A/N: Greetings, everyone!
Anonymous Review:
faberryrules - Thank you! I'm really glad you're liking the story so far :) I hope you like this new chapter!
Guest - Yeah, they really can't so far! Thanks for the review!
Now, with out further ado, happy reading!
Later, they cuddled in front of the TV, fed each other popcorn, and watched a romantic comedy. Quinn said it gave her naughty ideas. Rachel laughed and agreed that they would have to experiment a little, but maybe tomorrow.
"Are you telling me you don't want to make love again tonight?" Quinn teased.
"Are you telling me you do?" Rachel asked skeptically.
Quinn took her time responding. "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," she explained, grinning.
The expression on her face made Rachel laugh harder. "There's nothing weak about your flesh," she chided, knowing the blonde was more worried about her being tender.
Her statement brought back the wicked grin she loved so much.
"I'll remember that," Quinn said with a wink.
When they finally went to bed, they held each other close, mingling soft whispers with even softer kisses and caresses. It was another unique and wonderful experience for Rachel. One she knew she would treasure the rest of her life.
They fell asleep in each other's arms, but her dreams were anything but peaceful. Rachel dreamed of a house on fire, a raging inferno with black, billowing smoke and out-of-control flames licking at a midnight sky. Silent screams tore at her throat as she watched, terrified and helpless, while her family's home burned.
The dream had plagued her in the early years after she had been orphaned, but now it took on a new and sinister twist. As she watched the house burning, she saw Quinn's face at the window. She stared at her, her expression accusing and filled with hate as the flames engulfed her.
Rachel fought her way out of the nightmare. Tremors shook her body until she could force the terror of her dream out of her mind. Soaked in sweat but chilled to the bone, she felt locked in a time warp. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she tried to rationalize the horror her mind had conjured, but it didn't help.
Then Quinn's arms enfolded her, drawing her close to her side. Quinn sensed her trauma and mumbled soft, reassuring words of comfort. Her hands gently stroked Rachel's back and shoulders until some of the tension began to subside.
Rachel finally relaxed, snuggling closer and basking in the blonde's tenderness. Her renegade was so incredibly special. Rachel loved her beyond words and reason. She wanted to block out all the ugliness and take comfort in Quinn's arms, but she knew she wouldn't get another minute's rest.
When Quinn had drifted back to sleep, Rachel stayed in her arms until her grip relaxed. Then she carefully slid from the blonde's side and climbed out of bed. Dawn was nearing, so she knew it wouldn't be too early to call Leroy. She tiptoed into the living room and phoned his apartment.
He answered and they exchanged greetings, but he immediately sensed her tension. "What's wrong?"
"I think it's time for us to get Quinn out of this situation," she told him, her tone clipped and decisive.
There was a pause, and then Leroy's response. "I agree, but I got the impression there's something special going on between the two of you."
"There is, but there's no way we can pursue it right now. Quinn's already given up too much. She deserves to have her life back," she insisted. "Have charges been filed against her?"
"No. I took care of it. The Assistant US Attorney told Hudson's lawyers that the charges wouldn't stick."
"Then there's no reason Quinn can't go home."
"It's for the best. You don't need any distractions right now."
The thought of Quinn leaving made her heart ache, so she suggested a way to make it easier. "I'm not going to give her a choice."
"Maybe you'd better tell me exactly what you are planning."
She could almost hear his frown, but that didn't deter her. "I'm going to be the one who leaves. I'll go on up the coast a ways." Rachel didn't mention her destination over the phone, but Leroy would know.
Edith Wilding had been her foster mother for a short time before the Berrys had taken her in. Edith had no blood relatives, but she was a surrogate aunt to many. Her house had always been considered an alternative safe house, since she had no traceable connection to anyone in the agency.
"You're going to drive my car?"
"If you don't mind."
"No problem. Take Special Agent Payne with you. He's young and won't mind being gone a few days. He's also smart and totally trustworthy. I'll let him know about the change of plans."
Now that the decision had his stamp of approval, Rachel felt all sad and weepy again. She wouldn't cry. She was supposed to be a professional, and this was a professional decision.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Thanks, Leroy. I can't tell you how much it means to me."
"You just take care of yourself and call when you're settled. Don't take any chances, and don't worry about Fabray. I'll deal with her when she calls to raise hell."
Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry to dump it on you, but I'd rather leave without her knowing. She'll try to talk me out of it and make things even more complicated."
She didn't want to waste time arguing with Quinn. It would be hard enough to leave her. She'd be hurt, angry, and probably hate her for taking matters into her own hands, but Rachel could live with that as long as she knew the blonde was safe. Quinn needed time to rebuild her home and her life.
"Leave her a note so she doesn't freak out when she realizes you're gone. I'll explain when I get there," Leroy responded.
"She'll be furious."
They both knew that was a gross understatement.
"Yeah. Can't say I blame her, but I've been a casualty of her wrath before and survived. It's part of the job description."
Rachel thanked him again, and then hung up the phone. The weight of her decision lay heavily on her heart, but she knew it was the right thing to do. It was the only solution at this point.
Quinn would be so disappointed in her, and that saddened her most of all. Rachel would lose her trust and respect, but she would be free of the baggage Rachel brought to the relationship. She didn't want Quinn embroiled in months, possibly years, of legal battles to bring Finn and his men to justice.
She wanted Quinn to have a choice. It was the only thing she could give her, and it was important to her own emotional well-being. She couldn't live in fear of losing Quinn the way she'd lost her family.
After quietly packing a suitcase, she took one precious minute to study the blonde's sleeping form. Her heart ached as she slipped out of the house into the darkness.
Quinn woke when sunshine poured into the bedroom. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked at the invading light, dragging herself from the deepest sleep she had had in months. She stretched, enjoying the pull of her muscles as she worked out the stiffness.
Memories of the previous day seeped into her mind. A deep, anticipatory smile creased her face, and a deeper yearning settled into her gut at the thought of burying herself in the sweet, passionate woman at her side.
Then she reached for Rachel.
The brunette wasn't in bed, which dampened her spirits considerably. Quinn wanted a kiss and a snuggle and some special loving to start their day. She'd gotten really fond of having the shorter woman in her arms.
Tossing back the sheet, she climbed from bed and headed for the bathroom, hoping to find her ladylove close by. She didn't hear the shower running, but Rachel could be naked and need some help getting dry. Her smile returned at the thought.
But the bathroom was empty with no evidence that Rachel had recently showered. After brushing her teeth and splashing some water on her face, she went back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a fitted T-shirt. Then she followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen, thinking the brunette must be making some breakfast for them.
But the kitchen was empty, too, and the coffeepot had a timer. There was no beautiful woman waiting for her.
Suddenly, all the hair on her body stood on end. She tensed, her body going rigid as she realized how unnaturally quiet the place seemed. There was no sound indicating the presence of anyone else in the house.
"Rachel!" Fear surged through her as she yelled and tore through the house searching for her.
"Rachel!"
How stupid could she be? Quinn should have realized she wasn't there the instant she woke alone. She continued to yell her name as she did a room by room search, checking closets, the basement, and attic until she grew hoarse and there was nowhere else to check.
Retracing her steps, she looked out windows, checking the grounds, trying to convince herself that Rachel had just slipped outside for a minute. She opened the kitchen door and yelled for her again.
She didn't answer, and the silence caused a new upheaval of panic. Had Hudson's men gotten past the other agents? Could they have snatched Rachel from the house without Quinn knowing? How could she have been so stupid? She had relaxed her guard too soon, too much, and had slept like the dead.
Quinn had failed her again, and her chest constricted at the thought of her being alone or at the mercy of Hudson's goons. She had to find her.
"Rachel!"
Fear and pain mingled in the frantic repetition of her name. What if the agents outside were unconscious or dead? Quinn reached for the phone, quickly punching in the beeper number for one of the guards. Then she held the receiver to her ear and waited for a response, hoping there would be one.
When the phone rang, she growled her relief at the caller. "This is Fabray. Where the hell is Agent Berry?"
The reply came hesitantly. "Would that be the deputy director you're looking for, ma'am, or Special Agent Berry?"
Quinn ground her teeth in frustration at the man's calm question. "Special Agent Berry. You're supposed to be guarding her, remember?"
"No, ma'am," the agent replied quietly. "Special Agent Berry left a couple of hours ago with Special Agent Payne."
"What do you mean, left?" Quinn shouted, body shuddering as her temper shot upward. "Where the hell did they go? The grocery store? She's not supposed to leave the house without armed guards. Why the hell would they risk going anywhere?"
"That I don't know, ma'am. My orders are to stay here and make sure nobody gets close to the house. You'll have to call the deputy director if you want details."
Quinn swore viciously as she jammed the receiver down and then lifted it again for a dial tone. She punched in Berry's private number and then waited the interminable time it took for the man to answer.
"Berry."
Quinn didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Where the hell is Rachel? I can't believe you let her leave this house. Have you lost your mind?!" she exploded.
"You're always so cheerful in the morning, Fabray."
Berry's attempt at lightness didn't impress her. "Your man outside said that she left with Payne. What the hell is going on?" she snapped.
"We decided it was time for her to move to another safe house."
"You what?!" Quinn knew she was losing it. She was yelling at the top of her lungs because she could barely draw air into them. A suffocating tightness had settled there. "You moved her without clearing it with me? You let her sneak out of here in the dead of night with one young, inexperienced agent? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"We decided it was best," Berry explained patiently.
Quinn heard the sympathy in his voice, and it chilled her to the bone. "Are you saying Rachel agreed without an argument or a word of goodbye?"
"She said she'd leave a note."
That didn't reassure her in the least. "I want to know where she went." Her tone went cold and implacable.
"You know I can't tell you that."
"Can't?" Quinn's response was feral, but she knew she was wasting her time. She slammed down the phone and started prowling the house again, looking for the note Rachel was supposed to have left her.
Quinn found it on the telephone stand in the living room. A plain white envelope bearing her name was propped against a flower vase. Hand trembling, she reached for it and tore the envelope to get to the scrap of paper inside:
Dear Quinn:
I'm sorry to leave you so abruptly, but it was time for me to move to another safe house.
Please go home and take care of your house and business. I promise I'll have Leroy keep you apprised of the agency's case against Finn.
Thank you so much for keeping me safe. I'll forever be grateful that you were the one who helped me escape and begin to heal.
Yours, Rachel
Yours, Rachel? Quinn raked a hand through her hair, shaking her head in rejection of that. Rachel wasn't hers and never had been, except maybe in Quinn's mind. If the brunette really cared about her, then why wasn't she here?
Why had she slipped away in secret to escape her? Had Quinn gotten too close to her heart or had she just feared Quinn was beginning to care more than Rachel could ever reciprocate?
Gone. Quinn couldn't believe Rachel had been coldhearted enough to leave with nothing more than a few pathetic words on a slip of paper, to leave knowing there was no way she could follow to her newest hiding place.
Impotent fury raged through her, followed by a pain so excruciating that she began to tremble. She couldn't move, couldn't seem to catch her breath.
Then a sound near the door snapped her head in that direction. She wasn't sure she could trust her eyes.
Rachel had entered the house and slowly moved toward her. Rachel's gaze settled on her face. Then she spoke quietly, hesitantly. "I was hoping I could make it back before you woke up and found that," she said.
Her voice sounded as shaky as Quinn felt. Quinn soaked up the sweetness of it, her eyes feasting on the brunette. Rachel looked so good, so precious, so sweetly repentant. Quinn's throat tightened, and her body stiffened. The violent, involuntary reactions had her grinding her teeth.
Quinn crushed the note in her fist and then wadded it into a tight ball and threw it as hard as she could. It didn't go far, but the action offered minimal relief to the crippling tension of her body.
She turned and headed to the bedroom without a word. Once there, she stripped off her shorts and pulled on some jeans. Her movements were fast and furious, but no amount of activity could calm her seething anger – an anger directed at herself more than Rachel. She should know by now that caring too much always led to heartache and regrets.
Quinn had just sat on the bed to put on socks when Rachel appeared in the doorway.
"You'd better keep your distance," the blonde warned as she fought to control her temper. Rachel had wounded her with her rejection and mistrust. When Quinn hurt, she got angry.
"I don't blame you for being furious—" Rachel started.
"Don't you?" Quinn snapped. "That's generous."
Rachel flinched at her tone, but Quinn was beyond caring. Rachel had made it clear that she wanted her out of her life as painlessly as possible. So be it. Quinn would leave and never look back. She didn't need the humiliation of being dumped. Didn't need the pain and anger and gnawing need.
"I wish you'd let me explain," Rachel begged.
"Explain!" Quinn shouted, surging to her feet and glaring at her. "Forget the explanations. Actions speak a whole hell of a lot louder than words."
"I'm sorry—"
Quinn cut her off with another sharp exclamation, too angry to listen to reason. "Save the sorries. You made your point, and you're right. It's time we parted ways."
"You're going?" Rachel asked, surprised.
Quinn nodded. "That's right. I'm going home and wiping my hands of this whole mess."
Rachel flinched and went pale.
Quinn's chest tightened at the sight, and she cursed herself for caring. Then she funneled the emotion into more anger. "I'm tired of being jerked around to suit your needs. I'm tired of playing puppet with you and Berry controlling the strings. I thought we had something special between us, but that must have been just another attempt to keep me in line so that you could jerk me around some more. Well, I'm not interested in explanations or apologies."
When she'd finished, they stared at each other for a pregnant moment. Rachel waited to make sure she had finished her tirade. Then she looked the blonde straight in the eyes.
"I hadn't been gone an hour before I realized I had to come back." Her voice quivered, and she swallowed hard. When Quinn didn't interrupt or start yelling again, she continued. "I've never thought of myself as a coward, but leaving here without a word was a spineless way to handle the situation. I rationalized the decision in all the usual ways, but the truth finally hit me. I was running away again. The same way I've done most of my life, and I'm tired of running."
Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper. She shifted her gaze so that she wasn't looking directly at the blonde anymore, but Quinn couldn't take her eyes off her. Rachel looked so fragile and weary, so unsure and unlike the lover she knew.
Quinn needed to stroke her anger and pretend she didn't care, yet she couldn't bear seeing the brunette so shaken.
"I got scared, really, truly scared, and I hate being scared," Rachel confessed raggedly.
When her lips quivered, Quinn's heart clenched. Rachel's admission cracked through some of the blonde's newly polished armor. A good part of her remaining anger stemmed from the scare Rachel had given her, but they needed to hash this out.
"I thought you were fearless," she taunted.
"I thought so, too," Rachel said, searching the blonde's face with eyes that made Quinn's skin prickle with awareness. "After my family was murdered, I couldn't shake the guilt of surviving. No amount of counseling can completely wipe that out of a person's system. Leroy accused me of having a death wish, and maybe he was right."
"You have a death wish?" The question seemed ripped from her soul.
"Not anymore," Rachel swore. "That's what frightens me so much. I didn't used to care if I lived or died. I only cared about vengeance and seeing Finn brought to justice. Nothing and nobody ever tempted me to veer from a path of self-destruction."
Quinn finally realized what the brunette was telling her. "Until me," she injected hoarsely.
"Until you," she answered softly, her gaze locking again with hers. "You made me care again. You made me start thinking of a future and the possibility of a real, normal life. You made me feel things I didn't want to feel. It…scares me."
Her honesty and vulnerability stole the rest of the anger from Quinn, leaving her just as vulnerable. She unclenched her fists and took the steps that brought Rachel within reach. Then she cupped her face in her hands, tilting it upward and forcing the brunette to lock gazes with her. "Do you care? Really care about more than the great sex?" she asked, her thumbs stroking the softness of Rachel's cheeks.
"Yes," she whispered softly, sincerely.
Quinn closed her eyes, and then reopened them. She wasn't ready to proclaim her everlasting love, nor was she ready to let her go. "I think we've got something special going, and we should give it a chance."
Rachel's expression went from vulnerable to incredibly sad. "I don't see how," she insisted. "I've been on this crusade to punish Finn for too long to let it go now. My life can never be my own. Even if he's found guilty and put behind bars, there will be years and years of appeals."
Quinn could feel her pain and disillusionment as she continued to bare her heart.
"He'll still want me dead, and he'll still have the wealth and power to have me hunted. I'll never be completely safe, and I'd never ask anyone I care about to live that kind of life. I saw what it did to my parents. I couldn't bear having it happen all over again."
Quinn finally cut off the flow of words with a kiss. She hadn't planned to kiss her, but she didn't know any other way to stop the outpouring of worry and fear. She understood Rachel's concerns now, but they would find a way.
"If we let him destroy our relationship, then he wins," Quinn told her, nibbling on her lips. She felt Rachel's sharp intake of breath and knew she understood. "He's been controlling your life for too long," she added. "It stops here. You're not the only one who wants him to pay for his crimes. It's us against him." With that, she dipped her head for another kiss.
Rachel wrapped her arms around the blonde and leaned into the kiss. Their mouths locked, tongues searching, soothing, and then demanding. In a matter of seconds, heat exploded between them, but Rachel suddenly pulled away.
"There's something else."
Quinn knew by her tone and expression that she wasn't going to like it.
"I was wrong to run today, but I'm right about you going home. You need to take care of things in Colorado, or Finn will have succeeded in destroying that, too," she said.
"The insurance company can handle the details," Quinn argued, not voicing her own concerns.
"We need some distance between us for a while." Quinn opened her mouth to argue, but Rachel pressed a finger against her lips. "Please," she coaxed.
The blonde nodded, and Rachel continued.
"The psychologists warned me about becoming too dependent on anyone who helped me escape the undercover work. I know what we have is much stronger than that, but I'll never be sure unless we give it some time and distance."
"That's bull," Quinn grumbled. "How we met isn't what counts. It's how we feel now."
Rachel smiled. "I know, but I'm going to be trapped in a safe house with round-the-clock guards for the next few weeks. I don't want you to be forced to live that way."
Quinn raised a brow. "You think I'll resent having to spend time with you? That makes me pretty shallow, don't you think? Sounds like you just want to be rid of me while you reevaluate our relationship."
"I didn't mean it that way," Rachel said on a sigh. "It's just not practical for you to go into hiding when you could be taking care of things at home. The agency will give you protection if you want, but Leroy doesn't want me that far from D.C."
"You've talked to him, and he's suggesting we don't see each other again until after Hudson's trial?" she asked.
Rachel nodded. "He thinks it's the safest thing to do at this point."
Her lips found Quinn's pulse at her throat. When she sucked at the flesh, Quinn drew in a breath and her body started to sing with anticipation. A rush of possessiveness nearly brought her to her knees. No other woman had ever given her so much or claimed so much of her soul. Rachel's virginal innocence combined with her innate sensuality made Quinn feel humble and needy.
"Maybe we can manage to rendezvous every once in a while, providing you're interested," Rachel whispered huskily.
If I'm interested? Quinn would have to be dead not to be interested, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to happen.
Swinging the smaller woman into her arms, Quinn carried her to the bed, and then fell on it with her. She locked her arms around the brunette and moaned with delight as Rachel held on just as tightly. Everything else could wait until they had found a physical release for all the pent-up emotion.
Then they could talk logistics.
Paris, France
Steven studied his image in the mirror. Short, thin, balding, and nondescript. That was the real Steven Partoll's reflection, but he never left France without a disguise. In all the years he'd traveled the world, he'd always presented a different, unmemorable façade. Interpol had a photo of him on file, as did the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation, but those images were just two of the many faces he'd used and discarded.
They called him Le Ferret, but he despised the appellation. It sounded more like a rodent than the powerful beast of prey he epitomized. He had privately called himself Le Parisian, a proud, suitable nickname for a national treasure, he thought, his laughter echoing through the spartan apartment.
This would be his last job, and he'd decided to be himself. The idea was so ingenious that he laughed out loud. Who would ever suspect a mild-mannered, small-time tabloid editor of being a hired assassin? Who'd ever guess he topped Interpol's list of most wanted international hit men?
He planned to retire on the five million Hudson had promised. The first million had already been deposited into his Swiss account. The rest would be transferred once the hit had been confirmed.
He'd considered taking the million and disappearing. Hudson was in no position to come after him, he thought smugly, but even professional criminals had reputations to uphold. He planned to retire in a blaze of glory that no one would ever duplicate.
Besides, this would be the ultimate test, a challenge unlike any other. The hit would go down in a U.S. federal courthouse, with metal detectors, armed guards, and the FBI's finest agents. The job would be his swan song, his pièce de résistance. Others might view it as a suicide mission, but they didn't have his skill and daring.
He was the best, and this job would prove it. He intended to live a long and pampered life with the earnings from this final paycheck. He already had his sights set on a lush plantation in South America. He planned a complete physical transformation with the best plastic surgery money could buy. He'd grow a little opium for pleasure, buy the favors of some beautiful mademoiselles, and thumb his nose at international extradition treaties.
The woman.
He should have killed her years ago outside her family's burning home. He'd recognized her among the horrified bystanders, but it had been too late. He hadn't dared to draw attention to himself at that point, so he'd let her live.
It had been his first job, and he'd done it for a mere pittance. His brow creased at the memory. Hudson had put a price on each family member's head, so he had lied and sworn they were all dead.
She had been a dent in his pride for years, but he'd been given a chance to restore his self-image. This job would prove, once and for all, that no man could match him in courage and cunning.
Viva le Parisian.
A/N: Dun, dun, dunnnnnn! My, my, things are starting to come to a head, huh? There are only two more chapters left, so we'll see how this turns out! Bye!