4.6.1
Carrie walks into the embassy, head full of plans, possibilities. Aayan's gone to get his things from the university so she has until he gets back to arrange his 'kidnapping'. The perfect play for this situation - send a man to be obvious and watch him at the university, get Aayan nervous. Then set it up so he 'escapes' from the apartment, hopefully leads them to Haqqani.
It's a good plan and she just needs to dial in the logistics, get a team ready to go. Heads towards Quinn's office - wants him on the job so it goes as planned, no mistakes. Only briefly thinks about their encounter the previous day, remembers how pissy he was. But now she feels more than a bit justified, vindicated. Once she sets Aayan free they will follow him right to their target. And then Quinn and everyone else will just have to swallow their opinions in the face of her results.
So that's what Carrie thinks as she walks in to talk to him, tells herself to just get the mission done.
He's on the computer when she enters, a relief in itself. It's still somehow reassuring to see him there - which is annoying because she's still pissed off at him, doesn't want to admit to herself that she needs him.
"Good, you're here," she says as she walks in.
"I'm not the one who's never around," Quinn replies bitterly, glancing up at her briefly before looking away.
His little dart hits her dead on, reminds her that he knows exactly how to push her buttons. But she's fucking tired of his shit, does not need his snippy attitude while she gets things done, find Haqqani.
"Don't start, okay?" she says, already flustered. Wishes he could just be his reliable self without the petty comments, the confused moral compass.
At least he doesn't push it, seems to be listening as she starts in on what she needs.
"I've got something that may require logistical support. I'll need a small team. Three or four people, absolutely discrete," she explains.
"For what?" Quinn asks.
That's not something she's completely sure about yet, thinks there's still a couple ways it could play out. But if she sets it up right, the job should be easy. Send out some fake ISI agents, tell him they can't get out through Pakistan, then set him free, hopefully off to Haqqani.
"It involves Haqqani's nephew," she says.
"So I'm guessing clothing is optional," he replies, in his fuck you tone.
And the last thing she wants to deal with right now is Quinn's bullshit, his fucking judgements. How many people has he killed and he's going to tell her she's crossed the line? All she knows is he doesn't need to be making such a big fucking deal about it, doesn't need to be such a dick.
"What is your fucking problem?" she snaps in his face.
"My problem?" he fires back. "My problem is that a surveillance operation crashed and burned because you were nowhere to be found."
She thinks bullshit, Quinn. This isn't about the fucking surveillance. Well, it was, but not entirely. She can see the disgust in his eyes, his disdain for her recruitment methods. And if she's truthful with herself she isn't exactly thrilled to be playing this card once again, has to remind herself she had no other options with such a short amount of time.
Yet, as always, Carrie got what she needed in the allotted two days. So fuck Quinn and his fucking assassin's morality code, she thinks. She doesn't have time for his bullshit. She has a job to do and he can either get on board or fucking step out of the way.
"Really, I seem to recall you showing up at my doorstep," she replies sarcastically.
Quinn doesn't reply for a moment, just gives her that deadened pissed off look.
"Fine," he finally says icily. "Whatever you say, Carrie. You're the boss."
Each one of his words freezes with coldness, and Carrie suddenly realizes she can't be around him at the moment. She needs to just get this done, see it through and get the result. And it's not going to happen with Quinn getting in the fucking way at every step, questioning her every move.
"You know what, forget it," she says, turning and heading out the door. "I'm going go find someone who's actually willing to do their job."
Carrie walks out of Quinn's office, thankful to be away from fucking attitude. She can't remember the last time things were so tense between them, maybe not since just after he showed up in her life, when she still thought he was an arrogant asshole.
Not that she didn't still think that. It was just somehow he had become her arrogant asshole, someone actually on her side. Well, until Kabul. And now Islamabad. Carrie's not sure whose side he's on now but it's definitely not hers.
Which is bullshit because that's why she wanted him here in the first place - to have someone she can rely on, trust to have her back. And now she has an op to make happen, needs to pull a team together from the rest of her staff.
Carrie pauses, stops to take a second to think. Realizes she's been going to Quinn for this sort of thing for so long she doesn't have a back up plan.
For fucks sake, she thinks to herself.
Looks up to see John Redmond leave the staffroom, walk towards his office. Not exactly her first choice but he is deputy chief, might actually have some uses.
"You got a second?" she asks.
Redmond nods towards his office and Carrie walks down the hall, thankful at having a new option appear but still tense, irritated at Quinn. Tries to put him out of mind but stops for a moment before she enters Redmond's office, looks back to give him a mental fuck you.
#
Quinn's walking down the hallway at the station, head down in a file when he feels a faint buzz in the air, looks up to see Carrie striding towards him.
She looks pissed off as usual, as if she's just come from another personal confrontation. What a surprise, Quinn thinks to himself. It's just her fucking effect on people.
He's about to just let her push by, doesn't want to deal with her shit after their battle that morning, doesn't want to admit to himself that he's pissed to be off the mission. Has to admit he didn't see that coming, even with the way he was pushing her. He never thought she would go to someone else, that he would ever push over that line.
But as Carrie tries to wordlessly shove by him, something bright catches his attention. Quinn turns his head sharply, sees the slow drip of blood from her nose, the slight red scuff under her eye.
At first he tells himself it's because she's so fucking pale, that he can't help but notice. Then tries to tell himself he doesn't care, that she's clearly fine enough to be running around pissing people off, possibly getting punched for it.
But all the rational thoughts, all the anger in the world can't make him keep walking, not care. Unconsciously, Quinn finds himself stopping, standing in her way. And, predictably, Carrie comes to a halt right up in his personal space, gives him her best what the fuck look.
What the fuck is right, he thinks to himself. He is a sucker for punishment, can't ever fucking do what he should. But it's done now, can't be undone.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asks brusquely.
Carrie scowls, tries to again push by him without answering.
And he almost lets her go, knows they both need their space at the moment. Quinn realizes he's not acting completely rationally, that he's more angry than he should be at what Carrie's been up to. And it's not exactly just because she fucked up the stakeout, wouldn't answer her phone. He just doesn't want to admit to himself why he's so upset with her, certainly can't say it to her.
But he's been about as blunt as possible, said what needed to be said. If she can't take it then that's her fucking problem, Quinn thinks to himself.
Yet now she's trying to walk by him, bleeding and angry and there's a fucking rise in his gut, a tenseness in his neck. He may feel like throttling her a million times in a day but she isn't going to get hurt on his watch - that much he still needs to ensure.
So he stands his ground, doesn't let her get by even though staffers are starting to notice.
"Let me go!" she hollers at him, clearly not giving a shit about making a scene.
"Tell me what happened," he counters steadily, trying to will her into calming the fuck down.
Of course she doesn't settle down, tries to walk by one more time. When that doesn't work she stands and shoots death rays at him as he reaches out, wipes the blood off her face with his hand.
It's as if Carrie didn't even notice she was bleeding even though it had run all the way from her nose down to her lips. But as soon as his fingers make contact with her skin she raises her hand to brush him off, holds an already bloody kleenex to her nose.
"I'm fine," she replies, with another fuck you look.
"I didn't ask if you were okay," Quinn mutters. "I asked what happened."
Carrie seethes for another moment and he thinks she's going to ask him what's it to you. The same as before, likely to get the same result. He will have to say nothing, make up some stupid sounding excuse. But he thinks they both know what it is to him, what she is to him. Not that it's definable, just that it's there.
"You know I'll just ask the guys and they'll fucking tell me," he adds when she doesn't say anything. "So just say it, Carrie."
She's clearly still extremely pissed at him, manages to stay angry for another thirty seconds before finally exhaling loudly, giving him a glare.
"Parvez hit me during the op. Wanted it to look realistic, " she finally snaps acidly. "It's nothing."
And it is nothing, should be nothing. Shit that happens when things start moving, especially when Carrie's involved. He should know, he's the one that had to shoot her.
But it takes every ounce of control he has not to flip out, demand to know where Parvez is, make a scene. He tells himself that if he'd been in control of the op, he wouldn't have let any of this shit go down, that Carrie's safety would have been priority number one.
Quinn knows he can't say any of the things that are coming to his mind. That he's upset, that he's sorry, that he flips out at the thought of her getting hurt. He's not even sure any of those things are true. But they feel really fucking true right now.
Yet here he is, stuck in the moment, Carrie pissed off at him again, How many of these scenes have they had, he wonders. How many are in their future.
"What the fuck!" he finally says, a bit louder than he intends to. "He must have hit you pretty hard."
Carrie gives him the impatient yeah, idiot look then ducks her head to avoid his gaze.
Quinn knows he should just let her go, that nothing good is going to come of this encounter. Carrie is pissed at him, for a fairly good reason even. And he's upset with her for so many reasons that his head feels like it's going to explode.
But her nose is still bloody, even though she's trying to hide it. And Quinn knows it hurts more than she will admit, that her head is probably throbbing.
And it doesn't matter that she disgusts him, that she needs more than a punch in the nose to wake her up to the situation. Just that morning he would have been glad to see her a bit bloody. still thinks she fucking deserves whatever she gets after everything that's happened. But now he pictures Parvez hitting her and feels an irrational, visceral anger.
Yet Quinn knows there's nothing to be done, that Carrie would flip her shit if he didn't let her go soon, that confronting Parvez would just piss her off even more. She's getting that look that says she's reached the end of her patience and he knows he's pushing it, is too far in her personal space, too close.
"I bet your head is killing you," he comments, a last try at connecting with her before letting her pass by.
He's surprised when Carrie turns her head, looks up at him. She still looks fucking irritable, anxious. But she's no longer fuming or trying to shove by him.
"Yeah," she finally admits with a scowl. "It's pretty fucking bad. But shit happens. And I have a op to run. Now will you fucking let me go?"
It still pisses him off that she's running something without him but he's not going to offer and he knows she's not going to ask. So they're just back where they started - at a standoff, neither side willing to back down.
And then there's nothing to do but to let her go then, nothing that will settle the burn in his chest, the roil in his gut. So Quinn finally stands aside, lets her step by and watches her walk away, her blood still staining his fingertips.
Carrie stalks down the hallway away from Quinn, head pulsating in time with her elevated heartbeat, wondering what the fuck that was all about. From his attitude that morning she figured Quinn would try to stay as far away from her as possible, at least for the time being. Obviously he didn't approve of what she was doing - not that it was his fucking place to tell her what to do. And she's been trying her best to convince herself that she doesn't actually care what he thinks of her, that she's not upset at his accusations.
But a little blood and he's immediately different, not so caught up in his disapproving act. Had somehow fallen back into his usual self - hard yet soft, with a mean protective streak. And it almost felt good, remembering what he's like when he's on her side, when he's not extremely mad at her. Quinn's always been very conscious of her and usually she likes that about him. He notices things in his cold quiet way.
Like the pain in her head. Maybe even the pain in her heart - the one she pretends not to know about.
The thing is, Carrie doesn't have time for any of this bullshit, has a job to do. And as much as she wants to put aside her pride and ask Quinn to come in on the op she knows she can't do it - especially not after he seemed so concerned about what happened that afternoon. It would be like admitting she needs him even though he's doing his best to piss her off. And that isn't something she's ready to do quite yet.
So she tries to put all thoughts about Quinn out of her head, just as she has the rest of the day. Aayan is on the loose and is hopefully about to lead them straight to Haqqani. Like usual, she's done her part, got the job done on a tight schedule. Which is more than she can say for Quinn, who seems to be too busy moralizing to do anything else.
Yet as she walks into the control room, Carrie still finds herself unfocused, off kilter. She tells herself it's just the headache, that it will pass once she throws back some ibuprofen and water. But she knows it's more than that, just doesn't admit it.
Because she can still feel a shade of his touch on her lip, remembers the unbidden shiver she felt at the base of her neck, her surprise at the gentleness of his action. And even though Carrie thinks he was overreacting, a part of her is thankful he noticed, that he didn't just blow right by.
But it's not something she is ready to admit to herself at the moment - needs to stay wrapped up in the heat of anger so she doesn't have to look at anything else other than the mission, doesn't have to think about anything except accomplishing her goals. And this thing with Quinn, she'll just have to resolve it another time, maybe when he's done being such a considerate asshole, maybe when she remembers how to feel.