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Quentin is overjoyed at today's news, much to Alex's chagrin.


There was a stack of forms sitting in the inbox on Quentin's desk, hard copies of evidence and contracts and stuff that needed scanning or input into the computer system. Most days when tasked with his mind-numbing labor, he'd put on his headphones, pour himself a comically large cup of coffee (no matter the time of day), and just get to it. But today, he just didn't feel like it. He sat at his desk, feet propped up, chugging a Big Gulp and scrolling through his phone. He let out a loud belch as a greeting to Alex when he walked in.

"Attractive," Alex said with a chuckle, heading for a drawer to file something. "Very nice, dude. I see you're getting a lot of work done too."

"Worthington signs my paycheck either way, so who gives a fuck?" Quentin asked dismissively, not looking up from his phone. "Besides, today's a day of celebration. You hear the news?"

"There's a lot of news," Alex pointed out. "But I'm guessing you're talking about Randy Bush breaking out of jail."

Quentin nodded, smirking. "And I thought I was the mind reader. S'pretty fucking great, right? He didn't deserve a second of prison time. Collin needs him. And now they get to be one big happy family."

Alex ruffled his hair, frowning. "Yeah, I mean.... he never deserved to be in prison. But he's just going to be in more trouble if they find him."

"Maybe. But the news says he got out without anyone noticing. No one even go hurt. He went all Shawshank. If he can do that, then can he even be caught?"

"For his sake, I hope not," Alex admitted. "Doesn't make breaking out any better. And how's he going to find his family? They're buried in the Underground now."

"He must have thought of something. He's clearly a dozen steps ahead of everyone else." Quentin put his soda and phone down on his desk and stood up to stretch. He savored the the feeling of his body loosening, his joints cracking. It felt like was climbing out of a twenty-year sleep. "I'd send him a congratulatory cupcake if I knew where he was."

"He didn't exactly strike me as a mastermind criminal," Alex said. "At best, he's watched too many bank heist movies. I don't know, I just hope he's okay."

"You don't think we should look for him, do you?" Quentin asked, eyebrow raised. "Maybe get him to safety before the popo kidnap him. That would be aiding and abetting, though."

"I don't know." Alex raised an eyebrow right back. "He did break the law, no matter how noble his intentions were. And he said he'd serve his sentence. This whole thing just seems weird to me, honestly."

"Weird how?" Quentin asked before picking up his soda and loudly slurping from it.

"Well, like I said, he told us he'd serve his sentence. He knew what he was doing was wrong, he just wanted to find his son." Alex shrugged. "Dunno why he suddenly decided now seemed like a good time to break out."

Quentin waved his hand, making some vague gesture at the sky. "The stars aligned and meted out some small semblance of cosmic justice for once instead of kicking us in the balls again and again."

"Yeah. Maybe." Alex didn't buy it, though. "I'm sure you're thrilled about this."

Plopping back onto his chair, which rolled a couple inches away from his desk, Quentin smirked his trademark smirk. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, hooking a foot under his desk to wheel himself back.

"I mean you could've gotten balloons or something, but I can't imagine you being too upset about it," Alex said as he finally finished filing what he had come in here to file.

Quentin got up again and sauntered over to Alex, draping an arm over his shoulders and running his other hand tenderly down Alex's arm. "Sounds like as good a reason to party as any. I know where Worthington keeps his coke, you know. He just uses the flimsiest of locks for his drawer, too. A little teek and it's open."

Alex's eyebrow shot way up at that. Not that Quentin had ever been subtle about flirting with him. He usually stuck to words, though. "Thought you were strictly pot," he said simply.

Without discouragement, Quentin's caress continued, his fingers slowly tracing some invisible design on Alex's arm. "Is that what you thought? Maybe you don't know me so well."

"Yeah, maybe." Alex shrugged Quentin off, stepping away. He usually took the flirting good-naturedly, because it was funny and he an ego. But this was going too far.

Quentin sashayed back, smirking and holding up his hands as if to show he was unarmed and harmless. "Oh, calm your tits, Summers, it's just a joke. Sorry you got whatever about it. Lighten up."

"I'm calm, dude." Wondering if Quentin had already broken into the coke stash, perhaps, but calm. "I'm getting back to work, though. Maybe consider doing the same when you're done with this trip."

"Yeah, sure, I'll do that." Quentin was not going to do that.

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