A/N: Hello, All!
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Edith Wilding owned an elegant old Victorian home along the craggy shoreline of northern Maine. At seventy-eight years old, she was as weathered as the rocks along the waterfront but still as strong and sure as the tides. She welcomed Rachel and Special Agent Payne with open arms and a minimum of questions.
After Rachel introduced her bodyguard and briefly outlined the situation, the older woman made them comfortable in her home and treated them like long-lost relatives.
For the next few weeks, the bodyguards came and went in a regular rotation, while the women developed even deeper bonds. Edith's old house was in serious need of repair that she couldn't afford on her social security income. Rachel sold the jewelry she had mailed from Somerset to fund the renovation. Then she threw herself into the project, desperate to fill the long hours of waiting and isolation.
When she wasn't working on the house, she spent a lot of time watching the water beat against the rocks and wondering about the purpose of life. She risked an occasional call to Quinn, but their conversations were brief and strained.
Karofsky had never been apprehended, so her security was too tight to allow for a romantic rendezvous. She wondered if Quinn had some other less-complicated woman who was willing to warm her bed, but Rachel couldn't find the courage to ask her.
While alone at Edith's, she kept asking herself what she wanted from life. The answer remained the same.
Quinn Fabray.
Rachel loved her, missed her unbearably, and badly wanted a chance for a normal relationship.
A swirl of red, yellow, and brown leaves blew in the autumn wind outside of Quinn's bookshop as she shelved a fresh batch of books. Her back felt strained from the near-constant lifting and bending she had done getting her store back in order, but the work gave her a satisfaction that little else had over the last few weeks.
It had taken a while to get all the insurance claims settled and even longer to get her shop back to normal. She had hired a local contractor to rebuild it, and they had just finished about ten days prior.
She'd thought that the hours she spent getting her inventory built back up and her shelves stocked with books would keep her mind off of Rachel, but she'd been wrong. Images of the brunette filled her thoughts daily, sometimes hourly – her sweet, tantalizing smile, her sexy confidence, and her iron determination to see justice served.
Quinn's isolated lifestyle no longer appealed to her. She ate because she needed strength, but she didn't enjoy much of anything. Her sleep was restless, at best. Her body yearned for its mate. The occasional phone calls just intensified her need for a more permanent arrangement.
The damage to her personal property hadn't been that devastating. Things just weren't important. She couldn't work up much enthusiasm for her business, though she had tried to bully herself into caring.
She missed Rachel more than she had ever thought possible. Quinn loved her, and it was her first experience with the deathless, aching kind of love she suffered. She had cared deeply for Maggie, but even those emotions seemed mild compared to the depth of feeling she had for Rachel.
She wasn't coping very well, and she wondered how Rachel was dealing with the situation. Had she decided they had something worth fighting for or that she was just a means to an end? Now that Rachel's quest for justice would soon be complete, would she want independence more than commitment?
After weeks of construction, phone calls with vendors, and restocking, Quinn should be excited about the progress of her new store, but she couldn't think much beyond the progress of Hudson's legal case. It was nearing time for the case to go to trial.
She still hadn't told Rachel how much she loved her. Quinn asked herself why, as she lied awake in bed and ached for her. She had been slow to recognize the emotion, slow to put a name to the feelings he experienced every time Rachel smiled or spoke or made love to her.
Quinn was in regular contact with the assistant US attorney in charge of the case, availing herself for interviews and volunteering to back up Rachel's testimony. She had submitted a detailed case report and undergone a lie detector test.
Rachel might not want her involved, but Quinn was already in, heart-and-soul deep. She didn't trust Uncle Sam's best to protect Rachel once the brunette appeared in court. Her identity and location would be compromised by then, her every move monitored.
Quinn planned to do some monitoring of her own.
National and international news had been slow, so the media created a circus around the Hudson case. Reporters for every major news operation had probed for details on the affluent banker and the undercover operative who had posed as his fiancée. Rumors were rampant, though most remained unsubstantiated.
It was the stuff of TV movies and best-selling novels, so everyone and his brother wanted a piece of the action. Berry managed to get background checks on each reporter and photographer that was granted access to the courtroom. Security was especially tight, but Quinn had no trouble getting preferential clearance.
As the courtroom started filling for the first day of the trial, Quinn, Berry, and a team of other agents watched each attendee as he or she passed through the door. They made sure every face was recorded on camera and mentally catalogued every man and woman who entered the room.
When the judge took his seat behind the bench, Quinn took her seat a row behind the railing that separated the galley from the prosecution table.
Rachel wasn't let into the room until everyone else had been seated. She'd reverted to her undercover disguise with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a demure blue suit with a plain white blouse and looked like one classy lady.
Quinn feasted on the sight of her absorbing every nuance of her voice and re-exploring every beloved feature. Rachel only allowed her gaze to meet hers once, albeit briefly, but the awareness of each other's presence throbbed strongly between them. It was an emotional connection that Quinn couldn't have described if her life depended on it.
Quinn's presence symbolized her support. She wanted Rachel to be one hundred percent sure of her. Quinn nearly burst with pride as the brunette took the stand and then answered hour after hour of questions in a calm, professional manner.
Her voice remained clear and firm as she related the personal tragedy she'd experienced and then the aspects of the case she had been professionally assigned. For every accusation she made, the assistant US attorney presented evidence to back it up. There were computer files, ledgers, videos, and tape-recorded conversations between Hudson and his staff. There were bank records and evidence of money laundering in a six-state radius.
It didn't take a genius to realize Rachel had the jury in the palm of her hand by the end of the morning session. A couple of jurors blinked tears from their eyes, while other expressions ranged from shock to outright horror. The looks they sent Hudson were telling.
As much as she preferred to keep her attention on the government's primary witness, Quinn couldn't afford to watch her for very long. She listened intently but kept her gaze roaming the room, searching each face and then searching her memory for any connection with Hudson.
Despite Berry's efforts to minimize the risks, there were still too many strangers in the courtroom with too many cameras and too much high-tech equipment.
During the break for lunch, she and Berry compared notes. "Are you having the courtroom checked?" she asked Berry when the two of them met in the outer hallway.
The tall man nodded. "We're running metal detectors over every inch of it every time we get the chance."
"Someone could use a plastic explosive," Quinn commented.
"Which would kill Hudson, too, and have a whole host of law enforcement agencies out for vengeance. Not to mention the media."
"You don't think Hudson has associates who'd like to see him dead?" asked Quinn, her gaze perusing the throngs milling in the hallway.
"I'm sure there are plenty, but probably none stupid enough to pull off a hit in a federal courtroom. Still, we have dogs searching for anything out of the ordinary."
"Good," said Quinn. Then she changed the subject. "How's Rachel?"
"You mean our Barbra?" asked Berry.
"I mean your star witness," came her terse reply. "I want to talk to her."
Berry raised her brows and stared at her for a minute. "I'll see what I can do, but only if she agrees."
"After court today?" Quinn persisted.
The deputy director hedged. "That might not be a good idea. Everybody who makes contact with her increases the danger. You know that."
Quinn would protect her with her life. She wouldn't let anyone hurt Rachel, but she needed to see her and get close to her. Then she'd know if the brunette's feelings had changed. "How long do you expect the trial to last?" she asked instead.
"At first, Hudson's lawyers were in a big rush to go to trial in hopes of having the charges dropped or the case dismissed. Our case is too airtight for that. Next, they'll try to discredit Rachel. Failing that, my guess is they'll try to lay the blame on one of Hudson's other employees."
Another agent poked his head out the door and gave them the all-clear to return to the courtroom. They had repeated their scrutiny of everybody that entered with each new session.
"By the way," Berry mumbled to her. "The code word is dive. If you see anything out of the ordinary, yell the word dive, and Rachel knows to duck for cover."
"Will do." She desperately hoped she wouldn't have to use it.
"Fabray wants to see you," Leroy told Rachel later that evening.
She'd moved from Maine to a safe house in D.C. for the duration of the trial, and he shared dinner with her.
Her breath faltered at the mention of Quinn's name. Seeing her in the courtroom had stirred a longing in her that wouldn't be appeased. Just one look at the blonde had nearly been her undoing. Rachel ached to talk to her, touch her, and feel her arms around her. It had been two months since they'd been together, but it felt like an eternity.
She cleared her throat. "I was a little surprised to see her there. She never told me she planned to attend."
She felt Leroy's gaze on her face but couldn't quite meet his eyes. Her emotions were too raw where Quinn was concerned, so she continued to pick at her food.
"She's not the sort of person you can easily dismiss. Nor is she one to wimp out of a difficult situation. She cares a great deal for you," he remarked.
She hoped so. Dear heaven, she hoped Quinn cared enough to wait for her and accept whatever lifestyle she might be forced to endure. Her presence in the courtroom had given Rachel's spirits a much-needed lift. Quinn's silent offer of support had boosted her courage. She desperately wanted the blonde in her future, but Quinn had never mentioned marriage. Maybe Quinn wasn't sure enough of her feelings for her. The idea scared Rachel almost as badly as did loving her.
"Did she say how long she was staying? Where? Or how she thought the trial went today?" Rachel tried not to sound as desperate as she actually was to know the answers.
"She's staying as long as it takes, and I think she's bunking down at Special Agent Payne's apartment. The two of them have gotten chummy since they met at the cabin."
Rachel smiled faintly. The young agent had probably kept her apprised of the activity at Edith's house. Payne wouldn't have given away any secrets, but he still could have shared information.
"I told her she could come here for a few minutes when Payne goes off duty."
Rachel's heart raced at the suggestion, but she quickly controlled the excitement. As badly as she wanted to see Quinn, she couldn't risk having her concentration shattered right now. She didn't dare give Finn and his high-priced vultures an edge. His defense team would be after blood.
Their discussion was interrupted when the doorbell rang, followed by a knock. Leroy told her to sit tight while he coordinated the changing of guard shifts. She heard the door opening and the hum of conversation.
Restless and on edge, she cleared the table and filled the dishwasher. With her back turned to the kitchen, Rachel felt her before she saw her. The fine hairs on her neck tingled with awareness.
"Rachel."
Quinn's husky voice washed over her like the warmest of caresses. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure seep into her body. Nothing could please her more than to succumb to the comfort she knew she could find in the blonde's arms, but she forced herself to stay calm and controlled.
Turning, she gave Quinn a smile, but she didn't cross the room to greet her or throw herself into her arms the way she wanted to do. A table and chairs, plus a whole lot of insecurity separated them.
"It's good to see you, Fabray," she said evenly.
Quinn's eyes narrowed and her jaw went taut. Rachel knew her lack of enthusiasm probably confused her, but she couldn't let her personal emotions distract her right now.
"It seems our relationship has seriously deteriorated if I'm back to being Fabray," the blonde quipped.
"Do we will still have a relationship?" Rachel asked.
Quinn raised a brow in that way only she could. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Yes, but we've been apart for a long time." Rachel nervously twisted a dishcloth in her hands. "I thought you might have someone else in your life now."
"There's no one else in my life or my bed, if that's what you really want to know. I'm not that superficial, and we have unfinished business between us," Quinn said seriously.
Relief rushed through Rachel. She'd secretly feared the blonde would tell her she wasn't interested anymore. "We need privacy and some uninterrupted time to work things out. I just want to keep our relationship totally separate from all the ugliness of the trial. Does that make any sense?"
She watched some of the tension drain from Quinn. She nodded in acceptance. "We've waited a long time to put an end to Hudson's reign of terror. It'll be over soon, and then we can discuss the future."
Neither her expression nor her tone gave Rachel a hint at what she was feeling, but she was content to know that Quinn didn't plan to disappear once Hudson had been convicted.
"Berry says we can get you out of the courtroom as soon as you're done testifying," Quinn said, changing the subject.
"No." Rachel shook her head. "I don't want to miss any of it. I need to hear what the other witnesses have to say."
"You can always read the court transcripts. I'm not sure it's safe for you to be there unless you're testifying," Quinn tried to argue.
"What can possibly go wrong in a federal courthouse?" she asked. "I know you and Leroy are doing everything humanly possible to keep it safe, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have on my side. I'm not afraid." Her tone was more dismissive than she intended.
"Good." Quinn studied her for another long moment and then turned to go. "I'll see you in court."
It was hard to watch her leave, but Rachel knew it was for the best. At least, for now.
Quinn's skin crawled the next day as the judge pounded the gavel on his bench and started the proceedings. She had that prickly feeling she always got when something was dangerously wrong. Adrenaline surged through her as she scoured the courtroom for anything or anyone that seemed out of place. She hadn't slept much last night. Seeing Rachel, yet not being able to touch her had kept her too keyed up to rest. Rachel hadn't given her much of a clue about her feelings, but at least the brunette hadn't sent her packing. That meant there was hope. Quinn just had to be patient until this damnable trial was over.
Most of the faces in the courtroom were the same as yesterday with a few variations of paparazzi. She knew Berry had checked and rechecked every person, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was present today.
Rachel took the stand again in the morning session for the cross-examination. Today, she wore a simple black dress that made her look cool and elegant. Coupled with the blonde hair, she looked fragile, yet she continued to impress her and everyone else with her professionalism.
Hudson's high-priced legal team was good, but they couldn't shake her unfaltering conviction that he was guilty on all charges. The only time her control wavered was when the lead defense attorney, Robert Fenton, started to badger her about her family.
"You were very young when your father worked for Mr. Hudson, isn't that correct?"
"I was ten when my dad went to work for Hudson, and he worked for him nearly two years."
Fenton, a distinguished, silver-haired man of sixty, continued in a pleasant, noncombative tone. "How would you describe your life during those two years? Pleasant? Your family prosperous?"
A small frown creased Rachel's brow. Quinn knew she was wondering where the questioning might lead. So was everyone else in the courtroom.
"I'm not sure what you mean," she replied. "I always thought we were a normal family. My father went to work on weekdays. My mother worked part-time at a grocery store. My brother and I went to school."
"Would you say that your quality of life continually improved while your father was in Mr. Hudson's employ?"
"Improved how?" asked Rachel.
"Isn't it true that you moved into a nice, new home, that your dad bought a new car, you got to buy a lot of pretty new clothes, and your family was generally more prosperous?"
"I think my dad was pleased with his salary, if that's what you mean."
"What I mean is that your dad was spending more money than could be justified by his salary," said Fenton.
The assistant US attorney protested. "Objection, Your Honor. I don't see the relevance."
The judge looked pointedly at Fenton.
"We intend to prove that Ms. Berry's testimony is tainted by her personal vendetta against my client."
"That's a lie!" insisted Rachel.
Fenton didn't hesitate, but turned his attention to the jurors. "In order to defend my client, I have to prove that Ms. Berry's testimony is prejudiced. My client terminated her father's employment rather than file criminal charges against him, but she was too young to understand."
"Objection, Your Honor!" said the assistant US attorney. "Mr. Corcoran is not on trial here."
"That's a twisted pack of lies." Rachel's heated accusation had the courtroom stirring with whispers and the judge pounding his gavel for quiet.
Quinn wanted to rip Fenton's throat out for deliberately baiting Rachel, jabbing at her tender recollections of her family, and attacking her where she was most vulnerable. She didn't like seeing Rachel upset, and she wanted to strangle the arrogant defense lawyer. Quinn willed her strength and noticed that the brunette's spine stiffened and her chin hiked higher.
The ploy to rattle her backfired. When Quinn glanced at the jury, she noticed that most of the jurors were glaring angrily at Fenton. Chalk one up for the good guys. If the legal eagles were smart, they'd get her off the stand instead of trying to discredit her.
Fenton and the assistant US attorney spent a minute arguing with the judge, but then Fenton was allowed to continue.
He spoke directly to the jurors, his tone sympathetic. "Ms. Berry was only a youngster at the time. She can't be faulted for seeing Mr. Hudson as the villain."
"The authorities brought charges against him," Rachel interjected in a tight voice.
Fenton turned back to her. "They were dropped as soon as another employee confessed."
"Which would have cleared my father as well."
"We have no way of proving his innocence. This court, on the other hand, has the trusted word of an honorable man and a highly respected citizen."
Quinn glanced at Hudson. His demeanor throughout the trial had remained cool and confident, but his eyes narrowed slightly when Rachel turned to stare at him. It was the first time she'd made eye contact with anyone other than the attorneys, so all eyes were on her. No man in his right mind could misunderstand the warning glint. She was getting more furious by the minute, so much so that Hudson actually frowned.
"I wouldn't rely too heavily on your client's honor," she insisted, her voice holding a veiled threat. "There was more than financial misconduct that sent my dad to the authorities."
"Don't believe a word she says!" shouted Hudson. He shocked the courtroom by jumping to his feet and waving a threatening hand toward Rachel. "She'll do or say anything to protect her father's name."
The judge pounded his gavel again, quieting the stir of sensation caused by the unexpected outburst. Fenton moved swiftly to his client's side and urged him to sit down. They exchanged fierce whispers, and Fenton requested an extra few minutes to confer with his client.
Quinn had never seen Hudson sweat, but he was seating now. His expression was tight, his demeanor visibly agitated as he exchanged heated whispers with his attorney.
What did Rachel know that could shatter his smooth, practiced calm? It had to be something deeply personal, something that would permanently mar his public image, something that Hudson feared even worse than the criminal charges against him.
While the defense team huddled around their client, Quinn took another slow look around the courtroom. The faces were mostly the same as yesterday, with a couple of exceptions. Berry had identified one of the new faces as Hudson's sister. She sat on the defense side of the aisle. She had been subpoenaed to testify.
Another unfamiliar face was that of a tabloid editor from France. He was seated a couple of rows behind the defense table. As Quinn watched, the pale, thin man took a camera out of his case and began fiddling with the dials on it.
Something about the way the man handled the camera made Quinn tense. She watched as a small zoom lens began to protrude from the casing. The shape reminded her too much of a gun barrel.
At first, the editor had the lens pointed straight at Hudson, but then he slowly angled it above his head and directed it toward the witness seat. All the fine hairs on Quinn's body stood on end.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. Fenton declared his cross-examination finished, shocking everyone in the courtroom. The judge excused Rachel, but she was still bent on vengeance.
"What's the matter, Finn?" she taunted. "Are you afraid I might mention the main reason my dad left your employ? That he caught you trying to molest his daughter?"
"You lying bitch!" Hudson yelled, charging to his feet again.
Quinn watched in shock as Hudson's head seemed to explode and his body crumpled.
"Dive!" she shouted, leaping to her feet and over the railing. She saw a second bullet shatter the wood of the witness seat, missing Rachel's head by inches as she dropped to the floor. Panic that she couldn't reach her in time had Quinn's heart pounding riotously.
All hell broke loose as she dove to cover Rachel's body with her own. She draped her arms over the brunette's head and buried her face in her hair, shielding her as much as possible as Quinn dragged her under the prosecution table.
The courtroom erupted into pandemonium. Screams split the air along with loud shouts and a roar of mass confusion. Bodies were thudding against bodies in the rush to get out of the way. Quinn knew the guards at the door would be no match for the stampeding mob. People fell to the floor all around them, some crouching under the same table. She stayed put, reassured by the feel of Rachel beneath her. Her heart pounded against Quinn's, the warmth of her permeating the blonde's clothes.
"Clear the room, but nobody leaves the building!" Berry's voice rose above the din. "I want all exits locked and guarded. Find a short bald guy with a dark gray suit."
Good, thought Quinn. They had an ID on the shooter. He had made his getaway, but he'd never get out of the building. Berry's team had planned for every eventuality, and men were posted throughout the courthouse.
"Get the paramedics in here, and a forensic team." Berry continued to issue orders, and they could hear men scrambling to obey them.
Quinn listened, her heart racing, her body folded around Rachel's, until some sounds of normalcy returned. She didn't start to relax until the assistant US attorney and his assistant rose from the floor. Once the room had been cleared, she finally moved her arms and spoke softly to Rachel.
"You okay?"
Rachel's voice came in a puff of breathlessness. "You're squishing me."
Relief rolled over her like an avalanche, making her limbs tremble. Rachel's gentle complaint was music to her ears. She propped her weight on her forearms and slid lower until they were face to face, nose to nose. Then Quinn just stared at her for a minute, savoring every feature.
"Sorry." She hadn't meant to crush the brunette.
"No," Rachel said swiftly. She wiggled until she freed her hands and brought them up to Quinn's face. "No, I'm the one who's sorry," she whispered, her heart in her eyes. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this ugly mess."
Her touch sent heat coursing through Quinn. Her words brought an ache to her chest. Rachel shouldn't be apologizing for circumstances she had no way of controlling.
Right now there were more important personal things to deal with. Quinn had so much emotion to express. There was so much to say, there were so many things crowding her mind. Things she should have said but hadn't. Important things, life-altering things, all cluttering her thinking, quivering through her limbs and clogging her throat.
"I love you" was the only part of the turmoil she could verbalize.
Quinn watched Rachel's beautiful eyes fill with tears, but the moisture didn't blur the love shining through. Quinn felt it to the depth of her soul.
Rachel's response was little more than a whisper. "I love you more."
"Impossible," she insisted huskily. "Kiss me." Quinn needed the contact, the reassurance, and the intimacy.
Their mouths met in a slow, sweet coupling that expressed hearts full of yearning. Quinn didn't want it to end. She wanted to keep Rachel locked to her for all time, to feel her warmth, her generous heart beating against her own.
But they were rudely interrupted. "Hey, you two okay?"
They broke off the kiss and turned toward the voice. Berry had crouched beside the table. His grim expression softened a little when he saw them.
"We're fine." Rachel's expression was soft but sure.
Quinn cleared her throat. "I guess it's safe to surface?"
"Yeah, but it's not pretty."
The deputy director shifted out of sight again. Quinn reluctantly rolled off Rachel and then helped her crawl from beneath the table and stand. As soon as she saw what was left of Hudson, she took Rachel in her arms and pressed her face to her chest.
"What the hell happened?" she asked Berry.
"Apparently, it was a hired hit man, and a damn good one. I don't know how the hell he got a gun in here, but I plan to get some answers, even if I have to personally beat 'em out of that lowlife."
"I saw the Frenchman pull out a camera. The gun must have been modified to fit in the casing," Quinn explained.
"Well, it didn't impair the accuracy. If Hudson hadn't lunged to his feet, the first bullet would have taken out Barbra. Your warning and her quick reflexes saved her from the second one."
Rachel made a soft sound, and Quinn tightened her arms around her, holding her closer.
"Did you get the shooter?" Quinn asked.
"Yeah, I just got word that he's in custody. He ditched the camera, but we'll find it."
Quinn nodded. "You need help?"
"We'll be fine. Why don't you two head to my apartment? I'll be there as soon as I have some answers."
With that, the deputy director turned his attention to the team working to gather the evidence from the crime scene.
A/N: Whew! That was close! My wife said it was "action packed!" There is only one more chapter, more of an epilogue, left, and then I'll be on to other stories. Until next time!