Fighting Instincts

Chapter Fifteen - Enter Quinn

Everything was changing so rapidly. I found I was comparing the smallest of things. At this moment, I couldn't help the comparisons of Walker and my father. Polar opposites in both looks and attitude. I knew my father loved me, and there were times he had told me just that, mostly when I was younger and in need of reassurance. He had a very minimal impact in my life. As like most of his beliefs, he was a stubborn and traditional man. Mother's raised their daughters. If I had been a male, I would have the father and son connection I felt missing at times. I did not get comfort from my father much, unless he was praising me from across the room for a job well done. On the other hand Walker was like the mother and father role all in one. His hugs had been warm and welcoming. His praises fell from his tongue as often as rain in the spring. I would miss my father, his insights, his random talks, and how he had saved me all those years ago and gave me the home I needed. Nevertheless I had a little less of a heartache thanks to Walker.

“Sylvaline,” Walker spoke in his gruff yet gentle voice, “meet Quinn.”

Quinn held out his hand. I noted the very immaculate, clean, and clear polished nails. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said as she shook my hand firmly. “Hugs are usually my thing, but I find around Walker they only piss him off, so you will have to excuse my rudeness.”

I smiled, not sure what to say to the very speedy speaking male. His eyes were vivid grey, behind a pair of red glasses matching the red suit he wore. This was a very well tailored suit, even I could tell without any fashion experience.

“Thank you for coming,” I said hesitantly. “I think it might be a little of an exaggeration for just a dress.”

“Darling, no, fashion is always an emergency. You can never be too careful when it comes to clothes. It's just too bad this lug canceled the meeting at Molly's. I had such a selection available. Nevertheless, I know a few places here that will accommodate your juicy curves. Shall we?”

He rose and grabbed a couple of my bags. He peeked in and frown. “Oh dear... “ he looked mortified, like something rotten had crawled into his mouth. He peeked into another bag, “this just won't do.”

“Quinn,” Walker snapped. “These are for comfort. She likes them. Don't start.” The larger male puffed out his body. He looked prepared to fight Quinn. The short sentences made it feel as if Walker was speaking to a child needing precised instructions.

“Oh very well. I do believe we should pick up a few other things, though. Or perhaps I can order a couple of things after we get your color choices and sizes worked out. I could have them delivered.”

“Thank you, Quinn, but I don't need a lot of clothes. I am not here for long,” I said. I had grown up with a voice reminding me never waste anything. Time included. I couldn't ask for their hard earned money to be wasted on things I might never need. Nor did I wish to make more work for them.

Quinn sighed, but there was a gleam to his eyes. This man is a troublemaker. No wonder Xena likes him.

Quinn did help in finding something I felt comfortable wearing. It was a great fit around my chest and still hugged me enough around the waist to give me shaply curves instead of looking like a whale. He found a few other dresses, but I insisted on the first one being the only one I needed. I noted one other dress was wrung in despite my efforts. Thankfully, both men were okay with me purchasing my own underwear and bras. Walker offered the card when all was said and done. They didn't look uncomfortable in the story, but they didn't fit in either.

I grabbed a few personal items from the pharmacy and declared I was finished. Quinn grinned. “Not the longest shopping trip but very well worth it. I can't wait to get you dolled up sometime. You and Xena shall be my partnered canvas for the next gathering. With more time, I can play with complementing color palates. Or maybe play with shading. Good girl, bad girl or...”

Quinn was so far gone in his own personal conversation I wasn't sure how he was making his way to the car without running into anything. Walker was fisting his hands on the bag handles, an attempt not to smuck the man over the head again, like he had when Quinn had been fighting me about a strapless dress I didn't think I would pull off. He unlocked the door, had all the bags in the back, and was pushing me into the car when Quinn reentered reality.

“Ah, speaking of, can we make a quick stop on the way home?” Quinn asked as he opened the back door.

“You can make a quick stop any time. You have your own car.”

“Uh, no, I don't. You called me when I was dropping Di off. It was closer for me to be dropped off, so Di took my car.”

Walker's jaw tightened, and he let out a frustrated “just my luck.”

“Just in and out. I promise.”

“Nothing is in and out for you. I either drop you off, or I can take you to the pack house.”

Quinn shrugged. “Drop me off, I am sure someone will pity my brute of a packmate and give me a ride home.” If he was hoping for pity from Walker, he didn't get it.

Quinn's destination turned out to be a modern style mansion inside a gated community. We didn't stick around long, but Quinn was quick to point out important names of people living in the area as we passed their houses. I didn't recognize a single name. He jumped out of the Jeep and waved broadly before casually climbing the front steps. Walker didn't wait before pulling out of the driveway and heading the way we entered the neighborhood.

“Uh, Di, is he, or she, Quinn's uh..” I stopped unsure if I should assume a male or female partner.

“Di is Quinn's older brother. No two brothers could be more opposite. And no Quinn isn't gay. He just has a very feminine side.”

“Thanks,” I offered. I didn't have the social grace for conversations at the best of times. It was hard to start something sensitive without someone getting offended. I was always awkward, but picking a way to ask someone something to get to know them better without seeming insincere was a difficulty for me. It was a blessing to have Walker offer the information up for my benefit.

Back at the packhouse, Walker carried my bags to my room. He set them neatly on the floor in the closet and then pointed to bed. “Don't worry about unpacking today. You can get it all washed and away tomorrow. We were out a little later than intended. Get to bed and rest.”

“Okay,” I accepted, knowing Walker was right, and I was really tired. Before Walker could leave, I blurted out: “I am grateful for your help and time today. If you ever need anything, please let me know. I will help if I can.”

With nothing more than a pat atop my head and a nod, Walker left the room, and I was left alone with my thoughts. For once, the racing to-do list was nothing more than a checklist of bedtime items I had yet to complete. I brushed out my hair from the updo, removed the light amount of make-up I was wearing, a present from Xena, and brushed my teeth. I would shower in the morning. My bed was calling me, whispering the sweet words of comfort, warmth, and rest.