Noah turned to Rachel once they were alone, taking her hand in his. "I thought she would never leave," he muttered, pulling her close for a kiss.

Rachel smiled against his lips, leaning in close to him. "You're just lucky your sister is so willing to give you time alone with the out-of-town reporter," she teased, leaning her head against his chest.

Noah wrapped an arm around Rachel's body, his fingers trailing up and down her spine, slowly pulling the shirt she was wearing up, exposing the bottoms of her white panties.

"You know," he said, looking down at her. "Since we have time alone with no possible chance of someone interrupting us, we really shouldn't waste it," he teased.

"You're right," Rachel agreed. "Your apartment could use some redecorating," she joked.

"Hey you, that's not funny. I don't want the girl in my bed to redecorate, especially not when she's wearing a tee shirt of mine."

Rachel smiled, climbing onto his lap and facing him, her arms wrapped around his neck. "So what kind of hopes did you have for this amazing girl?" she teased. "Scrabble? Checkers? Sleep?"

"No, no, and definitely no. If I have my way, she won't be getting any sleep tonight," he mumbled in her ear, causing Rachel's face to turn bright red. "Ah, so you like that idea too, it seems," he teased, his hands moving up her back and under the shirt.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep," she laughed before she was cut off by Noah's lips. He lifted her up slightly before flipping her over onto her back, him on top of her.

Rachel's back rested on the mattress while Noah's hands remained inside her shirt, moving over her bare chest freely. His lips moved feverishly with hers, not bothering to waste any time.

Rachel ran her fingers through his hair as best as she could, her legs wrapped around his waist.

With one swift movement, Noah pushed the shirt up and over her head, leaving it lying in a crumpled ball on the side of the bed, leaving Rachel's torso fully exposed.

"There, that's better," he muttered, staring down at her.

Rachel flushed at that, her normally pale face a deep shade of red. "Someone's inpatient," she said, attempting a light hearted tone, though it came out more nervous than anything else.

Noah paused for a moment, looking down at her with concern. "Rach, do you want this?" he asked, leaning back. "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for yet. I mean, I know we've been moving fast and—"

Rachel reached a hand up, pressing her index finger to his lips, silencing him. "Stop," she whispered. "I'm not trying to stop you, so why would you think I don't want this? I do, Noah. I really do."

"You just look a little nervous is all," he said, his hands resting on her stomach, his thumbs drawing circles in the smooth skin.

"The last time I did this with you, I was 18 and still in high school. What's there not to be nervous about?" she said, giving him a look.

"Fair enough," he agreed before his lips were back on hers.

After that, there was no more talking. Clothes were torn off and thrown across the room. Noah was convinced his neighbors didn't get any sleep that night—that or they put in ear plugs so they could get some sleep. He'd forgotten how loud Rachel was.

Sometime around three in the morning, Rachel and Noah gave into their exhaustion, falling asleep in his bed. Noah's arms found their way around Rachel's body, his blanket covering both of them.

xxxxx

Becca ended up walking back into the apartment around nine the next morning, still dressed in the clothes she'd left in the night before. She dropped her purse on the floor in the kitchen, expecting to find her brother and Rachel eating breakfast.

Her friend, Kelly, had insisted on coming with her. After all, no girl was going to walk around town alone when some psycho was butchering girls left and right.

The kitchen was empty and the apartment was silent. Becca spotted the leftover chicken still sitting in the pan on the stove, as well as the dirty plates on the kitchen table. She turned to Kelly, arching an eyebrow.

"Think they went out to get something to eat?" Kelly asked, covering her mouth as she let out a yawn.

"No way. Noah is anal about putting food away and cleaning up. He doesn't want bugs in here." She put a finger to her lips, tip-toeing down the hall. Kelly followed behind as Becca pushed open the door to Noah's room.

Kelly covered her mouth, giggling a little. "Isn't that precious?" she whispered to Becca. Noah and Rachel were still fast asleep in his bed. The blanket had shifted a little during the night, resting comfortable at their waists. Rachel was curled into Noah's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Becca reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "This is too adorable not to get on camera," she whispered, taking a picture of the two of them. She turned back to Kelly. "They're not getting up any time soon. Want to steal his keys and grab breakfast in town?" she asked.

Kelly nodded her head, and the two girls exited the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Before leaving, Becca sent her brother a text, attaching the picture she took.

Kelly and I are headed out to breakfast. Hope you wrapped it ;-)

Noah woke up to his phone buzzing, groaning as he rolled over in bed. He hadn't gotten near enough sleep, though it had been entirely worth it. He glanced next to him at Rachel, who had rolled onto her side now that he was no longer cuddled with her.

Noah flipped open his phone, expecting to be needed at the station. Luckily, there were no messages from them, though there was one from his sister.

Curious, he opened the message and was greeted by the picture of him and Rachel in bed, both sleeping. At first, he was stunned his sister would take something like that, though he kept looking at the picture, smiling at how perfect he and Rachel looked together.

He heard a soft sigh as Rachel rolled over in bed. A pair of hands was on his back, and soon she was sitting up, her arms wrapped around his middle, her lips on his shoulder.

"That's a very sexy picture, you know," she murmured, her fingers gingerly dragging over his bare stomach.

Noah chucked, nodding his head. "It is," he agreed, reaching back to pull her closer.

Rachel let out a small laugh as she read the message. "Nice to see inappropriate talk is a Puckerman trait," she teased, kissing the side of his neck.

Noah laughed, turning his head to the side so her lips were pressed against his. He leaned back until he was lying on top of her, laughing as Rachel squealed, hitting him in the shoulder.

"Noah, you big oaf! Get off me!"

"Oh, now you want me off you? That's not what you were saying last night, babe," he teased, grinning as her face turned red. "I'm surprised the neighbors weren't banging on my door, yelling at me to keep it down in here."

That caused Rachel to turn an even deeper shade of red. "You're vulgar."

"And you're a prude," he shot back.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I think I proved to you last night that I'm the furthest thing from a prude. 'Oh Rachel, just like that baby'," she said in her best Noah voice. "I don't think you would have been begging for my amazing sex skills all night long if I was a prude," she said before standing up, wrapping the sheet around her body.

Noah rolled his eyes, lying back in his bed. "I've seen it all, both before and last night. No need for modesty."

"Well, maybe I don't feel like walking around you're apartment naked. Your sister is staying here," she reminded him.

"So? It's not like's never seen a naked chick—she is one, after all. Besides, I forgot to tell you the one rule of my apartment."

Rachel looked at Noah, cocking an eyebrow. "What's that?" she asked.

"Once you ride the sex shark, clothes remain off until he says so."

Rachel scoffed, ignoring him. "I can't believe you still call yourself that," she called as she walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Noah heard the water turn on, figuring Rachel was taking a shower.

He got up, grabbing a clean pair of boxers out of his dresser and pulled them on. He was due at the station in an hour—he didn't even get the damn weekend off with all these murders to solve.

He was searching for a clean shirt when his phone started ringing. The water had already turned off, so he figured Rachel was drying off.

He reached over, picking up his phone. "Sheriff Puckerman," he sighed into it, not wanting to deal with work this early.

Rachel walked out of the bathroom, finding Noah seated on the edge of the bed, his head resting in his free hand. She took a seat beside him, rubbing his back as she kissed his bare shoulder. He didn't even seem to notice she was there.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can," he said before snapping his phone shut.

"Who's dead now?" Rachel asked.

Noah leaned over, kissing her lips. "No one," he promised. "They just finished examining Santana's body, and they found something that wasn't on the other ones."

"What'd they find?" Rachel asked.

Noah shook his head. "Sorry, can't tell you. You're the press. Do you know how much trouble I'd get in?"

Rachel frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh come on, who cares? No one's going to know it was you."

"Seeing as I'm very publically going around town with you, I think people will put two and two together."

"Santana would want me to know. She talked to me. She'd want me to know what you found so I could help you nail this bastard to the wall."

"That may be true, but Santana isn't here to tell me that. Besides, rules are rules. I can't tell you anything." Noah paused for a moment. "But, if you just happened to catch a glimpse at a police file, like the one I'm going to have to bring home to finish my work, well, I can't help that," he said, kissing her lips before getting up. "I'll be home late," he said, pulling on a pair of khaki pants and a dark t-shirt. He threw on his jacket, slipping into his shoes.

"Don't forget your phone," Rachel said, handing it to him.

He nodded his head, slipping his phone and keys into his pocket. "See you tonight," he said, kissing her forehead before heading out the door.

xxxxx

By the time Noah made it home, he was completely exhausted. Rachel had dinner ready for him, but he seemed too tired to even put food in his mouth.

"Long day?" Rachel asked, seated on his bed with her laptop open. She'd been writing all day, sending her progress to James. He'd already published a piece on Brittany, and he emailed her to tell her the article on Santana would probably go to print tomorrow. He also said he wished she'd come home, but she'd ignored that.

"You can't even imagine," he said, crashing onto his bed next to her, his face resting on his pillow. She heard snores a few minutes later.

Rachel shook her head, kissing his head. He was going to be out for a while. Quietly, Rachel climbed out of bed, looking at the papers he'd brought home from work. There were two folders, each with a name on them.

Rachel looked at the one marked 'Santana Lopez' and picked it up. She flipped through it until she found the medical examiner's report.

Rachel took a seat at the table, reading the information on the page. It all seemed like a bunch of medical talk that meant nothing to her, but two things stood out.

They'd found a few long, blonde hairs in Santana's hand, and there were two types of blood on her body, both female.

One of them belonged to Santana. One of them was unknown.

This changed everything. The killer—the killer was a girl.

Rachel ran back into the room, grabbing her computer. The placed it on the kitchen table, opening it before typing frantically. She had so much to change now.

She'd assumed the killer was a man, someone who'd dated both Brittany and Santana, someone who wanted revenge on them.

But a girl killer, that was something new. It was someone who was jealous of them, someone who hated them, someone who couldn't let a grudge go.

Someone with long, blonde hair.

Quinn Fabray.