July 1st, 2021
1915 hours
Robyn sighed and tapped her foot irritably. Where was Quinn?
The fabric of her dress was stifling, and because of the low cut of the dress she'd been forced to go braless, the result of which was a very uncomfortable irritation on her naked breasts. This unfortunately caused her to shrug and adjust the garment quite frequently in a vain effort to scratch.
She scowled from her location on the perimeter of the dance floor. From there she could see the raised stage platform and, just behind it, the greying heads of several men and women. Quinn had positioned her here specifically to observe the men and women that were considered the pioneers of Biofuel research. She had to admit this was the ideal spot, but the persistent agitation from her garment made it near impossible to keep track of anything.
"Gordon to Bourke." Her radio hissed almost inaudibly.
"Robyn here." She responded, gazing around nonchalantly as to not draw attention to herself.
"See anything yet?"
"No." She whispered, taking note of her surroundings.
"Keep a wary eye."
"Sure, but what am I waiting for?"
"I'm not certain. Just track every move Ellis makes."
"Aren't you paid to do that?" She frowned, eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face.
"Not in so many terms, but yes, I'm on stake out, just like you."
"I'm not an agent, Gordon."
"Could have fooled me." Came laughter on the other end of the line.
"I'm glad someone believes in me." She admitted, feeling slightly uplifted.
"Keep a weary eye, and radio any activity you think is suspicious."
"Which would be?"
"You'll know when you see it. Gordon, over and out."
The wave cut off and she sighed. She didn't have a clue what she was looking for. Robyn stood resolutely by the refreshment table and glanced over the selection. Spying a platter of mini quiches, she raised an astonished brow. The selection was impressive and encompassed cuisine from a variety of countries. It literally spanned the globe, palate wise. Now that she thought about it, there were quite a few diplomats from other nations in attendance. It only served that there would be a varied buffet provided.
Her stomach let out a loud growl and she picked up a plate. Might as well enjoy the feast, she thought, loading the tray with meat pies, shrimp kabobs, and cheese and cracker samplers.
She ate her way slowly through the lovely spread, eyes casting about watchfully. To pass the time she observed the guests, excited eyes taking in the ladies' beautiful dresses, the handsome gentlemen in their impeccable suits. The lights danced tantalizingly off of the chandeliers, their soft light casting off the crystal facets, covering the dance floor in twinkling splendor. The band was decent, but the songs were too similar, and far too penchant toward the eighties for her taste. Nearly everyone there was twenty years her junior, which accounted for the preference in music. She felt awkward and very out of place: nearly everyone was either dancing with a partner or conversing in groups.
She was the only one standing alone: it reminded her of sad school dances, where she always ended up rejected. Robyn's mind suddenly teleported back in time, to scenes of being a lonely bystander, dateless dances plaguing her mind. Alone, in a cream dress, gazing forlornly at the happy couples as they embraced, wishing she was one of the sexy girls hanging onto a football player's arm...the flashback faded into one even worse. Standing in a dress she didn't remember the color of, because the man supporting her on his arm stole her attention completely. He motioned her to the stage, where they were to dance, the happiest dance of her life. Leaving the club house, gazing deeply into his eyes, eager to spend eternity. Tires squealing...heat and fire...an empty house, cold bed, and endless dinners for one...
Robyn's breathing was shallow. She couldn't move. Her entire body was frozen in fear, her mind far out of logical reach. She almost turned around and bolted from the room, but the warm touch of strong fingers wrapping around her wrist stopped her. Her heart pounded loudly, with fear or excitement she didn't know, as she realized who it was without looking. Robyn turned an inquisitive eye toward him, her eyes immediately drawn to his intense gaze.
"What?" She sniffed, attempting to hide the tears brimming on her lashes.
"You look lonely." Quinn murmured, hand trailing almost reassuringly up her arm.
"What an astute observation." Robyn glared tearfully, attempting to loosen his hold on her. "Let me go."
"To what purpose? So you can mope longingly, reminiscing on mute emotions?"
"Maybe you've never been in love," she hissed "but I do know what it's like, and what it is like to lose it. Those are not 'mute' feelings."
"Incidentally, I do know," his eyes were unreadable as he stared her down "but I can live my life after, and you should, too."
Robyn opened her mouth to counter his challenge, then closed it resolutely. It was neither his place nor his privilege to be a part of her personal life. She glowered at him, challenging his equally intense stare of pursuance.
After a moment his face lit up. "Dance with me." He said simply, extending his hand and bowing.
Of all the things she was expecting from him, that didn't make it anywhere near the list. Robyn gawped at him as he stood expectantly before her, his arm outstretched in an offering of peace.
"Pardon me?" She stammered, completely caught off guard.
"It would be an honor for you to grace me with a dance." Quinn's low voice trickled like a fountain over her, and she watched in disbelief as her hand reached out of its own accord to meet his. He grasped it firmly, pulling her into his strong body.
"You are a wallflower." He stated as he spun her around the room in a close embrace, one hand resting on her lower back, the other holding her hand gracefully. His wary eyes scanned the crowd the duration of their dance, searching for suspicious activity.
"It really doesn't surprise me at this point that you would think that."
"Do you want to know how I could tell?" He asked, pulling his eyes from his investigatory subjects and tilting his face down to gaze at her.
"I'm not sure." She said honestly, gazing back at him with burning intensity.
"You are easily the most elegant, breathtakingly beautiful woman here. Yet you stand in the corner, arms crossed, not looking at anyone. I'm willing to assume you were a very smart, introverted girl in your youth. Undoubtedly far too involved in extra curriculum to be interested in the opposite sex." He explained, smiling at her. "Had I been there, you would not have stood in a corner. You are an exceptional woman, Robyn. Any man here would be lucky to have you on his arm."
Robyn blushed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks at his compliment: he was being truly sincere, his steely eyes burning into hers with unbridled passion.
"You didn't let me stand in a corner tonight." She murmured; casting her eyes downward. Her arms slipped from his waist: she just couldn't believe this infuriatingly superior, egotistical man had actually, though in not so many terms, admitted to being interested in her.
He brought his lips to her ear, barely brushing against her lobe as he said, "Damn right I didn't." He gently placed one of her hands back on his tapered waist, drawing the other into a firm hold in his own hand.
Her skin tingled all the way down her body, beginning where his mouth had brushed against her ear, and she forgot every reason she'd been desperately holding onto for loathing this man. She knew the consequences of fraternization: yet, as his sure feet moved her deftly around the floor, his hand steadfast and warm against her back, his leaden eyes gazing intensely into hers, she felt herself letting down her walls. The feel of his skin on hers made every excuse to stay away from him melt away.
"What? Why?" She almost laughed with the absurdity of it. Here was the grown equivalent of her high school crush, only upgraded about fifty times, physically and mentally. She was the same girl; only without the glasses, accompanying disheveled ponytail and twenty pounds of books strapped to her back. For some reason, she was the one he wanted to be with that evening.
"Because I find myself entranced by you, and I would like to dance." He disentangled his other hand from hers and he placed both arms around her waist, bringing her closer. Robyn suddenly realized the implications of her question and froze, but the sensations dancing between their bodies made her not care. Even if he hadn't taken it literally, she might have, possibly, entertained the idea. She was flush against him now and could feel his muscled body flexing against hers as they danced leisurely. Her head fell to his shoulder instinctively as she brought her arms around him.
"Just feel the moment." He spoke gently in her ear, brushing his lips over her skin briefly, and again on her neck as he settled his head near hers.
Her neck tingled elatedly where he'd made contact.
Robyn's skin rose, goose bumps forming on her arms with eagerness. She wanted the song to continue forever, so she could feel this moment, this thrill of ecstasy. She felt alive, for the first time in a long time, in a man's arms. A real man-a guy that made all others look like ants from an aerial view.
She opened her mouth to speak, unsure what would come out. "Thank you, Quinn."
A low, rumbling chuckled shook his chest. "For dancing with you?"
Robyn's face couldn't get any redder at this point: she almost felt faint. "Well, for that," she began, breathing in his spicy, woodsy scent "and for what you did for me yesterday."
She felt him still, his graceful footing faltering, and he tensed. "You shouldn't have to thank me. What happened to you was my fault. I should have been watching your back, and I wasn't, so really, instead of you thanking me, I should be apologizing."
She lifted her head to argue, but he brought his forehead to rest on hers, staring solemnly into her eyes. "Don't. It's my fault, and I'm so very sorry."
"You already apologized." Robyn whispered, bringing her hand to caress his strong cheek and jaw. It twitched where she touched him, and he sighed deeply.
"You deserve many apologies from me." He replied lowly, lips dangerously close to hers. Another number had started, a quicker one, but they continued their slow, close embrace, barely moving over the dance floor.
"Are you alright?" Quinn mumbled, their faces flush. She could feel his eyelashes on her cheek as he blinked.
"Yes." She whispered. "Very much so." The song wound down and she was sad that he would have to let her go, but his hands stayed on her back for a moment, rubbing softly up and down, lips buried in her shoulder, body warming hers.
Static hissed in Robyn's ear, jerking her back to reality. For a moment she'd forgotten they were on a mission, lost in wonderful universe where just she and Quinn existed, and he was the real Quinn, the one he didn't want others to see.
"Gordon to Bourke." The agent's voice crackled. She sighed, not wanting to leave Quinn's embrace.
"Bourke." She acknowledged, causing Quinn to look up, eagerness replacing the previously open, honest face.
"Garcia said Lynne packed a briefcase of notes to bring with her. I don't know what information they contain, but it's important enough she needed to keep it close."
"Briefcase, check. Robyn out." She whispered, earning an imperceptible nod from Quinn: he knew without asking what he had to do.
They gazed at one another a second more, until finally, he pulled away from her, and she saw a sweeping clarity in his gaze. Just a split second and then it was gone, replaced by the determined, detective stare.
"I must go." Ever the gentleman, he pulled away and kissed the back of her hand.
"Wait." Robyn whispered, touching his upper arm lightly. Quinn looked at her, his face completely open and readable, for the first time. What she thought she saw there scared her shitless. "You-um, I-I...thaksdlfmnuch." She stammered idiotically, unable to speak coherently. Smooth, Robyn. Now he'll think you imbecilic. "Uh...well, I just wanted to-to thank you, again, for the dance." She finished weakly.
His clear orbs bore into her trembling eyes. "The pleasure was mine, Robyn."
Her body sank with relief as he turned and left. God, she thought as she eyed his broad shoulders and slim hips weaving through the crowded dance floor, get your head together. She gulped forcefully, suppressing the urge to bolt after him and lead him back into her embrace. Robyn vainly attempted an intervention against herself: mentally, she knew it wasn't time yet to allow herself to be involved, romantically speaking. He was a highly successful government agent, and she just beginning her career as a scientist. She no longer trusted her instincts, though, when it came to love. Part of her felt tied to her disturbed past while the other, more physical, half pulled her toward an indefinite future.
Her brain weighed the options, and the hopeful part knew, with time, she could be happy. Robyn cursed her primitive instincts as she pined after that tall, strong frame as it eased around the guests, invisible to every male in the room while at the same time gathering longing stares from the women. She could see why Quinn was efficacious. Every female eye turned as he sauntered past, their hungry expressions following his every move. Which is exactly what she was doing.
Robyn cocked her head, examining Quinn scrupulously, neck still prickling with desire from his touch. Yes, she decided, this is most certainly a dangerous man.
The fire he'd ignited didn't cease to burn. Incidentally, her breathing didn't slow for an agonizingly long time.