"You could fit three of my apartments into one of yours," Tony told her after she had given him the "grand tour" of her place. "Seriously…what's the square footage here?"
Quinn shrugged. "I have no idea. I wanted to be secure, and this place gives me that."
They started supper, pizza and salad. Quinn offered him a glass of white wine, and they sat in her living room on her L-shaped microfiber couch, listening to the wind and ice pelt everything outside.
"So, Quinn, we haven't really talked about the other night, you know, New Year's Eve," he started. "I want you to know that you'll always be safe with me…I'm one of the good guys."
The conversation was solemn, serious. She smiled a little. "I know."
"Remember at the diner, that guy Gibbs?" She nodded. "He's my old boss…I worked as a federal agent at NCIS."
She just looked at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I need you to know that I have a permit to carry concealed…I always have my gun on me," Tony said. He stood up, lifted up the edge of his sweater, and she saw the gun holstered at his waist.
"Did you have it at the shop?" she asked. He nodded. "Would you have used it…if you had to?" He nodded again.
"If this bothers you in any way, I'll go," he said quietly. "Usually, I put it in a safe place at home or…if I'm staying overnight someplace…"
Quinn suddenly recalled Finn Hudson shooting himself in basic training.
"Have you ever been shot?"
"Grazed."
"Shot yourself?"
He looked at her quizzically. "No."
"Is it loaded?"
"Right now, yes. I'll unload it when I unholster it. Have you ever fired a gun?"
She rubbed her right shoulder. "Yes."
"A rifle?"
She looked at him, confused. "How'd you know?"
"Rubbed your right shoulder…it's a tell. At NCIS, I did a lot of investigating and interrogating."
"I see. Why'd you leave?" He looked at her for a moment.
"It was time for me to retire," he said, quietly.
He had removed his holstered gun and was still holding it. "So, is there somewhere that is okay with you for me to put it?"
The timer dinged in the kitchen, and they both jumped. Frozen pizza was done.
"C'mon," she said, going to the kitchen. She removed the pizza from the oven. "Wherever you think is best. You know, to put your gun." He took it out of the holster, unloaded it, and left it all on the end of the counter closest to the living room, along with his wallet and keys. Then, he looked to Quinn for approval. She nodded.
Tony was relieved. Telling her about the gun and NCIS was something major he needed to share with her. He returned to prepping their salads.
"I'm not sure I ever thanked you for busting that dude in the head that night," he said to her.
She chuckled a little while slicing the pizza and looked at him. He looked so relaxed, wearing a flannel button-up shirt unbuttoned over a thermal undershirt and olive green cargo pants.
"I'm pretty sure you did," she replied, sidling up next to him. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Another glass?"
After supper, they returned to the living room and peered outside. Everything was shiny with ice; they could hear ice cracking when the wind blew the power lines. TV reported power outages, so they both charged their phones. Every once in a while the lights would flicker on and off.
"It's a bit drafty by the windows…I'll get a blanket or two," she told him, leaving the room. He fiddled with the TV to see what was on. She returned wearing pajama pants and an old McKinley High School Cheerios t-shirt.
"Tell me about the Cheerios, Quinn," he said, smiling. She sat down next to him on the couch and tossed a blanket over their laps. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"My high school cheer squad. We actually won national championships," she said, laughing at the memories. "Crazy times."
"So, cheerleader…"
"Head Cheerio for a time…"
"Head Cheerio and Glee Club? Interesting combination."
She rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
He laughed and kept moving through channels.
"My Best Friend's Wedding?" he asked. "It's not too bad."
She agreed and popped some popcorn. She joined him on her couch, curling up next to him under the blanket, along with the popcorn and bottle of wine.
"Oh! Pause it right there!" Quinn shouted suddenly, gripping his knee. They had been laughing through the movie and had polished off the bottle of wine. Actually, Quinn finished Tony's third glass and then the rest of the bottle. "This is what I sang to audition for Glee in high school!"
"Really? You're kidding," he replied. "Prove it."
They stared each other down for a minute and then she said, "I can do that."
She untangled herself from the blanket and Tony's arm and hopped up off the couch, giggling.
"Go ahead," she said, pointing to the TV. "Click it."
Tony clicked it, keeping his eyes on Quinn.
Singing, to tease him, she began, "I say a little prayer for you…"
She re-created her audition for Tony, minus her backup singers. His eyes were opened wide, and he had sat up to the edge of the couch.
"To live without you would only mean heartbreak for me…" she finished, laughing.
The scene on TV was not finished, however. Tony leapt from the couch, grabbing Quinn's hands to spin her around and dip her. They both fell back to the couch, laughing at themselves and then the rest of the scene in the movie.
"The lobster claws always get me," Tony said, hitting pause again. He turned to face her. "Answer his prayer…" he whisper-sang, pulling her close to him.
She surprised him by pulling him close to her with so much strength she fell onto her back with him hovering over her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and drew him in for a lingering kiss. Her breath was hot, her fingers running through his hair. Instinctively, he pushed his groin against hers, his erection finding the heat between her legs. He moved against her, adjusting himself to align with her. But then, with what resolve he had left and a grunt, he pulled back.
Breathless, he said, "Quinn…" She tried to pull him back to her mouth. He pushed himself up and pulled her along with him. "Not like this…not the first time…"
When he pulled her upward, her head and the room swam, and then she remembered how it felt with Noah Puckerman on top of her, feeding her wine coolers and not listening to her say no.
She bolted up and to the half bathroom, just in time to heave her entire dinner into the toilet. Tony followed her, holding back her hair from her face. He dampened a hand towel and held it to her forehead. She sat back on the floor while he flushed the commode.
"Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed," she said, holding the damp hand towel over her face.
"It happens to all of us," he assured her, stroking her hair. "Feel any better?"
"After I brush my teeth maybe…"
He helped her up, and she went to her own bathroom to take care of her teeth while he returned to the couch. He sat down next to the empty wine bottle. He picked it up and took it to the kitchen to throw it away. There, he poured her a large glass of water and returned to the couch.
She returned and lay down with her head on his thigh.
"I never drink like that…not sure what I was thinking," she mumbled to him.
"C'mon, sit up for a minute…drink this water. Do you have Tylenol?" She sat up and drank the water.
"Yeah, thanks. Is it okay if we turn down the lights; I'm gonna lie down for a bit," she said to him.
He ran his fingers along her cheek and brushed a strand of her hair back. "It's okay if I stay?"
"Sure," she smiled and yawned. "The weather's terrible."
She took one section of the couch, and he took the other, their heads resting at the joint. Quinn was sleeping within minutes, lightly snoring. Tony lay there listening to the ice crackle outside and thought of the next step he needed to take with Quinn.
Quinn awoke to sounds in the kitchen. Her head ached but not too badly. Tony was gone from the couch, his blanket folded neatly at the end. He brought her a glass of orange juice.
"I have a great hangover remedy," he told her. "I'll be back…" said Terminator style.
He returned with a plate with a plain bagel loaded with avocado, cream cheese, and a tomato and some green grapes on the side. He handed it to her as she sat up.
"Eat up," he instructed. He had a glass of OJ and sat down with her.
She was more hungry than she first thought and wolfed down the bagel, feeling full and satisfied.
She thanked him for the breakfast and then apologized for the night before.
"Like I said, no big deal…obviously, I have a hangover remedy because I've needed it in the past," he told her.
"At least all my lamp shades are intact," she laughed a bit. He smiled back at her.
"So, I'm going to head out soon…I need to check on my shop and I have a couple fish to feed at my place. I needed to tell you something, though…"
"That you don't ever want to see me again?"
His eyes widened. "Uh, no. It's just…I'll be out of the country for a few days in the middle of February. Visiting family."
"Oh, okay. Do you need a lift to the airport?" she asked.
He hadn't thought about that. "Sure, that'd be awesome. I need to ask another favor, too. The fish. Do you think you can feed them while I'm gone?"
"Granting me access to the inner sanctum?" she laughed. "Sure…that's the least I can do after the dismal end of last night."
"Last night was great…time with you is always good for me," he replied with a wink.
He prepared to leave, and, at her door, he embraced her. "You mean a lot to me, Quinn," he whispered into her hair.
"Anthony…" she whispered back to him.
They parted, and he headed out. Quinn immediately went to her journal to write down everything she remembered from the night before…especially how she felt when he was above her on the couch, pressing into her.