A/n: With a little bit of encouragement, I decided to continue this fic. The chapter title is centered around the everly brothers, all I have to do is dream.

It's 9:02 and he shakes just thinking about her, aches just thinking about touching her. The life he'd taken the day before is far out of his mind. Numbed senses to the world, all of it but her. Her ambiance somehow imbedded into his core. He's been all around the world and has never met a girl that can take the things that she's been through.

He had tried so hard to block her out so that he wouldn't lose his mind. Tried so bad to stop her immeasurable impact, but she's like a bruise that just won't heal. It's his lack of control with her that he both loves and loathes.

He fabricates reasons why she's not here. She's working late? She stopped at the store? Maybe she fell asleep? All a callous defense the swallow the harsh reality that she's not coming at all.

The whiskey tastes worse now that he's sure. Like shards of glass ripping him apart from the inside out. He just might have to vomit to stomach how pathetic this all really was, the way he waits.

Instead he pretends he's a fish and the bottle is his ocean. The only feasible way to block the pain he neglects so much. All the bullshit that he thought was bullshit that he spewed to her, and he's the one that didn't follow through. Her ocean's calm and he's only spoiled it, polluting the waters.

All that's left is the glass he poured for her - though it's a fairly small bottle. Her lips are suppose to be pressed to that glass, smiling while she's telling him what she's been up to. And all he has to do is sit and listen, mostly because he's got nothing to say. He knows how transparent he is to her like when she said yes. It was the yes that put this all to an end.

The minutes pass more and more frequently, and it's well past ten. Sleeping is not even an option because he knows he'll dream of her. Two beautiful eyes, a gorgeous pair of legs, her irresistible back; all the better to lay her down. To have her here all he'll have to dream. It's not enough.

His forehead hits the table as he drowns in his own puddle. This job that's slowly killing him somehow seems like the only escape. Just as the dream takes over, his core is shaken and he wakes.

A few days earlier

Carrie returned as if nothing happened, because in her mind it didn't. Just closing another chapter in her life that should have never been opened to begin with. It's even takes her awhile to fully remember the first time they met. What a fucking mouthy bastard he was - still is.

She enters the oasis of her fluent life, showering Stefan with kisses. His articulate hands are like blunt tools that guide her to the bed that they share. A guilt flows through her veins as she can help but think about what she'd done. The more they touch, the more she thinks about Quinn.

OooO

All the moments in her life and she'd never though the day would come. She'd been scared and terrified before, but never like that day. Franny's shallow - almost non-existent breaths - brought her to a pit of despair. The life literally being taken from the life who made it from the moon and back and brought her along the way.

It was Stefan who made it all better, who made everything go away. Stefan who saved her baby's life when the darkest hour hit on that night. She wasn't the only one thankful that he was the pediatrician on duty that night.

When everything is serine again he asks about her shoes, knowing for sure she's a runner. What were the odds that both of them favored running at Tiergartens. The thing he notices the most is that her finger is bare. It'd be nice to run with someone else for a change.

At first she couldn't believe that he could possibly want to go out with her; a single mom who was absolutely hysterical in the first few hours that they arrived. He's not even thirty, fresh out of residency, doesn't even look like he has the capability of growing facial hair given how fair he is; she just says no.

It was the follow up appointment that made her change her mind. His isolated eyes spoke and she knew the feeling. How could she forget? Consumed by a job that you love, but feening for a taste of the other side. Except he saves lives, innocent lives. If anyone deserved a little grace, it was Stefan. Everything after just kind of happens.

OooO

Her urgency to shower is overlooked and he follows her. It's one of his rare nights off and they were suppose to go to a trail they've never been to before, then come home and explore each other. So now that everything back to way it was and the water starts to feel warm they step in.

Though he's experienced, he's borderline submissive when it comes to her. This time she surrenders her arms to the tiles so that he can do what he wants. The way the hot droplets drip down her back, slowly running down are memorizing. It's not long before he guides himself in, rolling his hips while he holds onto hers.

Each thrust becomes more powerful, more skilled. One of his arms wraps around her to hold her in place. Their moans are mostly muffled in the rapid stream, but it's not Stefan that she's thinking about, It's Quinn.

When they come, he whispers I love you for the first time. What a slap in the face. Instead of saying it back she draws his mouth in, still unable to get him out of her head. How could things ever be the same?

His heart races the moment she comes into view, shocked that she was actually here. Now that she's here, he has no idea what's going to happen. Someone so small, yet so disarming.

"Come in."

She steps in seeing the obvious empty bottle on the table, wondering how much of it he's had tonight. Sitting in 'her' seat, she gladly sips the beverage that he provided for her. None of this was going to be easy.

He glances at the clock and she catches him, she can't tell if he's pissed or relieved - likely both. She doesn't feel the need to explain Franny's nebulizer or how the sitter was late. It would only surge his warped opinions.

Quinn settles himself against the counter, keeping his distance. Her disconcerting look is not exactly an invitation. Is this the dream? Is this as close as he could get?

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

She inhales as if it's the last thing she'll ever say to him. "I came here to tell you that this can't happen. It can't," her eyebrows even arch as she tells him.

Jesus. He thinks. Sounds like something Jessica Brody would say. How domestic did she really get?

Her eyes dart back and fourth between him and the glass as if he'd just say okay and this would all be over. He folds his strong arms, never changing his position. She can only envision what he could possibly do with them.

"You're still here," he says.

"I know that!" She snaps. It's simple, she should just leave him alone, but can't. He's like an animal that changes his shape whenever she's around

Quinn watches her throat as she gulps the whiskey. What he would to just lay her on the table and take her then and there.

The sound of her voice when she's angry is so thrilling, so alive. He wants to hear it over and over.

"Why don't you hate me?" He's instigating now.

"Fuck you Quinn."

Where was the mercy in this ordeal? Does it have a beginning or an end?

His cock twitches as she bites her bottom lip, letting the pebbles of the murky water settle.

It's hard to look at him, but even worse to not at all. His vulnerability almost endearing. Just fathoming the intensity of his being when the switch flips is stimulating. The only way for this to suffice was for him to be inside of her. Each others kryptonite.

She stands prompting him to get closer, to remove himself from the protection of their distance. All the brainwashing in him, yet right now she knows that she's the one and only thing on his mind. It's the carnal passion in his eyes, the eagerness.

He greedily takes his chance to tangle his tongue with hers, a well received collision. The slick saliva begins to web, twisting in each and every direction. Their clothes come off at a steady pace and he lays her on the couch with his hand behind her head.

With a foolish smile, he drapes her legs over his shoulders as he bends down to taste her sweetness. Twisting and flicking, his mouth positively grinding and his brain positively grinning, all while she's positively groaning. He doesn't bother hushing her powerful cries, they're welcomed.

As she squirms, her hands tighten around the back of his head as he plunges his tongue deeper. For a man who takes so often, he certainly knows how to give. When the tip of his finger grazes her clit she can take it no more, his whole universe is centered around pleasuring her.

"Agh, agh. Yes, yes." She screams.

She comes and he tries to suck her dry, but can't. This wasn't over and neither of them want it to be.

He allows her a few proper breaths, her legs still over his shoulders. Carefully placing his head to the lips of her wetness, he soon dives in sliding in and out even faster than the time before. She can actual feel her back scraping against the leather sofa as they're merged to each other. Wound-up and lost inside himself, it cusps here and now, he's completely letting go.

She gasps as if she had been underwater and just emerged. wanting so badly to touch him, but can't, so the decibels becomes louder. He's the only one that can make her completely lose her mind like this.

Already knowing she's going to be sore, she pushes with him in the final seconds completely penetrated, totally immersed. His hips slam at just the right spot and she tightens around him. The spasms begin around his throbbing cock, coming for him once more. He spills his seed into her continuing to fuck her until his knees buckle and he's out of breath, absolute enthrallment.

Collapsing beside her, she molds to his shape, finally able to touch him. She traces her fingers across his chest, studying his skin. Somehow she becomes so comfortable that her eyes shut, her day seized by his touch.

A few hours pass and she wakes nearly forgetting where she is. She was sure to memorize the floor earlier on. The possibility of leaving without being detected seems slim. She blindly slips on her clothes knowing that his eyes were probably open, watching her in the night. What other way could she leave?

He looses the last bit of light as she shuts the door behind her. There's no blame to give, of course she couldn't stay. The only way he could possibly get her to stay is by closing his eyes once more. All he'll have to do is dream.