It's been a long day. Carrie leaves her office late, around 11p and decides rather than go home to her dark, quiet house; she'll stop at the bar for a drink. She needs to clear her head, relax. Then maybe things will come into better focus. She walks in to the bar and slides onto an open bar stool, hoping not to be bothered by anyone. She's not quite as good as Quinn at being unnoticed in a room.

Carrie orders her vodka and after taking a sip, she stares into her glass, then glances up at the mirrored wall behind the bar. She scans the scene unfolding behind her - the young professionals laughing and touching each other flirtatiously. She was never good at that scene – always hated it, in fact. Then she notices a familiar figure across the room. It's Quinn. She smiles inwardly, happy to see him. He's laughing, and there is a woman, no – two women, next to him. One in a low cut blouse keeps touching his arm and leaning in towards him, throwing her head back and laughing. The other in a clingy tank top seems to be silently cozying up to Quinn, touching his chest. Is she actually putting her hand under his shirt? What the hell? Since when did Quinn get a little following? Carrie continues to watch. Quinn towers over these women, and his strong, muscular build makes them look even smaller. Carrie watches Quinn's face respond to the women, his eyes crinkling when he smiles, his jaw clenching as he listens to whatever pathetic story they're telling him. At first Carrie is shocked, then amused. But after a few minutes, she's feeling…annoyed. He looks a little too happy getting all this attention. Is she jealous? Carrie stares down back at her drink, takes a large sip. She didn't realize Quinn had admirers. She didn't even think of Quinn as someone to admire. Sure, there was the ER nurse, but now Carrie wonders who else he's been with?

Carrie looks back up at the mirror again and continues to watch Quinn and the women. This is ridiculous – these women are losers. What could he possibly see in them? There probably isn't a single brain cell to share between the two of them. They're like vultures, eating him alive…and he's loving it. WTF, Quinn? She wasn't used to seeing Quinn give his attention to anyone other than her and the CIA. She didn't like it and takes another big sip of her drink. Suddenly there is a hand on the small of her back and a familiar voice, "Carrie? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were at work." Carrie looks up and is surprised at the relief and joy she feels seeing Quinn standing there next to her. "Hey! What are you doing here? I didn't see you," she lies. "Uh, just grabbing a drink…I didn't realize you came here. I would've asked you to come with me." Carrie is now annoyed even more. She doesn't want his pity. She doesn't need this scene.

"I don't…come here. I just needed a drink. I'm leaving," Carrie says as she finishes off her drink and motions to get up. Quinn senses her anger. He's seen this look and heard this tone coming from Carrie before.

"Are you upset about something?" he asks.

"No Quinn, I'm just leaving. Have fun with your…friends." Carrie grabs her bag and heads towards the door. Quinn puts his beer down on the bar and quickly follows. Carrie's just outside when Quinn grabs her arm.

"Carrie, wait." She is surprised at how strong his grip is on her, but she is glad he followed her. "What's going on? Why are you upset? Did something happen at work?"

"No, Quinn. Nothing happened at work. I'm fine."

"Then why are you storming out of here with smoke coming out of your ears?" Carrie can't respond. She can't tell him why because she can't understand it herself - it's ridiculous. But sitting there at the bar, watching these woman fan all over him made her feel something she hadn't expected. She wanted to be the one touching his arm, feeling his skin under his shirt. She wanted Quinn's attention. But when the hell did this happen? When did she start caring about who Quinn spent his time with?

"You know what, Quinn, just go back inside and enjoy yourself. I didn't mean to interrupt your evening. I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are."

"Those aren't my friends, Carrie," he says gently. "I don't know those girls. I just came here to relax and blow off some steam." There is a long, quiet pause between them as Carrie and Quinn stare at each other. She's feeling relief again. How does Quinn do this? How do his actions with her, or lack thereof, cause her to feel so much?

"So…is one of them the ER nurse?" Carrie asks in a smaller voice than she intended. Ugh, so stupid, now I sound like a jealous girlfriend.

"ER nurse? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Look, I'm going to go."

"Carrie, are you…jealous of those women I am with?"

"Jealous? Of those floozies? Ha!"

"I don't know…I thought they were very intelligent young ladies…" Quinn jokes.

They smile at each other and look for a sign that things are okay between them.

"Come on, let me drive you home," Quinn offers.

"I don't think you're in a position to drive me anywhere, Quinn. You've been here twice as long as me. Give me your keys, I'll take you home. You do have a home, don't you? Or are you still living like a nomad?"

Carrie is smiling, and Quinn feels his own sense of relief. She's okay. If only he could tell her that he would do anything for her to be the woman cozying up next to him, touching and wanting him. That he fantasizes about Carrie when he is with another woman. Touching Carrie's hair, kissing Carrie's lips, unbuttoning Carrie's blouse.