A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! It always makes my day seeing what you all think of my writing & the story. Sorry I haven't responded personally, but life is crazy! I am enjoying my new job though. Be sure to let me know what you think about this chapter! I also love hearing what you guys think will happen or want to happen so be sure to review! Enjoy!

Feeling Good by Michael Bublé

"It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good
I'm feeling good"

Defining Moments

Chapter 8: Special Agent Plum Reporting for Duty

Steph's POV

The smell of freshly brewing coffee wakes me in the morning. I stretch and breathe deeply as I open my eyes. For a second, I'm disoriented and have no clue where I am. I'm in a bed that is not my own. I look around and realize I'm on a full-size mattress in a pale moss green colored room. It has a small dresser and two small nightstands. When my brain wakes a little more I remember I'm in Quinn's guest bedroom. My body is very sore. I can feel my abs protesting as I sit up in bed. My legs feel tight from the running. I stretch one more time and groan as I feel the pull in my muscles. I slip out of bed and go to the small bathroom down the hall. Quinn has a nice apartment. It's sparsely decorated but the decorations he does have are tasteful. He has a lot of earthy, muted tones that make for a calming environment. After the bathroom, I pad out into the kitchen to see him sitting at his small table with a newspaper in hand.

"Good morning sleepyhead," he says with a smile, "I have coffee ready if you want a cup before our run." My jaw drops. Before our run? Excuse me, who does he think he is?

"Our run?" I question putting a hand on my hip. He folds the paper and sets it down.

"I figured we'd go together since you're here," he replies calmly, "I can time you and see how close you are for the testing." Oh, right. I smile sheepishly. I guess I'm not over my gut reaction of hating exercise. I walk over to the coffee pot and use the mug sitting beside it.

"You're right," I say as I add a bit of sugar and cream, "what time is it any-" I stop my sentence as I look at the clock above the stove.

"It's 7:15?" I shriek feeling gipped out of another hour of sleep. I see Quinn smirking, and I realize I really need to get a grip. I take a few deep breaths and take a sip of coffee. I close my eyes and let the warmth spread through my body. I relax a bit as I feel the caffeine entering my system.

"Sorry Quinn. I'm not usually a morning or exercise person, but I'm working on it," I apologize with a grimace, "Actually, before I met you I had just decided to get better at my job so it's still an adjustment for me." He nods and smiles.

"It's fine," he says with his eyes crinkling with his smile, "honestly, you're pretty entertaining. You walked in here like a zombie." I roll my eyes back in my head before taking a seat at the table.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" I ask as he hands me a banana from a bowl in the middle of the table.

"First things first, we'll go for a run. We can then go to the bureau so you can shower and change and eat a real breakfast. While we're there you can pick up your badge, and I can set you up on the database if you wanted to do any computer searches. I need to report to my boss. Then I figured we'd share our info on the Bianchi's before I drive you back to Trenton," he explains before taking a drink of his own coffee. I blow out a sigh, another long day ahead of me.

After finishing the cup of coffee and the banana, I head back to the spare bedroom. I strip out of the t-shirt Quinn lent and put on my dirty shirt and bra from the day before. I leave the shorts he lent me on. I also put my holster and gun on before I lace up my shoes. I can't wait to get out of these clothes. He basically promised I'd get to change after we run and get to the Bureau. Once I'm ready, I meet Quinn back in the kitchen. He's already waiting for me. He's wearing a form-fitting white t-shirt with dark blue running shorts and blue Nikes. I can't help but admire the view. I shake my head. He's your partner, get a grip!

"No gun or badge?" I question as I look him over. He shoots me a grin.

"Nope. I figure we'll run to the Bureau then I can get you some clothes. While you're showering I'll come back here and change," he says as he walks towards the front door.

"You just have a plan for everything, don't you?" I question somewhat in awe. Of course, that reminds me of another man. He chuckles.

"Best to be prepared. Besides then we can utilize the whole day instead of wasting time," he replies with a shrug. I guess that's pretty good reasoning.

We head out for the jog, and I surprise myself by keeping up with Quinn. Maybe he's going slower for me, but he doesn't say anything. We run in companionable silence with only the sounds of our breathing and the street noise. The FBI building is in view. We stop at the gate and walk the rest of the way up.

"Not bad, Plum," Quinn states looking at his watch, "We did two miles in 20 minutes." My mouth gapes open. That's impressive for me, and I didn't even need a break. He gets us past the gate and into the building. I know I do not look pleasant, and my sweaty smell is questionable. I know my cheeks are flushed an unflattering shade of pink with my hair flattened against my sweaty head.

"We can go to the closet. We keep extra clothes in there for agents in case of emergencies," he explains as we head up to the second floor. We go past the men's locker room and there's another door marked closet. He opens the door and it is a huge closet. One side is clearly men's clothing and the other is women's. Geez, I would have appreciated this yesterday after sweating. I see clothing in my size and pick out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I also grab some undergarments.

"Alright, I'm going to go back home to change. I want you to go inside the gym before you shower and work with the trainer," he says with a smirk. I narrow my eyes at him. He so did not mention this earlier.

"The trainer?" I question a bit testily. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I signed up for this. I can do this. I want to do this. Quinn grins at me. The smile catches me off guard, and I realize how truly attractive Quinn is. I'm going to have to be careful around him.

"Marco, he's a great guy. He'll help you with some self-defense moves and have you do the sit-ups and push-ups again," Quinn explains as we leave the closet, "Oh, and you'll want to leave your gun in the locker room." I nod.

"I'll see you in an hour, sweetheart," Quinn says as I head into the locker room. I find a locker and put all my stuff into it before heading out to the gym. I scan the area and see several people on the treadmills, one person giving the punching bag a beating, and one man sitting on the bench near the water cooler. I guess that's Marco. I walk over pushing my shoulders back in a fake show of confidence. Fake it till you make it, right? He looks up when I'm a few feet in front of him. He grins and stands quickly. He's not as tall as Quinn and has blonde hair. He has brown eyes and light skin. His smile is crooked but endearing. He's well-muscled, and I feel like I might be in trouble. He reaches out a hand and I shake it.

"Hi, I'm Marco," he greets in a smooth voice. I smile.

"I'm Steph, the newbie," I reply, "ready to kick my butt?" He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"Well hopefully, you'll be kicking my butt," he says before stretching, "we'll just do some basics today and have you do the sit-ups and push-ups after." I try raising an eyebrow.

"You talked to Quinn, didn't you?" I question before muttering, "he didn't tell me about this purposely." I shake my head and Marco just laughs. We start with self-defense, and I guess the years of skip-tracing have helped. I'm able to tell when he's going to do some moves because I recognize them. I'm a little wimpy on my attacks, but I'm not too bad at dodging. He gives me tips on what to do in the future and shows me ways to get out of different holds. I definitely need more practice though because while I could dodge some, I would be dead during others. I guess I'm really lucky I never got into a really serious situation. Well, I guess someone was always bailing me out. Ugh. After some practice, we go into the sit-ups and push-ups.

XXX

An hour later, I am newly sore and stepping out of the shower. I just got my ass handed to me by Marco. I think he tried going gentle, but he's still a big guy. I wasn't able to block everything he did. Marco did say I improved my push-ups. I guess Quinn updated him about how I did yesterday. I get dressed quickly before working on my hair with the supplies in the building. Honestly, I'm surprised they provide so much. I'll have to go sans makeup because I don't have my purse with me. After finishing up, I head to the hallway where I see Quinn waiting. He's back to wearing a suit, and I have to admit I like the look. He looks up from his phone as I emerge.

"About damn time, sweetheart," he says with a grin that lets me know he's not really mad. He hands me my purse before pushing off the wall. My stomach lets out a loud growl. I burned through that banana a long time ago.

"Let's go feed the beast," he says shaking his head in disbelief. We go up one floor and head towards the right. It's a kitchen with a table. He goes to the muffins on the counter and motions for me to follow.

We pour another cup of coffee and eat together. Once we finish up, we head back up to the fourth floor. We stop by Xandra's office and she smiles when she hands me my very own badge. I feel so cool! Giddy off of knowing I'm an agent, Quinn takes me one floor up. I notice it's mostly all cubicles. Only a few are taken, but he takes me over to the far left corner. A computer with two monitors sits on the desk. He motions for me to sit down.

"You can log in with this information," he says handing me a sticky note, "Once you log in you'll have to pick a unique password. You can then log on to the FBI computer system and use any of our programs." I nod liking the sound of that.

"I'll be back in a bit. I have a few things to do myself," he says before leaving me on my own.

After logging in and changing my password, I dig the Bianchi file out of my purse. I set it on the desk as I look through the search programs here. They look similar to the ones I've used at RangeMan. I even see a few of the same ones. Seeing a notepad and pencil on the desk, I grab it and get ready.

I first look up Ian's mother. Something just seemed so off by her death. I find the electronic record of the Medical Examiner's report. I don't know a lot of medical jargon, but it looks like she died of a heart attack. A small note scribbled at the bottom makes me think that maybe she was suffocated. Considering Ian's violent streak, I wouldn't put it past him. Another file on his mother catches my eye. It's sealed, but I can see I can get in. I open it and my jaw drops. Estella Bianchi had turned into a confidential informant against her family. Oh, Jesus. No wonder the Feds are all over this. I jot some notes down and look into all the properties owned by the Bianchi's. I see the apartment complex I checked out yesterday, but I also see two warehouses, a house in the Burg, and a compound at the edge of the city. The warehouses are listed as packaging factories, but I can't help but think it's a front for the drugs.

I look up the DEA agent he beat up next. I find he's still in a coma at St. Helen's. His name is George Cooper a fifty-two-year-old with a wife and two grown children. I'm able to find his report on the Bianchi's. He'd made notes about the deaths of the drug users. He had questioned the deceased a few weeks before they were gunned down. The guns used were also found at the crime scene, serial numbers scratched off and with no fingerprints. The guns seem likely to have come from the Ramos family, but there's no real proof. It wouldn't make sense for anyone in Ian's family to gun down their customers…unless they found out they snitched.

It looks like Cooper followed Ian to one of the warehouses one night and either confronted Ian or Ian noticed him and beat him to a bloody pulp. He had several missing teeth, a skull fracture, and multiple defensive wounds. He was found the next morning by a warehouse worker. After making a note to call the hospital and have them update us when/if he wakes up, I decide to look into Sarah Shupp. She went missing two months ago after a fight between her and Ian. Even the gossip mongers in Trenton don't know what the fight was about. I look into her credit card history and it looks like she made a purchase…one week ago. Interesting. Either someone stole her cards or she's still alive. It says it was used in Atlantic City. I jot down the information. Maybe if I find Sarah she can lead me to Ian or help us figure out why he would bolt.

I'm just signing off as Quinn reappears. I put my notes into the file and turn to face Quinn.

"Find out a lot?" he asks as I stand and stretch.

"Some interesting stuff," I reply, "what's next on the agenda?" He motions for me to follow him, and we end up going up one more floor. We walk into a small room with a table scattered with paper.

"This is what I've got on the Bianchi's," he explains taking a seat before we get down to business comparing notes.

XXX

"So we need to figure out why druggies are dying, find out what happened to Sarah Shupp, hopefully, bring down the Bianchi's drug business and then find Ian and turn him in," Quinn says as though we'll simply be making something dinner. While I don't think making dinner is easy, it sounds easier than the tasks we have ahead of us.

"Well I ran Sarah's credit cards and she has a charge on one from last week," I inform Quinn as I push a paper to him, "if it's her, she's in Atlantic City." He nods thoughtfully.

"Okay, so I say we take you back to Trenton. I'll stay in a hotel nearby so we can get together during the day. I can then head with you as you do your thing," Quinn suggests putting all the paperwork into a neat stack.

"Sounds good. You really want to do this my way?" I ask, a little surprised. I'm used to people telling me what to do, not the other way around.

"You have good instincts and you've caught every single one of your FTAs. I think following your lead will be the best. I'll be sure to tell you if I have an idea, but we can decide together," Quinn replies with one of his breathtaking smiles, "we're partners." I swallow a lump in my throat. No one has ever been so thoughtful. I guess I'm just used to Ranger telling me what I should do, Tank handcuffing me to himself, and Morelli berating me.