Quinn Camp

-there is a birthday card taped to the door of the small storage room where Ginny and Quinn had kept the boxes from the last tenant’s stuff. Inside the card is a note-

Quinn, Happy Birthday!! You’ll probably be getting home while I’m still at work, but when I get home, I’d really like to take you for dinner. And cake. If you want. :) As for your present, it would make more sense if you open the door before reading the rest of this card. I hope you like it. Viktor helped me put it together. We kept it neutral so you can decorate it however you like. I used my employee discount and there should be a StarkPad laptop on top of the desk. The tech who helped me pick it out assures me it’s top of the line. I did some tinkering on the blankets so they’re all warmer and sturdier. I fixed the mattress, too. That should be the most comfortable thing. Ever. If it’s not, I can do some more tinkering :) I hope you like it, Quinn. You’re my roommate and if there’s anything you deserve, it’s your own room.  I Love You Bunches, Ginny P.S. Viktor said he left his present on your nightstand. Whatever he got, just forgive him. :P He hates shopping and I think the last time he bought a gift for a teenager was when I was your age.

Quinn had gotten home late, and when she did, she was more than ready to fall down onto her couch and fall asleep. She'd pulled a shift and a half (on her birthday!) to cover for someone who wasn't going to make it in (and hadn't bothered to tell anyone until last minute), and as such, she was more than ready to take a nice long sleep. 

That was, until she saw an envelope on her couch, pointing her to a door she'd never cared to look in before now.

And there she saw a room of her own.

She hadn't expected something like this.

Quinn had spent a while keeping Ginny, making her just another person lived with. Quinn had done that in protection of herself -- she couldn't be hurt by Ginny if she never put any hopes on Ginny to begin with. Now she questioned that decision, and the more she read, the more she questioned.

A new laptop would let her have her own space without the constant fear of it glitching up or falling to pieces the way her current (loaned) school laptop did, and an actual bed with temperature-appropriate bedding would mean that she actually might sleep more restfully at night. Quinn's head went dizzy with numbers -- even with a discount, StarkTech was top of the line in performance and price, and a new mattress wouldn't come cheap -- but for once she just let the gift be a gift. She was too tired for much else anyway, and she'd just have to steadily ignore the 'love you bunches' comment at the bottom.

The last thing she checked out before she crawled into her new bed was the gift certificate to a department store. She didn't have any immediate plans, but she'd leave those to her dreams.

Setting her alarm, she made sure she'd wake up sometime before Ginny was due back.

Quinn sat cross-legged in a library in front of an open book, and for a rare surprise, it wasn't forced.

She'd discovered a volume of 'Little Orphan Annie' on display while she was returning a book that she had borrowed for class (the only way she was going to get a chance to actually read it), and she'd just had to open it to see what the comics were really like. She'd seen the musical when she was younger, and even though she'd found it a little annoying then... she was curious now.

It didn't take long for her to completely want to throw down the book and walk away.

In fact, she did, but when she turned around, she saw that there was a little redheaded girl standing behind her.

"What the fuck?" she asked, immediately defensive, and the little girl stared up at her.

"Gee, I don't think that's a good word to use, lady. Daddy Warbucks used it once in front of me, but then he told me to never use it, said it wasn't right for a young lady!"

Quinn blinked, and then decided that she'd obviously pulled just one too many shifts at the Starbucks lately.

"Kid, I dunno who the fuck you are or who the fuck you belong to, but scram. I don't deal with brats."

The redhead started to look as though she might cry, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Cry all ya want, kid. It doesn't do shit in today's NYC. Shit, probably didn't do shit back when you were relevant."

Quinn went to go put the book in the 're-shelf' area, and then walked out the door and on her merry way.