Sam and Q | A Stern Talking To (Backdated)
Aug. 3rd, 2024 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_cannonball posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logs Quentin calls Sam into his office after the events of Made You Feel Second Best. (Backdated to August 3, 2024)
Sam sighed and tried to smooth out his clothes before knocking on the door to Quentin's office. "You wanted to see me?"
Quentin beckoned him in and flicked his wrist to close the door behind Sam. He was quiet for a moment before slowly exhaling to steady himself. "Niceties first. How's your sister?"
“Elle’s…..more communicative now. Seems to be doin’ at least a little better. Actually thinkin’ ‘bout comin’ up for a visit which is good.” Sam sighed and picked at his fingers. “Paige’s shoulder’s healin’ up fine, was just a bruise. Mel’s….needin’ some space but seems to be doin’ alright.”
He breathed heavily and then looked at Quentin. “If yer gonna yell at me you can go ahead and do it. Ain’t no need to beat around the bush.”
"Fine." Quentin took several slurps of his iced coffee, set down the empty cup, and inhaled deeply. "What the fuck were you thinking, shutting yourselves off from the switchboard like that? The situation had deteriorated to such violence that you called in the rest of us as backup and then you not only went deeper into the caves, you cut us out completely. You were impulsive and deeply irresponsible to your team, and normally I might commend that, but not when it results in your sister getting shot."
“I’m well aware I fucked up considerin’ I was the one takin’ care of her cause Lucinda couldn’t be bothered.” Sam responded evenly. “But somehow I didn’t think that what I was saying and the memories that got brought up with it would have helped y’all. I dragged you into the explosion with me on accident. This woulda been worse. It wasn’t the right decision but it weren’t selfish and it weren’t as impulsive as it seemed.”
Quentin slipped into sanctimonious rage like it was his favorite pair of 2-inch-inseam shorts. "Your concern for our collective mental wellbeing is noted, but I'll remind you again that X-Factor is not a combat team. We do not train for it, so when we're dragged into it, we have to be together. We will suffer whatever psychological trauma if it reduces the risk of you getting your goddamn head blown off."
"Understood. It won't happen again, sir." Sam said, making direct eye contact with Q. "I've finished the stack of background checks you left on my desk and called around getting information for several of our cases, they're all filed and in your inbox. Is there anythin' else you need me to do today?"
"Oh, don't give me that reverential demure shit, Samuel." It was so disturbing when other people played Quentin's own games back to him. This sort of defiance was only cute when he did it. "I respect your privacy, but you're not the only one with an unfortunate, mmm, romantic history." Though he clearly did not see any romance in Sam's story. "So keep that in mind, got it?"
"Understood.." Sam stare turned steely, as he repeated his last question. "Is there anythin' else you need me to do today?"
Quentin sighed dramatically. Regular Quentin Quire was doing nothing to get through to the son of a labor union man, so barring a psychic push to force his chastisement across, he needed to change tactics. God help him for what he was going to say next.
"Lila Cheney sucks, anyway. 'Mister Logan' sometimes played her when I came around for my 'extracurriculars.' It did not help me get in the mood." Though there was some detachment in his tone, the vitriol from earlier was gone. His facial expression had softened, too, his brow unfurrowed and his lips quirked in a sardonic grin. "I get it. Trust me."
"Then you know that I meant it when I said it won't happen again." Sam sighed. "I know I fucked up Q- it weren't a mistake I was gonna make again whether you talked to me or not."
This was about as far as he was going to get, Quentin finally accepted, whether or not he shared his own vulnerabilities. The softness left his face, his expression returning to its standard neutrality bordering on contempt. "Sue is running through the surveillance from the Evans case. See if she needs a hand."
Sam sighed and tried to smooth out his clothes before knocking on the door to Quentin's office. "You wanted to see me?"
Quentin beckoned him in and flicked his wrist to close the door behind Sam. He was quiet for a moment before slowly exhaling to steady himself. "Niceties first. How's your sister?"
“Elle’s…..more communicative now. Seems to be doin’ at least a little better. Actually thinkin’ ‘bout comin’ up for a visit which is good.” Sam sighed and picked at his fingers. “Paige’s shoulder’s healin’ up fine, was just a bruise. Mel’s….needin’ some space but seems to be doin’ alright.”
He breathed heavily and then looked at Quentin. “If yer gonna yell at me you can go ahead and do it. Ain’t no need to beat around the bush.”
"Fine." Quentin took several slurps of his iced coffee, set down the empty cup, and inhaled deeply. "What the fuck were you thinking, shutting yourselves off from the switchboard like that? The situation had deteriorated to such violence that you called in the rest of us as backup and then you not only went deeper into the caves, you cut us out completely. You were impulsive and deeply irresponsible to your team, and normally I might commend that, but not when it results in your sister getting shot."
“I’m well aware I fucked up considerin’ I was the one takin’ care of her cause Lucinda couldn’t be bothered.” Sam responded evenly. “But somehow I didn’t think that what I was saying and the memories that got brought up with it would have helped y’all. I dragged you into the explosion with me on accident. This woulda been worse. It wasn’t the right decision but it weren’t selfish and it weren’t as impulsive as it seemed.”
Quentin slipped into sanctimonious rage like it was his favorite pair of 2-inch-inseam shorts. "Your concern for our collective mental wellbeing is noted, but I'll remind you again that X-Factor is not a combat team. We do not train for it, so when we're dragged into it, we have to be together. We will suffer whatever psychological trauma if it reduces the risk of you getting your goddamn head blown off."
"Understood. It won't happen again, sir." Sam said, making direct eye contact with Q. "I've finished the stack of background checks you left on my desk and called around getting information for several of our cases, they're all filed and in your inbox. Is there anythin' else you need me to do today?"
"Oh, don't give me that reverential demure shit, Samuel." It was so disturbing when other people played Quentin's own games back to him. This sort of defiance was only cute when he did it. "I respect your privacy, but you're not the only one with an unfortunate, mmm, romantic history." Though he clearly did not see any romance in Sam's story. "So keep that in mind, got it?"
"Understood.." Sam stare turned steely, as he repeated his last question. "Is there anythin' else you need me to do today?"
Quentin sighed dramatically. Regular Quentin Quire was doing nothing to get through to the son of a labor union man, so barring a psychic push to force his chastisement across, he needed to change tactics. God help him for what he was going to say next.
"Lila Cheney sucks, anyway. 'Mister Logan' sometimes played her when I came around for my 'extracurriculars.' It did not help me get in the mood." Though there was some detachment in his tone, the vitriol from earlier was gone. His facial expression had softened, too, his brow unfurrowed and his lips quirked in a sardonic grin. "I get it. Trust me."
"Then you know that I meant it when I said it won't happen again." Sam sighed. "I know I fucked up Q- it weren't a mistake I was gonna make again whether you talked to me or not."
This was about as far as he was going to get, Quentin finally accepted, whether or not he shared his own vulnerabilities. The softness left his face, his expression returning to its standard neutrality bordering on contempt. "Sue is running through the surveillance from the Evans case. See if she needs a hand."
