The Glee characters belong to Glee, the rest of the characters belong to me. This story is improved no end by wood-u-like-2-no's contribution as beta and soundboard.

Conceit: Chapter titles are song titles. Abba, makers of the finest pop song of all time. Not this song, which is a track off The Visitors.

+...+

Chapter Twenty-One: Two for the Price of One

"I was surprised you called me. I thought you and Rachel were…"

"Me and Rachel are old friends, that's all."

They were having dinner at Finn's favourite restaurant. The staff had proven to be discreet and always gave him the table in the back, as far away from curious eyes as was possible in a small restaurant seating only thirty. Part of it was tucked behind a pillar, wholly obscuring the diner on one side of the table from the rest of the customers. Only Katie could see out across the rest of the premises. Finn's view was restricted to his guest. He looked up from his sublime Dover sole to see her watching him sceptically. He felt himself get defensive. "It's the truth! Anything we had was over a long time ago. It just been a bit awkward, that's all. We had a talk last night, to clear the air." Katie was still staring at him dubiously but Finn was grateful that she dropped it. He didn't want to spend the night thinking about Rachel.

Katie returned her attention to digging into a large steak. She'd told Finn when she ordered that she wasn't a big red meat eater but the steaks in America were just too good. "So, why me?" Katie was dressed in a short blue off the shoulder cocktail dress that sparkled, emphasizing the blueness in her eyes and setting off the auburn hair, pinned up to gush in curls from the top like lava on a volcano.

"Are you kidding?"

Katie laughed. "I suppose I should take that as a compliment even if a girl could use at least a nod to personality and wit."

Finn smiled. "Oh, you had me on those when you asked me to be mother. Where does that come from?"

Katie shook her head. "I assume it's from the tradition that mums were in charge of preparing and distributing family meals from the days when a woman's greatest kitchen aid was her teapot. Attitudes move on faster, thank God, than adages."

"Not fast enough," Finn said, suddenly serious. "My brother still gets crap sometimes for being gay. You'd think people would have got it in this day and age."

"At least your brother is in an industry that embraced homosexuality years ago. It's tougher for actors. It can still wreck careers even if less and less. But God forgive you if you're suited to being a romantic interest. I was working with Rupert Everett on stage in London last year. He has some stories about what coming out did to him you wouldn't believe."

Finn nodded. "It sucks. It's called acting for a reason." Finn took another bite of his fish. "I don't know what it is with some people although…." He paused, remembering. "I used to be a jerk. I remember my dad, before he was my dad, piling into me about it. I'd yelled at Kurt but at least I had the excuse of sixteen and stupid. The people who still campaign now, they're adults. They have no excuse."

Katie nodded and they finished their food. She pushed the plate away with a satisfied sigh. "That was lovely. Thank you."

"No problem. I'm grateful for the company."

Katie's face turned serious again. "Finn, I like you and I've enjoyed this dinner but there's something you need to know. You're not really my type."

"Really? My ego is crushed." He smiled as he said it. He felt the same way. He liked Katie, a lot, and she was devastatingly beautiful, but the spark wasn't sexual. It was intellectual or something. He liked her company but the longer he spent in it, the less he could imagine being in bed with her. Not like Rachel. Shit! To avoid thinking about all that again, Finn pressed Katie. "So, what's your type?"

"Shorter."

Finn laughed. "That's the first time I've been blown off for my height! What else?" Finn watched as Katie searched for the words. She was casting her eyes around the restaurant and he saw them widen.

"Santana?"

"What?"

"Isn't that Santana?"

Finn couldn't see so he stood and peered around the pillar. Katie was right. He could only see the back of her but Finn would have recognised the hair and the way that arrogant head set on those shoulders anywhere. Santana was at a table in the middle of the restaurant. She was alone and from the stiffness of her back, she seemed pretty fed up. "You're right. Excuse me a minute, will you?"

Katie nodded and Finn made his way over to the middle table, ignoring the stares from the diners who hadn't realised he was there. He came up behind her, bent down, kissed her on the cheek and backed away quickly to avoid the punch he suspected would follow.

"What the-. Oh, it's you. You're lucky you still have your head."

Finn took the seat opposite at her table. "Here alone?"

"Not that I particularly want to share," she said, pouting, "but truth is, I've been stood up. She's still nervous about being seen in public with a lesbian." Santana snorted. "Well, at least I'm sure it's going nowhere now."

"Come join us. We're about to have dessert."

"No way. I don't play third wheel for anyone."

"You're not. Trust me. I'm with Katie Cleaver. We're just having dinner."

Santana peered at him. "What's the matter, superstar? Your questionable charms not working or does she just have taste?"

"Both, I suspect. Anyway, come on." One of the waiters was hovering and Finn whispered in his ear. He nodded and Finn watched as he directed another chair and place to be laid at the table next to Katie.

"You buying?"

Fin laughed. It was just like Santana to turn lemons into lemonade for herself. Having him pick up the tab would make the dinner worthwhile despite the humiliation of being stood up. "I'm buying."

"Good," Santana said, standing. "I had the lobster with caviar."

Finn escorted Santana back to his table. "You remember Katie, right?"

"Of course I do. I know it's a novel concept for you but I have a brain." Santana held out her hand. "Nice to see you again, Katie."

Katie stood. "Pleasure's all mine. Please, sit down."

Santana took the new seat and stared as the other two did likewise. "So," she said slowly, "you having a business meeting?"

Katie laughed. "No. Finn was hoping to seduce me."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Finn was bristling a little. It was turning into a dinner scarily reminiscent of one he'd shared with Santana and Brittany years ago. "I just wanted to take a smart, beautiful woman out to dinner." He smirked. "I've ended up with two. What man wouldn't call the evening a triumph?"

Santana ignored him and turned to Katie. "Did he do that puppy-dog thing with the eyes or the gaseous baby one with the lop-sided smirk?" Katie laughed. Finn, resigned to being the butt of all jokes for the rest of the night, sighed. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out. He might as well pick up his messages while the two of them mocked him mercilessly.

+...+

It was two in the morning. Rachel had gone to bed four hours earlier but after tossing, turning and trying to count sheep for hours, she'd finally given up. She wasn't due in tomorrow so at least she didn't have to worry about challenging the make-up team to hide bags under her eyes. Wrapped in a blanket to cover her nightie, she sat in on the patio, listening to the sound of the ocean surf.

It had been a strange evening. After commiserating with Alex, he'd asked her if she wanted to join him for a drink and after a moment's hesitation, she'd agreed. They'd gone to a nearby bar, one that actors and crew often frequented after shooting. A few of the crew were there which made Rachel more comfortable. She wasn't looking for a date. They'd joined them and Rachel sat back as they chatted about the day's events. She supposed she should have felt embarrassed given that all of them except Alex had been on the closed set and seen her in the flesh but she didn't. As far as she was concerned, they'd seen Elsa's body, not hers. She was grateful though that instead of talking about the actors, they stuck to complaining about what a demanding bitch Mary was during all the set ups.

After two diet soft drinks and agreeing to attend a fund-raiser for his charity, Rachel made her excuses, left Alex with the crew and headed for home. Quinn was out. She'd arranged to meet a couple of friends who were in from New York for a couple of days. Quinn had invited Rachel but knowing what she was facing that day, she'd passed. The thing about exposing yourself so publically was that nothing was sweeter than private time. It was a chance to claim yourself back. It was time that could have been spent with a close friend, but not with strangers.

At home, she'd prepared herself a light dinner and picked at it in front of the television. She'd avoided drama. She'd needed comedy or mindless reality, anything to stop her thinking too much. She didn't want to think. The problem was, without food or the noise of the television, as she lay in her bed willing herself to sleep, she couldn't help it.

As the surf beat against the beach, Rachel tried to convince herself that she was happy for him. They would make a handsome couple. At least she wouldn't have to spend her life in high heels or on tip-toes. A sound burst from Rachel, something between a sob and a chuckle. The truth was she wasn't happy, she wasn't happy at all. She was miserable.

When Finn told her he had a date, she thought the open door she'd glimpsed had slammed shut. But then he told her that he still loved her, at least part of him did, and the door to them maybe reconciling opened again. He had to have heard how sorry she was that she hadn't told him about the abortion beforehand. He said he didn't hate her for it and if he didn't hate her, he could forgive her. It had given her the strength to play it cool after his revelation, to laugh at his line about their experience with sex.

For the shoot, she didn't have to struggle to block everything out. The minute she lay in his arms, it was all forgotten. She was home. Rachel knew that it wasn't Elsa in that bed. It was all her and, she had thought, all Finn. It could have screwed up the shoot but Mary seemed satisfied. For Rachel, it was exquisite. She believed even more that Finn was ready to give them a chance. Maybe he still was but she wished it wasn't Katie. She liked her and didn't want to interfere.

You liked Quinn too, despite her being a bitch to you. You didn't let her get in your way.

Rachel shook her head angrily. She was an adult now. She had learned to respect boundaries and for now, Finn was off-limits. She had to face it.

Thinking about Quinn, Rachel wondered if she was back. She hadn't heard her come in. Rachel rose from the deckchair and crept softly to the door of Quinn's room. After a moment with her ear to the door and cursing that of course perfect Quinn wouldn't snore, she opened if carefully. She could see a shape under the covers. As she was closing the door, her phone rang. Desperately so as not to wake Quinn, she pulled the door to and raced to find it, to stop it ringing.

"Hello," she said breathlessly. It only then occurred to her to start to panic about what a call in the middle of the night might mean.

"Rachel? It's Mary McCormick."

"Mary? Do you know what time it is?"

"I do and I'm sorry to call so late but I need you in first thing ready to shoot your scene with the band and the other one."

Rachel cursed. She was going to have to work on three hours sleep. "What's going on? I'm not due in until Thursday."

"We've had to re-jig the schedule. Finn's not available tomorrow and we're trying to avoid shutting down production. We may still have to, but we're going to try and get all the remaining scenes that don't involve him in the can."

Rachel felt like she'd been punched. "What's happened to Finn?"

"It's not Finn. It's his mother. Car accident. He's on his way back to Ohio now. It doesn't sound good."

Drumm: Chapter Twenty-One

"It doesn't make sense."

Drumm had already been chewed out for being seen, leading to his dangerous encounter with Sallis. Finally, they were getting around to what it meant that Jason Montana had a connection to the club, both for the Cantor case and for finding out who killed Theo.

"The Pink Leopard doesn't open until 8pm. He's never been there when I've been there, I'd swear to it. He wasn't there the night Theo died, I know. I've got every face memorised." Alyssa was staring at the picture Theo took of Montana. "Not at least in the public areas or behind the stage. The rooms upstairs are just empty bedrooms until used by the girls. Unless there's a basement or some secret door, and I've seen nothing to suggest there is, he's out before the club opens. The only place I can't get into is Sallis' office. Maybe he's in there doing… something."

It was 7:15. Alyssa was dressed for the club. Sid had told her to pull out of the surveillance without burning bridges and she was due to set up her exit that night, but now they were re-assessing. She'd have to go soon.

"I know it's crazy 'cause he's a fucking scientist but could he be a cleaner?"

Sid and Alyssa shook their heads. "You're right, Drumm," Sid said. "It sounds crazy and it doesn't make sense. Do we have any knowledge of who's in the club at this time of day?"

Alyssa shook her head. "Cleaners, I suppose, they have to be there sometime in the day and one of them could have let him in. Sallis and his crew probably go in and out so it could be any of them too."

"Plus rehearsals." The other two looked over at Drumm. "Elsa and the band. They were there today. They'd need to rehearse pretty regularly unless she does the same sets every night. Does she?" Alyssa shook her head. Sid chewed his lip.

"Okay. Alyssa, you're gonna have to stay in place. Are you okay for that?"

Drumm shifted uncomfortably at Sid's question. He knew the only reason that Alyssa might not be okay was because of him. He kept his head down.

"Yeah, I think so," Alyssa said. "Tony is expecting more now than he's gonna get but I can handle him." Drumm could feel the glare she cast in his direction. "The only question is whether or not Sallis or, more likely, Elsa is suspicious about me luring Tony away for a few hours and I'll know better after tonight."

"If you're good, find out what you can about who's in the club in the daytime. Unless Montana is doing something with Sallis, they seem to be the most likely ones to be around. If we can work out who's letting him in, we might be able to work out what he's doing there."

"What about Sophie Cantor? I told her I'd find Montana for her. What do I tell her?"

"Nothing," Sid said firmly. "Not yet. There's a connection between Cantor Corp and the Pink Leopard and I don't believe in coincidences. If Theo found the same connection, well, let's just say that we need to know a lot more than we do now before we tell anybody anything."

"There's the obvious connection, of course."

The men glanced at Alyssa and nodded. Drugs were the connection. Sallis was making his mark as a dealer in customized drugs and to do it, he needed resources, both in materials and in skills. Montana had the knowledge and, at least until he left Cantor Corp, access to the materials in plenty. The simplest explanation was that Montana was working for Sallis. Occam's Razor hadn't helped much with Elsa though, Drumm thought wryly.

"Okay," Sid said, "we can't really make any decisions on Montana until we pick him up again. Alyssa, stay but be careful tonight and confirm you're in the clear, right? Be ready. If there's any doubt, you're out."

"Old man, you remember who you're talking to?" Alyssa's brows were raised in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, you can take on the world single-handed," Sid responded. "But I mean it. Be careful out there." Alyssa nodded and took off for the club.

"What can I do?"

Sid turned his attention to Drumm and appraised him critically. "You really want an answer to that?"

"Come on, Sid. That's enough punishment. I want to help."

Sid sighed. "I know but right now, it's wait and see. There's something you can help me with but it's brain work. I'm not sure you can handle it."

Drumm groaned. "I'm sorry! How many times-"

"I wasn't joking."

That stung. "Whatever it is, I can try."

Sid nodded. "Okay. I want to set up a board." Off Drumm's confused look, Sid explained. "An incident board for Theo. We put down the connections, incidents, suspects, everything in a way that seeks to uncover things we're not seeing. I said I wasn't joking because it takes experience not to turn it into meaningless clutter that's less helpful than a case of the clap. Theo never saw the need for one – he'd do it in his head – but I think it would help now we've got a definite link."

"So, do we have a board?"

"No, and that's something you can do. That place on 14th is open until ten. Get a whiteboard. They're expensive so I'll cover it but they're a lot better than chalkboards. Pick up some magnets to attach stuff and some pens. Bring them back here and I'll make a start." Sid hobbled to Theo's office and grabbed some money from the petty cash box. Handing it to Drumm, he added, "Don't go psychedelic, Drumm. We just need black, blue, maybe a red and a green. See if they have any of that tape you can use on them. Oh, and get a cover. We don't want the clients reading it."

After an hour or so and with a few bumps and scrapes, Drumm manoeuvred the whiteboard into the main office and set it up against one wall. Sid was in Theo's office fast asleep in his chair. They all called him old man but Drumm still forgot sometimes how true it was. It wasn't so much the years but Sid's arthritis was taking its toll. He had to be in pain most of the time and it was robbing him of what was left of his vitality. As Drumm examined the relaxed face, pain-free only in sleep, he saw how different it was to Sid's waking visage and his heart ached a little. He certainly wasn't going to wake him up.

Drumm went back to the main office and stared at the blank whiteboard. Sid had said it takes experience to do one and anything he did would probably be wiped away tomorrow but he had nothing to lose but a night's sleep. Drumm set to work.

+...+

"Wake up, sleepy head."

Drumm's head jerked up off the desk. It took a moment for him to focus on the figure standing in front of him. She was holding a bunch of flowers.

"Lise-Marie!" It took him another moment to remember the whiteboard. He glanced over and was relieved to see he'd covered it before he fell asleep. He'd couldn't believe he'd left the front door open either. Who needed burglars when Drumm was doing his best to let them just walk in? He looked back at Lise-Marie. "Those for me?" he asked as he stood, walked around the desk and pulled her into a partial hug to avoid crushing the stems.

"Of course not," she said shortly. "I'm going to the hospital to see Jack and his sister."

"You mad at me?"

"What? No! Yes! I don't know." She glared at him and then sighed. "Do I mean anything to you, Drumm?"

Drumm knew he needed to tread carefully but he wasn't going to lie. "Yes. You're a very good friend."

"That's it?"

Drumm nodded before hurrying onto an explanation. "Cherie, we had some good times but we both know it was just that, don't we?"

"Yeah, I suppose so." Whatever they'd had, they'd never been exclusive and they'd never taken it seriously. "Is there somebody else?"

Drumm hesitated. Was there? "Yes. No. Not really, but maybe one day, if she ever trusts me and vice versa."

Lise-Marie was staring at him quizzically but he wasn't going to share his twisted feelings for Elsa Canotti. She nodded and took a breath. "Right, okay. Anyway, you wanted to talk to me about something?" Drumm found it hard to believe that it was only a couple of days since he'd gone to the squat to see her. So much had happened.

"I did. I need your help." He refused to let the arched eyebrow in response worry him. He remembered what Jack said and knew Jack was right. "Remember the night before Theo's funeral?" She nodded slowly. It figured that it was also the last time they'd had sex. "Well, Theo's ex-wife is suing for the agency. There was a condition in Theo's will that if I took drugs in the year following his death, it would revert to Lisa. I need you to-" He stopped. He was asking a favour. "Would you be willing to testify that you saw the heroin and that, at least until you left, I didn't take it? And also that I was fine at the funeral?"

"Fine?"

"Drug-free to all appearances anyway."

She stared up at him and smiled. "Of course. Did you take it?"

"No. I flushed it down the john."

"Do you want me to say that I saw you flush it down the toilet?"

"What?" Drumm hesitated. It would solve a lot of problems if she did. He looked around the agency and sighed. "No, I don't want you to lie, just tell the truth."

"Okay. You'll have to tell me when."

"You have some place to be?"

Lise-Marie held her breath and then let it out slowly. "I'm leaving the band, Drumm. I'm going back home. My step-father's dead now and my mom wants to try and reconnect and, I don't know why, but I think I do too. I'm spending more and more of each day wanting to strangle Johnny and Mags and I don't like it. That's not who I am. I'm fed up of living in a squat and I think it's time to grow up. You know what that feels like."

Drumm took the flowers, put them on the desk and pulled Lise-Marie into a full hug. He kissed the top of her head. "I do," he said sadly. "But are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think so. There are bands in Montreal and I'm looking forward to singing in French again."

"I'll miss you."

"Me too," she said, pulling out of his arms and grabbing the flowers, "but I think it's for the best, for my best, you know?"

"Have you told Jack?"

"That's what the flowers are for," she said, grinning impishly. "I reckon that if I present them first, he won't get too mad at me."

Drumm laughed. "You're probably right. Look, let me know when you're going. If you need any help, just let me know."

"I'll be fine, cherie." She kissed his cheek. "Good luck with your yes/no girl. I mean it." She walked away with a wave and a smile.

Drumm watched her go. He really was going to miss her. She'd always been there for him and it was no different now. He wished he had been so reliable for her. He sighed.

Drumm heard the phone ring but it stopped before he reached it. Was Sid still here? Drumm walked down the hall and opened the inner office door. Sid was talking quietly and Drumm heard him say, "Thanks, Elizabeth. Can you keep us informed?" After a moment, he put down the phone. He looked up at Drumm.

"That was Elizabeth Mortimer. She picked up a body from the river last night. It's been positively identified as Jason Montana. He was shot first, then dumped."

"What? He's dead." Drumm couldn't believe it. "Fuck!"

"She wants to come in and talk to us about what we know. She'll be here in a couple of hours. Drumm, I don't need to tell you that we're not going to be able to protect our client or that girlfriend of yours."

"Girlfriend? You mean Elsa? What's she got to do with it?"

"Besides being in the club yesterday afternoon when he was last seen alive, you mean?"

Crap, Drumm thought. That was true enough. He had to remind himself that he didn't trust her anymore than Sid did. Yet, whatever she was, whatever she was playing at, he still couldn't see her as a murderer despite what he'd said to her yesterday.

"Don't just stand there with your mouth open. Help me out of this chair. My body's not built for sleeping at my desk.

Drumm raced forward and took Sid's arm, trying to pull him up gently. He could see the strain on Sid's face and he couldn't stand properly, even for him. "Sid, you need to go home, get some proper sleep."

"I'm fine, kid," Sid lied. "You want to know the rest?"

"Yeah, besides Elsa being at the club. Why are the cops interested in her?"

"They've got a witness. Claims to have seen her arguing with Montana in the Pink Leopard shortly before he died."

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