~~~~~
Quinn was not a morning person, so getting up at 5:00 am to catch a plane made him extraordinarily cranky. It definitely didn’t help that Margot was her bright chirpy self. She was wide-eyed and full of smiles. Jesus Christ. Quinn could barely keep his eyes open and they had only gotten to the check-in desk.
They checked their bags, making their way through Philadelphia International Airport to their gate. First stop was the security check. Quinn was only carrying on his laptop. Margot had her purse and one other small bag. They both checked in a suitcase and garment bag that carried their dress clothes. Quinn was glad she wasn’t one of those women who needed to bring their whole closet when they went on a trip. He had an ex-girlfriend once who brought four bags on a three-day trip to New York. Four. Bags. That’s insane! Shortly after they got home from New York, he dumped her. He didn’t do high-maintenance women.
Margot went through the metal detector first. She cleared it and went to the end of the conveyor belt to grab her stuff. Quinn walked through next without a problem. He was just grabbing his laptop bag when a TSA member approached him.
“Sir, we need you to step aside for a random pat down,” said the man who looked like freaking Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Quinn stared at him. At least they were about the same height. Stone Cold had probably about fifty more pounds of muscle over Quinn, though, and Quinn wasn’t a small guy by any means. He was a bit of a fitness and health nut and liked to keep his body in shape.
“Seriously? Do I look like a terrorist to you?” Quinn snapped before he could think better of it.
Stone Cold’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “Sir, come with me please,” he said firmly.
“Man, I’m not going anywhere. I have a plane to catch, I don’t need this shit,” Quinn grumbled, slipping back on his shoes.
Margot came over and touched his arm. “Quinn, just do as the man says,” she pleaded, her hazel eyes darting cautiously between him and Stone Cold.
“Sir, if you don’t follow me, I will make sure you miss your flight,” Stone Cold threatened.
Quinn gritted his teeth and glared at the man for a minute. “Fine,” he ground out. The only reason he gave in so easily was that Margot was with him. If he had been by himself, he would have argued more.
“Ma’am, please grab your bags and follow us,” Stone Cold said to Margot then took Quinn’s elbow in his beefy grasp.
Quinn glared down at the hand holding his elbow. “You better get your damn hand off me,” he growled.
Quinn could not believe this was happening. He was blaming Peter for this. Stone Cold tugged Quinn forward, obviously not giving a shit about his threat. Beefy-beeferson led Margot and him through a coded door and down a short hallway. He opened a door on the right and led them inside. The room was small with bright overhead lights. There was a metal table pushed up against the back wall, with a plastic folding chair against the wall, next to the table.
“Ma’am, have a seat please,” said Beefcake.
Margot did as she was told. Just as she sat, another male agent entered the room and shut the door behind him.
“Sir, please place your bag on the table, empty your pockets and step back,” the new guy said. This one was older and had an air of superiority about him. He must be a supervisor or something.
Quinn did as he was told. When he was finished, he stepped back and let them search his things. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a hip while he waited. He glanced at Margot who was looking anxiously between him and the agents. This pissed Quinn off even more. Neither of them should have to be subjected to this. After the agents finished tearing his shit apart, they moved to stand in front of him.
“Sir, we’re going to ask you to remove your clothing,” the new guy said.
Quinn heard Margot gasp while his jaw dropped. “What? You’re fucking kidding me, right? I thought you were just doing a pat down!” he choked in disbelief.
“We have reason to believe you’re hiding something on your person,” Stone Cold said seriously.
“Excuse me?” Quinn blinked in utter shock.
“Sir, you might want to just comply if you want to make your flight,” the older man added.
Quinn laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered. He took off his coat and dropped it to the floor, and yanked his red and black striped polo shirt over his head.
~~~~~
Margot’s eyes widened as Quinn angrily yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. One of the agents picked up his coat and shirt and started feeling through them. She stared at Quinn’s broad back. She could see his muscles rippling under his lightly bronzed skin. He had a tattoo on his back in between his shoulder blades at the base of his neck. It looked like a Chinese symbol of some sort. She would have to ask him about it later.