**Please pay little attention to the past/present tense faux pas – I’m not Hemingway after all… 😉
He had 24 hours. Nazir was dead and he had 24 hrs. to
himself. Estes had given Quinn some time before “Operation Brody” was back in
effect. He had a whole day and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
That morning Quinn slept. He woke up at 10:00am and couldn’t remember the last
time he slept that late.
The only thing he had planned that day was to replace the
Sports-coat he lent Carrie. He wasn’t about to ask for it back. His afternoon
melted away. Later that night, after ignoring yet another text from Allie,
Quinn decided to go out for a drink. He never went out by himself
but having had little or no contact with anyone outside of the CIA within the
past few months, tonight he felt it necessary.
With no intention, other than to prove himself a human
member of society, Quinn left his apartment. There was a little dive bar off
237 that he would frequent but tonight, Quinn decided to visit a nicer
establishment. It was a cocktail bar, not usually his speed but as he
walked in, it was more relaxed than he anticipated, as was he. He ditched his
dull fatigue button down for a navy crewneck sweater and darker pants. The
lighting was quiet, the music was soft. He ordered a drink and then looked
He saw her sitting at the bar, and he never, well hardly
ever, just went up to women in bars. She sat alone, or at least he thought she
was alone. He watched her for a minute or two, saying goodnight to her girlfriend
who left, then turned and proceeded to nurse her drink solo. She didn’t seem to
be in any rush and appeared to enjoy the solace and the last sips of her drink.
Her shiny hair cascaded well over her shoulders and she had a sweet, heart
shaped face and pretty, warm smile. Quinn, from walking behind her, noticed her
small waist which melted into a beautiful round bottom perched on the bar
stool. There was something about her that made him think “this may be worth it”.
Quinn saw a small space between this woman and the other
stool and moved to stand by it. She had no choice but to look up at him. When Peter
Quinn stands by you, you look up.
Quinn narrowed his eyes at her and saw her face was sweeter
than he first thought. “Hi”, Quinn murmured
to her. She focused her eyes up and noticed his face, She appeared to be taken
aback. “Hi” she whispered back. “What do you want?” Quinn asked. “Excuse me?”, she replied with a skeptical smile. “A drink”, Quinn asked again, “I’d like to buy you a drink.” Her
eyebrows lighten and she smiled slightly at his awkwardness. “Oh, ok…”, she nodded with a shared
understanding of what’s happening. “Maybe
a Margarita?”, she smirked
at him as Quinn handed her the bar list. She could feel his eyes on her as she
read, she looked up at him and smiled, they looked at each other for a little
longer than two people would, they almost seemed to be soaking each other in.
Her name was
Bridget. She ordered a drink and they talked. About nothing really but Quinn
found out why she was there, a friend’s birthday, and why she was still out,
because she rarely went out so she figured to make it worth her while. “What are you drinking?”, she asked Quinn
noticing a drink already in his hand. “A
Sazerac… some bougie cocktail”, he answered with a smile. “What’s in it?” she asked with curiosity,
as if the drink would reveal something of the man. ” Rye whiskey, some sugar, lemon peel and bitters I think…” Quinn
replied realizing that he was a little nervous. “Ooohh that is bougie”, she looked at him with some side eye, Quinn
smiled at her comment and she continued, “I
thought it was a shot at first, your hands are so big that when you hold that
glass it looks really tiny.”
He grinned at her
comment. This is flirting, he thought. It didn’t come natural to him but it was
nice to flirt with someone who wasn’t a senior citizen working at a donut shop.
Bridget, now margarita in hand, raised her glass to his to cheers. “I’ve had this margarita before, it’s good”,
she took a sip and looked up towards him.
“Would you say the best one you’ve ever had?”, Quinn asked her. “Uh…no, maybe… I’m trying to think…”,
she stumbled over his question with a smile. “Well I know where to find the best margarita…”, Quinn
boasted with a smirk. “Ok”, she
entertained him, “Where is that?”
“Well”, Quinn explained, “We’d have to
go to Mexico. Rosarito, Mexico. They put controy in it; it’s orange liquor,
lime juice shaken on the rocks, pretty tasty.”, she narrowed her eyes at
him “Well that sounds really good”,
at that point she began to look him up and down.
“I’ll have to see when the next flight leaves”. Quinn’s own flirting game surprised him.
He’d been out of it for a long time and was pleased he still seemed to have
some semblance of charm. “Well I’m game”,
she smiled back at him. They clinked their glasses together and looked at each
other as they sipped their drinks. Quinn
sat down in the empty stool next to her, and after all of 35 minutes of small
talk, and more flirting, accompanied by some light touching, Quinn decided enough
time had gone by.
“Want to get out of
here?”, Quinn’s smile and gaze caused Bridget to exhale deeply. She looked at
him a bit surprised, but without any hesitance nodded and said “Yes. Now.” They smiled again at each
other and within minutes were off in a car back to her place.
She opened her front door and Quinn’s smile turned into a more
serious gaze. Then, with that same look of appreciation as before, they find
each other in a kiss. Her head is in his hands, they kiss now with a sloppy lust. Quinn
then pulls her head from his, they look at each other and she nods yes to him
and smiles. He quickly lifts her up around his waist, and she gasps. As she leans
in to kiss his neck, he looks around for the closest place to start. They go to
her sturdy kitchen table, he hastily sets her down and in a manic rush, it
Quinn reaches underneath her black dress and with urgency
takes off her underwear, at this same point she is unbuckling his belt, he
hitches up her dress and then quickly tears down his own pants and underwear,
he takes his hand and leads his dick into her with a warm, strong thrust, she
moans loudly in relief of his penetration. They stare each other in the eyes
and quickly smile, she gasps again, and he grunts. Her legs wrap around his
lower back and he pushes her knees up. Quinn drives swiftly and hard into her
and she holds on to the sides of the table as he does. They kept steady eye
contact as, like a rapid heartbeat, after just a few minutes or so, they
breathlessly come. They were both smiling while they softly laugh and kiss. “Shit”, Quinn whispered into her neck,
kissing her lightly there. She leans back to kiss him again, her tongue dipped
lightly into his mouth as his hands massaged her ass. They looked at each other
again. “I really don’t do stuff like this”,
she confessed with a small smile. “I
never do stuff like this”, Quinn backed away a bit from the table to pull
up his pants. “Peter, this was great, I
um…”, she tripped a bit over her own words. “I’m not staying, it’s och…” Quinn said this with kindness as he leaned
in to kiss her cheek, “I know you have a
boyfriend”, he told her with a nod. “I…What?”, she asked grimacing slightly. Quinn reassured her “I saw his shoes when we first came in, it’s OK”, he smirked towards her and she smiled back at him. “Well, it’s pretty complicated…”, she
added sliding off the table. Quinn reached around to hold her neck tenderly. “Oh trust me, I get complicated” he
said leaning in to kiss her once more.