Day 007: What You Missed
Summary: Grey gets Quinn up to date on the events of the last 36 hours, and shows her what she's going to miss based on her choice.
Date: Day Month Year
Related: We Are Grounders Story Arc in general, and Romance or Bromance in particular.
Quinn Grey 

Within the Camp
It's inside the camp.
Day 7 After Landing

After they get back, Quinn has been set up somewhere out of the way, and is mostly staying down. As much as she can. But by mid-morning she's grown bored, and has tried to get herself up and out into the light, which just equals sitting and lounging in a different spot this time. Still, out of the way of the more mobile of individuals.

Grey was definitely going to get distracted from his intended course of action when he left the dropship. Putting his new, unperforated Grounder shirt of sleeveless leather back on, he grimaces as the motion works the wound on his arm and the pair on his sides. He's immediately set upon with a question, and by the time he's done dealing with that problem, he's forgotten what he was going to do next. And so he goes to seek out Quinn, finding her sunning herself. A little grin quirks his lips, then slowly spreads into something more full and open, taking over his face as he approaches, "Hey Q. You're lookin' a hell of a lot better than I expected after the river." He shrugs a little helplessly, his smile faltering for just a moment before it returns, "Sorry it to me so long."

Hell of a lot better is a relative term. She's still a little more pale than even normal, dark shadows under her eyes, and a bit of the cold sweats. It's not a good look. When she hears him she glances over, smirking a fraction, "I'm alive, that counts for something." She replies, then waves a hand towards the ground next to her, "Have a seat. I heard about this wall."

Grey wouldn't suggest that Quinn wasn't at the top of her game even if he didn't want to get with her. Either something about fellow ex-Cs, or because she's mildly terrifying. It's tough to determine which on a good day. Still, he drops down easily enough, setting a sheathed sword alongside him. "Glad Max was able to get you back here while I was busy…" his smile fades entirely there, and his dark skin goes a little grey, "…cleaning up." Settling back onto his elbows and kicking out his legs before him, he looks over to his fellow ex-Cadet, "I heard they treated you okay?" He's bad at small-talk, and he knows very well that this is what it is.

"They fed us, didn't kill us, and treated the wounds. So I guess that counts as being treated well." Quinn responds, leaning back against a hand to ease some of the stress on her stomach. "I talked to Max." Apparently small talk is just not going to happen. "Mentioned that walls are a dumb idea, we should make traps since they'd be faster, and wouldn't be time and effort intensive if we're going to be attacked soon."

Grey nods as she gets right to the point, opening his mouth to respond, and then she goes back to small talk. He nods slowly, "You think that half of these putzes could go out hunting and come back without running into one of our own traps?" There's a little chuckle alongside the words, and then he adds, "You think I could? The wall's slow, but even if it never gets finished, it's bringin' the camp together, yeah?" And then he goes back to the other topic, the potentially more important topic, "You talked to Max. He tell you he damn near carried you all the way back here? After diving into the fight to get you outta there?" Grey blinks hard, frowning at his own words, at the insanity of building up a theoretical rival, no matter how polite of a rival. "I mean… he told you he liked you, right?"

"I think that it's more viable as a protection than a wall that exhausts resources and individuals, yeah." Quinn replies with a shrug of her shoulders, "And I think people would remember, or they'd get caught on them…not much in between, is there?" As for the rest she just smirks faintly, giving him a long look, "You both are dumbasses." She apparently informed Max of that opinion already. "Yes, he told me. About liking me, and about not getting in your way. You going to tell me the same, and about how amazing he is?"

"Hadn't planned on it." Then again, he just did, so perhaps there's a good reason that a smirk twists Grey's lips in the wake of the statement. "I was figuring I'd just play it cool and ask when you wanted to get back to the talk we said we'd have after Mount Weather." Beat pause, "But I screwed that up pretty good, didn't I?" Grinning over at the young woman, he inquires, "So what makes us such dumbasses?"

"Because you both have to complicate shit." Quinn points out, laying the blame at their feet because it's a lot easier. "I've known Max my whole life, he's the most important thing to me besides me. But I hadn't ever thought about shit going that way, with him…or with anyone until we landed. I just wrote it all off as never going to happen. Now this."

Grey shrugs a little helplessly, "Hey. I'm just here tellin' you that I'm interested in having that conversation. You want to take me up on it, you just let me know." His grin twists up even higher at one corner, nearly swallowing the bottom half of his face, "I could tell you how I damn near went across the river again for you, or how I beat the shit out of three Grounders to help rescue you if it makes you feel better." Laughter bubbles beneath the words, "Hell, I could even tell you how I made peace in the damned camp and got some more folks in on the idea of a Senate." At least it's a better words than 'Council.'

"Max said you were getting people working." Quinn replies with a nod, her hands reaching up to scrub her fingers through her hair before she twists it back from her face, "And that's good. We need some kind of organization in this place…especially with this revelation and shit. The Grounders." She then drops her hands back, giving him a look, "Alright, let's talk."

Nodding, Grey pushes back up off his elbows, gathering his legs under him to sit cross-legged, facing her, "Okay." He pauses, evidently considering his path forward, then goes direction, "You're hot as hell, Q. And you're the type of badass who can keep up with me." He pauses again, and course corrects, "Or who needs someone who can keep up with her. You know what's what, and you keep your head on straight in a crisis. All that's real attractive, if you ask me."

Compliments are not a bad way to go. At least she's now scowling, and that's a good sign, right? Quinn sits up a little straighter, which is a difficult thing to do at the moment. "I don't have to worry about you in a fight, or wonder if you know how to handle yourself. You've got plans, and ideas. But that doesn't much help with the problem in front of me, Max is reliable, good with ideas, and has skills all his own, too." Also…apparently she's got a thing for hardened killers. Who knew?

Every girl likes the bad boys for a while. Thankfully, there's half a dropship full of them. "And still not a single compliment about the looks. You're bound to break a guy's heart, Q." Grey chuckles again, shaking his head and waving off the complaint, "I don't know what's goin' on down here, I don't know what's gonna happen. I'm not talkin' about 'forever one' or some Hallmark bullshit like that." Even if the cards no longer exist, the sentiment certainly does. "I just think you're hot, tough, smart, and interesting, and think that could lead to somethin'. If it does or not, I'll leave that up to you, 'cause I'm also not stupid enough to think any guy's gonna 'claim' you as a trophy."

"I'm not a trophy." In case that needed to be said. Not that she believes that it did, but it never hurts to make certain that some things are voiced. "Look, I don't know what's going to happen either. I'd love to just get laid, and say fuck all these complications, who the hell cares. But I get that other people are a lot less…" She hesitates, not quite going so far as to say she's cold. But she is. "I don't particularly want to fuck up shit with either, one, Max has always been there, even when he was in the Box. Two, I know a winning side when I see it, and you're going places. Plus, you're not that bad looking, either. I'd love to say just free love, and all that shit, no strings. But I'm not stupid enough to think either of you would abide by it."

Grey knew the first point, but he perks up a little at the second, only to wallow into a wryly chuckling, nodding acknowledgement as she goes on, "Yeah. Well, let's start with the point that you're not going to fuck shit up, whether you choose me or…" he grins, "…the other guy. I need allies more than I need a fuckbuddy. My right hand works for that, but it ain't so good at camp meetings." He looks down there, abruptly sobering a bit, "And I already fucked up one friendship 'cause of sex, or no sex, or whatever. I'm not gonna get my panties in a twist if you don't pick me."

"You did?" Quinn lifts a brow very faintly, then thinks about it, trying to see if she can't guess who that was. But, coming up with nothing she instead just decides to ask. "Who?" 'cause if things were already complicated, this can only make it better, right?

Grey shrugs a little helplessly. In for a penny with the whole 'honesty' thing, in for a pound, "Keats." He raises one hand to show how high she is on him, "Yay high. Curly hair. Cute, but in a nerdy, mousy sort of way." Even he's got his limits, though, and he nibbles on a thumbnail a moment before he goes on, "She offered. I said I already had an offer out and didn't want to be an asshole to anyone involved. She didn't take it well."

"You could have fucked her." Quinn shrugs her shoulders a bit, then she lifts a hand, rubbing a knuckle against her eyebrow, "I'd have understood…but I also understand why you didn't. You should let me talk to her, I'll get it sorted out for you."

Grey chuckles at her initial response, "And you wonder why you got two guys chasing you. Hell, I'm surprised the whole damn camp isn't. Guess most of them are goin' for low-hanging fruit." Grunting thoughtfully, he shrugs, "I think we already established that I don't gotta 'let' you do anything for you to do it. Just kinda pissed me off, 'cause there I was tryin' to do the right thing, and I lose someone who's good on a hunt, and who I can talk to without it turning into a bitch-fest about the Ark or Grounders or democracy or who the hell knows what else." His brows furrow a moment, "You didn't go all Stocking Home Syndrome on the Grounders too, did you, Q?"

"No." Quinn shakes her head, "I'm all for more dead ones. And sure, it sucks. I have total sympathy for your position, but it's not a total loss. Just got to talk to her and work shit out. Fix it between you two, you both get laid. You get a hunting partner back again, and someone that doesn't bite your head off every time you open your mouth. Those things are important, I get it. Neither you nor Max argue with me, but you're also both open with your opinions. It's valuable these days. If you can get laid on top of that? Bonus."

Grey snorts again, "Fix all you want, but I'm still a one-gal kind of guy. The Grey family name may get shit thrown at me," not literally but some days… it was close, "but I'm not gonna give anyone any illusions 'bout what's goin' on. You're top of my list, Q, and unless you decide to turn those baby blues over to Maxie, I'll hold off bumpin' uglies with anyone else." And then he shrugs, "Even if it'd be better than Rosy Palm and the five finger sisters. Okay, you almost got me convinced. Almost. All take all the rest if you can manage it, with a hold on the bonus for now."

"Can I have everything?" Quinn might be joking, but she might not be. However, she doesn't linger for an answer, instead she nods, "I can fix the rest. Just have to track her down, hopefully she's somewhere close 'cause I can't go too far before I want to puke. And puking hurts right now."

"Hey, whoever gets this prize," Grey nods down to his own damn self, "gets everything." And then his grin flashes broad and proud, "And don't you wish you had everything right about now? Or maybe as soon as you can move without puking." That should probably have been said more gently, with less of a sarcastic, teasing edge, but he is his mother's son in some ways. Shaking the words off, he nods out towards the woods, "You want a walking stick? Someone ended up with one or two of your spears after the river, I bet I could get that back for you. Feel good to have a real weapon in your hands again?" Yeah, he went there, complete with a waggling of his eyebrows.

Quinn smirks faintly at that, rolling her eyes, "Yes, it'd feel good to have a real weapon in my hands again." She drawls out, but then glances absently towards the woods, "But no walking stick…can't let anyone see me needing help. They might get ideas." Even if that means she's limiting herself in range. She then glances at him, frowning a little more seriously, "I don't know, I didn't plan on having to choose between two guys. I feel like…either choice is risking a friendship that's important, but not choosing is bad. And fuck waiting around for a decision…I'm a bitch, but not evil."

Grey gestures slightly back toward his tent, "Then why not a spear? No harm in walkin' around with a spear, or leaning on one when you're standing around. Hell, even I do that, and no one's ever accused me of being soft or weak. An asshole, yeah, but not soft." But then things get serious again, and he shrugs, "Someone's gonna be pissed off and disappointed, but they'll get over it. We're both big boys." With a laugh and a wink, he adds, "Or at least one of us is."

"Maybe that's how I should choose…whoever has the biggest dick." Quinn replies with a smirk, then she glances towards the tent he indicates, frowning, "Fine, a spear. Maybe I can use it to stab someone if they get the wrong idea."

Grey nods sagely at her smirking rejoinder, as if it was the greatest wisdom in the world. "Then I'll tell you what. I'll go get you a spear, and then I'll screw off and get back to work and stop bothering you." His eyebrows rise up sharply, "Unless you've got anything actually important to talk about." That nonchalance would go over better if his left hand hadn't risen up so that he could take a nibble at a fingernail at the end.

"You can tell me about this Senate idea." Quinn points out, since that seems to be a fairly important thing, "And what are people's ideas on how to actually deal with these Grounder's if they show up looking for their shit. Pretty sure a half made wall isn't going to stop them."

Grey nods slowly, "Senate's the easy one. It's Cam's name for the idea we had, more or less. Everyone votes for who's on it though, and people can be voted off. So it's not as secure as what we had in mind, but without guns…?" The ex-Cadet shrugs helplessly, "Good news is, he's real solid on not caring if there's diversity on the Senate, so if there are two or three ex-Cs voted on, we're golden there. Just gotta win hearts and minds, as Sergeant Valon used to say." The Grounder question is… more comlex, perhaps, and he thinks a moment before answering, "I promised Princess Tesla that we'd try diplomacy after we got our people back. That's what it cost to get her support. So we're gonna try to find out what we can about them from our prisoners, without makin' things physical, and then hope they're in a mood to talk when they get here. We scattered the bodies, so I'm hopin' that they just figure they couldn't find the missing two. Unless someone comes up with a magic armory, I think that might be our best bet anyhow."

"What about the ones that you killed? They were all armed…it's not guns, but it's better than hunks of metal and sticks, right?" She slides her hands into her hair again, frowning, "Not sure about winning people over…but might work. Either way, it's a start." She seems to jump back and forth between the topics, which is fairly unusual for her. "Has anyone questioned them yet?"

Grey nods, "Yeah, we've got a couple of swords, a couple of bows, an axe, another spear." He hefts up the sheathed blade from beside him to demonstrate, offering it out to her, "The ones who made the kill got first dibs. The rest are going to community property, but I figure we'll have to keep an eye on 'em to keep 'em from being Traced," that would be the Delinquent who claimed the survival kit's hatchet upon launch. "And no, I just got in a big-ass argument with Morgan and Devin and Ruth and Asher and Silas and Fiona about that. Morgan, Devin, and Ruth are being protective as hell of the prisoners. I've got a couple of reliable folks up there with them now," he blinks, remembering something, "Oh shit. I was going to go spell one of them. But yeah, no one's started yet. Wanted to set down some ground-rules first. I'm worried about those idiots tryin' to free 'em or something like that."

"Where are they holding them? I'll see if they wont let me through.." Considering the list of those that are protecting them she figures she might have a good shot. Maybe. "I'd also like a sword." She starts to try and haul herself up to her feet, gritting her teeth in the process. "We don't have time to waste protectin' peoples fuckin' feelings."

Grey smirks faintly, "Oh no. I got Miles and Katie," the two 'reliables,' "up with the Grounders. At the top of the dropship. Everyone else was bitching about it down on the second level." He hesitates a moment, then shrugs, offering out the blade again, "I'll get another one from the stack. If I can't, I'll stick with my club. It was enough to do for this jackhole, after all." As she starts to rise, he stands as well, offering out a hand that he's pretty sure she's going to refuse.

Normally, she would. But at the moment, even she has to admit that she's having trouble, so she accepts both the hand, and the sword when he offers it. "Good…don't need them being let loose. When you go to question them, and it should be soon, I'd like to be there if I can."

Grey leans back a little to help pull her to her feet. Straightening back up, he takes half a step back to keep just that little bubble of personal space between them. Her request, however, draws a light snort from him, "You and half the rest of the camp. I figure everyone who wants it'll get a chance in the next day or two. Thought I might put like… a sign-up sheet on the side of the dropship or something." He shakes his head in a bit of wonder, "You'd think they both had beer-flavored nipples. But yeah, I'll make sure you get up there, as much as I can anyone."

"Why would half the camp need to see them?" Quinn rolls her eyes just a little, straightening up very slowly, "We're questioning them to deal with their people, not staring at them like fuckin' novelties." She tilts her head a bit, frowning at him, "You keep moving away…you ever notice that?"

"Everyone's curious, everyone thinks they can break 'em…" And then Grey blinks at the question that follows, "I do?" Apparently, it's entirely unconscious, because he's definitely not that good of a liar. He looks down at the space between them, and then shrugs, taking a definitive step closer to her. It's close enough that he could probably encircle her shoulders with his arms if he raised them, and except for a miniscule tightening of his shoulders, he doesn't seem to have any problem with it, "I'm certainly not tryin' to." His voice has lowered with those words, both in volume and pitch, a little smile touching one corner of his lips… but the faint tension remains in his shoulders.

"I'm sure you aren't." Quinn replies, a brow lifting before she glances down at how far his feet are from her now, then back up, "You should give shit a shot with Keats." She tucks the sword carefully under one arm, leaning towards him, "I remember who she is, I think. The one that helps Max with the plants, right?" She shakes her head a bit, "I think…we might be too similar for this to work for the long run. And you're a one-gal only kind of guy…I don't want to spoil you for anyone else."

Probably good that she said that, because Grey had just noticed how close their respective heights and his stance had brought her face to his, and his eyes had dropped to her lips. The words, however, draw a blink from the man, a tiny little wince around the eyes, and then a flash of anger that follows. He swallows once, then shrugs, doing his best to play it off, "Yeah. Hanne Keats. Ee-Ess nerd, but not a spaz or anything." The lean toward him causes him to start to lean back unconsciously, only for his spine to stiffen, and he leans forward as well, so that they're likely to end up almost nose to nose, "If that's your call, that's your call." His voice is a bit rough there as well, "He hurts you, I'll beat up whatever the hell is left after you kick the crap out of him. Lemme know when you feel like hauling your ass up the ladders to see the Grounders."

As oblivious as she can sometimes be to people's feelings, being this close it's hard to miss that wince, or the flash of anger. "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd choose both." It's about as close to admitting her inability to actually make up her mind as she's likely to get, or that she's trying to play the same nice guy hand that Max and he played with each other earlier. "I like her, she's solid. Reliable. Seems to have a good head on her shoulders, from what I've seen." Which is a rather resounding level of praise from her. Instead of being smart, and stepping back after it's all pretty well laid out there, she leans forward towards him and makes that move that he might have considered before she went and imploded the whole thing. She leans right in to try for that kiss if he holds still long enough for it.

No one has ever accused Lucian Grey of being smart. He shrugs a little at her placating words, perhaps even agreeing with her assessment of Hanne. And when she leans in to close the distance, he reciprocates. One hand even comes up toward the back of her head, aiming to settle just above the nape of her neck. His head tilts to welcome the press of lips, and his move against hers, pouring the frustration born of her choice into the kiss. He holds it for a good long count if she'll allow it, ten seconds, fifteen, and then straightens up again, his eyes opening to meet hers and a little challenging smile touching one corner of his mouth.

This is how we say goodbye in Western Virginia.

First, she probably shouldn't have kissed him. Second, she probably shouldn't have let it linger. Neither smart thing was done. When the kiss is broken she starts to lean back, tip of her tongue doing an absent dance across the bottom of her lip before she notices that smile. She squints for a split second, trying to figure out just what the hell it means, but then gives up fairly quickly to instead ask, "What?"

Grey shrugs a little helplessly, finally loosing the hand from the back of her neck and stepping back, "Just remember what you're missin'." He brushes his own bottom lip with a thumb, that grin only spreading before he can clamp it down. "I should go change outta my Grounder-shirt and get up there. See you 'round, Q."

"Yeah, I'll cry myself to sleep at night." Quinn replies with a smirk, shaking her head at him before she starts to head back to the hole she crawled out of, "I'll go talk to Keats for you, make sure that she can forgive your dumb ass for being a surprisingly noble idiot."

Grey laughs easily at the rejoinder, "Take your time. Just about now, I ain't got time to do anything but sleep in my tent anyhow." He nods upwards once more, and then turns to head back to his tent.

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