Chapter 33

Quinn's gaze drifts across the horizon, where the sun slowly sinks into the ocean, casting golden streaks across the water. Next to him, Lily lounges in a bright yellow bikini, absorbed in the latest Malcolm Gladwell book. He can almost imagine how she'll categorize it on their bookshelf when they get home—probably one of the "white cover" books—as opposed to by author's last name or in a (fictional) non-fiction section.

He smiles to himself, taking a sip of his beer, and looks back out over the water. It's quiet here, Dar was right about that. And true to Dar's word, no one has disturbed their peace; not a whisper from the outside world, no urgent calls from Langley, no high-stakes decisions to be made. It's been two weeks since Quinn has been out of pocket, and here, at this borrowed mansion on a remote Caribbean island—borrowed from someone Dar won't name—everything feels distant, almost like another world. The only thing that matters is that Lily is safe. Security is tight here, and Dar's taking no chances while they figure out what went wrong in Tel Aviv.

Quinn glances over at Lily, and when their eyes meet, she smiles, the warmth in her gaze pulling him back from his thoughts. "What?" she murmurs, her voice soft and affectionate.

"I'm just thinking," a playful grin tugging at his lips, "maybe we could stay here forever."

Lily arches an eyebrow, folding the corner of her page and setting her books aside. She swings her legs off her chaise lounge and sits up. "Really? Here?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Quinn shrugs, the idea seeming to make sense the longer he thinks about it.

Lily picks up her wine glass from the side table, taking a slow sip before responding. "Well, for one, because Langley doesn't have a field office here."

"Fuck Langley," Quinn mutters.

Lily raises an eyebrow, smirking. "I think that's my line."

"Seriously, though," Quinn pressed. "What if we just... left everything behind?"

She laughs lightly, shaking her head. "Come on, Quinn. Be serious."

"I am serious."

Lily gives him a playful, skeptical look. "You? Leaving the CIA behind? I don't think so," she settles back into her lounger.

Quinn's smile fades just a little, his expression turning more thoughtful. "Why not?"

"Because it's who you are," she says softly, her tone gentle but firm. She picks up her book again.

He watches her for a moment, his voice dropping. "Maybe I want to be someone else."

Lily pauses, then closes her book again, giving him a measured look. "Two weeks away from work and you're ready to hang it up?"

He shrugs, his expression a little more serious. "Maybe."

Lily sighs, setting her book aside completely now. She looks at him, her voice soft but firm. "No. You're not thinking clearly... This—" she gestures around them—"is beautiful; but it's not a life. We have a life—back home. Remember that house that we, like, just bought? And the tech company whose stock funds our lavish wine collection?" she teases. "I have to show up there occasionally for them to pay me."

Quinn exhales deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just think about it for a second, Lil. I've saved so much money over the years; between years of hazard pay and free housing—"

"If a mudhole in Syria constitutes housing—"

"And with the money you've made at YouGo, we could really do it."

Lily shakes her head, smiling gently but firmly. "No, we couldn't. You'd be miserable living like this forever. So would I. You're thinking this way because... because of what happened. It's a reaction, not a life plan. We can't just run away forever."

Quinn frowns. "I don't know how I can just go back... to that life. How I can keep you safe in that life."

"Staying on some island—surrounded by guards—for the rest of our lives... it's not reasonable."

"Tell me what we should do, then."

"Accept that there's some risk, and live with it. Like we did before."

"Before? I can't go back to before. Not anymore."

Lily narrows her eyes. "Well, in two weeks, we'll have to. You think Dar and Saul will just let you walk away?"

Quinn sighs and runs his fingers down his bare chest absently. "No."

Lily rises and climbs on top of him, straddling his lap. "I know you're worried about me, and I love you for it," she murmurs leaning over him and kissing his lips softly. "But you can't protect me from life. You know?"

He takes a deep breath, meeting her gaze. "I want to," he murmurs, lifting his head up to recapture her lips. He gives her a long, probing, deep kiss.

When she finally pulls away, she meets his eyes; they are full of love. "If this experience taught me anything," she whispers, "it's—"

"Don't go out for wine when I tell you to stay in the hotel?" Quinn tries to introduce some levity to the heaviness of the moment.

"No," Lily laughs and pokes him.

"Don't travel with me to any more war zones?"

"No," Lily glares at him, but her lips are curling into a smile.

Quinn chuckles. "What?" he reaches up and tousles her hair. "What has it taught you?" he mimics her teasingly.

"It taught me that whatever happens, I shouldn't take anything for granted. Live every day like... I don't know, carpe diem," she laughs.

"Dead Poets Society feels like the wrong analogy here," Quinn teases, raising an eyebrow.

Lily pokes him again. "You need to develop more of an appreciation for my favorite movies, buddy." She grins at him and kisses his nose.

"I've fallen asleep at least twice to Love Actually," Quinn grins, "so if that doesn't count for something, I'm not sure what does."

Lily chuckles and kisses him again, her lips lingering against his. When she pulls away, her fingers trail slowly down his muscular chest. "Anyway. Back to my point: I'm alive," she says softly, her smile growing. "Despite everything, I'm alive. And I'm happy. And I have a great job and I'm sitting here in the Caribbean and I'm engaged to..." she traces her fingers lower, down his taut stomach to the thin line of hair that leads to one of her favorite parts of his body, "the hottest CIA agent on the planet," she punctuates her words with kisses down his bare torso.

"You haven't met all the agents," Quinn grins, but his voice is strained as Lily's touch distracts him.

"Mmm," Lily kisses him on the lips. "I've met enough. And you... you are beautiful. And I'm not going to you for granted."

"What about when I'm old and fat and bald?"

"Ouch. Old and bald, I can handle. But fat?" she scrunches up her nose and runs her fingers appreciatively back up over his six-pack.

He tickles her and she shrieks. "Fine, fine," she concedes, breathlessly, "I will never take you for granted, even if you get really ginormous and I have to tell you to put a shirt on—"

He starts tickling her again, and then throws his arms around her, reaching up to kiss her lips again, deepening his kiss as he slowly unties the strings of her bikini top.

"Quinn," Lily mumbles, her lips still pressed to his. "We're outside."

"No one can see us," Quinn grins at her, pulling the top off her arms and cupping her naked breasts delicately. He starts kissing his way down her neck. "Except maybe the seagulls," he adds in between kisses.

"What about the security guys? What if someone wanders back here?" her tone loses its force, though, as Quinn distracts her with his hands, which are now roaming down gently down her body.

"Then I think," Quinn murmurs as he kisses her again, "that they're going to see us having sex."

Her laughter is muffled by their mouths pressing together and... other things. For this moment, there's no need of words. They're content in each other's arms, in this quiet, private space they've carved out for themselves.

The world may still be out there, but here—in this moment—it's just the two of them.