A/N: There will be several time jumps in this chapter. And it goes between Brittany's side and Santana's side. My apologies for any confusing caused.

Guest 1 - Thank you :)

Guest 2 - Will Santana with tattoos be better?

luceroadorada - Thank you :)

Guest 3 - Brittana is end game ;)

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Glee.

Chapter 9: She's Gone

The smell of bile makes your stomach churn as you step into the dingy room.

Two men greet you and your trusty bodyguards as you approach the man tied down onto a wooden chair. His head droops every now and then, and he struggles to meet your gaze.

"How long has it been since the last dose?" You ask the men that have been guarding him for a few days.

"Two days. He's refusing to cooperate." One of them answers.

You nod as a form of thank you to the response before returning your attention to the man bounded to the chair. His skin is the shade of a sickly white and his body slumps against the chair with no energy left to put up a fight. The dark red holes on his arm stands out from his white skin, a tell-tale of his regular drug use.

"If you're willing to cooperate, we can hook you up with another dose. You look like you need it."

His body shifts, and he looks up at you with barely opened eyes. He chuckles for a moment before it turns into a coughing fit.

The room is silent, with only the sound of his coughs echoing around the four walls.

"¡Que te den por culo!" He spits.

One of the men guarding him steps forward and swing his palm across his face. The slap echoes, no help to the situation you're in.

"¡Chinga tu madre!" He bellows after recovering from the attack.

You sigh. It's going to be hard to get anything out of the drug deprived man. But you admire him for it. He's holding it pretty well considering that his body is going into withdrawal, strong-willed enough to hold out trading information for the drugs that will ease his sufferings.

His muscles clench as his grip on the chair tightens. He grits down his teeth and you can see him visibly shaking.

Sam steps forward and leans forward, whispering into the ears of the stubborn man.

The man's knuckles whiten before he burst out into a maniacal laughter. "Fuck you, Lopez!" His spit lands on Sam's face.

You see the change of expression on Sam's face. His usually calm demeanor warps into a quiet, angry fury as his eyes flares with undisguised hostility. He delivers a blow to the man's head, sending him toppling over his chair.

He brings his leg up and stomps on one of the chair's leg, breaking it off the seat. Using the broken leg, he pummels the man using the wooden leg he have on hand.

You watch on with no remorse at the scene before you. You don't feel bad for the man. You don't even feel the slightest emotion in you. You feel... Empty.

Grunts, groans and yelps puncture the silence. Nobody moves except Sam and the writhing man underneath his merciless blows. The two guards watch with wide eyes as Sam continuously rains attack down on the already helpless man.

The blonde only stops when the man stops writhing and lies motionlessly on the floor. Sam stands up and huffs, discarding the weapon on hand as he straightens his suit, smoothing out the creases before he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the spit and blood that have splattered on his face.

"Clean up the mess." He orders and the two guards hastily oblige.

Wordlessly, you exit the room with Sam and Finn trailing behind you.

Brittany collapses onto her new bed and lets out a deep sigh. She looks around, taking in the newness of her temporary apartment. It's a small flat, but a well-furnished one. Her room consists of a queen sized bed, a closet and a dressing table. Her luggage is abandoned on the floor as she closes her eyes to let everything sink in.

Her mind drifts to the conversation with Santana Lopez, the head of the Lopez family.

Never would she have thought that the girl she saved during one of her mission is involved with the bigger mafia families, let alone become the head of said family. And never would she have expected to feel anything for her.

They are from different worlds - both of them. The possibility of coexisting is near nil but sometimes, the heart wants just the impossible. She doesn't know when, or how she feels drawn towards the brunette. But she feel it every single time they've interacted.

She shakes her head gently, trying to eradicate the thoughts. This is no time to be thinking about something that is clearly out of her control. She have things to do and dwelling on her thoughts isn't helping.

The clock reads 5:24pm. She's worn out from the flight, but duty calls. Reluctantly, she pulls herself off the bed and checks the location that was sent to her shortly after her arrival in Vegas.

Better get this over and done with.

A new precinct, new colleagues - or maybe Brittany shouldn't call them colleagues since she won't be working with any of them. She tries to offer a smile as she makes her way deeper into the precinct, only to receive snarls as responses. Okay, maybe it's not one of their best days.

She gives the door three knocks and wait for permission to enter before turning the knob and pushing the door in. Brittany stands before the desk and goes into a salute position.

"Detective Pierce representing New York Police Department, reporting for duty, ma'am!"

"At ease, Detective." The Captain smiles and motions to the seat in front of Brittany. "Take a seat."

"Thank you, ma'am!"

"You can call me Captain Peyton. I appreciate NYPD's efforts in this operation. I hope the accommodation is to your liking."

"The apartment is great, ma'am, thank you."

She nods. "Before we get started, there are several protocols that I must review with you."

Brittany groans internally.

"You are not allowed to commit any crimes, no matter under what circumstance. You may be going undercover to get into the organization but you may not be the offender of any punishable crime."

The woman drones on and on. Brittany fidgets in her seat, trying her best not to doze off as the woman repeats the protocols again.

No crimes to be committed, no attachment to anybody involved, no holding back of any information from the police department, yada, yada, yada.

"Pierce... Pierce!"

Brittany shoots out of seat and gives a salute, "yes ma'am!"

The Captain narrows her eyes at her and sighs. "I know that you're tired and I know you're familiar with the protocol but at least, try not to be so blatant about not paying any attention."

The detective's cheeks flush pink and she mumbles an apology before slinking down onto her chair.

"Right... Let's get down to business. The objective of this mission is to bring down Hunter Clarington. His family runs two of the hotels on The Strip and accounts for more than five casinos in Vegas. The surface of their business appears legal but I need you to get deeper under the surface and get the evidences we need to nab him. He managed to launder more than two hundred million over the past five years." She pauses to check if Brittany is paying attention, so she nods, before the Captain resumes her briefing. "You will be going by the alias of Emily Bronte." The Captain slides a few cards towards Brittany. Among the few cards are her new identification card and her fake driver's license.

"Emily Bronte as in the literature writer Emily Bronte?" Brittany stares at her identification in disdain. Of so many names, they chose the name of a novelist from two centuries ago.

"Is there going to be a problem, Detective?" Captain Peyton raises an eyebrow at Brittany's outburst.

"No, Captain." Brittany straightens up and replaces her expression of disdain with a blank one. "How long is the entire operation going to take, ma'am?"

"The time frame is uncertain. It'll have to depend on how long you take to uncover the evidences before we have sufficient information to bring him down."

Brittany sighs. She have spoken to undercover detectives before and from what they have gone through, one mission can easily take up to three years.

Three years. In three years, she can easily lose herself to her alias identity. In three years, she may die from whatever factors that threatens her life.

"We've managed to work out a rough network chain for you. You're going to start by approaching the runners before working your way up to be one of Hunter's trusty aides."

"When do I start?"

"Take your time to explore the neighborhood, get a little familiarized with the surroundings and how it works. Tonight, head down to Ford's bar and check out the place. That place is his main turf. Report back any findings."

The smell of fresh blood is not foreign to you anymore. Your eyes are devoid of any emotions as you watch on. You let the bluish smoke escape between your lips as you wait.

"Fuck! I'll tell you, I'll tell you!" The man pleads as his hands hover over the knife embedded into his thigh.

Finn steps back and folds his arm, waiting expectantly for an answer.

"His name is Rick! Rick Nelson! He was sent to infiltrate your family two years ago! He's under the alias of 'Daniel'!" He reveals. The blood continues oozing out of his thigh as he speaks.

With the information you need, you stand up and wag a finger. You have no need for a man who betrays his family to save himself. Being in the world he is involved in, he should know better.

Die in the honor of your family name or die in the shame of your betrayal.

Either ways, they're both the same outcome. Just one more glorious than the other.

"I told you what I know, you can't do this to me!"

You hear him scream as the door closes behind you.

Brittany opens the door to the quiet, unassuming Las Vegas bar.

"What can I get for you tonight, gorgeous?" The bartender winks as Brittany settles onto one of the many bar stools. His pressed uniform brings out the professionalism of the bar, his hair a neat buzz cut but the side of his head is decorated with tribal tattoos that goes all the way down to his neck.

She flips her hair and rests her chin on the back of her hand that is propped on the bar counter. "Surprise me."

He smiles, revealing his pearly white teeth as he sets to work, grabbing several bottles and pouring a certain amount of each liquor into the mixer before closing it. Brittany watches in amusement as he tosses the mixer into the air, catches the mixer and roll it behind his back, passing the mixer from one hand to another before uncapping it and pours the mixed drink into one of their fancy glasses. "Here you go, my lady."

"Thank you." Brittany drawls. She toys with the straw before taking a quick sip. Her eyes never leave the bartender's as he looks at her expectantly. "It's good. What is this called?"

"Jake's bomb. Named after yours truly."

The Detective smiles bashfully as she sets her forearms on the bar's counter top and leans forward. "So… Jake."

One month later

Quinn is straddling his lap, toying with the knife on hand. His breaths are coming out shaky and shallow. The sound of your heels clicking turns both their attention to you. Quinn looks relieved at your presence but the man being straddled by her seems desperate to get out the situation.

"Boss! What's the meaning of this?" He questions you.

Before you can even reply, Quinn flicks the knife and the blade pops out. The man's eyes widen in fear and he follows the blade's movement as Quinn twirls it. "Is that the way you speak to the Boss?" Her voice is voided of sympathy.

Quinn's behavior shouldn't unnerve you, but it does. You regret it immediately for dragging her into this. She should be studying to become some great lawyer or script writer but here she is, helping you run the family. You make a mental note to talk to her later.

"I-I'm sorry!"

"Daniel." You speak for the first time you're in the room. His eyes snap past Quinn to look at you. "Or should I say, Rick Nelson?"

A flash of panic passes his eyes. "Who is Rick Nelson?" He feigns innocence.

Quinn plants the flat surface of the knife on his cheeks, causing him to gasp. "I-I don't know who you're talking about."

"I've heard about you. You have great rapport with a few of the better known members of the family. They've sang nothing but praise about you. I applaud you for that, Rick."

He visibly swallows but makes no further comment.

Quinn clambers off his lap and joins you by your side, pushing the blade of the knife back between the handle.

"But I really don't like rats in the family, no matter how good they are at what they do. I know my father's death have something to do with you. You knew where he was going because you overheard some things at the private booth in one of the capo's bars. The information must have helped you climb the family ladder, huh?" You take several slow steps towards him.

His mouth remains clamped shut.

"I see why you're so brazen. Your older brother was killed during one of the raids that another family did. Your father died trying to protect you and your mother..." His jaws tighten and his expression of fear have been replaced by anger. "Was taken by the family. You were left alone in the apartment, holding your too-young-to-be-sold-as-a-prostitute sister. You're directing your anger towards my family."

"What do you want?" He snarls.

"You know, if you actually joined our family before you joined the Browns, we would have done our best to find your mother for you."

"Shut up."

"I will, if you just admit that you're the cause of havoc within the family."

Apart from the death glare, he remains silent, refusing to confess. It is either he refuses to admit to being the culprit, or this whole thing is a case of wrong suspicion. But the way his demeanor changes the moment his family is mentioned puts the loose pieces together. It confirms his identity as Rick Nelson.

"Who are you working for?"

Silence.

"That's fine, if you don't want to tell us. We know which family anyway."

With no choice, Quinn wags her finger. At the instructions given, one of the soldiers drags a girl with a black bag draping over her head, obscuring her from seeing and being seen, into the room. Muffled cries breaks the silence in the room. The bag gets pull off her head, revealing a dishevelled brunette. Her face is damp with tear stains and her eyes are puffy. Apart from her bloodshot eyes, the woman is totally unharmed. Skin clear of bruises or cuts, clothing is clean without any dirt on it.

"Mum?" His gruff voice softens when he sees the woman standing before him.

"Ricky?" The woman gasps as she sets her eyes on 'Daniel' that is tied to the chair. She pulls away from the soldier holding her and crosses the distance, kneeling down beside her son. Finn holds the soldier back when he attempts to grab the woman who escaped from her hold. He gives a shake of his head, telling him to stand down. The soldier nods and takes a step back.

Her hands cradles his face gently as she studies his facial features slowly, carefully. "You've grown so much, my boy. I'm so sorry for not looking for you and Marissa. I tried." She apologizes.

"Mum, stop." His eyes water as he bites down on his lips to prevent the tears from falling. He refuses to cry in front of his enemies. Instead, he redirects the emotion at the Lopez. His facial expression hardens as he turns to the others standing around him. "Did they hurt you? I swear, if they did-"

"No they didn't." She guides his face towards her again, his glare softening as he locks gaze with his mother. "Apart from not knowing where I was, they treated me kindly."

Finn clears his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "As much as I hate to break up this love fest between you mother and child, there's business to get to."

Santana tugs on Quinn's wrist as she steps back, prompting Quinn to do the same, giving the limelight to Finn.

"I don't know how, or what lies your family fed you, but they were the ones that wrecked your family in the first place. They killed your father and brother, and took your mother. Your family's tragedy was their doings."

"They... What?" His face contorts in thinly veiled anger. You think that the cogs in his head is turning, processing the information at an unbelievably slow rate because the entire room is silent for several minutes. All eyes are on him and nobody speaks, letting the information sink in. He turns to his mother. "Is it true?"

The woman sighs, and nod.

"Dammit!" Rick curses. He writhes on his seat in anger. "So I've been working for the people who tore my family apart?" He laughs humorlessly. "I'm a fucking idiot."

Finn makes eye contact with one of the soldier standing near Rick before jutting his chin towards Rick. The soldier whips out a knife and steps forward, cutting off the ropes restraining Rick.

He remains seated as his mirthless chuckle dies off.

Both Finn and Sam turn to you for further instructions. You open your mouth to speak but Quinn beats you to it. She steps forward, looking down at Rick who looks up at her with a beaten expression. "Get out of here, now. There's no guarantee that your family will not come after you but at least now, you're with your mother. Don't ever interfere with the Lopez again. This is the last warning."

With that, she turns to leave. You follow behind.

"Wait!"

Both you and Quinn stop.

"I want to work for you."

You narrow your eyes, trying to get a read on him. He seems earnest, eager even. "How would I know you won't go back to your family and report to them on whatever we have? You've done it before, you can easily do it again."

"After using me like this, they're not my family anymore." He stands up and pulls his mother up, wrapping an arm around her protectively. "You guys have treated me far better than them, and I am grateful that you guys found my mother. I will tell you everything I know about them."

"So are you Daniel, or are you Rick?" Quinn raises an eyebrow at him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Daniel."

Quinn smiles. "We'll see you around, Daniel." She takes your hand and exits the room.

"Thank you."

Three months later

"Stop! Police!"

"Shite." Brittany mutters under her breath as she snatches the bag of pills back from the man who intended to buy the drugs from her. She shoves the man back and he stumbles, delaying the policeman, allowing her to get a few seconds leeway as she sprints down the alley.

With the policeman hot on her heels, Brittany have little to no time thinking of an escape route so she lets her feet carry her away from the cop.

"What the shit." She curses as she tries to get as far away as she can from the cop.

You recognize him - Anderson's child. He's not just walking to pass you. He's walking towards you, with a purpose.

Finn is quick to step forward protectively, staring down at the boy before him.

The boy's gaze flickers from Finn's to Sam's before landing on you. "I want to talk." He takes a quick glance over his shoulders. "Somewhere else."

You stand your ground, refusing to budge.

He sighs. "It's about my dad's business, okay? I have the money he owe you for the rent. I just want to make a deal with you." He waves the orange envelope he have in hand.

"Sam, Finn. Car." You instruct as you turn and walk towards the direction of the vehicle you just vacated.

The car clicks unlock, letting you slide into the backseat without another second to waste. The boy slide in beside you and your bodyguard closes the door before standing guard outside.

"Klaine?"

"Blaine." He corrects you as he lifted the envelope and unwinds the tie. "This is the payment for the month's rent he owes you and this month's. I want you to stop harassing my father for payment. I'll pay you on the first Wednesday of every month."

"How did you get the money?"

"That itself is not important. Your concern is only about the money. How I got it is none of your business." He pushes the envelope into you and shifts to exit the vehicle but you speak up before he manages to open the door.

"If your brother is the one that got me the money, maybe I wouldn't be so surprised. But you, Blaine." His movement stills. "To be able to come up with this sum of money isn't a simple feat."

"Like I said, it's none of your business." He snarls. His previous gentle demeanor during your first meeting with him have been replaced. His face hardens and there's a coldness in his eyes.

You try not to let it get to you - the fact that you've ruined the possibility of his chance at living a normal life without entanglement with the mafia. The next generation shouldn't have to pay for the mistakes of the previous'. But here he is, shouldering the responsibility of the mess his father made.

"I'm trying to help, Blaine."

"If you want to help, leave my family alone."

He exits the vehicle, letting the guilt sink in to plague your conscience.

"You alright, Santana?" Sam's voice snaps you out of your trance. You muster a weak smile and nod. He doesn't look convinced, but he accepts it. "Where to, next?"

"Lets go back for lunch."

"I'm down with that. I'm starved." Finn laughs as he buckles himself up in the driver's seat.

Sam closes the door to the backseat and gets into the passenger seat before Finn pulls away from the curb.

"Sam?" You lean against the window of the car and peers out, watching the scene pass by.

"Yes, Santana?"

"Send somebody to follow the boy. Make sure the boy doesn't know of their presence."

Sam is looking at you through the rear mirror but you avoid looking at it, focusing on the passing scenery. "Has it got something to do with your talk with him previously?"

"Maybe." You admits.

"You're too soft, Santana." Sam sighs.

Maybe he's right.

Four months later

"Everybody, drop your weapons!"

Brittany groans internally as she puts both her hands above her head. The cold, metal cuff clasps itself lock on her wrist and the officer marches her out of the building before shoving her into one of the police vehicles.

"Watch it!" Brittany snarls when her head knocks onto the roof of the vehicle as she is being shoved into.

"Do you expect an apology?" The office bites back and slams the vehicle door in her face, stopping any retorts from the blonde.

The ride to the precinct is swift. Within minutes, Brittany is being pulled out of the vehicle. "Follow the rest. No funny business."

She scoffs and follows after the last handcuffed man in line, her head held high as she marches into the precinct. Uniform officers give a look of disgust as they passes by. The look of disgust on their faces sends a shiver down her spine.

Was she like this before, Brittany wonders. The scrutinizing gazes make her want to shrink herself until she can't be seen.

The officers seat the people they have apprehended at a corner of the precinct and slowly pulls them one by one out of their seats for interrogation.

"Bad luck Wednesday, huh?" The man beside her breaks the silence.

Brittany shrugs and cracks a slight smile.

"How many times have you been taken in?"

Not the first time she have stepped foot into the precinct but it is the first time she got apprehended. "The first."

"That sucks, kid." The man looks not much older than forty, and going by the way he is able to joke about this entire situation, Brittany guesses that this isn't his first time here. "First timers either make or break it. They will force you to speak up because you're the new kid. Tough it out and you'll make it out."

"Tough it out and you'll make it out." Brittany repeats with a nod. The man smiles.

Seven months later

"STOP!" Mike yells as he chases the man he have been following for a case he have been assigned to.

"Mother fucking cop! As if I'll be so stupid to stop just because you want me to!" The man takes a quick glance back to get a gauge on the distance between them. "Oof!"

He bumps into something - or rather, someone. Hands reach out and steadies him, but turns him around and pulls his hands back against his back.

"Detective."

Mike's eyes flicker to the struggling man before meeting his addressee's eyes. "What do you want, Lopez?"

"Do you mind taking a walk with us? If you do, you can have him."

"Fuck! Since when am I the bargaining- ARGH!" The wanted man grunts in pain, effectively shutting up as his captive pulls his hands, applying more force to his bent arms.

"Fine." The Detective concedes and follows the Lopez, who pushes the wanted man along to the black sedan that is waiting for them a street down the road.

He juts his head in, motioning for Mike to enter the vehicle as he stands outside the vehicle with the wanted man firmly in his grasps.

Mike enters the vehicle and ensures that the windows are totally rolled up before turning to address the person in the sedan. "Santana."

"Don't worry, I've made sure that nobody followed you." You assure the Asian who nods in relief. You're unsure of how to start the conversation. Your motive is to find out about his partner, whom you have not seen for months.

"Is this about Brittany?" Mike asks.

You nod.

"Brittany isn't my partner anymore, and I have no idea where she is. The other day I went back to the precinct, I got assigned someone new. I've tried contacting her but..." He trails off as he tries to explain the situation to you who merely look straight ahead at the back of the driver's headrest. "That aside, the heat is getting off the Lopez. Your publicity is making the department hard to cast blames on you since words are going around that you're changing Lopez for the better from all the events you've been to."

"Who's your new partner?" You ask casually, trying to shift the attention away from Pierce.

"His name is Artie Abrams. He just made detective and Captain assigned him to me as a mentor."

"That's a huge amount of faith he have in you, Mike." You turn to him and offer a smile. "Any other business I should know of?"

"No, nothing much to report."

"Thank you, Mike."

"My pleasure." Mike gives a slight nod in acknowledgement before exiting the vehicle with a stoic face plastered. He turns to Finn that is holding the man he was after and whips out his handcuff, locking the man's wrists together before taking him from Finn. "Help appreciated, Lopez."

"Pleasure is all mine, Detective." Finn smiles and enters the vehicle. He bends more than others due to his towering height as he slips into the driver's seat and steers away from the side-walk, down onto the parallel streets of New York City.

She's not here anymore.