Hello everyone :) Ok, let's clear some things up first -

I am still very motivated to finish this story, so that isn't the problem. Some people seemed to be worried when I said that my muse had abandoned me for a bit, but make no mistake, this story will be finished, and it will be completed the way I want it to be. That said, I won't hash out meaningless words just to have an update up. I've spent too much time on this to drop the ball right now! And I'm not just going to throw in random Faberry interaction if it doesn't fit into the plan I have in my mind!

Secondly, let's address the irregularity of my updates.I've had two days off, and you know what I've done? I've written an update. I could have gardened, gone for a massage, taken my dogs to the beach or done a number of other things, but I chose to type away on my keyboard to get another chapter up. Think about that the next time you're writing feedback. It's what me and a number of other writers do. Please, keep the constructive criticism coming, because that helps me shape my story and characters. But give me a break for not being able to have a new chapter up every week or fortnight!

Now that I am done ranting, thank you to everyone that has sent me feedback. I have read it all, and responded to the ones I could. To anyway who has sent me feedback as a Guest, I assure you your comments are just as welcome as anyone else's. A special thank you to anyone that has written me to point out grammatical/spelling errors. Let me know if you see any in this update! And muchos gracias to everyone who has followed or favourited myself or this story.

Now, on to the update! This one is about progressing the story forward, and really just setting up the next chapter. As a writer I am very satisfied with what it does, and I hope you readers enjoy it too.

Here we go...

"Are you alright?"

Rachel stared into concerned hazel eyes, and willed her heart to slow down. Truth be told, she was terrified. She glanced past the blonde at the commotion taking place behind the taller woman, realizing that Quinn had put herself between Rachel and the-

Gasp! Rachel shot up in her bed and immediately turned her head in the direction of the alarm clock on her bedside table. The neon numbers glowed bright in the room rendered pitch dark by the blackout blinds covering the wall to ceiling windows in Rachel's room. She had slept through her alarm. Wait, had she even set her alarm?

Rachel blinked slowly, her brain beginning to really wake up. She looked back at the alarm clock with furrowed brows, and this time noticed the date blinking under the larger numbers. With a sigh, Rachel fell back onto her pillows. She was on holidays. Or at least what Jesse called a "tennis star's version of time off." The brunette let out a wry chuckle as his words resonated in her ears.

Her fathers were in the kitchen when Rachel entered the room, tying her hair up in a knot as she walked. They looked her way. "Morning, sweetheart," Hiram said, his eyes moving up to the clock on the wall behind his daughter. "Didn't feel like a sleep in?"

Rachel welcomed a kiss from Leroy as they crossed each other at the fridge and answered her Daddy while pulling out ingredients to make herself a smoothie. "My body clock's still set to training mode."

"Third day in a row, huh?" Leroy asked, sitting down opposite his husband and reaching for his coffee.

"I'm sure it'll pass," the teenager yawned, throwing some yoghurt, honey and fruit into the glass jar before blending it. For the next few moments the only sounds in the Berry kitchen came from the NutriBullet whipping Rachel's breakfast into a literal pulp.

"So, what are you doing before that interview-thing you have today?" Hiram asked when his daughter took her seat at the table.

Rachel shrugged. "I have the morning and afternoon off, so I thought I might go to the gym for-"

"But you're on holiday," Hiram interrupted.

"Yes, and I will still be a professional athlete when my holiday is over, so I would like to at least maintain my fitness and stamina levels while I have some down time," Rachel replied patiently.

"I suppose that makes sense," Hiram conceded.

"Do you also plan to hit the courts before you resume training with Shelby?" Leroy asked.

"Yes," Rachel nodded, "but just to keep the rust off. I was actually thinking of heading down to the BJK Center tomorrow to see if I could help out with one of the junior programs. They have a session in the afternoon."

"Oh, they'd love that!" Leroy smiled at his daughter.

"You don't think the coaches will think I'm interfering?" Rachel asked, uncertain.

"Of course not!" her Papa exclaimed. "Imagine Serena Williams showing up to help out when you were twelve!"

"I'm no Serena," Rachel said, shaking her head bashfully. "But yes, I get what you mean."

"And maybe you could have a hit with your two old men one of these days too, huh? Like old times," Hiram piped up.

"I would love that," Rachel grinned, "although, you better not expect me to go easy on you."

Hiram pulled a face. "As if! Which is why it will be the two of us versus you. Playing singles lines, of course." Hiram made a fist in Leroy's direction, and Rachel rolled her eyes when her fathers fist-bumped across the table.

Leroy looked at his watched as he brought his hand back. "Crap! I'm going to be late!" He jumped up, kissed his husband on the lips, kissed the top of his daughter's head, downed the last of his coffee before placing his mug on the kitchen island and ran out the kitchen, calling out "Hiram! You're in charge of dinner tonight!" Seconds later, Rachel could hear the front door open and close.

"I hear they're thinking of making a TV series about The Flash. I should send in an audition tape. Your Papa would be perfect for the part," Hiram said drily.

Rachel laughed as she rose to put her now empty glass jar into the dishwasher. "Don't you need to get going too?"

"Nope, it's surgery day. Which means I get to start a little later, and talk to my favourite daughter for a whole," Hiram glanced at his watch, "extra five minutes."

"I'm your favourite daughter, am I?" Rachel asked, resting her elbows on the island bench and leaning forwards. "Could that maybe be because I'm your only daughter?"

Hiram shook his head as she stood up, "You're my favourite daughter because you're my favourite daugher. Which is why you're the one going to Chicago this weekend to watch Kinky Boots with Leroy and I."

Rachel squealed. "Really?" she said, running up to give her Daddy a hug.

"Really. We even checked with Jesse to make sure you didn't have any work commitments scheduled for this weekend before booking the tickets," Hiram replied.

"Thanks Daddy," Rachel said. "I can't wait. Yay! Something to look forward to!"

"Mmm, your Papa and I thought you might be going a little stir crazy," Hiram said. "Which is frightening, since you haven't even been off for half a week yet..."

"I'm not going stir crazy," Rachel defended herself. Hiram merely raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her. "Ok fine! I've been a little bored when you guys aren't home, but that's just because I'm not used to not having any spare time to myself."

"I can understand that," Hiram said, wrapping an arm around his daughter. "Why don't you go out and see some of your friends?"

"I saw them yesterday," Rachel shrugged.

"All of them? In one day?" Hiram asked, looking confused.

"Most of my friends from New York are the ones I trained with at the USTA center. The ones that now play on tour are back with their own families across America, and the ones that didn't make it are away at university. Which leaves Jonathan and Gwen, who I saw yesterday," Rachel said. "If it helps, I'm seeing Kurt for lunch tomorrow."

"Ah, ok, I get it," Hiram said. "Well, all I can say Rach is that your month off will be over before you know it so, as hard as it might seem, please try and give your batteries the rest they need to recharge properly. You need the time off after the year you've had. Do what you need to do to keep your fitness and stamina levels up, yes, but, I don't know, maybe lie down in front of the TV and catch up on all the movies you've missed over the last year!"

Rachel pondered his words. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea."

"I'm full of good ideas," Hiram crowed. "You just need to listen to me more often."

"Aren't your five minutes up?" Rachel asked, giving him a pointed look.

"I love you too," Hiram said, turning to make his way to the door. "Will you be back in time for dinner tonight? I'm cooking Thai curry."

"Yum," Rachel said, following him out the kitchen. "Yeah, I should be home by seven at the latest. That's when the segment airs so I should actually be done well before then."

Sure enough, it was five-twenty in the evening when Rachel was led from her makeup room to a small studio in the Time Warner Building, and fitted with a microphone and earpiece before being asked to sit down with her back to the green screen. A large monitor was placed before her, so she could see the broadcast journalist himself as well as the footage that would be playing while they were speaking to one another via CNN's video link from the company's Atlanta Center.

"The lights are about to come on Ms. Berry. They might give you a blind sport for a couple of seconds," a voice called out from somewhere behind the camera that was pointed right at her.

Rachel nodded. She'd been through this drill enough times to know how it worked by now, and made sure she was looking at the floor when the lights were turned on. After a few seconds she looked up, running her gaze from the monitor to the camera that was right above it. As expected, she couldn't see anything beyond the camera.

"Are you alright Ms. Berry?" the same voice from before asked.

"I'm fine, thank you," she answered, reaching for the glass of water beside her and taking a small sip.

"Ok, we're about to bring Mark in via satellite," the voice said. Sure enough, the bespectacled, friendly face of a man popped up on the monitor.

"Hi Rachel," the journalist smiled.

"Hi Mark," the brunette smiled back. "How are you?"

"Good, thanks. Congratulations on, well, everything you've achieved since we last met. Especially the Davis Cup," he grinned.

Rachel could hear some discussion about a slight lag time as she thanked the journalist, who was one of the first people to interview her after she won the US Open. "I think there's a slight delay here, so the guys are just going to fix that up before we start taping. Have they walked you through what we're doing?"

"Yeah, Jesse, my agent, he's here, so I've been briefed. You have some footage from the finals and we'll be talking about the win, right?" Rachel answered.

"Exactly," Mark replied, and Rachel noticed that he did indeed take an extra second or two to answer. There was the delay. "It should be nice and simple. Just one question before we start – is there anything you wouldn't be comfortable talking about?"

Jesse had already asked her this question, so Rachel had had time to think about it. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "No, nothing I can think of. And if something does come up then I'll let you know. Is that ok?"

"That's the magic of pre-taped segments," Mark smiled. "You say- Sorry, just a moment Rachel, my producer's talking to me. Uh huh, sure, got it, Bob. Apparently we're ready to go. As I was saying, you say stop and we'll stop. Ok?"

Rachel nodded. "Ok, you'll hear a countdown to one in your earpiece, and I'll start right after," Mark finished.

The brunette saw him reach for a glass of water and did the same on her side of the feed as a deep voice began counting down from five. "...two, one, go..."

"This past weekend saw the US Federation Cup team bring the trophy back to American shores for the eighteenth time in the tournament's history, with the US making a dramatic comeback from two-one down to win the annual tennis team championship. Joining World Sport from New York now we have one of the stars of the weekend, Rachel Berry. Welcome to show Rachel," Mark began.

"Thanks for having me Mark," Rachel smiled back.

"Congratulations on being a newly minted Fed Cup champion. Does it feel surreal, especially considering that this was your first ever tie for your country?" he asked.

Rachel nodded, "Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, it's always been a dream of mine to play for my country, and getting the opportunity in a final was just... there are honestly no words to describe what that's like."

Mark nodded, "So walk us through what you were thinking going into that reverse singles tie against Fournier. Was the pressure immense, considering you had lost your opening singles match?"

"Well," Rachel began thoughtfully, "obviously I knew that I had to win to keep our chances alive. So yeah, there was pressure, but I will say that Emma Pillsbury, our captain, was fantastic about keeping me in a good headspace and keeping me calm. I was half afraid she'd suggest asking Marley to play the reverse singles instead of me, but she never brought it up. And I'm so grateful that she kept the faith in me."

"There was some media speculation that Pillsbury would ask Rose to step in after Stephens and Bellis lost the doubles against Vause and Burset. So that never came up within the team?" Mark questioned.

"Never" Rachel said, with a shake of the head. "And Marley personally spent extra time with me on court after the doubles loss so make no mistake, she was as instrumental to this win as any of us that actually got match play." Rachel smiled when an image of Marley cheering from the sidelines in her red, white and blue team kit popped up on the screen.

"Ok, so you're on the court, serving for match at 6-3, 5-3 up, when an intruder jumps onto the court. What was going through your mind?" came the next question.

Rachel took a deep breath, her eyes glued to the pictures of the man with the American flag painted on his face that were playing in a slideshow of sorts on the monitor. She took in her own rigid posture, her racket up in front of her as the man headed her way. "Well, I remember I was facing the ball kids behind me, and as they were bouncing balls my way I heard murmurs from the crowd that didn't sound like the normal chatter at a tennis match. It's hard to explain. But yeah, I looked up and the ball kids were staring at something over my shoulder, so I turned around and saw this man running past Danielle, heading my way. Raising my racket in front of me as a sort of barrier was just instinctive, I guess."

"Were you afraid?" Mark asked.

"Oh, yeah," Rachel nodded. "I think after what happened with Seles everyone's just scared when they see an intruder on court. Unfortunately you just never know what their intentions are."

"The Roland Garros security is getting some flak for being slow to react," Mark pressed.

"And I think that's justified," Rachel stated, her tone matter-of-fact. "That's what the security is meant to be there for, right? So the fact that someone was able to get past what, ten or twelve guards lining the court, means there's a definite problem there. And this isn't the first time it's happened there either. The same thing happened in '09, during the Federer-Soderling final. And a few other times too."

The footage on the screen changed to a video of the action, and Mark's voice came through her earpiece, "So it looked like you were basically a deer in headlights and then out comes Quinn Fabray"

Rachel stared at the footage she had already viewed over and over again. It was a wide shot of Rachel slowly backing away from the intruder who was at the net by that point. In the background you could see Quinn jump over the courtside advertising board that the US team was sitting behind and start to sprint towards Rachel. Behind her the security men guarding the American team finally seemed to react too, and they followed the blonde World No. 1 onto the court. Fortunately the guards behind the camera had followed suit too, and tackled the intruder milliseconds after Quinn slid to a stop in front of Rachel, effectively shielding the smaller woman behind her back. The man had been less than three meters away from Rachel at that point.

Rachel didn't realize when she started speaking. "I honestly didn't notice Quinn till she was standing right in front of me. Actually I don't think I even understood what was going on till she turned around and asked me if I was alright. I was so focused on watching the guy coming at me that everything else just just bled into the background. I think seeing him tackled to the ground snapped me out of it."

"The media is calling her actions brave. Like you said, you didn't really know what the intruders intentions were," Mark pointed out.

"Oh, Quinn's incredible," Rachel said, her eyes wide open. "Just the fact that she came out to protect me, defend me, it's... it's as selfless as it gets. I am so grateful to be able to call her my friend."

"And she reacted faster than the security staff," Mark said with a chuckle, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "Is she also a secret superhero?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that," Rachel joked back.

"Well, you might have your own superhero powers, the way you won that match," Mark complimented.

Rachel shrugged, "I think it was obvious that I was shaken up, and did a miserable job of serving for the match. My head was still a mess when I sat down at 5-4, but Emma calmed me down in that changeover. She told me I was safe, and to forget everything except the ball. It was easier said than done but I managed to hold my serve to go up 6-5 and found my groove again in the second half of the tiebreaker. To be honest I was willing myself to get the job done because I didn't want to have to spend another set freaking out on court," she laughed.

"And then Fabray came out and practically blitzed Delacour off the court," Mark pointed out.

"Yeah, she proved to us all why she's the top-ranked player in the world," Rachel agreed.

Mark took a different line of questioning, "The US team kept its victory celebrations pretty low-key, but does the invitation to the White House make up for that?"

"Oh, definitely! We've been invited to the lighting of the National Christmas Tree, and everyone is very excited," Rachel said, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Ok, last question," Mark smiled. "Your freshman year on tour has been one most players only dream off, complete with your first Slam and a Federation cup title under your belt. How do you think you'll deal with the pressure of being a top gun in 2013?"

"I don't think I'll really know until the year starts but, yeah, it will definitely be different to where I was at the same time last year. I have a great coach and team of people working with me, so hopefully we pick up right where we left off in 2012," Rachel replied. "But first, I'm looking forward to a mini-vacation with my fathers!"

"Well, good luck to you, Rachel. And thanks for joining us on World Sport," Mark concluded.

"Thanks Mark," Rachel smiled.

"And cut!" came the call in her earpiece. The brunette exchanged a few pleasantries with the journalist before the screen went blank and someone from the sound department came to take her mic and earpiece off her. The tennis player was ready to go home. It had been too long since she'd eaten her Papa's Thai curry.

The green curry was as delicious as Rachel remembered it, and she had taken a bite from her bowl even before she plonked herself down on the couch between her fathers. "Have you set it to record?" Hiram asked Leroy.

"Yup," Leroy replied, shoveling some food into his mouth. "Mmm, excellent job as always, honey," he complimented his husband.

"Seconded," Rachel threw in.

"I aim to please" Hiram grinned. "Ok, shh! It's about to start!"

The three Berry's watched the broadcast of Rachel's interview in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from the TV and their ceramic dinner bowls. The pictures and footage that Rachel had seen earlier intermittently filled the screen as a backdrop to her answers, with the editors cutting out her occasional silent spells. Other than that the short interview was largely left unchanged.

Leroy pressed a button on the remote, presumably to stop recording the program. "That was nice, sweetheart," he said. "I thought you handled the questions well."

"Thanks Daddy," Rachel replied. "Jesse had run me through which questions I could expect, and we'd prepped for the ones about the intruder."

"Still, you looked comfortable taking the questions. And it looked like you answered them honestly," Leroy asserted.

"I'm always amazed when I see the footage of Quinn jumping out to your defense," Hiram piped up. "As if I wasn't already amazed by the girl whose got our baby in a spin."

"Papa!" Rachel protested, blushing.

"What? It's a compliment! You've chosen well!" Hiram said. "You should totally tell her how you feel."

Rachel spluttered, unable to form an actual retort. Leroy, who had been watching her with a thoughtful expression, spoke up. "He's right. Watch that video again, and look at her expression. That girl cares for you deeply. Maybe it's a romantic love, maybe it's platonic, but it's definitely there. So tell her. She doesn't seem like the sort of person to stop talking to a friend who has feelings for her. And it might give you some clarity too, or maybe even closure. Unless you prefer just sitting around and obsessing over the unknown."

The brunette's kneejerk reaction to her fathers' advice was to get defensive, but the logical part of her knew they were right. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she gave them an almost imperceptible nod. "I know you're right, both of you. And... I'm trying to build the courage. I'm going to Miami in a couple of weeks, so maybe I'll be brave enough by then."

Hiram reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "At the end of the day it's up to you, Rach. Believe us, we know that advising someone is a whole different ballgame than taking that leap yourself. So whatever you choose to do, we'll support you. Just, don't let something good pass you by, ok?"

Rachel bobbed her head up and down, and Leroy stood up on her other side. "Ok, who's up for some dessert? Ice cream?

"Not so fast mister, you have dishes to do first," Hiram said, rising to follow his husband to the kitchen.

"Oh, I can do the dishes. Papa, you get dessert sorted. And pick a movie" Rachel called, and moved to get up as well when her phone pinged. She glanced at the locked screen, which bore a new message.

Quinn Fabray So I'm incredible and selfless, am I? ;)

Rachel grinned at the message, and quickly unlocked her phone to type out a reply. 'The lies I'm forced to propagate on national television...'

She hadn't even put her phone down when Quinn shot back a scandalized-looking emoji. The brunette laughed as she locked her screen before going to help out in the kitchen.

Her fathers were right, a determined Rachel thought as she walked. Obsessing over the unknown no longer felt like the right approach.