"So Quinn will stay in my room, that way he can hear you in your room if there's an emergency," Eliot said, packing his bags. Ale sat on his bed, her legs criss-cross applesauce. Eliot hadn't stopped talking about the security measures and the different things in the house that Ale certainly knew about, like where the pots and pans were.
He couldn't stop, though, and he felt like he had to tell her everything he possibly could to ensure that she would be okay while he was gone. If that meant that he showed her how to use the popcorn maker that he had never even opened, so be it.
"Did you tell him about the nightmares? About what happened to me?" Ale asked suddenly, her voice just above a whisper. She was looking down at her folded hands, one of her fingers absently rubbing the scars on her opposite wrist.
Eliot had gone back and forth about telling Quinn everything. He didn't want him to pity Ale, and he wanted her to feel like she had some independence from what had happened. After all, anyone she was currently in contact with knew everything about her and saw everything that happened to her.
He knew what that was like. That's why he didn't tell the team everything he had gone through. It was much easier to be strong if you didn't have to see the pity in people's eyes, or the worry that you would break.
At the same time, he wanted Quinn to know what he was dealing with. If Eliot had the job that Quinn was going to have, being on protection detail, he would want to know what the mark was afraid of, what they had gone through, and why they were the way they were. It was just easier that way. You couldn't protect someone if you knew what you had to save them from every day. If you didn't know what haunted them, however, it was pretty difficult to keep the monsters from the closet.
He ended up telling Quinn everything, even sending over the tapes of Ale's torture. As custom, Hardison recorded everything his computer did and stored it on different disks. He was paranoid about losing information the team might need later. Because of that, Eliot had Hardison send Quinn Ale's entire background story—where she was born, anything that Lio had told the team, as well as the videos from her torture and the information from the con they pulled with the orphanage. When Quinn had finished going through the information, he immediately called Eliot, asking if it was a joke.
"I just don't understand how one girl could deal with all of this. This is more than some of our buddies have gone through, and she doesn't even have the training we do," Quinn had said, Eliot nodding over the phone.
"I know. That's why it's so important that you watch her. She has been through enough…she doesn't need to go through it all again," Eliot had explained.
He and Quinn had talked for another hour, Eliot telling him as much as he could remember Lio saying about Ale—which was everything. Her favorite foods, movies, flowers, songs.
Eliot explained how dedicated Ale was to helping people, and told him about Ale and the orphanage. The stuff that wasn't in the file…how Ale had run herself into the ground and how she preferred to suffer silently than aloud.
He had even told him about the nightmares, breaking down each and every one for him. He knew Ale was getting them less and less, but having a different routine or a different person around could change that. He knew that whenever he moved to a different city, or when he had a particular type of fistfight, his mind came back at him with the nightmares. He was hoping that Ale would be okay, though. He didn't want Quinn to have to help her through them.
That was his job, no matter how much he paid Quinn.
Ale waited for Eliot to answer her, not sure what she wanted to hear. She was hoping that she wouldn't have any nightmares while Eliot was gone, and she didn't want this new guy to have to deal with them if she did, but she also didn't want him coming in blind in case he heard her crying after a particularly bad one.
"I did tell him. He knows your history…when your mom died, when and how your dad died, your con on Buchamp, your kidnapping, and Lio's death. He knows you spent five months in Italy with the orphans, and he knows about that con, too. He won't try to talk to you about, it though. It's just what's necessary in this line of work. You have to know about your mark before you can protect them, or you don't end up protecting them in the right way," Eliot explained.
Ale nodded, glad she wouldn't have to explain anything to Quinn. She was a little disappointed, though, hoping that she could pretend to be okay, even for just five days.
Eliot could see that Ale was upset. He was cursing himself for telling Quinn. He should have asked Ale first.
"I'm sorry. I should have asked you first," Eliot sighed, Ale looking up at him with wide eyes.
"No, I'm not upset you told him. He has a right to know. I'm glad I didn't have to tell him. It's just…I was hoping that, you know, for just five days, I could pretend that that wasn't necessary for him to know. You know?" she asked, looking at Eliot hopefully, trying to get him to understand.
"I get it," Eliot nodded. "But you aren't broken, Ale. What happened to you doesn't define you. It's just who you are. And, like you said, it sucks, but it doesn't have to run your life."
Eliot's words struck a cord with Ale, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded. He was right.
"Thanks," she sighed, wiping her eyes. "So, do you have any other instructions for me?" Ale asked, putting on a smile. She wanted to change the subject, and Eliot's focus on telling Ale about the house seemed to be the perfect distraction.
As Eliot continued telling Ale everything she already knew, she watched him pack. He never hesitated or thought about what he needed. He just knew. She noticed he did that a lot. All of his actions were calculated and planned. He never missed a beat and he was never caught off guard by anything. It was admirable.
Once he finished telling Ale about the TV remotes and which remote did which function, she told him she was thirsty and slipped down to the kitchen. While she was pouring two glasses of lemonade there was a knock on the door, Eliot telling her that it was Quinn and that she could answer it.
Ale's heart leapt in her chest, but she wasn't sure why. She was nervous, for some reason—she wanted to make a good impression. This was, after all, a person she would be stuck with for the next five days. She didn't need him hating her.
When Ale opened the door, her heart started beating even more.
How could it not, when one of the most attractive men she had ever seen appeared on the other side, smiling at her as if she was the most important thing in the world?
"You must be Alessandra. I'm Quinn," he smiled, sticking out his hand.
"It's Ale, actually," Ale smiled, accepting his hand. It was huge compared to hers, but it didn't completely overwhelm Ale's. Quinn seemed careful not to hurt her.
"It's a beautiful name, either way," Quinn said, Ale stepping aside so he could enter the apartment. Just as she was about to ask Quinn if he would like anything to drink, Eliot came down the stairs, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and a small suitcase in his hand.
Eliot was quick to notice Ale's hand in Quinn's, also noticing the look in Quinn's eyes. He knew this was a bad idea, but Nate had convinced him that it would be fine. Quinn had a horrible habit of falling for his marks, though, and he was an incessant lady's man. He was a good guy, though, and Eliot knew he was the best person for the job.
Across town, Sophie was waiting for Nate to finish packing, sitting in the living room, reading a magazine. She looked at the clock, knowing that Quinn would be arriving at Eliot's house soon, if he wasn't already there.
When Nate had told Sophie who was watching Ale she was more than pleased. She knew that Quinn would fall for Ale—there was no doubt about it. Any man that Ale met liked her in some way. She could have any man she wanted, which was why Sophie was so eager for her to start grifting. She also knew that Quinn wouldn't feel like he couldn't like Ale…he would be honest with her and tell her the truth instead of hiding his feelings behind his work, like a certain hitter did.
If Quinn and Ale had any sort of relationship, Sophie knew it would drive Eliot crazy. She also knew that it wouldn't work out in the long run, because Ale and Eliot were meant to be together—she was sure of it. But Sophie figured that if Eliot saw Quinn doing something as easy as telling Ale the truth, Eliot would be convinced to do the same and he could be with Ale like he wanted.
Sure, it was a bit middle school, but if the shoe fit, why not buy two pairs?
Ale felt the shift in the room as soon as Eliot came down the stairs, Quinn taking his hand away from hers, Eliot putting his bags by the door next to Quinn's similar luggage.
"Thanks again for doing this," Eliot said, shaking Quinn's hand.
"My pleasure. A jobs a job," Quinn shrugged, Eliot nodding.
"Well, Ale, I'm out of here. Are you sure you'll be okay?" Eliot asked softly, looking at her.
"I'm sure. Remember what we talked about," Ale stated, Eliot nodding.
"I will, darlin'," he smiled, picking up his bags.
"Be careful, please," Ale said, opening the door for Eliot. He laughed, throwing a wink her way.
Once Ale closed the door, she wasn't sure what to do. She didn't know if Quinn would want to go for a run or watch TV or read. She didn't have any clue how to entertain him. Then again, he wasn't a house guest. He was her body guard, and he didn't have to be entertained. This was his job, not his life, like it was Eliot's. Eliot had to protect her while living his life…Quinn put his life on pause to do his job.
"Would you like a glass of lemonade?" Ale asked, looking at Quinn. He smiled, his dimples appearing on either side of his mouth. Ale smiled at the sight, blushing a bit.
Quinn reminded Ale of Eliot, but there was something different about him. He seemed…brighter than Eliot. Quinn's hair was bonder and he wore it in a ponytail at the base of his neck, the front part of his hair slipping from the elastic, being tucked loosely behind his ears.
It made him seem…breezy.
"I would love some," Quinn answered, Ale leading him to the kitchen. Quinn sat down at the island, Ale handing him a glass of lemonade. It was her special mix, using mint leaves as well as a bit of strawberry juice to give the lemonade a little something extra.
They both sipped on their lemonade, Ale taking in Quinn's appearance. He wore dark jeans and a dress shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. The shirt was loose fitting but was rolled up to his elbows and, when Quinn twisted a certain way, highlighted the muscles beneath the shirt.
"So, what do you want to do?" Quinn asked, snapping Ale out of her trance.
"Well, usually Eliot and I go for a run in the mornings, cook breakfast, get ready for the day and go to Nate's. After that we read or watch movies or go to the garage where he keeps his cars and he works on them while I read or listen to music," Ale shrugged, not knowing how to answer.
"And do you want to do any of that stuff?" Quinn asked, Ale thinking about it.
"Not really."
"I'm guessing your day kind of revolves around Eliot's schedule?" Quinn said, Ale nodding. "I kind of figured. It's hard when you have to live your life as a part of the job. I am here, though, in a completely different position. We do whatever you want to do, together, or you can do it alone and I will stand in a corner and read a book while you go about your business. As long as I can see you, my job is being handled. You have a lot more freedom with me because watching you is literally all I have to do. For five days," Quinn said, smiling. He didn't seem upset that he was babysitting. He made it seem like a fun adventure, and Ale was extremely excited that she could do something with her time—not that she didn't like hanging with Eliot and the team.
It was just…she had already lost sight of the person she was before her parents died, and she didn't want to completely forget about it just so Eliot could watch her.
"There are a few things I have been meaning to do," Ale smiled, taking Quinn's now empty glass.
"Well, let's get to it," he smiled, Ale smiling back.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.