Quirkless

He Was a Friend, Wasn't He?

A few days after what happened with Carter, Francois had arranged a couple of agents to watch Midoriya for exactly twenty four hours. He'd shown up without calling first to hand Q a credit card and take her tracking watch before kicking her out of the apartment. His only rules: don't leave the city. Answer your phone if I call.

Now, Q sat outside a coffee shop, unsure what to do with herself and the writhing mass of emotions she'd been ignoring since leaving the hospital. Twenty-four hours wasn't enough time to really process anything, but was too long to just sit and dissociate. Finally making up her mind, the agent pulled out her phone and dialed.

It only rang twice before it picked up.

"Hello?" Her wife's familiar soft voice on the other line washed over Q and she relaxed immediately, her shoulders rolling in on themselves so she could rest her head against her knees. It had been a long three weeks since she'd been home.

"Hey lovely."

A breath hitched on the other line. She heard hurried footsteps followed by a slamming door before the soft voice spoke again. "How's the weather there?" Is it safe to talk?

"Looks nice, but there's a chance of lightning storms later." Safe enough, don't say anything sensitive though. "I just wanted to hear your voice for a minute."

The voice on the other line hummed softly. They'd been together since high school, married for five years. She knew better than to ask questions.

"Okay, baby. I can do that." The other woman took a deep breath, and Q could tell she was steadying her own nerves now. "So today the craziest case came in - it was some teenagers and they..."

Q relaxed as she listened to the mundane story, head lolling against her knees. She made small noises to indicate she was still there whenever the other women stopped speaking, but stayed mostly quiet. Too soon, a louding beeping started drowning out her wife's voice.

"Gotta go?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah, they need me in the ICU."

"Okay. See you when I get home."

Q bit back an 'I love you' and hung up. They had a rule - no 'I love you's when Q was on a mission. Those words were reserved for when she made it home safe and sound.

The call had done little to soothe the storm of emotions in her chest, guilt and grief swirling together into a kind of manic energy that demanded action. She fidgeted with her coffee mug, wondering if a long run and sleep would be enough to burn it off. She doubted it.

Her phone buzzed, Mei's name flashing on the screen. Q smiled despite herself. A long run might not do it, but a night out with Mei? That promised disaster.

The club was loud and Q knew immediately that this would be a long night. Bodies pushed up against each, some dancing, some just...touching. The flashing lights and pulsing music were overstimulating, almost to the point of discomfort. She tried to track the noises and people as she moved through the crowd to find a table, allowing her baser instincts to take over.

As she sat down, she saw the familiar shock of pink hair make its way through the crowd. Mei was back from the bar, two shots of what Q assumed was tequila judging from the limes in hand, and a beer. She raised her eyebrows at the other woman as she set them on their table.

"Don't worry, they're both for me." Mei's tone was a far cry from her usual cheer. "Some of us actually get vacation days."

Q just nodded and grabbed her beer. She wasn't on duty, so strictly she could drink, but at her ripe old age of twenty-six it took longer than half a day to get over a hangover. Plus, someone had to babysit Mei, who had a long history of getting into fist fights when she drank. For once, Q hoped that tonight would follow that pattern.