Like Humpty Dumpty
"Excuse me, are you Carrie Mathison?"
Carrie looked up from the mesmerising gibberish of the spreadsheet she had been lost in, her eyes taking a full second to adjust to the real world once more. A shortish, scruffy man with mousy hair, a matching untidy beard and an air of complete insignificance, stood awkwardly at the side of her desk.
"Yes I am, can I help you?" she responded too tersely but she was not in the mood for irrelevancies - this computer shit was trying her patience to extremes.
"I hope so." His smile was polite and unmemorable but Carrie caught something in the glint of his eye, something hard and intense, which seemed far more important than the rest of this guy put together, something that belied his nondescript air and grabbed her curiosity. "Can we go somewhere a little more private please?" he responded, glancing around the office at the rest of the team. Although they appeared engrossed in their work, Carrie could just sense their curious ears straining for any juicy gossip.
"OK," she stood and moved toward the conference room.
"Outside maybe?" he asked. "Call me paranoid but I don't trust these office types, more difficult to keep a secret from them than from the fucking enemy. No offence intended."
Carrie raised her eyebrows. "None taken, Mr?"
"Rob, just call me Rob," he replied, turning to leave the office.
As they passed Bakri, Sammi sniffed disrespectfully and said snidely so only they could hear. "Watch yourself Mathison, you don't know where these black ops guys have been. And you can be sure they will have caught something nasty while they were there!"
Rob turned slightly. "The most unpleasant thing I ever caught was you, so fuck off, asshole!" he hissed over his shoulder.
"Whatever, macho man!" Bakri purred back, batting his eyelids flippantly.
Carrie rolled her eyes. "What was that all about?" she asked as they exited into the daylight. It was another fine spring day, with the sun bright in a crystal clear blue sky. The trace of flower pollen wafted on the gentle breeze mixing with the fumes from the nearby parking lot. Carrie accepted the cigarette Rob offered, bending her head to light it and taking a long drag before blowing smoke out to add to the cacophony of scents.
"Smoke free office shit!" Rob muttered before continuing, "Apologies. I've known that jerk for some time, we came across each other on a mission. A couple of good guys died to save his sad ass and the only thanks we get is he continually makes cheap comments. Ever think your efforts are not worth what they cost?" Carrie nodded as Rob continued, "Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about." He hesitated and looked around them, still concerned that they were not alone.
"Are you always this jumpy? There's nobody in listening distance and I swear I haven't got a wire, so please go on," Carrie prompted being as polite as she could muster.
"Sorry, it's comes with the job. Anyway I think we have a mutual friend, and I mean 'friend' in the widest possible sense of the word, the guy's a stubborn, uncommunicative, volatile, tight-lipped douchebag."
"Quinn?" Carrie speculated, rolling her eyes at the appropriateness of the description.
Rob smiled cheerily. "Got it in one."
"Isn't he just!" Carrie agreed. "So?"
"I wouldn't want you to think that I do this all the time, I mean I normally let my guys sort out their own shit or we do it together, don't involve anybody else but on this occasion I don't seem to be getting very far. And I will do whatever it damn well takes to sort this - Peter deserves better!" He snorted. "You know he failed the physical, right?" Carrie nodded. "Shit man, he was so close and when you think what he's been through, he was just fucking awesome, fitter than most, but he won't see it that way. To him a failure is a fucking failure and he'll be beating himself up about it mercilessly." He stopped again. "Fuck, where am I going with this fucking apple pie and motherhood back story? You know all this right? I've said more words to you than I normally do in a whole day! The fact is that I've got an offer for him, something which might be enough to keep him near the team but not on active missions, enough to keep him grounded for a while at least until he gets his shit together permanently."
"And you're telling me because?"
"I've been ringing the fuck off his phone but got no answer. I swear he'll be holed up somewhere with sixteen bottles of whiskey getting himself shitfaced, cos we've all been there. But he doesn't need to, not at least until he hears me out." He stopped, blew a smoke ring and grunted. "Shit, what a load of squishy bullshit I just spouted! Feel like I must have eaten a fucking dictionary for breakfast!" He finished, shaking his head slowly at his own verbosity but eyes wide and imploring nonetheless.
Carrie sighed. "I wish I could help but..."
Rob raised his hands impatiently as he cut in. "No, don't give me that 'but' bullshit, that's not going to help anyone. I know it's tough for you lot being at home, I reckon it takes a harder, stronger heart to watch someone march off to war and carry on with a normal life than it ever does to do the marching. We get the adrenaline rush, you get only to pick up the broken pieces and somehow put us back together again like fucking Humpty Dumpty." He hesitated. "The last mission I did with Quinn, that Syria one, he left you the letter." Again he stopped to emphasise the importance of his words, breathing out a mouthful of smoke. "I worked with him for twelve years, in all that time you are the only one he ever sent the letter to and that means something fucking important to us guys. Don't cave on him now. I know he's probably given you a shitload of pain but..." He stopped finally running out of words.
Carrie hesitated. Quinn had never been far from her thoughts since she had stormed out of his truck. She was still angry with him but she was beginning to regret the way she had verbally attacked him and never really given him the benefit of the doubt. She remembered how pasty and shattered he had looked, so alone sitting there in his big truck. She was beginning to think that she had not been altogether fair to him, that when he had really needed someone she hadn't been there. She also knew what Rob said would be true, Quinn would be devastated at failing the assessment.
Over the previous nine months, what there was between them had changed and not for the better, the fragile flicker of love had struggled to grow into a greater flame, being overtaken by too many other things. Too much had come between them, Carrie had intentionally taken a step back, when his condition had improved, to spend much needed time with Franny. Quinn's physical state and then his single minded commitment to getting back to fitness had seen him unable to concentrate on anything else. She had supported him as best she could and as much as he appeared to need but there had been no time or apparent inclination for further sexual intimacy bar of few quick hugs and pecks on the cheek. Their only consummated act remained the aggressive fuck following his return from Syria which had been completely unsatisfying for them both. Remembering what Quinn had said in his truck she was beginning to wonder if he had purposely distanced himself because he felt he was somehow not good enough for her. She shook her head sadly at such an insane thought.
Carrie had always imagined that it was only a matter of time that eventually, when he was fit enough, he would come to her and they would make good love. Carrying this belief deep inside she had done something she had never done before for a lover; she had pushed her impetuosity away and waited for him.
However, since this latest turn of events, the argument it had lead to, and Quinn going as dark as he ever had on any mission, she had begun to question once again whether they were really right for each other. The return of an old flame in Sammi Bakri, had also caused her to re-evaluate the situation.
Now Carrie saw that it had taken the intervention of this candid but surprisingly caring black ops guy for her to understand that whatever the final outcome was going to be, she really needed to talk to Quinn for both their sakes.
"I understand," she said. "So tell me about your proposal, Rob."
Bakri regarded her critically when she returned the office. "I was just about to send out a search party," he began, "Or at least dock your wages for unauthorised absence."
"You're all heart, Sammi," she shot back.
"In my experience you can't be too careful around black ops guys. What did he want anyway?"
"None of your business."
"Was it about Peter Quinn by any chance?"
Carrie had been about to push passed him but she stopped, her eyebrows rising. "Who?"
Bakri let out a chuckle. "Carrie Mathison playing the innocent, I don't think so. You two have been the talk of Langley for months after what happened with Dar Adal. They're even running a book in HR, as to when he's going to walk you down the aisle and when you're going to produce a little black ops operative. When one of his mates from the dark side turns up it has to be about him. I guess he's the complication you mentioned the other night." He shook his head sadly. "You can do a lot better Mathison. There's me for a start!"
"You know nothing, Sammi, so just shut the fuck up!"
His face creased with mock anguish at that. "Touchy subject eh? Don't tell me you're gonna blow me out tonight because of him."
Carrie' s stare was cold and hard. "As a matter of fact that is exactly what I am going to do."
"You wound me, Mathison, a knife to my heart, how can you be so cruel?" His tone was playful but Carrie saw something far less benign flash in his eyes.
"I'm sure you'll cope. I bet there are hundreds of other ladies eager to take my place."
He nodded. "Thousands I expect but this isn't over Carrie, I won't give you up, not to the dark side so easily."
She snorted. "Go play with your light sabre, Sammi!" She made to move away but he reached out a hand to stop her, all of his feigned lightness of seconds before vanishing into seriousness. "You finished that spreadsheet for me yet?" he asked.
She shook him off. "Almost."
When she got back to her desk she sent a text. it read, "Max, fucking hurry up with it, I need to give it to Bakri!"