"Seriously?" Gabriel looked up from his textbook, annoyed, as Quinn's phone vibrated again. It had been doing that all week.
Innocently, Quinn asked, "What?"
"He's a TA. Don't you think it's a little inappropriate to be texting him?" Gabe returned.
"So? We're just talking about," she hesitated, "Physics."
He made a noise of disbelief. "Mhm. Don't you think it's a moral gray area to get involved with a person of authority in your department. Even if he's not a TA in any of your classes, it's still wrong."
"I had a sexual affair with your girlfriend. This is probably a step in the right direction," Quinn answered.
"Are you going to keep throwing that in my face?" Gabe replied.
"Only when you piss me off," Quinn answered.
"I wish I could do that thing you do, where I mutter angrily in another language, but I only know English, and enough Italian to keep the police from arresting me."
"I know enough Italian to keep you from getting arrested," Quinn corrected, "It's what your mom used to pay me for when we went abroad. Also, to make sure you don't do drugs."
"You're just her little spy. I see now, you've always been to me what Brutus was to Caesar," Gabe dramatized, "You're my little Judas."
Over in the kitchen, Sara was jumping up and down, trying to reach a strainer for pasta, on the top shelf of the cabinet. "Why are the things we use the most, always on the top shelf," she wondered aloud. Leaving her studies, Quinn moved from the table, and past the couch where Daniel and Smith sat, and into the kitchen. Though the TV was on, both boys had their heads turned toward Sara, as she jumped up, and down.
Quinn grabbed the mop out of the closet, poked upwards at the strainer, and brought it down carefully, with the mop speared through the strainer's handle. "They do that so they can see our boobs bounce," Quinn pointed to Sara's generous breasts. Sara's mouth opened in realization, and she shot a glare at the boys, who quickly turned back to the TV.
"Quinn. Bring some pasta when you come back," Gabe called.
As if she hadn't heard him, Quinn went back to her seat. Gabe poked her, "Hey, where's my pasta."
Quinn shrugged, "I was going to get it, but then I wouldn't be your little judas."
Heavily, he sighed, and got out of his chair. He came back with two bowls of pasta, and slid one before her.
"I'm not hungry. Eating makes me tired, and sluggish when I try to do my work right after it."
"Hey, roses are red, violets are blue, if you don't eat this, your ass will be too," he threatened.
"Imagine if Simon said that to me, what would you do?" she asked.
"Beat him up, put him in a package, and send him back to Brazil,"
"So what makes it okay for you?"
Evilly, Gabe grinned, leaning forward, and beckoning her to do the same. Even though she knew by his toothy smile, that she wasn't going to like it, Quinn leaned forward. When she was close, he murmured, "Right of ownership."
She took the dish of pasta, and flung it down the table so that the steamy noodles fell on his shirt, and his lap, before storming from the table.
She had a page of notes hanging from a pipe in the laundry room, by means of a clothes hanger. Looking down at her laundry, she tried to repeat the information on her notes. Suddenly, she found herself against the wall, her neck being caressed by soft lips.
"Sara," she moaned.
"Sh," Sara said.
"Are we still doing this?" Quinn breathed, trying to find some distance between her and Sara, who's hands explored all over Quinn's body.
"Why not? We've already been caught, plaything," Sara breathed, her fingertips running rampant beneath Quinn's shirt, making her skin fell supercharged.
"Mistress," Quinn murmured, closing her eyes as Sara's lips worked magic, "Goddess." Suddenly, Quinn's eyes opened. She pressed against Sara's chest, "Sara, no."
Grabbing the hands that pushed her away, Sara pinned them against the wall, "You don't make that decision, kitten."
Quinn struggled against Sara's body. "Please."
"I love it when you struggle," Sara told Quinn.
"Sara," Quinn moaned, "Please, no."
"I thought you wanted to worship me," Sara murmured.
"I do," Quinn whined Sara nibbled at Quinn's ear, hard enough that she elicited a cry of pain. "But I don't want to want it."
"Then tell me what you want," Sara fingernails warningly dragged up Quinn's back, until Sara's hand grabbed sharply onto Quinn's hair. In Quinn's hear, Sara hissed, "Then tell me what you do want?"
"I want you to love me, punish me, fuck me," Quinn winced against the pain of taught strands of hair. "I want to worship you. I want you to let me go."
Sara pulled away. It was so hard, because she loved the way Quinn was so weak, how she melted against a dominant touch, and how she could beg incessantly. Smoothing Quinn's hair, Sara softly muttered, "Very good, querida. Very good."
Quinn stayed pinned to the wall, watching Sara leave. Pushing all her clothes in the hamper, Quinn also grabbed the hanger with her notes, and bolted from the laundry room.
She was studying on the dock, at the lake. Her notes were spread out around her, but her head was resting on her textbook. Maybe the information would just float in her head, and stay in her head. Leaning against her backpack was the teddy bear that said you can do it. She picked up the rubber duck, and gave it a squeeze. It squeaked, and Quinn laughed.
The phone in her backpack vibrated. Moving to her knees, she plucked it from the front pocket. There was a text from Simon that she had missed when she first left the house, but the newest one was from her cousin Helena, telling Quinn that Helena was on her way back from the airport. Almost three months ago, she'd gone to Brazil to visit her fiancé's family. She'd come back for a short time, but it wasn't long before quickly went to Portugal so her fiancé could meet her family. Now she was back, and she wanted Quinn to meet someone. Not just a someone, a man. She texted something back, dumped the phone back in her backpack, and began to back up her notes
There was the sound of thumping on the hardwood. Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, and a heavy force knocked her off the dock, and into the water.
Her eyes were closed before she was plunged into the cold water. Rising to the surface, she punched the perpetrator without identifying him first. "Gabe," she huffed, wiping water from her eyes. "Why?"
He bobbled to keep his head above the water. "Because I couldn't resist."
She made a noise of disparagement, and started moving to the dock.
"No, stay," Gabe asked.
"We're not supposed to be in the lake," Quinn said.
"It's not like there's radioactive waste in it," Gabe replied. "Stay." He reached out for Quinn, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and rested her head against his shoulder, both their legs kicking in the water. The temperature was easier to bear now. "Quinn," he stared, and she lifted her head to hear what he had to say. He put his mouth on hers, and she let him enter, only because she wanted to slide her tongue inside his mouth, and hungrily explore. They pulled away, and Quinn was glad she was already covered in drops of water, in case her eyes decided to become wet on their own.
"Gabe, I don't want to be a toy," she whispered. "I'm not a plaything."
"I don't want you to be either, " he returned.
She sighed, "Then what am I to you?" He didn't say anything. Or maybe he didn't have the chance before they were interrupted.
"You kids know there's no swimmin' in my lake," the park ranger said. He was an older man, old enough to have wrinkles and white hair, but he was still sprightly enough.
"Yes, sir," Quinn answered.
"Then why am I constantly finding you too in the middle of my lake," the old park ranger said.
"Because it's in between midterms and finals?" Quinn piqued.
"It was either a cold shower, or take her clothes off," Gabe nipped Quinn's shoulder. Her eyes bulged, and her cheeks flushed, like a cooked crab. "We thought you'd appreciate this more." He grinned, and winked at the man. Just moments earlier, when Gabe had walked up, he'd been stopped by a ranger, who was sitting in a rocking chair, beneath the boathouse. "Isn't that your girl?"
"Yes, sir," Gabe said with twinkling eyes.
"She's overtook my dock," he said.
"Yeah. It's almost time for finals," Gabe said apologetically, "She goes a little overboard."
"Hm," the park ranger ranger said. "Maybe you should do something about that."
"Sure thing, sir," Gabe started towards the dock, the ranger calling after him, "But don't you be swimming in my lake, you hear?"
"We'll get out now," Quinn said. Gabe put his hand against her cheek to stop her, and gave her another kiss.
"Looks like you need colder waters, boy," the park ranger said.
"Going," Quinn answered, swimming quicker than a frightened minnow, moving quickly to the dock.