Quinn Bailey Must Die

3

Quinn's touch scalds.

She's all rough hands and wild lips, moving quicker than Sam's alcohol-addled brain can keep up with.

Sam remembers moaning.

She remembers the fascination: soft, warm, wet.

She remembers Quinn looking over with heady eyes, and pressing the softest kisses to her lips before she drifts off to sleep.

And she remembers thinking: Tara's going to kill me.

-

When Sam wakes, she immediately wishes she hadn't.

It's like a knife through the brain. Dry lips, dry throat. Her neck aches, though she isn't sure why.

And then she feels a very different ache, somewhere else.

Her eyes shoot open.

Memories flood back to her. The night. The wine. Quinn.

Fuck.

"Morning, you," Quinn purrs as she nudges her head between Sam's legs, "Thought I'd help myself to some breakfast."

Sam panics.

She almost throws Quinn off the bed in her effort to retract, as if Quinn's touch burns her.

"Stop." Sam says, drawing her legs over the bed.

She stands, and then realizes she's completely naked. Her cheeks burn, and she hastily reaches for her bathrobe. She tilts it around her body, arms crossed.

"Don't get shy on me now, Sam," Teases Quinn, "It's nothing I haven't seen already."

"Fuck," Sam says. She had it right last night: her sister is going to murder her, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Quinn sits up, a little uneasy.

"Okay," Says Quinn, slowly, "Now you're starting to hurt my feelings. What's wrong? Sam? Talk to me."

"You shouldn't be here," Sam says, urgently. Her mind is racing faster than she can speak. Panic surges within her chest, revulsion burns deep in her stomach - though, in all fairness, that might be the hangover. She pushes it aside, "God, we shouldn't have done this-"

Quinn tilts her head. A flash of hurt flickers through her features.

"Okay..." Says Quinn, "But we did. And it was amazing. Wasn't it?"

It was.

But that's neither here nor there.

"God, Quinn, that's not the point-" Sam hisses. She touches her head, flinches at the pain coursing through her body, "We shouldn't have slept together. I'm straight, for god's sake-"

"Yeah," Quinn says, narrowing her eyes, "You looked real straight last night with your fingers inside my-"

"It's time to go, Quinn," Sam interjects, "You've got to go before Tara sees you-"

"I'm not leaving you like this," Quinn protests, reaching out to touch Sam's arms. Sam flinches away.

"Sam-"

"Quinn."

Quinn blinks.

"Stop it," Sam snaps, "You need to go. Now. Right now. Get your clothes, you're leaving."

Quinn stares a moment.

"Fine," She says, reaching for her shirt. She gets up, completely naked, and Sam averts her gaze.