A/N: So I'm going to stop making deadlines for my writing lol. It will just be complete when it says complete.
Thanks a lot Indigo for the encouragement. I'll start my Fax(that's what I'm calling them now) story soon.
"Quinn! Quinn where are you?" Carrie screams bursting into his apartment.
She shouts his name over and over and searches, but it's just her and her echo.
She has stopped by her place to get something else to wear to tackle the heat, really wanting him to know she's not afraid anymore. He'll feel differently and will change his mind about leaving to fulfill the mission. Unless he hasn't already changed it having pulled off what he did today. She's willing to wait for him anyways after he seems to be no where. There was no way he was going to leave.
The search for the vodka is annoying. Why would he take it out of the freezer? Unwinding after a rather good day, she's up to hit the bottle early. A well deserved celebration or whatever it is. On top of that, it's only a few degrees cooler than it had been the day before. She 's brought her wine too, but the vodka sounds better at this point to in order get drunk faster.
Behind the couch is where she finally spots it and it's still as full as how it was left the night before, half empty. She drops 2 single ice cubes in the half full tumbler glass and quickly guzzles it down with her lithium. Before it sets in, paranoia begins to erupt when he doesn't show. Has he already left?
After a couple hours she convinces herself that he is gone and that his last task was his way of leaving her with an advantage. Carrie wishes that the vodka would just do it's job after 5 glasses and keep her mind from wandering as it had the night before. The alcohol has just been recently starting to take less and less affect due to the countless nights of indulging in the necessary beverage, and she was quickly building a staggering tolerance. As her mind begins to drift into the unwanted territory that she had for so long ignored and she begins to sweat , he enters the apartment.
"What are you doing here Carrie?" He asks her calmly, knowing why she was.
"I thought you left!" She shouts rises from the sofa.
"I already told you I'm leaving tomorrow," he says maintaining his tone. "Have you been drinking?"
He immediately begins to remove layers and neatly stacks them in a pile near the door, which does nothing to prove that he'll stay.
"Quinn what you did today...," she changes her frantic voice.
"What?"
"He... he changed his mind. He's back on board. YOU did this Quinn. YOU made this happen," she praises him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he resumes packing.
She sets down her glass, adamant about making him reveal the truth. Placing her hand on the bag he is lifting, she soon begins to irritate him.
"Quinn he trusts you. I don't know why he listens to you, but he does. I need you to help me... please."
He ignores her pleading and flashes his plane ticket. Huffing and figuring out what to say, she tries her best not to look agitated.
"We almost have our guy Quinn... Quinn? What do you even plan on doing back there?"
"By back there, you mean home?" He says only answering her last question.
She rolls her eyes.
"Why do you care about my plans? The only plan I have is to get away from here and be a real person." He says.
"Be a real person?" She says utterly confused. "A real person doesn't just quit their job!"
He wants to say so many things to this, but won't let himself. In fact despite the past 24 hours she's acted more human now than she has the past few months.
"Do whatever you want Carrie," he's now annoyed.
She pulls his face away from his task forcing him to stop packing.
"What I want is to finish what I started. Do my job. We are not fucking finished!"
With a sight bit of force, he pulls her hand off of his face and grabs on tightly while he speaks.
"YOU are not finished! Do it without me," he makes clear.
His grip is strong, but loose enough to where she can release from it. She bitterly leaves his side to grab another drink and returns with one for him.
"What the fuck is that?" He eyes up the drink.
She decides alcohol might help.
"Well I'd rather not drink alone, since you're here and all," she responds staring at the ceiling.
"I don't want it. Thanks."
Her last ditch efforts are accomplishing nothing and she snaps.
"Jesus fucking Christ Quinn you're really fucking leaving! How fucked up is that!?"
"Not as fucked up as you leaving your daughter," he snaps back.
Her hand hits his face with much more force than the playful slap the last time. He knew he hit his first target and he's not finished yet, but has no idea what it will render. It's not the most conventional way to say 'I love you and I can't see you like this, so I'm going to say all these things to you and leave you because I can't say how I really feel', but it's a start.
"Fuck you! Who the fuck are you to say that to me!"
"Do you tell yourself that sending money is the best thing you can do for her!? Or do you just not give a fuck that she's basically an orphan," he continues on point.
He downs the drink she set in front of him in an instant, while watching her lip and chin begin to quiver.
"Oh and... and you treat that boy like he's already dead, even after you fucked him. How the fuck do you expect him to trust you? In fact you treat everyone like they're already gone! Does that make it easier for you? Not caring if he dies?"
"Quinn! Fucking don't!" she shrieks wanting him to stop right now.
"And Saul? Why the fuck can't he help you? Oh maybe because you don't want to have to tell everybody how you've really been 'maintaining' your assets. I don't want that shit on me."
"Goddamnit stop it!" She lunges at him again smacking him even harder. He's not lying and it sounds ugly. Ugly coming from someone else out loud because it is her reality.
This time he's had enough of it and when she turns around, he smacks her where he can reach her hitting her right in the ass. Even more furious, she immediately turns around to scold him.
"Did you just fucking spank me?"
He can't believe he even did it, but he was getting sick of her hitting him for saying what he thinks no matter how aggressive it was, it's all true. Something in the way she asks him though, makes him smirk for a second before frowning again.
"Yeah, I did," he says moving towards her.
Carrie pushes past him and immediately leaves the apartment in tears, which begin to form before she even walks out the door. His words sting like a fucking sunburn, just like the one forming on her face as she lights a cigarette outside. She's realizing there's a reason why he did it though. She knows deep down that Quinn actually gives a fuck about her which is exactly why she needs him around to survive.
As she takes the final few drags of her cigarette, it occurs to that her game is not over. Although her advances were denied the previous night, she's still not willing to give up this soon. Quinn was just as much of an asset as her actual assets and she refuses to see him leave. The way she was doing it was just all wrong. With a new found confidence, she heads back upstairs.
He reluctantly lets her in just waiting for another argument, but he knows it's mostly the booze. He'd rather her sober up in his company. For some reason though, her attitude has changed drastically.
"I'm sorry," she states.
"Don't be sorry to me."
She paces for a moment before revealing her 'plans' to him.
"Fine you win Quinn. I'll leave!"
"Bullshit!" He responds unaware to her motives.
"I'm not. I just booked a ticket when I was outside," she assures him while grabbing his hand playfully.
His pout turns into a smile, but he quickly remembers who he's dealing with.
"Carrie I don't-"
He is stopped in his tracks with her hand pushing on his chest, backing him right up into the chair behind him. She gracefully steadies her palms on his shoulders and and bends down to meet her lips with his to test the waters. Quinn's not resisting either and invites her onto his lap with his guiding hands. At this point he can't help himself only finding that he wants more.