Thank you

Virgil left at dusk because it was his bridge night and after much obvious but nevertheless non verbal messaging from him, Max suddenly developed a healthy interest in the game and decided he had to leave too. Which left Carrie and Quinn alone in the ops room.

Carrie sighed. "Well, doesn't this remind you of a different time, frightening déjà vu." She rolled her eyes.

They were sitting together in front of the screens, not quite as high tech as the official CIA equipment, but Virgil had done his best. On the screen they could see Bakri, lying on his bed, drinking a bottle of beer.

"You mean when we were Brody watching?" Quinn responded.

"Brody watching?" Carrie scoffed. "You make it sound like a fucking spectator sport."

"It was for some of us."

Carrie turned to look at him, wondering exactly what he meant and pondering the fact that their relationship was suddenly more intense than ever. It seemed so easy for him to provoke her and she could not resist the challenge. Would it always be this overwrought? She had to find a way to release some of the building pressure.

As if picking up her annoyance this time, however, he smiled tightly. "Greek or Indian?" he asked.

"Christ, you choose this time."

After they'd finished eating, and had coffee, he stood up, gathered up the mess and took it through to the kitchen area. To his surprise she followed. "Quinn," she began sounding uncharacteristically nervous as he turned to her expectantly, wiping his greasy hands on a towel. "I want to thank you," she continued.

"Thank me?"

"Yeah." Her voice was husky and her eyes veiled with what could only be described as rampant lust. "We've waited a long time for this."

She reached up and ran her sweet tasting fingers across his lips. Quinn was shocked at how quickly he felt his body shudder as her touch ignited a flame deep inside and passion roared through him. She pushed him against the kitchen wall behind him and he let out a gasp as his head hit hard. Before he could right himself she was in front of him, kneeling, fiddling with his fastening.

"Carrie" he gasped as the cold, liberating air hit his penis, which once released from constraint began to swell and throb wildly.

He wanted to protest, wanted to stop her but there was something terrifyingly alluring to be treated in such a masterful way; forced, overwhelmed, compelled to acquiesce. And then her warm, sweet mouth engulfed him and he was panting, sweating, his heart thumping in his chest. In seconds his cock was completely erect, hard and aching and Carrie smiled as she devoted herself to attending to him. For the briefest moment the thought came to Quinn that he should refuse her, move away, that this would change everything, that this was not the way he wanted this to happen, but it had been too long since he had been touched in such a blatantly provocative way. The walls that had guarded his unrequited passion for so long, tumbled quickly and irrevocably. The need to simply feel engulfed him and chased his logical thought away. All that mattered was the emotion that crashed through him.

He was moaning softly, pushing his head back against the wall behind him, bracing himself on it as his legs quivered and threatened to give way, running his hands through the soft hair on the head kneeling at his crotch as her hands reached up thrusting under his shirt, searching out his nipples, tweaking, pinching. As she tormented him with her teeth and tongue, he was borne along on the wave of passion. The power of intensely held feelings, kept unfulfilled for years and now viciously escaping, flashed through him and he gasped with sorrow and yearning and pleasure as Carrie swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. It felt like a matter of mere moments until he could feel his orgasm begin to roll from the depths of his soul. Her hands moved around his back, down across his buttocks, where they hovered for a second before she clutched hard and forced him to thrust forward, swallowing his ecstatic member.

He could not control the groan as he exploded into her mouth. He was falling, bursting forth, a vessel of nothing but feeling, intense and immense. She licked him clean then, as he struggled to remain standing, the aftershocks shuddering through him more violent then any orgasm he could remember.

She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Quinn." she said simply.

Still breathing hard he reached down and pulled her to her feet, embracing her tightly to his chest, smothering her face in passionate kisses. Already he could feel his desire returning. Not just a longing to take her physically, but a need to possess her bold spirit, her fiery soul. Startling words he had never spoken before suddenly tumbled out of his mouth. "I love you, Carrie," he whispered breathlessly. "Stay with me forever." He reached down took hold of her chin gently and raised her upwards until he could cover her mouth with his. He smelled of coffee and wanting and musky aftershave and the fuzzy stubble on his chin tickled her face as he kissed her, his lips soft and warm.

Carrie felt her legs go weak as a hot pulse began between them the like of which she hadn't felt in months. He teased his mouth across hers, languid, leisurely, deliberate kisses that set her pulse racing and left her gasping for breath when he pulled away. "Let me thank you too," he whispered, tracing his tongue along the line of her jaw to lick at her ear, making it difficult for her to think.

Feeling his arms encircle her waist Carrie relaxed and leaned into him, letting the hot pulsations from her crotch flow across her and merge with the tingling that was now playing along her lips where he kissed her. She met his kisses with enthusiasm, opening her mouth so that his tongue had easy access to hers as her hands crept up his back to scratch at him. Quinn gave a deep groan and lifted her from the floor. Slowly, lips and tongues still interlaced, he moved back into the ops room and deposited her gently onto one of the desks, grinding his crotch against hers so that she could feel the hard evidence of his reinvigorated arousal.

She ran her hands along his back and downwards to push his jeans and boxers to his ankles and clutch at muscular buttocks and thighs and then slid around and cup his balls, drawing a moan of approval. The hot mouth that had been pressed to hers now moved down, nibbling softly at her neck before finding her nipple, already taut and aching. Carrie gave a little mew of delight when Quinn sucked in the small nub of flesh and teased it with his tongue through her shirt. His thumb and fingers roused the other nipple with little pinches and Carrie couldn't help but wriggle her hips and arch her back upwards and away from the cold, hard desk top in an effort to press against him. She was quick and willing and he gave a little groan of appreciation.

When her hand moved up from his balls to stroke along the rigid pole of muscle it found there, erect once more so soon, Quinn gave another desperate groan. "Yes," he hissed into her ear. "Yes!" Her touch seemed to have driven him past some point of rational thought, for he suddenly took her thighs and pushed them apart, his cock searching for her entrance. When he found it he plunged in without reservation, finding her soaked and more than ready. Carrie squeaked as he filled her, throwing her hands back, pushing all of Max's neatly stacked piles of paperwork on to the floor and clutching at the desk, her nails grating its surface as he pulled back and then buried his length in her again. In moments he had found his rhythm and was thrusting with hard, forceful strokes, each one sending a flash of pleasure through Carrie so exquisite she could barely think, could only react, her little shrieks matching each of his movements.

Hard fingers gripped Carrie's shoulders and she answered the gesture with her own, reaching around to grasp and claw at Quinn's back, feeling the smooth material of his shirt fold and crease under her nails, pushing it up and away so she could feel his slick sweaty skin. Lifting her legs she locked her ankles around the small of his back and she felt him tense and speed up just a little. His long strokes became shorter, harder, each one thumping up against her clitoris, until he gave a short, breathy groan and slammed into her one last time.

Carrie felt him vibrating as he spurted inside her and she wiggled beneath him. "Don't stop!" Her eyes tightly shut, her voice was fractured and desperate as she hovered perilously close to the edge, wanting, needing, him to take her over into the wonders beyond.

She heard him grunt softly and he began to move again, and she was so close it took only three or four hard thrusts and she was coming, the warm flush of her orgasm spreading across her body as she whimpered softly. Her vaginal muscles tightened and contracted and Quinn gasped in appreciation as his sensitive shaft was squeezed and stroked over and over.

Too soon, he stretched stiffly and pulled out, leaving her suddenly bereft even as the aftershocks rolled through her. She opened her eyes to see him bending to pull up his jeans, his face strangely brooding in the flickering light. She shivered as if a cold draft had hit her and sat up. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He stopped, looked at her with eyes that were at once filled with sincere yearning but also an unfathomable sadness. "It shouldn't have been this way. I shouldn't have..." His glance flicked around the room as he hesitated.

Feeling her hot sweat cooling on her skin, she reached out to him and he came back then, to hold her hands and kneel before her. "What do you mean?" she asked, fearing his reply.

"It shouldn't have been here," he said.

She shook her head. "No, here was exactly right."

"I wanted candles, soft music, wine, flowers... a bed." he muttered.

She reached across and ran her finger along his sharp jawline, cupping his face in her hands and staring deep in his blue eyes. "My god, Quinn," she chuckled in relief. "I never had you down as a romantic."

"It should be right," he said earnestly.

She pulled him up from his knees and closer and kissed him long and hard. "Next time," she said. "Next time we will have everything but this time was perfect, this time was right."

"Really?" He still sounded unconvinced. "There will be a next time?"

"Really." She lay back again pulling him down on top of her for a long sloppy kiss. They clung together for long moments, her hand reaching down between his legs again and then he pulled back. "I can't, not again, not yet," he disclosed apologetically.

She nodded. "I know, I just want to hold you close, never let you go."

He gulped at her admission, the flash of doubt still visible in his wide eyes. He took hold of her hand, began to kiss it and ran his lips up her arm, covering her pale smooth skin with kisses. As he reached her shoulder, he hesitated, his eyes caught by the image on the screen before them and she felt him stiffen.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What?" she asked, she bent her head backwards, arching her back until she could see the screens, her gaze following where his eyes stared. Although she was getting the picture upside down, it was obvious what was causing Quinn's consternation. Bakri's room was empty.

Quinn slid off her, and she pulled herself up, re-arranging her tangled clothes as she went. They both stared at the screens. "Where the fuck did he go?" Carrie asked using her hand to comb through her tangled hair nervously, her eyes flitting from one screen to the others but receiving the same message from all of them.

Quinn shook his head. "He's in the fucking wind."