," she said.
"You just do what Doyle says?" he asked.
"Pretty much."
"Is that what happened with Quinn? Did Doyle tell you to marry him?"
Quinn finished his bourbon and turned back to order another.
"Doyle had nothing to do with that," she replied.
"Then why? Help me understand, Melissa" Janvier continued. "You date Mickey for years and don't marry him, but two months with a man who tried to kill you... yes, I heard the story... two months with this one and you're married?"
"After a moment she said, "Who can explain love?"
"How very French!" Janvier laughed. "But try." There was some more silence and then Janvier prodded her. "I mean I see that he is an attractive man if you're into the rugged, less cerebral type..."
Eliot laughed.
"But that is not enough to move a woman like you into such a quick marriage."
Quinn took his drink and turned back towards them. He was slightly surprised to find her staring at him. She smiled.
"He thrills me in a way no man ever has. And maybe the fact that he tried to kill me and couldn't makes it all that much more thrilling." She paused, keeping her eyes on him as Janvier moved them in a slow circle. "Everything is better with him. And I don't want to be without him. So, when he was stupid enough to propose, I accepted."
Now Janvier was looking at him. He ran his eyes over him and then looked back and forth between the two of them. "He may thrill you, ma cherie, but I see no real connection between you two."
She exhaled. "I didn't come here to get your blessing, Didier. I came here to talk business."
"Business," Janvier said. "Of course. Both you and your tool husband will play on my team tomorrow night."
"Uh-uh, no!" Eliot said.
She exhaled forcefully. "The contract, Didier," she said. "I'm here on behalf of Doyle to negotiate repeal of the contract…"
"We can discuss that after we win the game," Janvier said.
"Game?" Parker asked.
"I'm in no shape to compete," she said. "I got injured on my last job."
He stopped moving and put one hand on her cheek. "You are a strong woman, Melissa. This I know. And a fierce competitor. If you want to negotiate anything you and your husband will play."
Quinn moved instinctively toward the dance floor, setting his drink on a table as he passed.
"Fine," Jocelyn said, a controlled anger coloring her words. "We'll play."
Janvier moved, blocking Quinn's view with his back. But he knew Janvier's hands were no longer where they should be.
"Don't hit him, Quinn!" Ford said.
Quinn took a deep breath and tapped Janvier on the shoulder. As Janvier turned, Quinn was able to see that he was stroking her arm with one hand and the other was on her hip. And there wasn't near enough space between them.
Janvier gave him a smug smile.
"You said you'd be a perfect gentleman," Quinn said through a clenched jaw.
Janvier laughed. "I'm being a perfect French gentleman."
"Oh, he wants to be punched!" Hardison said.
"No!" Ford snapped.
"We're not in France," Quinn said extending his hand to Jocelyn. "And this dance is over."
The moment he felt her hand in his he pulled her to his side.
Janvier ran his eyes over Jocelyn and gave a creepy laugh. "Ah, well, we've always got tomorrow night."
Quinn had heard all of it but had to act as if he hadn't. How would a jealous husband who couldn't punch the prick react?
"I think we have plans tomorrow night," he said.
"Yes, to play the game! With me! On my team!"
"The bragging rights game?" Quinn asked.
"You have never been invited before, have you?" Janvier said. "It is always fun and can be quite profitable if you're on the winning team." He looked at Jocelyn. "It will be even better this year. I hired a local firm to design the course and act as game masters. It is going to be... how do gamers say it...? Epic!"