𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨 | in which a normal, dreary, woman has greatness thrust upon her, and with it an instructor who is not a perfect soldier but a good man.
Join Quinn, a lowly I.T. at S.H.I.E.L.D., as her already chaotic domestic life gets throw...
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"LOOK AT ALL the lights!" Robin hums with excitement next to her in the leather seat of the back of the taxi. She pressed her face up against the glass window, peering up at all the skyscrapers that were lit up due to the darkness. Her silver sequined dress scratched up against the seat making an uncomfortable noise, causing Quinn to wince at the sound.
Robin had been fussing around in the back of the taxi since they got in, looking left and right out of the windows as if she had never seen the city before. She could've sworn she was on something with how childlike she was presenting herself. Honestly, besides Jo, she couldn't imagine taking anyone else.
Although, she would've brought Anthony, had he been to work in the last couple of days. Ever since she had gifted him with the knowledge of her past at S.H.I.E.L.D. he's been M.I.A. She couldn't help but fear that she had dropped a bombshell on him, especially since he had opened up to her about wanting to see Adriana more. Having her as a character witness probably wasn't a good idea, with her past of being unwillingly affiliated with Hydra, it made her look like a sleeper agent who could be called to action at any moment.
Hydra was still around. Or at least she thought they were. Even though she was on her way to a soiree where they were celebrating the confiscation of the scepter, she knew that somewhere out there, there were more Hydra agents. As their name implies, cut off one head, two more emerge.
It was all a tangled web that she had entrapped Anthony in. Having him look at her as if she were a monster was the last thing she wanted to do. However, if it benefited him in transferring out of the investigations department and into the profiling department then so be it. He'd be able to see Adriana more, hopefully, since his job would be sitting behind a desk and interviewing agents or police officers, and giving descriptions on who they think would've committed the crime. Psychics is what she had been taught to call them by Anthony.
"You don't look excited to be going to this party," Robin notes, placing her index finger on the corner of Quinn's dark mauve-shaded lip, which she quickly batted away. Granted, working in a facility that forced her to dress up every day, and having someone to look good for, had encouraged her to start working on her makeup skills more, she didn't want Robin to smudge her hard work. She had worked tirelessly on her hair as well, instead of the usual ponytail it was in, it had been placed in a low bun with a messy but identifiable braid twisted into it.
"I'm fine," Quinn responds in a low tone, not wanting to talk about her worries and frustrations about Anthony. Though she knew at some point if he continued to dodge her presence, she'd have no choice but to confide in her roommate - especially since she was tutoring his nephew. Robin lets out a small grumbling hum in response before returning her gaze towards the window. Even she didn't want to get wrapped up in it at the time.
