The rest of the party went on as parties normally would. With all of the new thoughts racing through her brain, Quinn found the fireworks display quite underwhelming. She'd watched it on the balcony, with Nat and Wanda for just a few minutes, before walking back over to the bar for another drink.
Steve stayed out on a quieter, less populated area of the balcony, not really paying attention to the fireworks that everyone else was reveling at. He stood, leaning against the railing as he stared out over the city. This time, he could hear the sounds of the streets, alongside the music from inside and the explosions from above. It didn't really help him figure out his dilemma. He wasn't sure how to tell Quinn how he felt about her.
Before that evening, he wasn't really sure what he felt. At that point, he knew. He just had to tell her.
After the fireworks finished, however, Steve was caught up with the people lining up to bid him goodbye and happy birthday and as much as he searched, he couldn't spot Quinn anywhere in the crowd. Not long after, however, nearly everyone was gone, the last few people filing out towards the elevator down.
Steve, amongst the last of the few out on the balcony, retreated back inside, his eyes scanning the room through the passing guests, finally spotting the figure in the deep navy dress. She stood with Wanda, talking with her in a most friendly and relaxed way--looking like she truly saw these people as friends. It was comforting for him to see.
Her phone seemed to ring, however, the low sound of her ringtone heard from across the room. She then excused herself from Wanda, turning and disappearing into the corridor that he'd once accompanied her to. He assumed it must've been some important call--he hoped nothing about work. Steve wanted her to have this evening, just until the sun came up in the morning, to not worry about a thing.
He let out a slightly concerned sigh, though as he had to wait a little while more until she got back from that call to talk to her.
"Alright, well, Stark forgot to call up his chopper to get us home, so we had to call in a quinjet," Sam appeared beside Steve from where he stood awkwardly staggered away from the bar. "You okay?" Sam rose a brow as he glanced at Steve, noticing this dazed look on the man's face.
"Yeah. Of course." Steve told him.
"Who's that from?" Sam curiously asked, referring to the red box still in Steve's hand.
Steve only then remembered that he'd been carrying it around the whole time. "Oh," he gave a short, sheepish chuckle, "it's from Quinn."
"Hm. How nice of her."
"Don't start."
Sam lowly chuckled.
Steve wasn't able to catch Quinn again, not until he had already boarded the quinjet and she walked up onto it, the last aboard. It seemed the call had taken her quite a second.
"Any longer and we would have left you here," Sam commented from the pilot's seat as Quinn finally sat onto the quinjet, beside Rhodes at the bench.
"Sorry, guys. Had a call to take." She told them as she put her phone back into her purse.
Her eyes landed on Steve's for just second, him catching this expression in her face. He couldn't read it, but he knew that it was no neutral, passing glance. It worried him, a little. Her gaze broke away from his quickly as she turned her attention to Rhodes, who begun to speak with her.
"Alright, let's go home," Sam said as he closed the back hatch and prepared the jet for takeoff.
The ride was quick and filled with casual conversation. For some reason, everyone was in the mood to talk that evening. As Quinn and Steve had their respective conversations with different people, across the walls of the quinjet, they could both feel each other wanting to talk to each other.
They could just feel the pull, but it was clear, the two wanted a private moment. Neither could stop wondering what the other wanted to say, feeling impatient to touch back down and arrive at the compound. When they finally had, however, the group dynamic of the evening still wasn't over, everyone ending up in the common room.
"Okay, I know everyone wants to go to bed, but there's just one more thing," Nat said as she went over to the kitchen.
Steve watched curiously as everyone seemed to walk over there knowingly, and he knew what was coming. Nat pulled a simple white-frosted, circular cake from the fridge, an enthusiastic smile on her face as she placed it down onto the dining table.
"Aw, cute," Rhodes commented.
"What flavor?" Wanda asked.
"Plain vanilla." Nat said. "Just like Steve."
This earned a laugh from everyone as they all gathered around the dining table. Steve simply chuckled along, giving a half-hearted shake of his head at the joke. He then obligatorily took a seat in the chair that Rhodes pulled out for him, so he could sit with the cake in front of him.
In simple, capitalized blue frosting were the words 'Happy Birthday, Steve!', probably done by Sam, who was undeniably the best at anything that had to do with food. Nat then reached over to place little red and white candle in the center of the cake.
"Anyone got a lighter?" She then asked, glancing around the room.
Rhodes was ready to walk over to the kitchen drawers to look for one, "I'll get it."
Quinn, however, simply reached over and quickly pinched the wick of the candle. Once she pulled her hand back, the candle held a steady flame.
"Nevermind," Rhodes said as he stepped back towards the table.
Everyone was quite amused to see such extraordinary powers used for such an ordinary task. Steve's brows raised as he glanced up at Quinn, who stood almost directly across the table from him. She only returned his bemused expression with a short, sheepish grin.
Then they begun to sing to Steve and he sat, looking around at all of them, then down at his cake. Those were the types of days where his second chance, his extra time, felt most like a gift.
"...happy birthday to you!"
As the song ended, Steve then blew out the candle. "Thanks guys."
"Happy birthday, Steve-O."
"Happy birthday, Cap."
"Happy birthday!"
"Alright, who wants cake?" Nat asked as she came from the kitchen with a tiny knife for the cake.
"Me," Rhodes and Wanda simultaneously said.
"See? Some people like vanilla," Steve playfully joked back to Nat, earning some laughs around the room.
"Quinn?" Nat then turned to the girl as she stood by the kitchen counter, drinking from a glass of water.
"Hm?" Quinn rose a brow, unsure what Nat was asking her.
"You want a slice?"
"Oh," Quinn said as she put down her glass, "I think I'll pass. I kind of filled up on those hors d'oeuvres. Maybe for breakfast tomorrow."
Nat chuckled, "okay. Steve?"
"Same." Steve said as he stood from the table. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay, actually. Thanks for today, guys."
Everyone bid him goodnight, but Quinn knew she couldn't let him leave before she was able to talk to him. It was urgent. So she tried to go unnoticed by everyone else as she followed him out through the common room door.
As she rushed out through the door, he was already just a few steps away from the elevator.
"Rogers, wait," she called out, her voice bouncing off the corridor walls.
He looked back at her, a little surprised that she'd followed him out. The elevator opened as she made her way across the hallway, reaching the spot where he stood.
"I need to talk to you," she told him as they entered the elevator.
As they stood inside, the door closing, Steve turned to look at her, searching her eyes, wondering if there was any chance that she needed to tell him the same exact thing as he needed to tell her. "I do too. Need to talk to you."
Quinn's brow raised slightly, "about what?"
"Uh," Steve started, unsure if he wanted to go first. "I-"
"-Rogers, I was just on the phone with the Senator." She interrupted him, the urgent look on her face now making sense to him. "He got a confession out of someone from Truman's side. He's behind the green uniforms. Romania, the Dominican--it was all him."
"What?" Steve almost breathed out.
"I know. It's a bold accusation, but, it makes sense and--I think I can help Reeds prove it."
Steve lost all the words he had been planning to say. His heart sank, quite frankly, because he knew what this meant. "Do you really believe this?"
"I-I don't know. I'm just not sure yet. B-but, I called Maria and she still can't get a single thing from the captured men from the last mission. This might be my shot at figuring this out." She said, speaking almost frantically, cerebral and determined. "If it's not true, then at least I can know for sure."
Steve stared at her, seeing just in the tortured and fretful look that she tried to hide, that she needed to do this. So he nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"This is your shot at figuring this out. Whoever is behind this, they're after you, Quinn. I think you're the only one who can stop them." He told her.
She nodded to him and the elevator opened, the two of them being snapped out of the intense stare that they held. As the two of them stepped out, breaking the gaze, Quinn spoke once more. "I have to be in L.A. as soon as tomorrow."
Steve was quiet for a second, as he only stared down at his feet while they walked. She waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she spoke again.
"This just--is better. I think. I help the Senator with his election, he helps me with my investigation and I don't really have to keep fearing myself---my power."
Steve finally gave an exhale, nodding in agreement. "Can you just promise me you'll be careful?"
Quinn looked up to meet his eyes, the deep blue of them begging for her to actually keep this promise. She wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for caring so much about her. Frankly, Quinn wanted to tell him much more, something much different, but she knew that it was either one or the other. She couldn't tell him both.
"Yeah. Of course," she tried to give him this expression of assurance.
They then stopped walking, arriving at Quinn's door.
"What-um-what were you going to say?" Quinn asked as she stood in front of him.
"Oh, um, I just wanted to say thank you again. For the gift."
"Oh," Quinn shortly reacted. "Did you open it?"
"No. No, not yet, but um--thank you."
She gave him another smile. "Is, uh, is that it?"
"Yeah." Steve said. "Yes."
"Okay."
"Well, um. Goodnight, Quinn."
"Goodnight, Rogers."
Steve watched as she disappeared behind her door, then he stood there and let out a long sigh, before going on--down the corridor into his very own space. Placed in there for his convenience by one of the compound staff, were all his presents, stacked and strewn throughout the small table in the middle of the kitchenette.
As he walked over to see them all, colorfully wrapped and perfectly generous, he only searched for one. Quite possibly the smallest of the bunch, he found the little red paper-wrapped box and grabbed it before sitting over on the edge of his bed. He wasn't sure what to expect, but as he ripped away the red paper, he found what looked like a velvet blue box that surely held some sort of jewelry. Either way, it was clear she'd spent some money on this.
Steve then opened the velvet box and stared down at the item, before letting out a breath and nodding to himself, out of sheer understanding. Then he pulled it from the box, a shiny, brand new watch, simple with it's brown leather strap. The clock itself was navy, with gold hands and hardware, perfectly set to the present time.
As he sat there, smiling to himself gratefully, a small square of folded up paper fell from underneath the velvet box, down between his shoes. Steve rose a brow, picking up the square that was already unfolding, completely unraveling it to be read.
A small, messily handwritten note inside, he read:
Happy birthday, Rogers.
Quinn
Simple, hiding behind a casual packaging, but extremely heartfelt and earnest nonetheless--he knew to expect nothing less from Quinn. It was the most perfect gift he could've gotten from her. And as Steve sat there, looking down at the watch that rested between his hands, he realized how much he was going to miss her and how much he wished that they had more time.