A/N: Why hello, there, all!
So, it's been what...5 years? Yeah, sorry about that. But, you know, life and all that. Some good things, some bad things, etc.
Anyway, I'm just here to say that I have not forgotten about this story and will be finishing it! I'm dedicated to finishing this one soon (with regular updates!) and then moving on to other stories that I have floating around my little head.
I want to shout out to bluecapri, if you're even still reading this story, for all of your messages encouraging me to continue this story! I'm sorry I fell off of the radar...things and stuff...yeah. *shrugs*
Lastly, this chapter is dedicated to my awesome wifey (in real life) imjustagirl2004, who has been pushing me *constantly* to update this story and do others. So, thanks (in part) to her nagging, here we go! Also, thanks a million to her fixing my typos haha!
Happy Reading!
The marina came into view just as Rachel finished explaining, and she caught her breath at the sight. There were boats in all sizes and shapes. Some were moored while others were coming or going on the water. The whole place was bigger, more modern, and a lot more commercial than she remembered, but the overall beauty still held her in awe.
Rachel's heart thudded heavily in her chest as emotion ballooned inside her. She could visualize her parents holding hands, laughing, and teasing while her brother chased after them, always skipping and chattering. There hadn't been many happy, carefree times for her family, but they had shared one wonderful week here.
The precious memories brought a lump to her throat and a rush of rare tears to her eyes. She swiftly blinked them away as Quinn parked the car.
The blonde turned more fully toward her, and Rachel knew that Quinn had sensed a change in her. The other woman's demeanor underwent a subtle change, too.
Rachel clenched her teeth and turned her head to avoid Quinn's probing gaze. She hated feeling so emotionally fragile. The memories were private and cherished, so she kept them carefully guarded in her heart.
"Are you okay?" Quinn asked tentatively.
Rachel wanted to allay Quinn's concern by responding in a crisp, no-nonsense fashion, but her voice failed her. To cover her awkwardness and give herself more time, Rachel grabbed her bag and searched for a wallet. Once she had found it, she opened the door and climbed from the car without a word.
Quinn got out of the car and followed her toward the marina. "So, how are we registering?" she inquired.
Rachel paused, forcing herself to regroup. She swallowed the last of her tears and turned to the taller woman. "Think we can get by with separate names and IDs?"
Quinn cocked a brow with just the slightest hint of a smirk playing across her mouth. "You do realize we're both women and no one would question us renting a boat together, right? We don't have to pretend to be married. We could just be friends," she explained. "Or lovers," she added, her eyes challenging Rachel to refute.
Rachel blushed at her mistake, but the blonde's suggestion sent a shiver of awareness over her, her mind reeling with the implications of the two women being intimately connected. However, Rachel simply humphed in response, pretending that the idea was too annoying to consider.
Since Rachel was handling the money, the houseboat was rented under the alias Donna Elise Simmons. The normal check-in time wasn't until three p.m., but due to the last-minute cancellation, their boat was ready to be boarded.
They left the car in a hillside parking area and hauled everything onto the boat. A dock attendant gave them a quick tour and basic watercraft instructions. Shortly after noon, they were casting off and making their way toward less congested waters.
Rachel quickly accustomed herself to the hum of the engine and its steady vibration as they glided over water as smooth as glass. The sun shone brightly, making everything sparkle with a freshness that soothed her nerves within minutes.
Quinn settled behind the steering wheel, just inside the combined living room and kitchen area. She wore a short-sleeved powder blue fitted T-shirt that made the green and gold flecks in her hazel eyes appear simultaneously brighter and deeper. Rachel alternately admired the beauty of their surroundings as well as the blonde's physique. The shirt emphasized the soft swell of her breasts as well as her flat, lightly toned stomach, and Rachel's fingers twitched in desire to feel the blonde's skin underneath the fabric of her shirt.
Rachel's gaze traveling lower, her eyes settled on Quinn's lean, milky thighs, which were encased in red and white shorts that left little to the imagination. Eyes half-lidded, Rachel licked her dry lips, all of the moisture in her body having pooled at the apex of her thighs, and found herself wishing she knew what it felt like to have those soft yet muscular legs wrapped around her waist as the blonde writhed in ecstasy underneath her. Get a grip, Rachel! Shaking her head to rid her mind of the unbidden thoughts and to calm down her raging pulse, Rachel silently admonished herself for mentally drooling over her blonde companion and tried to concentrate on the water.
"It really is gorgeous here, isn't it?" she remarked after the throbbing between her legs subsided somewhat.
Quinn didn't look her way but smiled wryly. "Yes, and probably one of the last places Hudson would expect his high-society lover to hide."
"I'm not really, you know," Rachel insisted. At that, Quinn glanced over at the smaller woman inquisitively and Rachel bit back the words she almost blurted in self-defense. Knowing it was safer to let the blonde believe she had the morals of an alley cat, Rachel rephrased her response carefully. "I'm not really a high-society type."
Quinn raised a brow but only muttered, "If you say so," as she turned her attention back to the water.
All of a sudden, Rachel felt the strength drain from her limbs. Exhaustion overtook her with unexpected speed and force. She stared blankly at the water, then at Quinn.
"Are you okay?" the blonde asked, concern creasing her brows.
"I'm tired," was all she had the energy to say.
Quinn's laugh came out more as one, staccato bark than genuine laughter. "I'll bet you are. You have been running on nothing but caffeine and nerves for days. Why don't you get some sleep?"
Barely registering the other woman's question, Rachel simply said, "Okay," and then moved toward the sleeping compartments, her feet and limbs feeling like lead. She fell across the first bed she found and dropped off to sleep within seconds.
Quinn spent the rest of the afternoon learning her way around the lake. A map hung above the steering compartment that displayed the overall size and shape of the waterways, but she needed to get her bearings.
Over one hundred miles long, the lake had winding waterways that covered sixty-three thousand surface acres with twelve hundred miles of wooded shoreline.
The entire shoreline was dotted with sandy-beach coves surrounded by twelve-foot-high, boulder-strewn banks. They had been told that boaters could drop anchor in the coves to picnic, swim, or fish during the day and to sleep at night. She liked the idea of being able to find their own private niche.
When hunger and thirst eventually had her stirring from her perch at the helm, she let the boat idle and went to check on Rachel. She found the shorter woman sprawled, face-down, on one of the double beds. She was down for the count.
The total abandon of Rachel's position made the blonde's stomach muscles clench. Her slim, naturally tanned arms were flung, spread eagle, across the mattress. A wedge of caramel skin was exposed at the small of her back. Her jeans-clad rump was slightly elevated, and Quinn had an insane urge to crawl into bed and wake her with caresses.
"Whoa, girl. Calm yourself." She issued the soft, urgent warning to her body as moisture began to pool between her legs. An unexpected arousal burgeoned within her, pulsing to life and sucking the air from her lungs.
Heat crept up Quinn's neck as she fought the temptation to slide her body over Rachel's and wake her with greedy hands and mouth. The blonde wanted to explore every dip and curve of the spiky-haired woman's deliciously feminine form and lose herself in her softness. The urge was so primitive and shocking in its force that she shuddered. What the hell had prompted the sudden, intense hunger?
It was the ultimate in stupidity – a risk neither of them could afford. Quinn shook her head to rid it of her lecherous thoughts. As tempting as she found her sexy partner, the blonde couldn't afford to get any more involved with her.
Instead, she slowly slipped Rachel's shoes off her feet and eased her more fully onto the bed. The exhausted woman didn't so much as flinch, testimony to how soundly she slept.
Quinn soothed herself with a cold beer, and then another, as she tried to shove Rachel from her thoughts. She would probably sleep through the night, so Quinn was left to her own devices. Normally, she preferred her own company, but Rachel's proximity kept her restless.
After slapping together a sandwich, she washed the meal down with a third beer, her personal limit, and then went back to the helm. She found a cove to anchor in for the evening, where she could do some fishing. By the time dark had fallen, she was ready to call it a night herself.
She secured the front and back doors and then carried her bag to the small compartment opposite the one Rachel had chosen. The bathroom was smaller than a phone booth, but Quinn showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and donned a clean green tank top and black shorts without any problem.
After steeling herself to check on her companion again, Quinn grabbed a blanket and lightly covered the still-slumbering woman, then quickly retreated to her own full-sized bunk. Quinn didn't expect to drop off easily, but the soothing sounds of the country night and gentle rocking of the boat soon lulled her to sleep.
The rising sun coaxed the blonde out of bed the next morning, and Quinn quickly checked on Rachel. She was still fast asleep, but she had apparently been up during the night. She had shed her jeans and crawled under the covers, leaving only one impossibly long, bare leg exposed. The sight of the slim calf and thigh caused her blood pressure to rise, so Quinn quickly shifted her attention to her upper body.
Her eyes widened a little as she studied her head. The red hair, obviously another wig, was gone, tossed aside like lifeless vermin. In its place was wavy, deep brown that parted down the middle and curved across her jaw. It looked as soft and shiny as corn silk.
Something inside the blonde went soft, too, as she glimpsed yet another layer of the other woman. Both the elegant blonde and the brassy redhead had been fascinating, but easily abandoned. Now Rachel looked sweet and natural and so desirable that Quinn had to fight another fierce wave of desire.
The real woman was slowly being revealed, like a flower opening its petals, and each new revelation intrigued her more and more. Quinn wondered if her personality would undergo a similar transformation. Rachel had been experiencing an emotional letdown, so it would be a while before she even recognized her own personality. Not much use in speculating.
With that thought, Quinn moved into the kitchen area and brewed a pot of coffee. While it was perking, she watched the early sunshine glisten on the water. A light morning haze hung on the air, but there were no other watercraft to disturb the view – just soothing, unblemished isolation.
It looked as though they would have another warm, calm day on the lake. Maybe she would swim instead of her usual run. Or maybe she would check out paths along the upper bank. It was always good to have an escape route, however safe and isolated the location.
When the coffee was ready, Quinn filled a cup and turned toward the narrow hallway. Rachel materialized in the doorway and they collided with a soft thud. She fell against the blonde like a limp rag, her face buried against Quinn's shoulder. Quinn held her close with her left arm while she set down her cup. Then she tentatively rested her right hand on the small of the brunette's back.
Instead of moving out of her embrace, Rachel burrowed closer, like a sleepy child. Her arms encircled Quinn's waist, a ring of fire that seared the taller woman. The soft warmth and sweet scent of her made Quinn's pulse leap wildly, and her body came to full sexual alert.
"Coffee. I smell coffee," Rachel mumbled innocently against the blonde's tank top-clad shoulder.
The feel of her full mouth moving against her shoulder and neck, even though partially covered by the strap of her shirt, made Quinn's muscles clench with excitement. The brunette's body was flush against hers, branding Quinn with erotic fire.
She closed her eyes, savoring the sensual pull, then took a deep breath. Quinn wanted to lock her tightly in her arms, ravage her mouth with her own until she'd forced the shorter woman to wake up and accept the consequences of her actions.
Desire raged through her as Rachel drifted back to sleep in her arms. She obviously wasn't a morning person. Quinn clenched her jaw in frustration. She considered carrying the brunette back to bed and having her way with her. As much as the idea appealed, she wasn't the type of woman who took advantage of other women, especially vulnerable ones.
That doesn't mean I can't enjoy having her close, though, she thought.
Quinn tightened her grip, pulling the other woman's body snug against her own. A moan escaped her at the exquisite feel. Rachel moaned, too, then suddenly went rigid in her arms. Quinn grinned as Rachel's head jerked backward and she stared at the blonde in sleepy confusion.
She slowly loosened her hold on the shorter woman. Rachel eased her grip on the taller woman's midsection, allowing her enough room to splay her hands on her chest. More heat.
"What?" Rachel muttered huskily.
Quinn chuckled lightly. "You came in search of coffee and ran into me."
"You're – " she began, then cleared the huskiness from her throat and licked her lips.
Quinn wanted to suck each glistening lip between her own and then devour her whole mouth. The need was so strong that she had to fight for control. How had she gotten so needy?
"You're very…hard," the brunette finally managed to say, her hands still splayed across Quinn's breasts.
And wet. And getting wetter with each breath I take, the blonde thought to herself. She cleared her own throat before responding. "It's, um, chilly this morning," she supplied.
Rachel's brows puckered, lashes sweeping upward as the drowsiness cleared from her eyes. As she came more fully awake, she began to withdraw.
"Yes, chilly. A natural response. It can't be helped," she reasoned for them both, then stepped out of the blonde's reach.
"Exactly," Quinn agreed.
Quinn watched a rosy blush steal up the brunette's neck and over her cheeks as she looked anywhere but at the blonde in front of her. The flustered color made her all the more alluring.
"I'll survive, though," Quinn teased. Then she decided to give them both a break from the rising tension between them. "I just need some coffee and I'll be all warmed up."
Rachel nodded adorably. "Coffee," she parroted.
Quinn reached for her cup, sipped it to see if it was still warm, and then downed the whole thing. Maybe the caffeine would knock some strength back into her knees.
After Rachel filled her own cup, she refilled Quinn's.
"Thanks," she said. "I was just heading outside to welcome the morning. Care to join me?"
The brunette smiled. "Sure," she said and then turned, walking down the narrow hallway between their sleeping compartments to the door that led outside. "I want to go up on the deck," Rachel said once they were outside, turning to the ladder.
The roof of the houseboat doubled as a sundeck with chairs, tables, and an attached sliding board for swimmers. Quinn took another sweeping glance around the area, noting that all was still quiet. She followed Rachel up the ladder, allowing her body to respond to the sight of her shapely bottom, clad only in gym shorts that left a whole lot of leg exposed. Smooth, sleek legs that could feed her fantasies for weeks.
Quinn forced herself to focus on security. "You can't get too comfortable up here. We're as close to being sitting ducks as we can get."
"I suppose," Rachel sighed, easing herself onto a lounge chair and stretching out her legs. "But it's just about the most perfect spot anyone could want to be."
Quinn had to agree. She settled herself into the chair opposite the brunette and allowed herself to relax a little. The sun was beginning to sparkle on the water, burning off the morning haze. The waves were gently lapping at the boat in a peaceful rocking motion. Birds were singing as gulls squalled and dove for breakfast. The morning was clear and bright with a slight nip in the air.
"Are you warm enough?" The blonde asked, glancing at her companion's scantily clad form.
Rachel nodded. "I'm chilly, but it's invigorating, not uncomfortable."
Quinn hummed her agreement, feeling the same. The sun would warm them before too long. It had already cleared the horizon and was moving upward like a brilliant ball of fire.
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying their coffee and absorbing the peaceful beauty around them. Neither of them had known much peace these past few weeks, so it seemed a rare and welcome pleasure.
"I guess I really conked out on you last night," the brunette spoke up suddenly. "You didn't have any problems, did you?" she asked, a hint of guilt and embarrassment in her voice.
"Not a single one," Quinn reassured her. "I explored a little, had something to eat, and did some fishing."
"Did you see anything out of the ordinary?" Rachel inquired.
The blonde shook her head. "Just a few other boats and some late-night fishermen. Nothing suspicious or threatening."
Rachel sighed, resting her head against the back of the chair and closing her eyes. "Sounds wonderfully dull."
"It was," agreed Quinn, gazing out over the water. Maggie would have loved it here. The image of her former partner slipped into her thoughts, unbidden. Maggie had had dark, wild curls that were always out of control, and she had bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Normally, the memories were too painful, so Quinn kept them buried where they couldn't rub her raw with bitterness and frustration. But Maggie had been on her mind a lot during this assignment, a result of working with another female operative.
She had tackled life head-on, as if it were a great, unending adventure. Born and raised in the city, she had loved doing anything outdoors, exploring new places and tackling new challenges. But it was that same daring personality that had cost her her life.
Even the good memories made Quinn's jaw clench and her chest tight. For a long time, she had been mad as hell at Maggie for risking her life and abandoning her. Now Quinn just felt sad at the loss of her life. Sad, and determined that Hudson should pay.
Shaking her head to dismiss the images, she turned her attention back to Rachel. She could easily distract Quinn from her troubling thoughts. She studied the smooth curve of her cheeks and noticed how perfectly her hair framed her face and matched her complexion.
"I'm guessing that's your natural hair," Quinn remarked, drawing the brunette's attention.
Rachel reached up to tuck the ends behind her ears. "Yeah, this is the real thing, and what a relief to be rid of those awful wigs."
"I'll bet. I'm very glad to be rid of that red wig. It itched like hell," Quinn added.
"And contacts," they chorused, sharing a grin.
Quinn stared into her lovely, smiling eyes for a moment. Their natural color was a deep, soulful brown. It surprised her to realize how much pleasure she derived from just the other woman's smile. It warmed her.
Rachel averted her gaze, and the blonde felt the temperature cool.
She watched as a frown marred the shorter woman's features and suddenly wished for the power to keep her safe and smiling. Quinn wanted to destroy anything that threatened her, to eliminate anything that might motivate the brunette to put her life at risk. The depth of the emotion made her edgy and restless.
"How long do you think we will be able to stay here?" Rachel asked, obviously sensing a need to distract the taller woman.
Quinn thought about it. "A few days. Maybe through next weekend. I'm betting Berry will want you in D.C. the following week, at the latest."
The brunette nodded and closed her eyes again. Quinn couldn't seem to drag her gaze away from her. She knew it was dangerous to let her attraction escalate, yet she couldn't stem the increasing desire to know what made the other woman tick.
Neither could she ignore the surge of impotent fury she felt every time she thought of Rachel's engagement to Hudson – living in his home, accepting his touch, being intimate with a man twice her age.
How could she do it? How could she sell herself in such an obscene manner? What would make an intelligent, capable woman take on such a compromising assignment? Rachel had hinted at a deeper reason than ambition, so what could it be? A family vendetta?
Quinn had only known her a few days, and the questions were eating her alive. She wanted answers, yet knew better than to ask. Even if Rachel would be willing to supply the answers, the blonde wasn't sure she could handle the whole truth. Better to guard against caring too much. All that had ever gotten her was more pain and disillusionment.
"I'm starving," Rachel announced, breaking into Quinn's grim thoughts. "Since you made the coffee, I'll cook breakfast. Any preference?"
The taller woman shrugged. "I'm not particular, but I am hungry."
"Bacon, eggs, and toast?" Rachel offered.
Quinn smiled at her. "Sounds great."
She watched Rachel rise from the chair and walk across the deck. Her smooth, supple movements had the blonde's body stirring in interest once again, hungry for more than food. She clamped down hard on the desire and spent the next few minutes trying to convince herself that self-denial would make it go away.
They pulled up anchor after breakfast, and Rachel took the helm for a couple of hours. There really wasn't much driving involved, she mused, just a gentle steering as the big boat chugged across the water.
Quinn had taken a seat on the small front deck, so her attention shifted back and forth between the lake and the stunning ex-agent. The temperature had climbed to eighty already. Quinn had replaced the tank top and shorts with another pair of tight shorts and a bikini top. The rest of her was gloriously, tantalizingly naked.
A fine sheen of sweat made her creamy skin shimmer in the sunlight. Every time the blonde moved a muscle, the motion sent a frisson of sensation through Rachel. She didn't suppose anyone would ever get tired of looking at her tight, flat stomach or her equally as enticing breasts. Never mind the rest of her goddess-like physique.
What she didn't dare do was get too excited about Quinn's great body. As much as she'd like to explore every inch of it, Rachel knew it would be a monumental mistake. Her assignment for the agency was far from finished. Even if she survived to testify against Finn – which the odds were against – the trial and appeals could go on for years. She had no business getting involved with anyone.
That doesn't mean I can't do a little daydreaming about the sexy woman I'm partnered with, she thought with a grin. Would she be an impatient lover? Or the slow, thorough sort? Did she like sexual partners who were wild and uninhibited, or shy and innocent? She didn't have any personal experience, but that didn't mean she was totally ignorant about sex. A person could learn a lot through the media these days. Movies, television shows, books, and of course, the internet were pretty explicit.
Quinn stirred her sexual curiosity more than any person she had ever met, yet she knew any interest the other woman showed in her would be strictly physical. Quinn wore her emotional detachment like a Mylar vest, shielding her heart.
Quinn chose that minute to reenter the cabin, and Rachel felt a blush rising up her neck. She hoped the blonde didn't have a clue what had prompted her flush.
The taller woman offered a convenient excuse. "It's getting a little warm in here, isn't it."
She jumped on it. "Yes, I was just thinking we might want to turn on the AC during the heat of the day," she replied, somewhat breathlessly.
Quinn moved to the controls and turned on the central air. "I'll set it low enough that it doesn't get cold – just not too hot."
Rachel mumbled her agreement and then turned her attention to the lake again. Quinn stepped behind her, and she was enveloped in the scent of her, vanilla mixed with something lightly floral. She radiated as much heat as the sun, raising the brunette's temperature even more. It was all she could do not to fan herself.
As they traversed the main waterway, the traffic was heavier, with ski boats and Jet Skis zipping around on all sides of them. The boat rocked in the rough wake, and Quinn braced herself with her hands on Rachel's chair. Even the casual brush of the blonde's fingers seared her, and she mentally admonished herself to get a grip.
"How about finding us another place to drop anchor?" Quinn suggested. "A place with some natural steps or handholds up the embankment would be nice. I'd like to scout around the area this side of the lake. Maybe have a run if I can find a smooth enough path up there."
Rachel steered around the next jutting of land, and then another before turning into an uninhabited cove with a boulder-lined bank. She cut the engine and let their boat drift as close to shore as possible.
She turned to the taller woman. "The brochure mentions cottages and other rental properties, so I would think you could find a decent path somewhere near the shoreline," Rachel told her.
Quinn nodded. "I'll try. Are you a jogger?"
Rachel shook her head. "No, but after you're done exploring, I'd like to swim for a while. I'm used to a good daily workout and I'm getting stiff just sitting so much," she said.
Once Rachel had shut off the engine, Quinn had stepped away, and Rachel drew a calmer breath. Quinn lowered the anchor and then grabbed a fitted T-shirt and a pair of running shoes.
Before heading out, the blonde turned back with a serious expression. "Keep your gun handy while I'm gone. I won't be more than an hour. If you even suspect trouble, get off the boat."
Rachel mentally rolled her eyes at the obvious advice, but nodded her head in agreement anyway. "I'll be careful. If I need to escape, I'll follow you onto shore and then stay as close as possible until you get back."
Quinn nodded once. "Okay."
They both moved to the front deck, and Quinn dove into the water. Once she surfaced, Rachel handed her her shirt and shoes. She noticed that socks were tucked in one shoe and a small hand gun in the other. She held the shoes over her head as she waded the last few feet to shore. Rachel watched until Quinn had climbed the steep bank and disappeared into the trees.
The brunette's emotions were mixed about her sexy bodyguard. There was no denying the physical attraction. Though neither of them spoke about it or acted on it, it kept intensifying. It wouldn't be smart to let her increasing desire fog her judgment. There was so much more at stake than personal satisfaction.
She wanted to trust Quinn, yet she had been trained to consider every angle, the potential risk in every situation. What if Leroy Berry was wrong about Quinn's reliability? What did Rachel really know about her? Even though her service record was impressive, the blonde had retired under less than favorable conditions.
What if both sides had enlisted Quinn to keep her under surveillance? Where did her loyalties lie? What if she had just headed for the nearest pay phone to contact the men who wanted her dead?
Hating the paranoia that had been a part of her life for so long, Rachel shook her head in disgust. She would have to wait and watch Quinn until she could decide whether or not to trust her. Right now, being with her held more appeal than being alone. Rachel was so tired of being alone.
Thoughts of the loneliness brought memories of her family and their vacation on a similar houseboat. Her brother Greg had been so full of energy and enthusiasm. He had wanted to investigate every nook and cranny, to learn how everything worked. He had wanted to fish and swim and steer the boat. He had asked a million questions that her parents had patiently answered.
Greg had called her Rachel instead of her given name, Rachel Barbra. It had been too much of a mouthful for him. He was also the first to call her Rach, when he claimed "Rachel" was just too long still. Quinn was the first person she'd shared her name with in nearly a decade.
She couldn't say why she had shared it with the blonde, except that she had grown sick and tired of aliases. Once this case was over, she vowed to find a new line of work, one where she never had to assume another name and identity. With Finn out of the way, it might finally be possible.
Deciding it was a good time to take stock of the clothing she had bought, Rachel dragged out shopping bags and sorted through the hastily purchased collection. In addition to a few pairs of shorts and tops, she had chosen four bikinis, two matching navy blue ones and two neon green ones. She set them aside and stashed most of the other clothes into the drawers under her bed. Her biggest purchase had been panties. She took fourteen pairs of them, plus the bikinis, and moved back into the kitchen. After getting herself a can of soda, she settled down to sew, pausing every few minutes to check for unexpected guests.
Nearly an hour later, she heard Quinn shouting at her from the beach. She went onto the deck and waited until the blonde had swum close enough to toss her shoes and shirt onto the boat. Then Rachel gave her hand to board.
"Have a nice run?" she asked.
Quinn smiled genuinely. "Yeah. The path's a little rough, but it felt good." The taller woman looked around before asking seriously, "Any problems?"
"Nary a one," Rachel reported. "I saw a few boats pass by on the main waterway, but nothing came close."
"Good," Quinn nodded, "Ready to swim?"
"Almost. I have some sewing to finish. Then I'll be ready," the brunette explained, gesturing to the cabin, where her pile of clothes lied in the kitchen.
The blonde cocked an eyebrow. "Sewing?" she asked, following Rachel back inside the cabin. She glanced toward the table. "Have an underwear explosion while I was gone?" she inquired smirking.
Rachel gave her a grin. "No, I'm just practicing an old trick my mother taught me."
Quinn's other brow raised to join the left one. "Oh? And what's that?"
"Well," Rachel explained as she went back to work, "you buy two matching pairs of underwear, and then you cut part of the front panel out of one and sew it to the front panel of its mate. That makes a neat little pocket that can be sealed with thin strips of Velcro."
"For hiding something?" the taller woman asked, curiosity piqued.
Rachel nodded. "For hiding a small plastic pouch with cash, an ID, and in my case, the key to a post office box."
Quinn nodded in understanding. "A nice, neat little package."
"Yup," the brunette affirmed confidently, "I never go anywhere without one."
That left eyebrow cocked again. "Even to swim?"
"Even to swim," Rachel confirmed. "That's why I bought matching bikinis. The plastic protects everything, so the shower's about the only place I go without my backup supplies."
Quinn hummed, impressed. "Clever. Your mother taught you this?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes, and it's a trick that's saved me on more than one occasion."
"I imagine it has," the blonde commented. "I'll have to try it out myself sometime."
Conscious of the other woman's scrutiny, Rachel lifted her gaze from her handiwork. Quinn had a strange expression on her face. It almost looked like compassion. "Why are you staring?" Rachel asked, on edge from Quinn's expression.
The blonde got a contemplative look on her face. "I'm curious. I know parents teach their kids survival tactics, but why in the hell would your mother teach you something like that? What ever happened to the basics, like putting overzealous boyfriends in their place or protecting yourself against would-be muggers?"
Rachel dropped her gaze again. "My dad taught me that kind of stuff. Mom just expanded on the teachings."
"Why?" Quinn prodded.
"What do you mean?" she asked but knew exactly what the taller woman meant. How many mothers taught their children strange survival tactics? Hers had done so out of necessity.
The blonde kept pressing. "Why did she think you would need that sort of security?"
"We moved around a lot when I was younger," Rachel shrugged, giving as vague an answer as possible.
Quinn scoffed. "So did we, but not without a chance to collect our stuff first. Why would you move with no more security than money tucked in underwear? Were you running from someone or something?"
Geez, she just does not let up, does she? Rachel mused. She debated telling the ex-agent the whole truth. Instinct told her to trust Quinn, yet it didn't come easily. Rachel held the blonde's gaze for a few minutes and then returned her attention to her work.
"Don't!" Quinn ground the word out harshly, surprising Rachel into looking directly at her again.
"Don't what?" she asked lightly, feigning ignorance.
Quinn fixed her with a hard stare. "Don't shut me out. Just give me the basics. I can deal with whatever you have to say, and I know how to keep a secret."
Something about the intensity of her demand made her heart stutter. Did Quinn really care? Why? Her tone suggested more than idle curiosity, but what? Rachel found herself telling the blonde a little about her childhood.
"When I was twelve, my family got moved into a witness protection program, but we never felt safe. As soon as we'd get comfortable, the location would be compromised and we'd have to move. My parents taught us to be prepared," she explained solemnly.
Quinn's brow knit together. "Witness protection? I know about it from the agency's end, but I never gave much thought to living that way. How could your location be jeopardized that often?"
Rachel shook her head. It was a question she'd asked herself for years. "I don't know." Having finished her project, she gathered up the panties, tossing the ruined ones into the trash. "I was just a kid, so I didn't know all the specifics – just what my parents told me."
Ever the tenacious one, the blonde pressed further. "Which agency was in charge of your relocation? Sounds like someone screwed up royally and kept putting your family in danger. Who do you blame for a breakdown in the system?"
Rachel considered her questions as she put her panties away with the rest of her things. Quinn didn't need to know that the FBI had failed her family. Or that she and Leroy still didn't know who the informant had been. Schuester had been with the agency for years, so maybe he was the key to learning more.
"I don't know all the answers," she finally answered. "I wish I did, but I don't." Having already donned the navy blue bikini, Rachel headed to the rear of the boat. Quinn followed, but the brunette ignored her and opened the door to the back deck. "I'm going for a swim now," she said, and then dove cleanly over the side.
End of conversation.
A/N: Ooo, the plot thickens! Are they really as safe as they seem? Will Rachel start to feel safe enough to open up more to Quinn? Will Quinn finally let her ever-present guard down? Find out next time, which I promise will NOT be in 5 years (heh...)!