Hannah and Quinn: Car crashes and Emergency rooms Who: Hannah, Quinn, and Will Archer (leader of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad), Ben Fox, John Abbott, Frank Abbott, Mortimer Chambers, Hippocrates Smethwyck, etc. When: Monday, April 21st Where: Quinn's flat, a Ministry car, St. Bartholomew's, St. Mungo's What: Quinn learns there are some downsides to never getting married.
Bacon. Eggy bread with blackberry compote. Pain au chocolat...from scratch. Fresh squeezed orange juice and eggs benedict. Toast, sausage, fresh espresso from their favourite place on Cayotic Alley. And last but not least, a small, individual-sized strawberry and rhubarb breakfast crumble. (In Quinn's logic, serving it in the morning was enough to make it "breakfast" and not a dessert.) And she wouldn't even be able to stay and watch him eat it.
Hannah laid out the table and cast a warming charm over all of it--except, of course, for the orange juice, which got the opposite treatment. For the last week and a half, she'd been stretching her self-imposed grocery budget, trying to cook away the tension between them. She couldn't really blame him for thinking her explanation of where she'd been the night she'd had to disappear for the Black Tulip initiation was a little thin. It sounded thin to her, and she even knew how close to the truth it really was. She just wanted things to be good again. Happy. Especially with their six month anniversary tomorrow. She fully intended to take Lirit's advice and celebrate the milestones they did have. Quinn's heart was definitely connected to his stomach, so hopefully...hopefully one of these meals would work.
The bedroom door opened with a timid creak. Sunlight bled through the new curtains, enough to light her way to the edge of the bed. Quinn lay turned away from the light, but she could still see the faint outlines of his face, the curve of his jaw, his closed eyes. She crawled up, kneeling next to him in her narrow skirt, and leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He stirred slightly. "I left breakfast on the table again," she murmured, resting her forehead against his temple.
"Yamburgla," Quinn muttered, burrowing his face deeper into his pillow. The rays of sun from the window filtered over his face, making him squeeze his eyes closed tighter to block them out. "What time is it?" he finally managed to force out in a sleepy mumble.
Hannah sat up a little, though she was still leaning her weight forward on her hands. "Almost eight. I'm about to head to work."
Grunting, Quinn forced his eyes open and attempted to sit up. Rubbing his eyes, tilted his head to look up at her. "Are you coming home tonight?" he asked with a lift of his eyebrow.
"Of course," she said, blinking, a tiny flinch that might as well have been written all over her face. "I might even get home a little early. Will and I have scheduled appointments today, but I don't think they're going to take us until five o'clock."
Quinn nodded, sitting up a little more and forcing a strained smile to his face. "Good. Have fun. Are you taking your car?"
She shook her head. "No, a Ministry car. They're better for official business where we actually need to look official. My car's better when we're working with kids."
"Are you driving?" he asked, turning and sliding out of the bed.
Hannah got to her feet as well and smoothed her skirt. "Of course. I'm a much better driver now than Will. Far more cautious and observant," she said, forcing a smile of her own. "So, I was thinking tonight I could make dinner and then we could maybe watch a movie?"
Shrugging, Quinn headed for his dresser, pulling out a shirt and tugging it on. "Sounds good," he said, heading over and kissing Hannah chastely on the cheek. "Have a good day at work."
She closed her eyes as he pressed her lips against her cheek. She was not going to cry. This was fine. They were okay. Just okay, but it would get better. She'd just have to keep cooking. Even if that didn't seem to be making a difference.
Hannah stepped back and looked up at him. She wanted to tell him she loved him, to grab him and kiss him until he had to give in, had to see that she hadn't really run away from him again. But she couldn't cross the distance, so she tried to smile even though the muscles in her face didn't seem to be working right. "You too," she said, and then turned and left, not letting herself look at the laden table as she walked out of the flat.
Maybe he was overreacting, Quinn thought to himself as he headed towards the table covered in more food than even he could eat. But... she'd done it again. Just up and left and kept insisting nothing was bothering her. It didn't make sense and he didn't like it. Glaring at the food, he picked up the crumble and stabbed a fork into it. He had no idea how he was supposed to eat all of this. Luckily there was a pregnant girl in the flat, he was sure she'd be of some help.