March 31st, 2014
New York, New York—Avengers Tower, 89th floor, Tony's lab
The lab was, as per usual, colder than the rest of the tower in order to keep the computers and scientific equipment from overheating, but Quinn didn't mind. Since she kept her apartment in the tower about the same temperature, she quite liked it. And she liked wearing sweaters. She also liked how few people were in the lab at any given time. Only three people could get in—Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, and Dr. Bruce Banner; though JARVIS could open the doors in an emergency—or let other people in. Non–scientifically minded people were never left unsupervised. Tony would let Quinn hang out in there with him while he worked sometimes, because she was usually quiet unless he wanted conversation and despite having no scientific or engineering knowledge, she could serve as a decent sounding board or point out something he'd overlooked. She was also pretty curious and liked to learn, especially when it came to tech he was designing for the Avengers.
Currently, Quinn was lying on the floor in front of one of the worktables, out of the way of Tony's wheeled stool, flipping through the proposed design and staffing plan for converting some old Stark Industries warehouses into the Avengers Compound, a larger base better suited to have dozens of people living, working, and training in, and nibbling from a bowl of peanut-butter-filled pretzels. Her oversized black hoodie sleeves were pulled low over her hands, her fingers only poking out to grab another bite to eat.
"Why did you print out the whole proposal and ask me to read it? You could have just emailed it to me. This feels remarkably low-tech for you," she said around a mouthful of pretzel.
"Figured you might want a break from the screen after a full day of SHIELD reports," he said simply as he wheeled over to another table, where he made some notes on the interactive holographic display. Quinn had spent a not-insignificant amount of time complaining about the paperwork she had to do for SHIELD, including but not limited to: checking 0-8-4 reports for potential Avengers Initiative candidates, filing mission reports for any operations completed by members of the Avengers, and digitizing old files related to the Avengers. Tony had made his annoyance with her complaints clear. "JARVIS, save and file this on the secure server." It looked like Tony was working on adapting the technology in the leg brace he made for Quinn for other mobility assist devices.
"Right away, sir."
"I appreciate giving my eyes a rest," Quinn said, turning said tawny eyes back to the pages in front of her.
"You're also terrible at doing markup on a computer, Scottie. I can never read it. You'd think they would have taught you how to use technology better at SHIELD. I know you have the right tech—I bought it."
Quinn sat up Frankenstein-style and glared playfully at Tony, who snorted from his position across the lab. "You could have just left it at doing me a favour, Stark. Would have thought you'd have learned when to keep your mouth shut by now." When he turned towards her, mouth open to speak, Quinn hucked a pretzel at him. He caught it in his mouth, grinned, and Quinn rolled her eyes. "You are insufferable. Like the brother I never wanted."
"I thought that was Barton."
Chuckling, Quinn adjusted her position so she could put the report on the floor and use the red pen provided by Tony to add more mark up the pages. "Clint's the big brother I always wanted, thank you very much. As much as he annoys me sometimes—" Quinn ate another pretzel, made a few more marks on the report "—he's usually right, unlike my actual big brother, who didn't give two shits about me or any of our other siblings and thought running from our past was the best option. You, on the other hand, are just annoying."
If Tony was taken aback by her casual mention of her biological sibling, he didn't show it. "I'm offended."
"Oh please." Quinn made her last legitimate markup, drew a smiley face with its tongue sticking out, and flipped the report closed. "I'm surprised you wanted my opinion on something as big and important as the new Avengers base."
Tony gestured for the booklet as he rolled closer to Quinn. "Since you'll likely be one of those living as well as working there, I figured yours would be a good opinion to get. Not to mention you'll be helping train the peons, along with Hill, when she's around."
Quinn paused in handing him the report. She'd been hoping for something more eloquent but a startled "What?" was all that came out.
"Since the current plan is for a hybrid SHIELD/Avengers workforce, I figured you and Hill would be the best to head up the SHIELD side. You've shown skill in managing a hoard of lackeys, even when you don't want to, and I know Hill's a force. Besides, you have ample experience with both sides of the partnership," he said casually as he grabbed one side of the booklet. "What, did you think I'd put someone above you?"
Quinn let go and shrugged. "I honestly hadn't thought that much about it, but yeah, kind of."
"You wound me."
"Oh, please."
He started flipping through the pages, scanning her notes; she could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes. "Your handwriting isn't much clearer than your digital writing," Tony commented. "But you make some good points, especially about increasing the recreation facilities, and making sure there's a clear division between living quarters and working areas."
Quinn rolled her eyes again, adding in a huff for good measure. "Yeah, just because you have no work-life balance doesn't mean the rest of us shouldn't, especially those of us who are support staff."
Tony frowned at her over the top of the report. "What is this work-life balance? I've never heard of it."
"I'm shocked." Quinn climbed carefully to her feet, moving slowly in case her feet or legs decided to fall asleep or cramp on her. "How does Pepper put up with you?"
"I'm irresistibly charming and good in bed."
Quinn made a gagging noise and doubled over like she was going to throw up, and then laughed as she straightened and shot a grin at Tony.
"Very funny, Scottie. I wonder how Steve puts up with your lovely sense of humour."
It was meant as a joke, Quinn knew it was. But she couldn't stop the frissons of emotions that shot through her at Tony's words: anger at Tony for intruding into whatever relationship she and Steve had, sadness at having not seen Steve since their conversation at the beginning of the year, shame that such an innocent comment could make her react so intensely. She passed it all off with a small shake of her head and a laugh that sounded far too forced, but she hoped Tony wouldn't notice; hoped, but didn't really expect him to let it go.
He didn't.
"How are things with you two?" he asked as Quinn picked her phone and ID badge up off the floor and set them on the table next to her. "It's been what? Six months since he was in New York?"
"Tony—"
"Don't brush it off, Scottie."
She met his steady gaze. He was still sitting on the wheeled stool, fiddling with a pen or something, but his eyes didn't leave her, not even when she was silent for far longer than was comfortable. As much as he annoyed her, Quinn knew Tony cared and she liked that he cared. "Things are in limbo," she finally said, not a trace of the teasing left in her voice. "And will be until we see each other again, whenever that is." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her words. "Steve said it would be soon, within a few months, but specifics have been a luxury since he started with Strike Team Delta." Her eyes dropped to the floor and she stared through the transparent tiles to the secondary lab area below, studying whatever she could see, which wasn't much.
Tony was quiet for a moment, then said, "Well, if you can survive a battle between Asgardians and Dark Elves with only minor injuries, I think you can stand waiting a little while longer. If Steve said a few more months, it'll be soon."
Quinn forced herself to smile, and gathered up her things. "Here's hoping. Let me know if you want to talk about that report further, and send me larger map files when you can. I can make some notes on where I think things should go for optimal efficiency." Tony raised an eyebrow, and Quinn couldn't stop a chuckle. "Okay, fine. I just want to look at them and see where everything is going to go. I've gotta talk to Hill about some stuff and check in with Barton."
"Keep your chin up!"
Hearing the laughter in Tony's voice and knowing he was trying to get a rise out of her again to cheer her up, Quinn raised one hand over her shoulder and gave Tony the finger. His laughter followed her into the elevator.
March 31st, 2014
New York, New York—Avengers Tower, 70th floor, Quinn's office
After she'd stepped off the elevator and made her way to her office at the end of the hall—Tony had humoured her joking request for a corner office but made it as far from the elevators as he could—Quinn's phone buzzed in her sweater pocket. She fished it out and smiled when she saw Steve's name. Answering with a swipe of her thumb, she said, "I thought you were going to try texting more."
"What if I just wanted to hear your voice?"
Quinn beamed, her cheeks warming and all traces of bitterness and anger from her conversation with Tony gone; the effect Steve had on her—had always had on her—was immediate and intense. She sat in her desk chair and leaned back, her braced leg propped up on the footstool under her desk. "I suppose that's an acceptable excuse. What's up?"
"Just wanted to let you know that we're en route to our last mission before we return to DC. We're due back tomorrow morning, and I should be in New York by the day after." There was a pause, and Quinn heard Steve inhale the way he did when he was nervous or unsure about something he wanted to say. "Unless maybe you wanted to meet me in DC?" he asked, a little hesitation in his voice.
Quinn wasn't sure how he could doubt her answer, especially not if he was as excited as she was about the prospect of seeing each other in person as she was. "Of course! We can finally check out the Captain America exhibit at the Smithosian."
Steve snorted. "If you want. I'll have to go in disguise or we'll be there forever."
"You mean you don't want to be a living part of the exhibit and sign autographs and take pictures for hours?"
"Not really."
"Well, that's shocking." Steve laughed, and Quinn knew she was beaming. "You know Tony bought me a toy shield for Christmas—will you sign it for me, Cap?" she asked impishly.
"We'll just have to see once I'm back in New York."
His tone made her blush—she might have commented, but she wasn't sure Steve knew he was flirting, or what that voice did to her—and she chuckled. "I'll try and be at your place in time for a late dinner. I know it won't be Friday, but we could get takeout and watch a movie like old times."
"I'd like that," Steve said, his smile clear in his voice.
Quinn wished he'd FaceTimed her instead, but the internet where he was might not have been good enough to maintain a connection, or maybe he didn't want to risk sharing anything classified in the background. "Me too. I hope we can have a few days of peace, at least."
"I do too, but we haven't had great luck with that in the past, have we?"
"Not since you were first defrosted."
Steve was quiet for a second before he said, "I think about our time at The Retreat sometimes." HIs voice was quiet.
Quinn closed her eyes, smiling. "I do too."
"It was peaceful, even if we didn't really know each other yet. Well, mostly peaceful."
"It would be nice to go to a place like that again—and even better now that we're… close." They were so much more than close, but they hadn't had time together since taking that step and they definitely hadn't talked about the more nuanced definitions of their relationship. "Go somewhere where we can just be Steve and Quinn for a while, you know?"
"That would be nice. Sounds like heaven after the last year." Quinn could hear Steve shifting around, and voices in the distance, but she knew better than to ask what was happening. She didn't want the conversation to end. "It'll be nice to escape the noise of the city too."
Part of Quinn wanted to make some quip about Steve still having trouble adjusting to the twenty-first century, but instead she said, "I know what you mean. There's just always a buzz. Remember when it stormed at The Retreat, and you could feel the thunder in your chest?"
"It sounded like it was right on top of us, like it might shake the cabin apart."
"It might have, if it wasn't reinforced with vibranium." They laughed together, and Quinn's heart squeezed in her chest. She wanted to hug Steve, press her face into his chest, feel his chin on her head, tucking her into the spot where she fit so well. "Let's get out of the city as soon as we can, okay?"
"Do you think there will ever be time?"
"We'll have to make time."
"You say that like either of us would be able to walk away easily, even temporarily."
"Just say we'll go."
Steve's answering laugh was mirthless. "We'll go. We'll find a cabin somewhere to hide for a few weeks, somewhere no one can find us."
"Sounds perfect."
They fell into the comfortable silence they sometimes did on phone calls, and Quinn did what she always did: pictured Steve in his uniform, sitting somewhere dimly lit, usually next to a window so there would be dramatic lighting on the lines of his face, the phone held to his ear, and her favourite small smile on his lips. She opened her mouth to say something after a minute, but Steve spoke first.
"I—" Steve cut himself off and Quinn could hear louder, sharper voices in the background; she knew what that meant. "It's time to head out," Steve said sadly.
"All right. Good luck and come back in one piece, please."
"I'll text you when we touch down in DC."
"You'd better. Talk to you soon."
"Bye, Quinn."
Quinn ended the call and put her phone face-down on her desk. She felt better, as she usually did after talking to Steve, but she missed him so much it ached. She longed for the previous summer when she'd seen him all the time and things between them had been easy. The pain of trying—and probably failing—to hide how she felt had been lessened by actually being around Steve, because he made her comfortable and made it seem like her turmoil wasn't such a big deal, as long as she could fall asleep beside him on the couch as they watched movies and ate takeout.
She grabbed the journal Peggy had given her for Christmas two years ago and opened it to the next blank page. Quinn had been faithfully writing in the journal every day, summarizing how she felt and what had happened. She was finding it cathartic and felt like she understood her great-grandfather—and his journaling—a lot more. Hers weren't likely to contain any events like World War II, but figuring someone, someday might want an account of the Avengers from someone close to them, she'd also been documenting what she remembered about her experience with the Avengers Initiative and the heroes themselves. It also gave her something to do to keep from getting too lost in her thoughts.
Okay, she thought as she wrote down what had happened that day, I guess the Battle of New York might fall into the same category as World War II, at least as far as world-changing events go, but we have social media now. Primary sources probably won't be held with the same regard.
She finished the paragraph and then shook her head, smiling to herself. What the hell am I thinking?
Anything to keep your mind off Steve.
