Quinn and Grey Ch. 01

Swimming was a summer sport, and one not to be indulged in a Prada mini-dress. I was now very certain of that. Dripping little dots onto my hardwood floors, I snuck into the main room of my apartment, looking around, suspicious of whom might be hanging around. I didn't know the story behind my feys' complete lack of personal boundaries but I was determined to break them of the habit before it got ugly. Luckily the room was empty. Dorian was locked up in his coffin, safe until night fall, and I had run of the house. A very soggy, cold, miserable run.

"Quinn?" Grey was standing in the tiny hallway that led into the main room of my apartment. He looked uncertain and I frowned. "I don't have any clothes," he said, shivering. His blond hair was sticking to his face and his lips were blue. He looked like a wet dog and I grinned. The grin was widening as the scenario continued through my poor, sleep deprived brain. "What the hell are you thinking?"

My face went blank. "What do you mean?" I asked, until I realized my mistake. "No! I wasn't... Not because of the clothes..." I mumbled.

"Then the lack of clothes?"

"No!" I snarled. "Go get in the frickin' bath. I'll go get you clothes." I stopped into the kitchen ignoring the trail of water and my violent vibrations. I jiggled the teapot and got a happy slosh so I replaced it and turned the burner on.

"Why don't you go first?"

"Because if you go first you can leave before I get in." I kicked the high heels off and turned the heat up. "And then you don't have to wait for the hot water to come back."

"So you're trying to get rid of me?" He actually seemed hurt, which gave me pause. I had forgotten our conversation. We were supposed to be trying to be friends. What was it he had said? Just because he wasn't me didn't mean he was an enemy. I had always been safe assuming that I was the only trust worthy person around. Knowing how untrustworthy I was made me flinch. I was really messed up.

"Kind of," I spoke, honestly. He had a bemused smile on his face. How did I explain to him my privacy issues?

"Listen, chicky, you're more likely to get pneumonia if you stay like that." He pointed to the soaked dress. "Just get warmed up and in fresh clothes. By the time you are done we'll have food and I'll have my own clothes." I stared at him for a moment, and he stared right back. I had seen what Grey could do if he got mad enough. I was more worried about the fact that I could still admire him in his dripping silk shirt than the fact that in about two seconds I could be dead if he felt like it.

"Fine." I turned on heel and barricaded myself in the bathroom. It wasn't until I was hissing and mewling, trying to get into the bath water that I became curious of how he was planning on getting clothes, here, without leaving... If he left why couldn't he just go home and not bother me? I was scrubbing my skin with soap when it occurred to me... He was worried about me?

There was a knock on the door and I jumped. Useless bedroom lock. "Quinn? Are doing ok?" He asked through the door.

"Fine," I called back.

"Do you have a frying pan?" It took my sluggish brain far too long to process that question and when it finally got through the frozen bits and into the stream all that I could think of was why a werewolf wanted a frying pan.

"What?" Incredulity. Perhaps that would translate over the gap that existed between his brain and mine.

"You know... You fry things in it?"

"I know what it is. Why do you want it?"

"To... fry things?"

"Bastard," I mumbled and thought hard. "I might have one in the drawer beneath the stove." I wasn't certain. I think the last thing I cooked in my kitchen was popcorn. My lifestyle didn't support culinary conditioning. It was more of a "Number six with curly fries and a shake" sort of deal.

The water slowly got cold and the steam was starting to clear from my mirror. Mist carried the scent of my chai bath soap and I felt homey and comfortable, even with the oversized mutt fiddling around my kitchen. I finally dragged myself from the bath and forced myself to look at the damage inflicted by our little tussle.

My shoulder was bruised from the base of my neck to my third rib and I had a long raw looking scratch across the shoulder blade. Note to self: No home run slides off of rickety old docks. I had a gash across my cheek which ticked me off. I was Faerie Queen, by default, and I was starting to think, by blood. Still I was going to get a scar on my cheek bone. Damn it all if I wasn't a bit vain. That was the extent of the damage however. I guess I was a little better off being a tinge immortal.

I wrapped myself in the fluffy violet colored towel and edged into the bedroom. The door was firmly closed, for which I was extremely grateful, and I could smell tantalizing aromas floating in from the kitchen. Perfect, the man could cook. I was starting to run out of reasons to dislike him. Oh, never mind, I think "turns into man-eating monster monthly" covers it. I dressed in something warm, even though the bath had taken the edge off of the cold. The flannel pants and baggy, black, sweater made me want to curl up in bed and fall asleep.

When I walked into the kitchen I was assaulted by the smells of food that I didn't even know I had. There was a paper bag on the island between the kitchen and the front room. Grey's clothes? I didn't ask but instead went straight for the coffee mugs and the tea. Grey spoke without turning away from the stove. "How do you like your eggs?" I was quiet, perhaps a little too long, and he turned to look at me. His face went blank and there was a small line of concentration between his eyes.

"What?" I asked, forgetting about the eggs. "Did I forget something?" I looked down. Nope. I even had socks on.

"I've never seen you like this," he said. "I mean the only time I've ever seen you in street clothes was what? Three years ago?" It was true. I dressed up for work and then the couple times I had been out with him had demanded dress clothes as well. Now he was suddenly seeing me in my pajamas, in my house, with no witnesses. I willed the blush away from my cheeks.

"Scrambled," I blurted.

"What?" He looked at me like I was crazy and the blush persisted beyond the skill of my will power. I looked down and he shifted.

"The eggs you asshole," I mumbled.

"Oh..." He turned away, shoulders shaking.

"Don't laugh at me!" I stomped around the kitchen trying not to let my power trickle out with my embarrassment. "Go take your bath."

"Once we eat."

"You'll get water all over the place," I protested, even though I could see that he was already drying. He still had to be colder than was natural. There was a kitchen towel balled up at the base of the refrigerator, soaked and dirty. He had mopped up.

"I want to eat first," he demanded and I raised a brow. There was an edge to his voice that made me curious. Curious enough that I sat at the little table shoved in the corner of my small kitchen. "What are you five?" He put a plate of scrambled eggs and wheat toast in front of me, with the salt and pepper shakers that perched on the back of the stove. I rarely used them... Could spices go bad? I didn't know. "I didn't know adults ate scrambled eggs."

"I don't really eat eggs that often. Can you get the ketchup out of the fridge?" I asked absentmindedly, pulling the crust off of my toast. I looked up at him when he didn't answer. "What?"

"You eat your eggs with ketchup and you are pulling the crusts off of your toast, love."

I frowned. "And?"

"Who raised you?" He asked, grinning. "You eat like a little kid. I bet you don't like vegetables either."

"I like peppers and onions," I protested. I munched on my toast as he shook his head and retrieved the ketchup.

"Do you have coffee?" He asked tentatively. Just because I didn't like vegetables and ate scrambled eggs did not mean that I was too juvenile to drink coffee. I began to say us much when I realized that I hadn't actually bought or made my own coffee in a few months.

"See if any of my people left some behind, I haven't been shopping in a while," I frowned.

"Wait... Where did you get the eggs?" I looked down my appetite dropping.

"You know, there is a minimart like two blocks from this building."

"No way?" I ate the eggs. "And you went there in your wet-mutt glory?"

"No. I had Chase stop by when he brought the stuff from my house." He gestured to the bag and I nodded slowly. Right, why do it yourself when you have underlings? I hadn't gotten used to that little feature yet. He was sitting down in front of me now, with a plate of food that I didn't recognize. It smelled like it would give me a stomach ache.

"No coffee?" I asked.

"I don't even see a coffee pot and I'm hungry." He sounded grumpy as he tackled his breakfast. I was picking at my eggs thoughtfully. This was kind of nice, sitting down with someone to have a meal. I hadn't really experienced something like this. My family wasn't the type to have sit down meals and I hadn't been in a serious relationship, romantic or not, since the end of high school.

"What do you think will happen next?" I asked quietly, setting my fork down. I didn't know the politics of the Freaks. I didn't want to even though I was a part of the whole mess now. It seemed that Jackson's pack was bigger and stronger than Grey, but why did they want the city so badly? If we lost the city... I stopped. If we lost the city. Perhaps I hadn't disconnected myself from the Life as much as I thought. In all actuality I knew that I was now a key member of Freak society. It was my responsibility to keep Seattle's Fey safe, and to do so I believed that keeping the city Grey's territory was necessary.

"I think that he'll start something with the norms." The tone of his voice was dark and I felt my stomach fill with ice. That's right; the fey weren't my only priority. I had to keep the norms safe too or I would never be able to live with myself. If Jackson went around killing people just to get his hands on the city I would kill him myself. I looked up and Grey put his fork down, his head already shaking. "Don't, Quinn." He said softly. "This guy is out of your league and I don't want you-"

"Involved?" I questioned him. He looked sheepish as he wiped away the remains of his eggs with a piece of toast. "Because you are doing a bang-up job of that."

"That isn't what I meant. I know when I need help, but this isn't one of those times. You'll be better off if you just keep your eyes on the Fey and run Caryn Caryn." He was still shaking his head. I pushed away from the table and took the plates to the sink. "Quinn, I'm doing my best. I don't want humans to die either." I bent over the sink and threw the rag against the wall. It made a satisfying splat.

"I didn't even think of it. I didn't even worry that he would take it out on humans." I sucked in a breath and spun to look at him. "I would have killed him last night if I had thought of it. I wouldn't have given a damn about your shitty politics or your turf war."

"You would have taken the territory for yourself?" He seemed shocked and I controlled my anger as best I could, but still the power was starting to fog up the room. Grey was getting tense. I didn't want a tense, wet, werewolf in my kitchen.

"It isn't about the territory," I said. "Go get in the bath." I turned back around and felt him brush against my energy as he passed. It made us both shudder. When he was gone I paced around the apartment trying to calm down. The way Grey thought was completely alien to me. He was concerned that I was going to take away his territory. We both knew I could take it by force, but I don't think either of us was certain whether or not I could keep it, and for everyone in it, fey or lycanthrope, that was the important part.

This was one of the times I totally envied the vampires. They didn't have any sort of group mentality. They usually came together under the strongest guy out of pure self interest but they could survive in the world without any other soul. They didn't have territorial wars and they bowed to neither faerie or were. Stupid Takashi and his freedom.

I could hear the bath water running as I flopped down onto the couch reveling in the soft suede of the upholstery. The thoughts that took my mind were along the lines of "just don't think about it" and "why me?" I supposed I'd just have to get over it. "Quinn?" I stared at the ceiling, willing the voice to be a figment of my imagination. "Umm Quinn?" I groaned and swung upward stomping to the bedroom. The bathroom door was open and I stared at the peak of pale shoulder I could see.

"What?" I didn't even try to hide my grouchiness.

"There aren't any towels here." I could see the sheepish reflection of Grey's eyes in the mirror. The last thing I wanted was to cater to the fur ball but he was right. I had used the last two towels for myself.

"Right..." I grumbled and stomped to the laundry basket on the other side of my bed. In the full length mirror I could see him watching me as I shuffled through the laundry basket. I had one of those jumbo tubs that were great for bathing, and only my lucrative and somewhat disturbing lifestyle paid for this apartment and its quirks, like that huge tub and the ability to do laundry in my own home. I found a couple of towels and brought them to the door of the bathroom and was about to just toss them on the counter.

"Can you put them on the toilet?" Bastard had to get specific, just to mess with me... That had to be it. I walked in, keeping my eyes safely on the back wall, despite the itching to look over and see if he was as beautiful all over as he was without his shirt on. Of course he was. It was a Lycan thing... Before I could get ahead of myself I plopped the towels on the toilet and spun walking quickly toward the door. "Quinn! Watch ou-" as I descended toward the linoleum, in a flurry of my own dirty towels and the bathroom rug, my brain was kind enough to translate the rest of his sentence. "Watch out, you're going to trip." Yes, thank you Captain Obvious, gravity is once again foiled. Except this time it really was, because there was a wiry, muscle bound arm digging painfully into my already sore body, keeping me about an inch and a half away from the linoleum. "You okay, ducky?" The slosh of water from the tub, and the sensation of moisture soaking through my clothes beckoned the disturbing thought, that yes, there was a wet and very naked man holding onto my waist with one arm, while trying not to fall out of the bathtub.

"This situation is ridiculous." I said, because at the moment that is what my mind would allow. The arm slipped away and I dropped to the floor with an unceremonious thud. So much for knight in shining armor... I landed in a puddle.

"You're welcome." He snapped and my eyes widened a bit. I had heard the bestial growling of Grey when he was mad, almost murderously so, but I had never heard him actually pissed at a person, especially not me, which was surprising. Sure we sniped at each other, but I had never actually had him truly mad at me. The situation really was ridiculous. I looked up and almost got whiplash looking away too quickly.

"Get back in the water!" I shouted feeling my face turn several shades of red. It was too late, because now my curiosity was sated and I knew, knew, that he was indeed perfect. I would never be able to live this down. The water made a protesting noise as his weight settled and I dared a glance over. He was as decent as he could possibly get and I straightened, still feeling a bit light headed from the unexpected peep show.

His face told me he really was pissed. He had been in a bad mood since our little incident, but this was different. This was personal. "Why do you have to do that?" He fumed and I sat up, sad to put off my escape from my own bathroom and the buzzing of power I could feel slowly leaking from him. This was not going to end well, I thought. "It's the same damn thing every time. I take one step forward and you just shoot me down. Are people...? Other people! really that unwelcome in your life?" He turned his coffee and cream stair at me and my stomach clenched up. His beast was staring out at me from the depths of a very dark soul, and something about the intensity of it had my hormones scrambling. Worse part is... I think Grey knew it.

"It's not that I wasn't thankful for you saving my ass! Not just now but earlier also... It's just that at the moment you're a bit... Naked!" I felt like a high school girl as I turned my face away. I felt his power shift and amp up a bit and was moving before I really knew what it was about. Obviously enough time with the freaks had clued me in on some of the unspoken languages. His hand caught my wrist and he slid me against the counter and was kneeling in my way before I could react.

"Is that the problem?" He growled and I looked up and met his eyes, which was a stupid move on my part. He was a pissed wolf, who was under the impression he was dominant to me. It was actually true for the most part. I was never gonna try and dispute the fact. "If I wore a fucking suit every time we met, and cut my hair, and took out my earrings, would that change anything?" He shook me and I rattled against the sink. "Answer me!"

"What? No!" I cried out as my head hit the cupboards. He let out a long huff and I shuddered, my eyes squeezing shut as he got closer and I was being scalded by the pounding of his animal self. It was unreal, and tense, drawing parts of me tight that weren't supposed to be. His head thunked onto my shoulder and I stiffened and tried not to move. "Grey?"

"I don't know what to do anymore." His voice sounded tired and I could feel the hot air of his breath through the weave of my sweater. "Please tell me what you're expecting, 'cause seriously Quinn, I haven't got a clue anymore." I gulped and felt my fear doubling, my power vibrating off of the brick wall that was Grey's own. He sounded defeated, and tired, because of me and my own issues.

"I told you that I didn't expect anything from anyone." I said, my voice sounding cold and emotionless to my own ears. He would know it wasn't what I was really feeling, because there were other parts of him telling him things that I wasn't saying. Like how I was heating up because I could feel his muscles and breath against me, even through my clothes. Or how I was sad that I had hurt him, even though I didn't know how to be...

"Expect something from me!" He pleaded. "I want you to be disappointed in me. I want to see you turn red when I embarrass you, or piss you off." He was mumbling, his voice getting lazy as his hand started touching. I pressed up against the counter, trying not to like it. The bite of fear that I was feeling was exciting him. I could feel his excitement through my pajama bottoms and it made me bite my lip as his hands found my hips, and his mouth found the shell of my ear.

"I-I can't Grey." I pushed against his shoulders, trying to replace the fear and heat with anger and coldness. He was immovable and my pushing on him only made him lean against my hands, the slick, always hot skin sliding like fine silk beneath my shaking fingers. His tongue found my pulse and my fingers curled, nails dragging against his skin.

"I'll make you." It wasn't a threat. His voice was gentle as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up against him. I stopped breathing as we sat with his face above mine. "Aren't you tired of being like this?" I felt that sliver of doubt that always niggled at the back of my mind. I had turned myself into what I was to keep me safe. I remember being green and useless and scare. Watching Lorilee die, killing her with my own power hadn't corrupted me. I was already corrupt. I could do it a thousand times, to a thousand people and not feel it. Takashi could burn in hell! All of them could, right? I thought about Phillip and Dorian and then I looked up and thought of Grey.