Quinn wakes. The room is dark and quiet. He feels the softness of Carrie's body pressed up against his, her warmth seeping into him. One of his arms is draped around her small waist, the other is tucked under the pillow that their heads share. He glances over Carrie's shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. It's 5:46 am. Knowing their time was almost up, he takes a moment to take in everything around him, but mostly just the reality of Carrie curled up against him. Her back pressed up against his chest, her feet tangled with his, the sweet smell of her her hair. His lips gently graze her shoulder. Would he ever return to such a moment?

Quinn cautiously starts to slip from the bed, away from Carrie, and moves towards the pile of clothing on the floor. He is hoping he won't wake her just yet. She could use as much rest as possible, plus he honestly couldn't bear having to end this moment face to face with her.

"What's wrong?"

Quinn is startled by the sound of her voice. He turns from his seated position on the bed and glances down at her.

"Nothing.," he whispers. "I was just going to go shower and change. I didn't want to wake you."

Carrie reaches out for Quinn's hand and covers it with her own and looks up at him. He shifts a little closer as Carrie rises to a seated position next to him. She pulls the comforter around her chest and tucks some hair behind her ear, then looks at him and tries to speak. She clears her throat.

"I…" but she stops short, still unable to find the words to what she is feeling and wants to express.

Quinn watches her struggle, his eyes study her face. When the words don't come, he gently leans in to her and touches his forehead to her's. He closes his eyes and just breathes her in. Carrie shuts her eyes as well, hoping to herself that somehow Quinn understands the turmoil that she is feeling inside her. Hoping that maybe he feels the same fear she does, the fear of not fully understanding what tomorrow might look like. Hoping Quinn knows that she does not want to just let this go…let him go. But what other choice was there?

Their eyes open and they look at each other. Quinn's eyes are soft, kind, and say everything she could not. She smiles up at him as he gently caresses her cheek with his thumb. He then pulls away and stands. Carrie watches as he dresses. He turns one final time to her.

"You're meeting with the Ambassador and Lockhart at 1800 in the conference room. I'll be with the team in the command room."

Carrie nods in understanding. He was trying so hard to make things normal; trying to make the impossible and awkward shift from lover to agent.

"I'll come get you when the convoy arrives. We can brief each other in the car."

"Right…I'll see you there," she responds.

Quinn pauses.

"We got this, Carrie," he tries to reassure her.

He then turns and leaves the room. Carrie hears the click of her front door closing and suddenly everything feels empty again.

Pulling herself from bed, Carrie slowly makes her way to the bathroom and starts the shower. As the water warms, she takes a hard look at herself in the bathroom mirror. He was right, she tells herself. They needed to focus and do this. And then…what?

Carrie steps into the shower. The hot water streams down her body, soaking her hair and warming her muscles. Her mind was awake again, churning about the details of the day. Something wasn't sitting right with her. The whole exchange felt uneasy. Though she was confident in her team's ability to pull it off, it almost felt too too simple.

She turns off the shower, wraps herself in a towel and begins brushing out her wet hair. And in the smooth, repetitive strokes, she decides she needs Quinn to stay back…remain at the embassy during the exchange. Something was eating away at her - there was something else going on but she didn't know what. If Quinn stayed at the embassy, he might see something she could not. She knew he would hate this idea - hate not being able to look out for her and make sure she was safe but he was the only person she trusted to do this. The only other person who might see something and figure out what else was going on. His instincts were almost as good as hers and it was one of the reasons she trusted him more than anyone else. The thought warms her briefly.

With renewed drive and energy, Carrie dresses and readies herself for the day. Yes, they would get through this exchange, get Saul back, and damn it all to hell, get the fuck out of there. She would leave Haqqani and whatever he hell he was up to to the next station chief.

She grabs a banana and slice of bread from her kitchen, then scans her apartment one final time.

"We got this," she says confidently and heads for the door.