June 30th, 2021

0800 hours

"Okay, big shot Federal Agent. I'll bite." Robyn scoffed, tapping her trainer-clad foot. Quinn's eyes hadn't left her form since she'd stepped foot in his peripheral. The unashamed look that glazed slightly over his eyes as he took in her long, tanned legs unnerved her. The last time a man had gazed that intently at her body he'd been making love to her, and it had been her fiancé.

"Quinn!" She hissed, snapping her fingers by her thigh. "My eyes are up here."

The devastatingly handsome detective jerked his head up, pulled his eyes begrudgingly from the spans of bare, smooth skin that peeked from under her faded cutoff shorts.

"Miss Bourke." He greeted jovially, inky eyes holding her blue ones in a steady gaze. "My apologies. I was merely admiring how stunning you look in those sneakers."

Robin snorted loudly. "You summoned me?" She said crossly, folding her arms protectively over her chest.

"Yes, I did, though I wasn't expecting you to be so antagonistic." His smirk was taunting, engaging, as he egged her on.

"I didn't have a choice in the matter." She growled. "You arrested me, threatened me, and blackmailed me into getting my help. Then, your agent-"

"Gordon." He said

"What?"

"The agent. His name is Gordon."

"Gordon, then. Your agent, Gordon-" she huffed, peeved at his interruption "practically held me at gunpoint until I acquiesced to your humble request." Her tone dripped of sarcasm, and she had an inexplicable urge to curtsey at the infuriating man.

"Embellishment doesn't suit you, Miss Bourke. I'm sure he was quite respectful."

She snorted again and didn't attempt to hide her disbelief. Quinn seemed to bring out the most animalistic of responses in her. "And you would be the expert in respect, then?"

"Always." He answered. Somehow, he had crossed the several yards between them and come to stand directly in front of her. She didn't remember him moving closer, but contributed her lack of concentration to his infuriatingly superior character. She found his charisma unnerving: it undid the very sound mind she had tried so hard to maintain through the years. Not to mention those eyes; the deep grey orbs looked into her rather than at her, as if he could read her subconscious. Everything that made Robyn: each single thought and defining moment, the most integral memories, her core values and beliefs; she felt that her entirety was laid out on a table with him standing over it, dissecting her.

Robyn shivered uncomfortably, despite her resolve not to let him get under her skin, but his sharp eyes noticed this and gleamed in triumph.

"Are you always so impertinent?" He asked mockingly.

"Do you make it a point to piss off everyone you speak to?" She growled.

"That was far from my intent."

"Oh, no." Robyn threw her hands in the air in frustration. "No, your mission is to intimidate everyone into compliance. I'll bet you don't have any friends with that mentality."

Quinn blinked and placed a calming hand on her forearm. "Generally speaking, yes, that is my goal. Though my innate nature does help my cause, plundering the fragile human psyche for investigatory gain is my job description."

"The query of your job description wasn't what I was referring to." Robyn lowered her arms and gazed inquisitively at him. "You didn't answer my inferred question."

Quinn let out a hearty guffaw and she jerked back, astounded by the sudden show of elation. His whole body shook with mirth, and his chuckling echoed over the rig, causing many of the workers to raise their heads from their duties, their confused eyes scanning wildly for the jubilant sound. He laughed so long she began to grow angry, upset he was laughing at her.

"What's so damn funny?"

"You, my dear Robyn." He stated, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "You have undone me."

"How so?" She said tentatively, eyeing the striking man before her.

"You are brilliant." Quinn admitted, gazing at her in wonder. "To be honest, I've never met anyone quite like you."

"Um...thank you." Robyn said uneasily. He's insane, she thought, taking a small step back. He noticed this and squeezed her arm slightly in reassurance.

"Seriously, I mean it. You are a wonder: I've never met anyone who can match me in a game of wits. I like that."

Robyn felt a blush creep over her cheeks at the compliment as he continued. "My sincerity is not, nor has ever been, questioned. You truly are a gem, Miss Bourke."

She stared. Her shocked eyes penetrated his for so long he shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat. "You know, this is the point in polite conversation where one would offer a word of appreciation for receiving such a notable compliment."

"Oh!" She gasped, jerking out of her trance, cheeks still flushed. "Uh, thanks?" Robyn shook her head chidingly. "You know that last part right there, where you remind one of proper etiquette in social situations? That is why you have no friends."

"Indeed." He said lightly, tipping his head in defeat. "You have bested me, I'm ashamed to admit. This, Robyn, is why I know I need you on my team."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she was overly aware of the small space between them. I need you...the words resounded in her head, bouncing around mental images of them passionately embraced. Quinn smirked as her breath shuddered, her eyelids fluttering shut. He had her now. She was putty in his hands, pliable, willing to do his bidding. Yet a small twinge of guilt lingered in his subconscious: this was a woman of natural beauty and superior intelligence, eager to please but also reserved, hot headed and level at the same time. She was a conundrum, which in Quinn's mind was perfect: people who were too predictable, too uniform, and too sincere were not on his level, mentally speaking. This was a capable specimen, the kind he hadn't met the likes of before. The phrase 'one you bring home to the parents' came to mind. This realization made him twinge with pleasure, but he shook off the premonitory urge with a soft shake of his head.

"You don't need me." She said quietly.

"Yes, I do." He stated resolutely, noting the way her legs shifted against one another. "You have a brilliant mind, Miss Bourke: I expect your level of intelligence is quite on par."

Her eyes shot open and she glared. This was a very cocky, dangerous man, in more ways than one. "There's that self-righteous reveling we are all so thrilled to accommodate." She scoffed, angry that he'd made her feel so insignificant.

"It's not accommodating, but I am highly intelligent, and as such, very effective." He winked.

"You don't need me. You're self-indulgent, you play people like violins in the Trans-Siberian orchestra, and you never cease to remind others why they should be kissing your ass. Perhaps I don't need you." She decided, whirling around with the intention to march off the rig and never look back.

Quinn opened his mouth, attempting to refute her accusation, but the longer his slack jaw hung, the harder he struggled to find an adequate counter argument. He settled on "Actually, as it happens, I know how to play the violin."

Unfortunately, his banter presented itself as boasting, though for intents and purposes he had just been blurting out the most relevant fact he could think of to keep her from leaving.

Robyn spun again, sidling up in front of him, face screwed up in a look akin to extreme disbelief. A slight flash of disappointment flitted through her eyes as she gazed sadly into his. "You are so unbelievably full of yourself. I remember, if I'm not mistaken," she began, placing a dismissive hand on his chest "that Icarus died because of pride. Which, incidentally, is one of the deadly sins. Keep in mind, that story was created well before the rise of Christianity. It would seem that pride is a universally acknowledged evil."

"Do enlighten me." Quinn raised an eyebrow, his interest in Robyn rising exponentially. He wasn't used to conversation actually engaging him in this manner.

"'The boy began to delight in his daring flight, and abandoning his guide, drawn by desire for the heavens, soared higher. His nearness to the devouring sun softened the fragrant wax that held the wings: and the wax melted.'"

Quinn blinked in surprise but retained his composure, never missing a beat as he countered "'He flailed with bare arms, but losing his oar-like wings, could not ride the air.'"

Robyn scoffed. She had expected him to understand that reference, all the same: on some disturbed, indigent level she wanted to equate herself with him. It would give her no greater pleasure than to prove her equivalency; better yet, she would love to one up him.

Quinn was gazing at her with an air of amusement. It pissed her off, that damn insolent stare. What made him think himself above her?

"He drowned because he was too vain to recognize his own stupidity." She almost snarled, giving his firm chest a soft shove.

Quinn grinned moronically and gently shoved her back. "Yes, he did." He could almost feel the heat of her anger washing over him. Her hand shook forcefully on his pectorals. He was certain it wasn't behaving that way because of his toned body, and he wondered briefly what a game of chess with her would be like. Definitely as engaging as this, he thought, excitement surging through his body.

"I hope we don't." She grumbled, her nose almost touching his now, unable to mask the frustration on her face. Quinn noticed her eyes widened, the pupils growing larger when she was upset.

"What, drown? We won't." He assured her, voice dripping with confidence. "I see you know your Ovid. That's rather impressive."

She watched his blue eyes twinkling teasingly. They were only blue when the two were arguing amicably, otherwise, they usually held a steely coal color, sometimes gray or brilliant silver, but never blue. The angrier he seemed, the darker they got. "Thank you hardly seems the appropriate response. You are impossible."

"Why?"

"Even when it seems you are giving a compliment, or encouragement, you come across as completely sovereign!"

"Compared to a vast majority of homo sapiens-"

"Go jump off a cliff, Quinn." Robyn tried to wrench her arm from his, but he held on resolutely.

"I wasn't referring to you. In fact, I do believe that your intellectual capabilities may hover around my range of intelligence."

"I'm leaving." She stated. "This is why: you ooze disdain with every word you utter. You think that last statement was a compliment. It wasn't! Around your range? How do you know I'm not on the intellectual level you are?"

"I haven't looked at any of your standardized test scores." He said simply.

Robyn blinked. "Well at least you haven't completely invaded my privacy."

"Oh, you misunderstand. I have them; they just haven't been analyzed." He corrected.

"Right, now I'm leaving." She hissed, attempting to dislodge her wrist from his steady grip.

"I need you, Robyn." He whispered, eyes pleading with hers, showing his latent emotions. So he is human, she thought, her heart sinking slightly with sympathy.

"Why?"

"You-you are my wings. I find myself pulled back to reality in your presence. You keep me humbled. Please." He begged, hands holding her wrist loosely. She stared at his long, pale fingers latched onto her tanned skin and she felt her body sagging with defeat at his pleading stare and handsome features.

"If this is you humbled, I'd hate to see you unrestricted. That would have been nearly apologetic, had I not known you. I'm sure I'll regret this later, but...okay." She whispered, turning back toward him. "I'll help you."

"Good," he said softly "I really could use your brain."

"I'm glad to be of assistance." She said, voice rather robotic as she let him pull her toward a more secluded part of the platform. "Plus, you would throw me in the can, if I didn't."

"To answer your earlier question," Quinn started solemnly, "I don't have any friends. Though it really isn't your place to critique that particular facet of my existence." A sad gleam passed through his gaze and left just as quickly, like a whisper on the breeze.

Robyn felt embarrassment flood over her body. He was right: she didn't have any right to ask that and should have been less privy to the answer, but he'd given her a reply, and that was reason enough for her to believe him capable of human emotion.

She nodded in agreement, noticing the tension ease a bit between them. An unspoken pact was formed; Quinn had admitted mortality, and she had tactfully taken the admission of defeat, giving her word to assist him. Robyn felt a quiet premonition sinking into her mind. She was committed now, and that was evident in Quinn's eyes as she met his. There was no backing out of this. He cleared his throat and parted his lips to speak, eyes casting downward sheepishly.

"Can I say something without you biting my head off?"

"Sure." She sighed, sitting on a step near them with a hollow thump.

"Your knowledge of Greek mythology is rather remarkable. I was very pleased."

Robyn almost smiled, at the least, the corner of her lip had twitched upward. "Thanks. Just don't melt your wings."

Quinn winked. "That I can't promise."

"I mean it. I don't want to drown."

"Figuratively?"

"No. Not literally, either."

"Definitely not." Quinn let out a soft laugh. "That wouldn't do. A marine biologist dying in the very environment that defines her career? How untoward."

His laugh was cut short by a sharp jab to his ribs, courtesy of Robyn's elbow.

Silence settled over the unlikely pair, the sun drifting lazily up the horizon, casting brilliant hues of pink and orange over the sparkling water.

"Did you know the word for pride, in ancient Greek, was-"

Again, a harsh jab to his ribs by an obnoxiously sharp elbow shut him up.

"Hubris." Robyn said, casting a loathing sideways look at him.

"I wasn't aware that you knew." He continued, rubbing his side. She had a damn resilient body despite her thin frame, and he found himself in awe of her strength.

"Shut up for a second and quit analyzing me." She said, eyes glued to the rainbow colored horizon. "Watch the world rise."

"What?" Quinn whipped his head to look at her. As he observed the tones of the dawning light dance over her impish features, he understood what she meant. After a few moments he shifted his gaze to the twinkling water. The sun was higher, lingering over the water now, casting brilliant orange and purple hues over the gentle waves, sparkling with a hopeful arrival, as if promising that vast expanse an equally enthralling coupling with the future sunset.

"I see what you mean." He said lowly, eyes zooming between her relaxed features and the merging elements of the sea and sky as they mated and became one, a violet blaze blurring the two into one glorious presence.

"Isn't it beautiful?" She breathed, eyes shut, face turned toward the wind, allowing it to caress her upturned cheeks. Her rapture with the simplicity of nature both bewildered and enthralled him. It was as if she was part of it, the simplistic, raw beauty of a world left untainted by human involvement.

"Indubitably." He agreed euphorically, but it wasn't the ocean that had captured his attention.