Standing On The Sun

by AlsinaOcean

With attempted assault under her belt and a box full of mysterious letters sitting in her house, award winning starlet Rachel Berry's life is spiraling out of her control. Enter Quinn Fabray, CIA special agent who hasn't seen the field in almost a year. Her only job now is to protect the pint sized diva. But sticking to protocol always did seem easier on paper. Faberry AU

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: It May Seem Like

Rachel awoke slowly, her eyes thick with sleep and her head pounding, the beginning stages of a hangover setting in. The sun shined brightly through the open blinds and she realized that this marked only the sixth time in her life she hadn't done her morning workout. The last five times had left her in a similar state, hungover and her body fatigued as if she had ingested cement blocks. She really needed to stop drinking.

Rachel sat up unhurriedly, waiting for the blood to rush from her head and the feeling of nausea to wash away. She rubbed her eyes then stared around her room. The sun was falling through the windows, casting a tinged yellow glow on her beige bedding. She saw her dress lying neatly across her vanity chair, and her shoes placed strategically under it. Rachel groaned audibly when she realized that Quinn must have done all of that last night, and by the looks of her room now and the aspirin and water on her nightstand this morning as well.

She was mildly embarrassed that Quinn had to witness her like that but at least she wasn't the Rachel Berry drunk that caused her to be needy and intimately tactile. She definitely didn't need that side of her to come out anytime soon, especially with the blonde agent anywhere near her, which at this point was inevitable. Yeah, she definitely needed to stop drinking.

Rachel ran a hand through her hair, downed the water and aspirin then got up and moved as fast as her body would allow to the shower. It had to be almost noon, and she needed to be ready by four since she had to perform at the Laker's last home game of the season.

Her feet carried her into the large and exquisite bathroom. She stripped off her minimal clothing then stepped into the warm spray, hoping to wash away the thoughts that plagued her mind and the hangover that weighed her down.

After Rachel was feeling refreshed and the pounding in her head was more of a steady beat she made her way downstairs. Will and Puck sat in the living room while Quinn was moving briskly around the kitchen and Sam, Mike, and Artie were nowhere to be found.

"Nice of you to join us this morning Rachel." Will proclaimed, announcing Rachel's presence.

Puck sauntered over and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah Jew Babe, I almost thought you weren't going to see the day. You were absolutely wild last night."

Rachel didn't exactly remember all that much. After she and Quinn and returned to the table, the night turned into a haze. But she did remember Quinn carrying her to her bed, wanting Quinn to stay, and realizing she might want to stare into hazel eyes every night before she succumbed to sleep.

"Well thank you for your immense amount of faith Noah. Although I trust I didn't do anything too detrimentally embarrassing."

Puck gave her a wicked smile. "You gave a lap dance to Justin Bieber."

"You did what?" Will cried out, eyes popping out of his head.

Rachel blanched and almost shrieked in response. "I did nothing of the sort."

Well at least she didn't think so. Rachel didn't even remember seeing the once teen sensation there but anything could have transpired after the complementary drinks were sent their way.

"You so did my little Jewish American Princess. And don't worry Schuester it was awesome, pure gold," Puck said leading Rachel further into the kitchen and sitting her down at the island. "Here have some food. Let Q here tell you all about your little show."

Quinn glanced up from the morning paper she was browsing through when she heard her name. "What show?"

"How could you let me get inebriated to a point where I would dance all over Bieber?" Rachel accused, answering Quinn's question.

Quinn raised an eyebrow then looked at Puck who was in deep conversation with Will and appeared to be holding back a laugh. She rolled her eyes, pushing a plate full of vegan pancakes and fruit towards the brunette woman.

"Rachel the only dancing you did was when you broke out into Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Also I'm pretty sure the Biebs was still getting carded at the door when we left."

Although Rachel was drunk she wasn't incoherent or not herself. All she did was sing, shout a bit at her friends, and drink some more. And Quinn was more than sure about the Bieber thing since Artie had reported seeing the guy outside, and even though he was around their age he still looked seventeen.

Rachel didn't seem entirely too convinced. "But Noah-"

Quinn cut in, "Cut the shit Puckerman, your jokes are far from impressive. Will, pay him no mind, Rachel was fine last night. She won't be splashed all over a tabloid for lewd behavior in the presence of a minor."

Will sighed in relief and Puck just threw his hands in the air. "You always gotta trash the Puckasauras' fun Q!"

"Whatever, why don't you go and run through protocol with Mike and Artie," Quinn stated unimpressed.

Puck shrugged in response gave Will a pat on the back then disappeared down the hallway. Quinn leaned on the countertop and shook her head.

"Word of advice. Don't trust any story Puck tells you."

"Noted. But in my defense I can't exactly recount the events that conspired last night after we left the restroom," Rachel declared, before taking a bite of a delicious, might she add, vegan blueberry pancake.

"It wasn't bad don't worry," Quinn assured Rachel, who was slowly eating her food. She wanted to ask the starlet about last night. And Quinn knew she was going to regret saying what had been on her mind since it happened but she just wanted to see what it meant.

"Although," Quinn started suspiciously, causing Rachel to glance up from her food. "You did say that you liked me carrying you."

Rachel stopped mid-chew, regarding the blonde across the island from her. She didn't know what the slight smirk on Quinn's lips meant or why she would bring up what she had said anyway. Rachel did like Quinn carrying her, she had felt so safe and secure not to mention slightly turned on but that was probably just the alcohol flowing through her body. But she wanted Quinn to carry her, to throw her over a muscular shoulder and have her- woah, that was not what she needed to be thinking right now. Rachel quickly composed herself, swallowing the lump of food in her mouth then adopting a look of indifference.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did." Quinn agreed with an unreadable expression and Rachel wished she had the ability to glimpse into the mind of the enigmatic woman in front of her. But before she could even blink Quinn was speaking again.

"Come on eat up, we have a few things to discuss before tonight's game."

Then Quinn was gone, just like all the other times Rachel started to see that same something behind hazel eyes that she was trying to figure out inside herself.

A while later Rachel stood beside Quinn, the last eight letters she had received from her stalker laid out across her desk in the study.

"Alright so for the last week the unsub has been sending two letters a day. He's been on location at all your local appearances and possibly in San Francisco as well." Quinn began, pushing to of the letters forward. "Now I believe that he's using some other form of access to you since after he figured out the video feed was down he wasn't angry."

"So you think he's like what, in direct contact with me?"

"That's a possibility but also he could have someone working for him."

"But I thought stalkers work alone."

"They do. It's more so a second party than a team. He's most likely using this person when he's not around so it's a high possibility he's actually employed. But what I really want to talk about is this." Quinn picked up the most recent letter, not even delivered an hour ago, then pointed to the left hand corner. A small pair of eyes were penciled in, contrasting deeply against the hard black ink lines on the parchment.

Rachel focused on the corner of the paper and the more she looked the more unsettled she got. Was it supposed to mean he was watching her? Because she obviously already knew that much and since it was the first different addition to the letters it had to mean something more significant. Plus the entire tone of the letter seemed different, more tame and not as demanding and desperate as the others. It just seemed more like an extreme love letter like the first few she had received from the guy.

"Well I'm guessing he's changing something in his plans. Since stalkers don't exactly believe they are stalking right? But the eye is like the validation of that fact. But it's entirely subjective and he's still way past delusional."

Quinn stared at her unsurprised. "You read the Stalking 101 handbook?"

"No," Rachel huffed hands on her hips. "We did just watch Criminal Minds on DVD Quinn."

"You watched it."

"Yes, while you criticized how ostentatious and unrealistic the whole series is."

"Catching the murders doesn't always work out in the favor of the good guys, especially that quick and easy. And with all their episodes it's like serial killers are as prevalent as they make it seem. Which they're not."

"There are millions of missing people who are never found. Who says they aren't the victim of a deranged killer? Those are the ones who get caught Quinn."

Quinn thought about it, Rachel was marginally right in some aspects. "Touché."

Rachel gave Quinn a satisfied look then turned back to the letter. It started out just as all the other ones did but it was the last paragraph that made Rachel pause and read through it again.

Rachel it's more than something I can control now. You've consumed me and what it is I do now is for you. I see you everywhere, in everything, in everyone, but it is never the same as when I see you in the flesh. You were so beautiful in gold like last night and now it is the only color I see. Soon Rachel you will no longer lie in bed alone for I will be there with you, just like we've always wanted. Just be patient, only in a few months time satisfaction will wash through us. Good luck tonight My Rachel, but in my eyes you will never cease perfection.

Love till the end,

Your One

This letter was more unnerving than the others. Despite its less graphic nature it was off the mark. It was a clarification letter, disguised through declarations of love. Now she knew that the next few months were going to be tricky, and something told her this was really just the beginning. Something had been set in motion and she had no idea what. She really didn't know if he had someone working for him, or if he would be following her on her tour, but now that he put a time on when he was planning on this to end her mind was on haywire.

Rachel turned and looked at Quinn shuffling through letters, a serious expression on her face. Rachel trusted the blonde, more so than she probably should but she couldn't help that. She was drawn to Quinn and she knew Quinn would do everything in her power to keep her safe.

---

The traffic around the Staples Center was overwhelming and the crowd around the front entrance was monstrous. Rachel couldn't wrap her head around the fact that all of this was just to watch ten men run around and try to throw a ball into a hoop. But Los Angeles loved the Lakers and the game of basketball and for tonight she would too.

"Alright guys, you in position?" Quinn spoke aloud beside her. Rachel couldn't hear the responses but she guessed they were in agreement since Quinn gave Andre a nod signaling it was okay to leave the car.

"Ready?" Quinn asked and Rachel momentarily was lost in the blonde. Her blonde hair was curled over her shoulders, the white top she was wearing accentuated every beautiful curve, the tight jeans she wore had to be illegal, and the boots she topped it off with made Quinn look like the star, not her.

Rachel nodded, putting her sunglasses on and Andre opened the door.

Cameras flashed immediately and the yelling started a second after.

"RACHEL ARE YOU EXCITED ABOUT THE GAME?"

"WHO DO YOU THINK IS GOING TO WIN?

"ARE YOU EXCITED ABOUT YOUR TOUR?"

"RACHEL ARE YOU STILL SINGLE?"

She followed Andre with a smile stuck on her face and she knew the exact moment when Quinn jumped from the car because the questions immediately zeroed in on her.

"LUCY ARE YOU AND RACHEL MORE THAN JUST FRIENDS?"

"LUCY ARE YOU PLANNING ON DOING MORE THAN MODELING?"

"RACHEL, LUCY OVER HERE!"

Quinn moved through the small aisle paved for them and kept a keen eye on the brunette moving in front of her. When they finally made it through the full security side entrance she breathed a sigh of relief, she would never get used to that part of the brunette's life.

"Ms. Berry, Ms. Summers." A man in a red coat greeted them. "I'm Joel and I'll be escorting you to your seats."

"Hello Joel it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Rachel greeted in return and Quinn just breathed out a simple "Hi".

Joel smiled at the pair then looked warily at Andre and Dante flanking their sides. "If you'll follow me right this way then." He turned then walked through the tunneled arena, engaging in light conversation here and there.

"Before you take your seat Ms. Berry, there is a large amount of fans wishing for your autograph. I know there is one scheduled for after the game but if you would like to sign some now I know they would appreciate it."

"I would love to sign some autographs now. I do have some of the best fans really."

Quinn made a move to protest but Rachel gave her a sidelong glance. It screamed no so Quinn actually decided to keep quiet. The blonde tilted her head and tried to figure out the point where she had decided to let Rachel run the show which only meant one thing. Quinn cringed internally, this was not good.

After the quick autograph session that ended with Rachel writing a long note to Joel's sister, they finally took their seats court-side. Quinn's eyes scanned over the packed arena and she spotted Artie in the sky box first, then Sam up in the rafters, Mike was to her right in the middle of the cameramen in the second row, and then Puck was to her left in the middle holding up a foam finger. Quinn giggled because jealousy really was not attractive on Puck.

"What's so funny?" Rachel asked curiously, wondering what had caused the genuine smile on the usually serious agent's face.

Quinn pointed slyly toward the once mohawked man. "I think Puck is a little jealous."

Rachel followed Quinn's finger and spotted Puck. He was scowling down at them from his spot in the stands, his arms crossed as best as they could be with the large opposing foam finger on his hand. She dissolving in a fit of giggles as Puck's scowl deepened as one of the Lakers' starters stopped in front of them and flashed a smile.

"Well I would be a little jealous too. His boss, who knows nothing about basketball is sitting two feet from your favorite team, not to mention the fact that a gorgeous woman is sitting in the seat right next to the one he wishes to be in."

"First off I'm not Puck's boss per se, he just has to listen to me because I'm smarter, but I don't pay him."

Rachel chuckled and waved her hand. "Semantics."

"Whatever, secondly you're the one who knows nothing about basketball remember? I'm the one who just doesn't care."

"Hey! I know things about basketball."

"What's it called when a player gets fouled and gets to shoot?" Quinn quizzed, knowing full well Rachel had no idea.

"A jump shot?" Rachel answered slightly unsure and Quinn laughed.

"No a free throw superstar. See what I mean?"

Surprisingly, Rachel wasn't even annoyed that she had just proven Quinn right or that she was wrong in her assumption. She would happily get every trivia question wrong if it meant that she would get to witness the bright smile on the agent's face regularly.

"My knowledge on the sport seems to be in need of a minor review, thank you for pointing that out for me."

Quinn grinned and Rachel's face mirrored hers. "No need to thank me, I'm here all week."

Rachel huffed playfully and turned her attention away from Quinn and to the players warming up.

"Oh and lastly I don't think Puck is jealous of the fact that I'm sitting next to you. He gets to see you almost as much as I do." Quinn concluded calmly.

Rachel whipped her head back towards the blonde, trying to stop the light blush heating her body. When Rachel had said gorgeous woman, she hadn't mean herself. She wasn't that conceited anymore. Really, she had been talking about the blonde movie star, that she couldn't remember the name of, sitting on Quinn's left. The same woman who Rachel had noticed subtly trying to get Quinn's attention since they had sat down. Her heart thudded quickly in her chest and the little girl inside of her jumped with pride once she realized that she had Quinn's undivided attention.

Quinn lifted an eyebrow curiously as she watched the emotions play across Rachel's face. Had she said something wrong? Maybe she should have just let Rachel's last comment slide, but to be honest she hadn't exactly thought twice about her words before she spoke them. Sure, Rachel's comment was a little arrogant but the playful tone in her voice made it seem like a put down. When she had heard that she found the urge to reassure Rachel that she was gorgeous. Easily, the most beautiful woman Quinn had ever seen, but she hadn't said that much so what was with the look.

Will appeared behind them and broke their swirling eye contact. "Rachel they're ready for you."

Rachel smiled slightly at Quinn, a small blush still on her cheeks, then stood and followed Will, Andre following behind her. Quinn wasn't sure what had just happened. They were having their normal banter but it seemed like so much more. Quinn couldn't quite articulate what that more meant and frankly she hadn't been able to articulate much about what was going on between her and Rachel. It was starting to become more clear now but whatever it was had to be second to what Quinn was really around Rachel for. She couldn't lose focus, the last time she had done so had resulted in more than just a failed mission.

The buzzer on the scoreboard went off and the players moved to line up. The stadium then was engulfed in darkness and the announcer's voice washed over the crowd.

"To sing our national anthem we have a very special guest. Everyone please stand and welcome Grammy, Emmy, and Tony award winning performer Rachel Berry!"

Quinn stood and stared as Rachel walked out and stepped into the spotlight, the packed house still screaming for the woman. The old school Kobe Bryant jersey on anyone else would look pretentious, but on Rachel it was perfect. Quinn was in awe as Rachel opened her mouth and began America's song, she couldn't bring her eyes to move. And when Rachel hit the crescendo, locking eyes with her through semi-darkness, Quinn knew that moment of awe might last a lifetime.

Fifteen minutes into the game Rachel's eyes wandered. The game was going on but Rachel paid no attention. She was suddenly feeling nauseous and she couldn't understand why. Her hangover had long passed and the small butterflies she always felt before a performance had fluttered away. She couldn't put a finger on what was making her so sick.

Rachel looked across court and it was like the eyes from the letter were staring back at her. She moved through the stands but the eyes followed her. She tried to focus on the players but the pencil drawn eyes reflected off the back of their jerseys. The sickness suddenly was overwhelming, all she could see were the eyes.

"I need some air." Rachel stated almost pleadingly to Quinn.

Quinn turned her attention from the game in front of her and looked at Rachel. Her brows knitted together in worry immediately and she nodded silently and stood, moving efficiently toward the tunnel that would be unoccupied. Andre and Dante stood watch as they finally reached a place Quinn deemed far enough from the imploring eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"He's here Quinn. It's like I see those stupid little eyes everywhere and I-" Rachel's voice tappered off and she looked down.

Quinn lifted the woman's chin gently and nodded for her to go on.

"I'm scared." Rachel whispered.

Quinn kept her hand on Rachel's chin and stared into open brown. "I won't let anything happen to you. This is what he wants, this is what the eyes meant Rachel. He wants you to be aware of him, to be uneasy. But don't let him win Rachel Berry. Don't let him get to you."

"You promise?" Rachel questioned lightly. Quinn was like her anchor right now, holding her steady against the thrashing waves her stalker was creating.

"I promise Rachel." Quinn declared honestly. "Do you want to leave early?"

"No, you're right. I can't let him win. I can't let him dictate my life. People are counting on me, there will be a line of fans awaiting to see me after the game and I will not disappoint them." Rachel answered determinedly.

There was the Rachel Berry Quinn knew, the one who would never let anything deter her.

Quinn smiled and took Rachel's hand, leading her back the way they had came, only dropping their intertwined fingers when the cameras came into sight.

/||\

After the Lakers closed out their last home game of the season with a win and Rachel finished signing autographs, Quinn's team once again found themselves moving about Rachel's mansion. Rachel was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, reading through the itinerary for her upcoming trips. She was extatic to put it lightly, she couldn't wait to begin the actual press tour. This was what she had worked for, this was what she had dreamed of.

Down the hall Quinn exited Artie's makeshift liar, happy with the progress they were making and moved into the living room. The television blared as the late night violent action movie held Will and Puck's attention. Quinn's attention pinpointed on Rachel immediately but suddenly the sound of flesh coming apart on the television transported her somewhere miles from Los Angeles.

"The first cut's always the worst." Francos Belleau said thoughtfully, as he picked up a blade from the tray. "There truly is nothing like flesh splitting open for the first time. Or the blood that rushes through the open wound at such a speed."

The Frenchman walked towards Quinn and Hunter, and Quinn could see that the blade in his hand was a Ka-Bar Marine issue knife. Her knife. The one Sue had given her when she had become top agent.

"But the worst cuts are the surface ones, the ones only a millimeter shy of the artery. Not quite the slice of death but definitely something to remember. Right?" Belleau opened his arms in question but neither Quinn nor Hunter made a sound to answer.

Belleau shrugged, "You'll talk soon. Now who first? Shall I start with you?" He pointed the knife at Hunter, and then turned around to Quinn, stopping only inches from her face. "Or your pretty little girlfriend here?"

The look of pure happiness on his face made Quinn want to hurl. She couldn't fight the urge, so she spat in his face out of disdain. Belleau's fist collided with her swollen eye in quick response and she cried out in pain. When she was finally able to open her other eye again, Hunter was staring out her, dyer concern etched across his bloodied face. She nodded slightly to indicate she was fine but she knew fine wouldn't last long.

Belleau swiped her spit from his face, pointing her blade at her and cackled. "I'll save you for dessert." He then circled Hunter's body once then crouched down.

"After I am finished with you joli garçon, the people who sent you will not be able to identify you. And you will tell them Francos Belleau did this to you, you will tell them messing with Le Milieu is no good." He motioned for two guards, who held Hunters legs. Hunter thrashed for a moment and Quinn's shoulder detached from her body further but Belleau ended that by making the first cut, a broad slice that went vertically up Hunter's right foot.

Hunter made no sound but his eyes clenched shut and his body went still. Belleau laughed and the others joined in. Belleau made another swipe, this time criss crossing through the first cut, and Quinn just tried to will Hunter to look at her.

She needed him to find something, anything to block the pain. She was helpless, she couldn't save Hunter from the torture being inflicted upon him as Belleau continued to make cuts along his other foot.

"Look at me." Quinn commanded in broken Polish, and Hunter's eyes shot open. "Focus only on me."

Quinn couldn't look away from Hunter's eyes. She didn't need to watch the notorious murderer in front of her torture the young agent. Quinn could hear the skin splitting and the utter agony etched on Hunter's features showed her enough. She wasn't worried about what would come next for her, all she was worried about was her team. Hunter and Zeke the only ones left of her six man special ops squad. But Zeke's cries had quieted down since they had started and Quinn was almost sure he was hanging from the bridge separating life and death.

She was supposed to protect them, she was supposed to do everything in her power to do her job and bring the rookie agents back from their first field op. Beau, Toby, and Lex were gone, all dead in the span of thirty minutes. And now Zeke was fading. Quinn couldn't lose Hunter too.

"Skupić się na mnie." Quinn repeated, and out of her periphery she could see Belleau circling around Hunter's back

Quinn couldn't help but glance down, and she immediately wished she hadn't. The stark contrast of blood against paled skin was evident, the harsh almost jagged lines worked into a harsh grid along Hunter's legs. He wasn't going to stay conscious for long now.

"Now tell me who sent you." Belleau commanded.

Hunter kept his drooped eyes on her and Quinn could see the beginning of the abyss starting to take hold of him. No Hunter, hold on please. Why the fuck hadn't her tracker worked? The rescue team should have made it to them by now.

"Nothing? Well I'll continue my art to keep you awake. I did always want to be a struggling artist." Belleau dropped the knife then picked up the machete. "You'll talk once I'm holding the skin from your back in front of you."

"Quinn?" Rachel's voice broke Quinn out of her reverb, and she tried to shake away the shiver rolling over her body. She was on the brink of relieving one of the worst memories. She needed to focus. She needed to find something in the room that required her full and undivided attention.

Rachel.

Quinn glanced to her left where Rachel was observing her, brows knitted deep in concern.

"What is it?"

"Nothing I was just lost in my head for a moment. But do you want to go and read through your actual fanmail?"

Rachel knew that whatever just passed through Quinn was serious but she ignored her scratch to ask. Reading through her fanmail would make her happy and hopefully bring Quinn temporarily out of the darkness.

"Okay." Rachel agreed, following Quinn out of the living room.

Once the pair reached the study, Rachel peeled off her sweatshirt and threw it haphazardly onto her desk. The house was unnaturally hot due to her most recent attempt to conserve energy. It was far too warm for Quinn to still be wearing pants, especially since she was the only one in the house who seemed to not be in shorts.

"Aren't you a bit warm Quinn? I would assume the pants you're wearing are sufficient for the winter but it's more like summer in this house."

Quinn shook her head, dumping a handful of colorful envelopes onto the coffee table. "I get pretty cold," she responded elusively.

"Why?"

The blonde in question sucked her lip between her teeth, contemplating what to say. The truth wasn't even an option but Quinn could be vague. She could tell Rachel that she gets unnaturally cold because the nerves in her legs didn't function and fire like they used too. But that would only her up for on an onslaught of more questions, questions she didn't have the appropriate answers for.

Quinn settled on a shrug, crossing her legs gracefully and the leg of her pant hitched slightly for a second. But it was enough time for Rachel to notice the lattice of light alabaster raised skin on Quinn's ankle that seemed to continue up her covered leg.

Rachel furrowed her brow and went to ask but stopped herself, the words catching self-consciously in her throat. She felt it. She knew after the first look that this was the thing about Quinn that Rachel didn't want to know. She didn't want to know how Quinn had gotten those scars, but regardless, she still felt the life-threatening urge to mend them.