A: Going to put a quick note. Sorry for spamming you so much. And also the external link over on the side goes to the playlist I created for this story. Hope you enjoy.
Christabella Quinn, or Anabeth as she preferred, didn't always act the way she did. No, not at all. Growing up, she was never the emotionless being she was now. No one knew why, or how for that matter, she became as caring as a stone the summer after her junior year.
It worried her family, all nine of them, to the point of where the put her into therapy. Not that it helped at all. Whenever any of the sixteen various therapists got something out of her it would immediately but scratched after some variation of the eminent question of, “How does that make you feel?”
“I do not,” she'd reply monotonous.
“You have to feel something,” they'd argue.
“I am a sociopath. My emotions, if I had any, would be shallow at best.”
At that point, her parents appointed her a new therapist. None ever got farther than what they already knew. She pulled herself out of therapy after turning eighteen, dropping out of school right before graduation.
Her parents would blame it on getting into the “wrong crowd.” There'd have to be a crowd for that to be true.
She often ran into the law, sometimes getting off scot-free, she was a Quinn after all, meaning she held more power in her pinky toe than they'd ever hope to taste in their dull and ordinary lives. It was something that did not go wanted by Anabeth.
Perhaps because she already had too much attention drawn to her. She was the baby, after all, spoiled rotten by all seven of her older siblings, namely Fiona (the eldest, Anabeth's senior by nine years) and Alfred, or Alfie as everyone knew him as (only four years her senior). From the time she took her first breath in her room of the Quinn Manor (her mother thought a home birth would be best) to her almost marriage everything was documented. The perks of being the daughter of CIA royalty.
She didn't chose that path, unlike the triplets and her father. At least not at first. No, instead she took to the Marines like a flower took to sunlight. She thrived in the corps, quickly scaling the ranks to Gunnery Sergeant under her brother Liam's direction. Unfortunately, for an undisclosed reason (probably something to do with her father and possibly Alfie) she was Honorably discharged under the bias of a near-fatal wound. Claiming a Purple Heart on the way (they gave them out like candy), Anabeth returned home to the Quinn Manor.
It wasn't long before the haunting memories of the battlefield called to her again. She considered taking after her mother and applying for the FBI (it did seem the whole family was on the side of the government, save for Anabeth's brief stint as a convict) but the appeal wasn't nearly the same. So, after confiding in Alfie, he suggested, well, the CIA.
It was a perfect fit from the start. Though she did have some trouble getting in at first, seemed she needed to graduate high school at least.
She proved to be one of the best agents the Company had seen in a long time, rivaling only her father. It appeared that her emotionless take on the world, as well as her strong hand in logic and reasoning, was exactly what was needed. Not to mention her background in performance arts was the glue to the puzzle that Anabeth laid out for others to see.
Needless to say, this is where our story starts. A cliché for an almost cliché story in which two people meet and, with the help of some outside catalysts, find an almost unwanted companionship.
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Why Fireflies Flash
Fiksi Penggemar“Have you slept with everyone in London?” Quinn blinked at the bluntness of Sherlock's question. “I have not slept with you, now have I?”
