Paragon - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

She slept soundly as we dropped back into Dubai to refuel.
I had no intention to rip her from dreams that were better than the present. I moved soundlessly into the cabin and staff were already greeting me with hot towels and a newspaper. I dismissed the latter and wiped my face briefly.
"I need you to purchase some sleeping tablets for me." I told the flawlessly dressed cabin member, who nodded curtly. "I've had a lot of trouble getting sleep between transfers so something strong please."
"Absolutely, Ms Fletcher. If you need anything else, let us know and we'll do our upmost."
I flashed her a small smile that had no weight to it. She disappeared down the aisle and informed the rest of the crew before opening the exit door and descending the stairs.
"Will Ms Adams require anything?" A steward asked with his hands tucked behind him.
"No." I said flatly, eyeing the tanker pulling up beside the jet. "How long until we're airborne again?"
"We have confirmed take off in forty five minutes, Ms Fletcher." He told me dutifully.
I cut my eyes back to him and nodded. "Thank you for your work over the week."
"Of course." He responded instantly, before smiling once and disappearing back down the cabin. I sighed and dropped into one of the plush cream chairs.
I was not with my thoughts long. The first steward returned in less than fifteen minutes with my requested item. I took it with thanks and slipped the packets into my jacket. Powdered for ease of use on travel. Perfect for combining with drinks. Perfect for mortals that would be better off sleeping when I left this jet.
She would wake in her home and my people would have it furnished like she had never left.
I stared out the window at the rusty sunrise over the desert airport. So many flights. So many lives moving around us. Yet it had to be ours that collided. Now separated once again.
Paragon would have no reason to pursue her once she was out of the picture. Quinn was just another civilian to them with few resources and low influence on the world. She did not influence countries or politics. She did not shape wars or incite great movements.
She was just Quinn.
But she was my Quinn–for a time. I pulled out my phone and stole myself for a few moments. That image I had kept lingered. Those pixels coming together and recreating her. We stood together in that gym. Her green eyes focused on me with that smirk and my own expression was that of a glare in the direction of another mortal. I smiled at it.
"If you wanted a better picture you could have asked."
I almost flinched out of my seat. Her laugh was quiet and still full of sleep. But her ruffled hair and complexion were just as effortlessly beautiful.
"How do you do that?" I accused, turning in my seat. "I can hear your heartbeat but not you materialising beside me." I grumbled.
She looked unbothered but amused. She dropped down into the chair across my own.
"Because you were distracted." She said plainly.
I was suddenly very aware of the sleeping powder in my jacket pocket. I shifted in my seat and tried to get comfortable. Quinn was watching the runway outside silently. I watched her beat a rhythm with her fingers against the arm before I flagged down the attendant for breakfast.
She was distracted the entire time. Barely ate and ordered two coffees. I could not blame her actions. I couldn't even fault her choice in caffeine but her plan was flawed. If she thought she would extend this argument past London she was wrong. She would hate me for it but she would be alive.
Our silence continued as we taxied back down the runway. I saw her hand tighten but apart from that she did not even appear bothered by the takeoff anymore–or her mind was that heavily weighed by something else.
"Quinn."
"Fletcher." She retorted simply, not taking her eyes off the clouds.
"Are you... Are you alright?"
She half turned to me with a look that was trademark. It was one that said, what the hell do you think? I sighed through my nose and grit my teeth. She was making it seem like I wanted this. Like I wanted any of it. That it was my fault.
"You can stop thinking I want this anymore than you do–"
"I can think whatever I want, Fletcher." She snorted.
I flexed my jaw and turned to her fully. She did not meet my eyes. I pressed my forearms onto my knees and leaned forward.
"Do you want to die? Do you want it all to end after this? Step off the plane and just be done with it?" I demanded in a low voice. She remained emotionless. "Because that is exactly what you are asking for–trying to be with me. Why is that so unclear to you?"
She remained silent. It was driving me mad. Mad not knowing what was running through her head when I said this. That her face told me nothing–that she thought it worthless not saying–
"I will mean nothing to you in less than a few years." She murmured, watching the clouds calmly. "What are you so worked up about?" She finished flatly.
I thought I had misheard her.
I thought I couldn't be stabbed through the chest either but here we were. A knife was straight through me and twisted. The expression she wore said that it meant nothing anymore. I straightened out of my position slowly. They were the last words I expected yet they hit all the same. I had almost forgotten what this sort of pain felt like.
"I see." I muttered in a daze.
The space around us was suffocating. I couldn't bare a moment of it. Of any of it. I stood without a word and headed for the one room on this plane that could put a door between us. My insides felt hollow despite my mind knowing it had to be done. I had not seen her to be the one doing it.
I lay down on the bed and placed my hands behind my head. The cloud line was well below us now. The skies a clear, crystalline blue. You would never know.
I barely noticed the hours move. I didn't track our progress or think too much about the where, the why and the how. I let my mind sit in the present. A technique many immortals had mastered. The way to keep the mind from slipping into the past or future too much was the only way to maintain yourself with so much time.
If I thought of our past I wouldn't find the strength to walk back out of this room. If I thought too much of our future... Well I had done that enough for one day.
It was midday and sunny when we touched down in London. The sunlight was stark and harsh.
I felt like the weather was betraying us. That it was not aligning with how we felt–or how it should be at all. There should be a thunder storm, a rage in the air to match my own at the deadening reality of it all. That she was about to walk down those plane steps and disappear from my life.
Pearson was already on duty outside. As was Jamerson. Both with different destinations.
I still couldn't move my body. Even when a steward knocked and entered. Even when she said something... A blur of uniform and noise that went straight through my head. I nodded woodenly. But all I could hear were Quinn's emotionless words.
I will mean nothing to you
Every smirk. Laugh. Wink. Text. Kiss.
An avid pool player. A lethal lawyer. A mortal with striking features and mind. A mortal that saw something different and dangerous when she looked at me and she chased it instead of running. When she was supposed to run she stayed. For me.
What the hell was I doing?
I grabbed the sheets and threw myself to my feet, before storming through the door. The crew were already cleaning the surfaces. Stocking the shelves.
"Where is she?" I stated.
The blonde was flustered. I paced quickly making her drop the towel.
"She is already gone–picked up by your driver–" She got out quickly with confusion.
I rushed to the exit door and the sunlight hit my face. The city beyond the airport was humming already. My eyes landed on the sleek black of Jamerson's car. I grabbed my only travel bag off the seat and threw it onto my shoulder.
Jamerson was quickly meeting me halfway and taking my bag.
"Good to have you back, Ms Fletcher."
I dropped him a nod. "Almost. How fast can you drive?"
He gave me a small smirk despite his usual formality.
"Provide me a location and I am sure we can make arrangements."
* * * * *
Jamerson was true to his word and professionalism.
We were out of London City airport faster than I had dared before. I was thankful for the expedited security checks that came with such luxury travel.
I brought up my phone and tracked Pearson's car. Closing in on Quinn's town house in the West end as we spoke. The movers would have completed the refurnish of her house by now... I had not even made the preparations for myself but that could wait. Those paintings would be safe in an underground vault for as long as needed–the rest I didn't care about.
"We will be outside Redcliffe Square in twenty minutes, Ms Fletcher."
"My thanks Jamerson–and for your efficiency as usual." I added, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He gave me a knowing smile before dodging a slow car and making the lights before they turned.
"I did not expect you back so soon."
"Neither did I." I murmured, glancing out the window as the trademark buildings of central London passed us by.
I had to find a way around this. A loophole of some form. Quinn would have–her profession is finding loopholes. I was sure her company would dismiss her absence and take her straight back if she wanted that life back... She was damn good at everything she did.
When we finally entered the streets of Kensington, I was almost out the door when it was still moving. Jamerson said something as I ran, leaving my bag in the seat and moving for her familiar door. Ornate and floral from the outside. A marvel of secrets and Quinn-ness within.
I took the stairs two at a time before the white pillars and rapped on the brass knocker.
The lights were already on. Footsteps were not slow to sound on the other side. My blood cooled in anticipation as the door was unlocked and drawn back. The moment she appeared with those stunning green eyes and comfortable clothing I was stunned and lost the words. All of my realisations and quick wit vanished before her much like the first time.
Before I could find the words she slammed the door right in my face.
I stared at the glossy black paint for a moment before the information started to run through my head.
"Quinn!" I demanded. Knocking the door again.
She did not respond. I growled and pressed a hand against the frame. Breaking her door down would win me no favours with her.
"Quinn. I need to speak with you. It's important!" I argued with the door.
A few mortals gave me indignant looks from the sidewalk as they escorted dogs or elderly partners. This was a far cry from the norms of the East end... I didn't bother to return their stares with a darker glare.
"Quinn! You know I could enter regardless of you unlocking it!" I threatened.
I heard her string a curse at me and finish with "–detective."
That was maybe deserved...
"I was wrong, Quinn Adams. Is that what you need to hear?" I demanded through the wood.
No response. I sighed through my nose before scanning the outside of the building. I had quite enough of this. I grabbed the side of the pillar to the balcony and scaled it easily. She sounded like she had left the other side of the door and was done listening. So I would have this conversation face to face.
I dropped onto the small balcony above and cursed when my foot went through a flower pot.
I shook the soil off my boot and climbed further, hooking my hand onto a window frame and launching my body quickly to the next. I was at the rooftop in moments. I didn't stop. Crossing past the chimneys and antennas, I dropped off the other side to catch a smaller and lower roof. I leapt the final distance into her back garden and rolled to absorb the blow that wouldn't ruin her grass.
Her garden window was predictably open. No mortal would worry about a break in from this side–unless criminals could scale buildings like that.
I slipped the window open wider and pulled myself through. I heard some music floating carelessly through the conservatory and eyed her plants curiously. Quite a collection of the tropical variety. I had not seen this far into her home before.
I focused my attention on the source of the music and walked calmly.
The kitchen was not far. I had once refused a cup of tea from her before. Before I was a dangerous immortal and she was a lawyer that was too curious for her own good.
She enjoyed this contemporary guitar music. A singer I could not name and a beat that made her head move as she unpacked and replaced certain items my moving team had clearly disrupted. I again noted the casual sweat pants low on her waist and the close fitting band t-shirt. I propped myself against her doorframe watching her for a moment silently.
She yanked a packet of pasta out before turning and seeing me. Her eyes went wide and she swore, sending the pasta flying from the bag and half over me.
"I don't like Italian food." I deadpanned. "But thank you for the offer." I flicked a piece off my jacket.
She threw the rest of it at me and I didn't bother to catch it. I sighed and tried to catch her elbow. She held her arm back and swore at me again.
"Get out." She growled intently.
I didn't move and merely watched her emotionless.
"I'll call the police."
"With what?" I drawled.
She glanced around her house finally realising her phone was not where it should be and her mobile was either on the jet or in Pearson's car.
"Get out, Fletcher." She said again.
"Let me explain before–"
"No. You need to leave and I need to sort out the mess your people made in my house." She emphasised glancing around the immaculate space.
"I was wrong, Quinn."
"Of course you were!" She said with a humourless laugh and accusation in her eyes. "Now get the hell out so you can process that."
I paused and raised an eyebrow. "How long do you plan on being angry with me?"
"I'm not sure yet." She said easily, moving past me and walking down her hallway. I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to make sense of her complete mood change. I heard the front door open and an impatient mortal waiting beside it.
"If you broke my door or window I am charging you!" She called.
I followed her to the front of her house and didn't take my eyes off her the entire time. Her own were adamant and in no mood to negotiate.
"I've got all the time in the world, Quinn." I reminded her, pausing before her in the smaller space between her jackets and staircase.
"Now you can spend it without me." She said sweetly with a false smile.
I gave her a real one slowly.
"I think I understand what this is now."
"I don't care, detective. Leave." She finished with a glare.
"I will get a new profession–once I am through with Paragon of course." I drawled, with an intent look over her face. Her expression did not change but her heart did. It made me grin wickedly, letting my teeth turn into points.
Her heart was on double time.
"You're an asshole." She stated, opening the door wider.
I nodded and glanced outside before closing the space before she could react and pressing my lips to her forehead. She didn't stop me but her entire body heated at the action. Her breathing increased and gave her away more than she knew. I drew back and flashed her a smirk.
"Be seeing you soon, Miss Adams." I walked out her door quickly and did not hear it close. I knew her eyes were on me as I stepped into Jamerson's car. Only when he pulled away did I cast that mortal a look.
It was Quinn that smirked now.