Captain America: The Phoenix

23. Restless

But she put her phone away again, pocketing it, requesting cleaning services on the training room monitor before leaving to go upstairs. Personnel in uniform already begun making their morning rounds around HQ. She noticed receiving many polite 'good morning's, some with concerned stares at her face to go along with them. Not really sure about how she looked at that point, Quinn realized that her exhaustion and lack of sleep was probably evident in her face. She just hoped the team wouldn't bug her about it all day. Steve especially had a habit of being overly concerned with her sometimes.

Quinn went over to the west wing where the high-ranking agents' offices were and she waited in front of Hill's door. She was told that Hill wasn't in yet, but it didn't take much loitering until Hill appeared turning onto the hallway.

"Morning," Hill gave Quinn that same concerned stare. "You did sleep right?" The agent asked Quinn as she placed her hand upon the scanner, her office door sliding open accordingly. 

"Any updates?" Quinn asked as she followed Hill into the office.

"I haven't exactly checked yet, Agent," Hill said as she sat at her desk that faced a large wall-monitor. She signed in by typing across the large, high-tech keyboard.

Quinn leaned against the wall across from the monitor, staring up at it as Hill finished signing in and turned to look at her. She wore that overtly concerned gaze, still, seemingly examining Quinn's eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them. 

"Don't look at me like that, okay?" Quinn tried to say in the nicest, most patient way possible. She didn't like being scrutinized and pitied. "Look, I got lucky in D.R.--no civilian casualties. But the next time that goddamn mob comes after me, in a high-civilian-risk situation, we might not be so lucky."

Hill didn't drop her look of worry, brows still furrowed, arms crossed in front of her, but a layer of sympathy was added. She knew it couldn't have been easy being in Quinn's position, being so quickly launched into a career with such high pressure stakes. 

"If I want to stop them, I have to have some clues--just something that could help us figure out who this is."

"I get it, Quinn. I do." Hill softly told her, voice still firm. "I promise, if I get any leads at all, I'll let you know."

Quinn accepted this, nodding slowly. She tried to even give a thankful smile, but even that was difficult for her to force. Then she left the office and walked down the corridor, into the elevator. It was only then did she realize how crazy she must've seemed. Letting in a breath, then letting it go, she exited the elevator onto the residential floor and was ready to be met with her team.

She was surprised to see that no one was up yet. The common room kitchen was empty, which it usually never was at that time in the morning. At least Sam would be up, already flipping pancakes or whisking up some eggs or something. Then everyone would slowly file in one at a time, piling up their plates with breakfast.

Fearing that she'd knock right out if she sat down and poured herself a bowl of cereal, Quinn thought she would try to cook breakfast for everyone. Working off nothing but memory of how Sam did everything, she cracked about ten whole eggs into a bowl and whisked them up as much as she thought she needed to. Then she toasted a bunch of bread, scrambled the eggs, fried up some bacon--dropping a few strips on the ground in the process--and squeezing as many oranges it took to fill everyone's glass up to the top.

Knowing that pancakes would be way too complicated for her to even attempt, she stopped there and did the coffee last. As she did so, two sets of footsteps finally filed into the common room.

Steve and Sam were dressed casually that day, not a piece of training clothing in sight. Their conversation was halted, however, as they walked into the kitchen, seeing Quinn filling up a mug with coffee as well as the full breakfast spread on the table.