A/N: Hi guys! So, here's the deal: I got to writing this chapter, and it took its own turn and I've decided to split the last part up into two chapters. Not to be a tease, honestly, but the M-rated stuff will only come in the last part of the next chapter, so hopefully you'll stick around for that!

Enjoy!

xXx
CeruleanBlues

Roads Untraveled

Part 4

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
14.04.2805, 0700hrs (New Earth)

She solved it just as the sun was rising; the final clue to the finishing point, and almost stumbled over her own two feet as she made a mad dash for the team leader. Sam caught her just in time before she barreled head first into him, and then she was shoving her journal at his chest.

"I've found the entrance," she declared, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. "It's so simple and so explicitly obvious, I don't know why nobody had found or figured it out sooner."

"Because there's only a small handful of people who can actually read Circular Gallifreyan?" Sam sassed with a chuckle.

Quinn narrowed her eyes playfully at the agent. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Oh, that was definitely a compliment."

"So where is the entrance?" Mike asked as everybody else huddled around, reeling them back to the present before they could start shamelessly flirting again. "And if it's so obvious, how are we sure nobody had been there or seen it?"

Snatching her book back from Agent Evans, Quinn pointed to a line in her translation and began explaining in rushed, ecstatic tones. "It's not that nobody has never been there; nobody knew where the entrance is. There's a path that starts three miles from here that will lead us up to the Citadel of the Time Lords. It's in ruins now, but like everything else so far, the entrance is found on the ground; a secret passage. I mean, I've been there countless times and I'm not sure how I could've missed it."

Finn arched a skeptical eyebrow. "And you're sure you can find it this time round?"

She beamed, her hazel eyes twinkling off the sunlight.

"Absolutely."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
14.04.2805, 0930hrs (New Earth)

After two hours of tumulus trekking under the scorching heat, they finally came upon a clearing. It wasn't pretty, not even remotely how he had envisioned a once-magnificent structure that—according to Quinn—was an important landmark on Gallifrey and the galaxies surrounding it, but rather a dismal dumping ground for rubble and crumbling structures. A skeletal edifice stood in the heart of it all; remnants of what would've been a spherical force field encompassing the city that now stood precariously in the center of a circular trench that seemed to stretch for eons.

"That's the Citadel?" he questioned, turning to face the epigrapher.

She looked crushed by the sight, lips quivering. "That's it," she murmured, her voice cracking with emotion. "Not much of it left now, but could you just imagine how it must've been like when the Time Lords were roaming about."

"I would've liked to meet them," Sam told her earnestly, offering a comforting smile.

She returned his soft grin with her own. "Me too."

"I don't mean to burst that little bubble of yours, but I think the sight-seeing has expired five minutes ago," Puck quipped. "We should really get to it."

Sam nodded, switching back into his professional mode that entailed him dishing out instructions to the rest of his men. "Brody, take the thermal and scan the area for heat signatures. We need to make sure that we don't have unwanted company," he said as he began tapping away on his wrist monitor and projected a holographic representation of the Citadel. "Finn, I need you to analyze the stability of the structure; whether or not it's safe to venture in—"

"It's safe," Quinn interjected. "I've been inside many times before."

"Precautionary measures, Quinn," he informed her solemnly. "Just let us do our jobs, okay?"

She heaved a sigh and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, but I'm just saying that you're wasting your time. Gallifrey hadn't had a single living specimen reside in over thousands of years—"

Sam leaned in and seized her lips, kissing her soundless.

"There, much better," he preened at her speechless state. "Puck, I want you to run diagnostics on surveillance, what are our best angles, whether or not we need a man stationed at crow's nest. Mike, you and I, we'll be covering tactical; if there are exits we can use in an emergency evacuation—"

"Oh, for the love of God," Quinn huffed, her patience clearly running out as she trudged forward. "Is all that really necessary? Besides, I thought we're running out of time?"

He blinked and watched, frozen on the spot as she confidently strode towards one of the bridges that would take them across the wide threshold. Expertly, she navigated through the large piles of debris; that stubborn woman was going to be the death of him, he was certain.

"Should we go after her?" Mike's question broke the silence.

"Yeah," he agreed, clearing his throat. "We should."

Disregarding the usual mission protocol, Sam quickly caught up to her, cataloguing details with each step and knowing that his team was doing the same. He peered down at the drop and saw nothing but darkness for miles, and wondered what the hell the Citadel actually was to the Time Lords. There were twelve bridges in total that connected to the city; it was a good number to work with and he noted possible exit spots on his wrist monitor.

"This is number four," Quinn announced all of a sudden as she came to a halt and studied the hieroglyph carved to the side of a pillar. "We need to find number seven."

Brody stood next to her and tilted his head as he too stared down at the symbol. "What does the number seven in Circular Gallifreyan look like?"

She didn't even need to stop to think before she was on her knees and drawing circles in the sand and dirt. "Like that."

"Okay, guys, split up," Sam told his team.

They scattered in different directions, and it wasn't long until Mike radioed back on his headset that he had found the seventh bridge, uploading his location onto everybody's wrist monitor.

"Okay, so we've found the seventh bridge," Brody pointed out unnecessarily. "Now what?"

All eyes were on the resident epigrapher, waiting expectantly for her next move. Looking thoughtful and intrigued, she tentatively crouched down to trace the hieroglyph. With a huge grin on her face, she glanced back up to the five guys standing in a circle around her.

"You ready?" she burbled giddily.

"Ready for what?" Puck muttered.

Her smile only grew. "This."

Fingers mapped out against the carving of the symbol, she applied an amount of pressure, and to everyone's amazement, it sunk in. Quinn paused, adjusting her stance as she sat on her heels, and then inhaled a long intake of air. Glancing over her shoulders at Sam, she gave him an elvish wink and turned the dial clockwise.

The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet, the bridge quaking, and instinctively, he threw himself down to shield her from any impending danger. Her fingers grasped onto his biceps, her nose buried in the crook of his neck, and he took a second to revel at the feel of having her in his arms, but all too soon it was over. She pulled away abruptly and jumped to her feet, eyes trained on something behind him as she sharply drew a breath. He spun around, and his gaze landed on a small opening in what seemed to be an absolutely random piece of wall.

"Is that it?" he asked her.

She was positively lucent as she nodded. "I think so."

"Men, we're going in high alert; keep your monitors on full surveillance," he told his agents. "We're in flank, I'm taking head and Finn, I want you on tail. Quinn is our Scorpio trigger, no questions asked."

At the sound of her name, she snapped her head around to regard him with narrowed eyes. "Does it all mean something or are they just a bunch of words to make you guys sound professional?"

He sniffed, double-checking his sonic blaster and activating the scope lights. "We are professionals, Quinn."

She shrugged. "We'll see."

With a mildly-offended scoff, he dropped a quick peck onto her lips, unable to resist such temptation. The teasing tongue-touched grin he received in response made the chorus of groans from his teammates worth it. He sobered up after that, and took charge, heading the group from the front. Keeping a firm hold on his weapon, Sam cautiously trudged through the threshold, the beam of light from his blaster bouncing off the solid white walls and down the dark corridor that seemed to lead nowhere.

Tightening his grip on the firearm, he took another step forward. Instantly, the hallway was illuminated in a blue glow. He froze, muscles flexing, until he heard Quinn gasp behind him.

"Oh, my God," she whispered in awe. "This is beautiful."

Hieroglyphs that appeared like Old Greek letters and mathematical symbols decorated the wide span of otherwise blank slabs in elegant golden inscriptions, neat rows that filled the high ceiling like painted frescos. Orb lamps lined the passageway, lending themselves to the incandescence of what had once been the pride and glory of Gallifrey. It was then that Sam understood Quinn's dedication to understanding the Time Lords and their rich magnificence. Despite the disfigurement found on the outside—the debris and destruction—he found everything else that was beautiful here on the inside.

"I can't believe I'm here looking at this," Quinn exclaimed breathlessly. "This is amazing; history and science and secrets right here in the Citadel. All of this could change everything in the archaeological field; everything that we thought we knew about Gallifrey and the Time Lords."

"They're not in Circular Gallifreyan," Brody noticed.

"This is Old High Gallifreyan," she explained. "It's an ancient language of the Time Lords, virtually extinct centuries ago. Nobody has ever seen or read them, but it was mentioned in the codices."

"So you can't translate them, then?" Mike asked.

Sam peered over his shoulder to see Quinn shrugging hers. "I might be able to, given time, of course."

"Eyes peeled, guys," he murmured, luring them back on track. "We have possibilities of security rigs and booby-traps."

Their footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, everybody on high-alert for anything suspicious. They reached a corner at the end and he waved at the rest to stop as he inched closer, keeping his back against the wall. He peered around, and after ensuring that the coast was clear, gave an indication that he was going to proceed on.

Almost simultaneously, their equipment began emitting a shrill high-pitched frequency, and then suddenly, their wrist monitors went completely blank.

"Shit," Sam cursed under his breath as he furiously tried to revive his gadgets. "Not again."

"Did they already manage to overwrite the stabilizer?" Puck growled, turning to Mike for his expert opinion on everything technology.

"That's not possible," the agent replied calmly, slipping the thermal scanner back into his thigh holster. "With the number of layers of firewall I've blasted their system with, it would take them weeks to crack them all."

"Something else is blocking our gear, then," Sam spat out in frustration, hating how they would be partially blinded from here on. "Perhaps someone else has intercepted our frequencies."

"Could just be the Citadel, gentlemen," Quinn rationalized, unfazed. "Come on, think about it; do you think the Time Lords wouldn't have placed a dampener or a filter around this secret passage? This place possibly holds the most important thing on this entire planet; there's no way such an advanced civilization wouldn't have at least had some security walls blocking technology from any forms of detection."

"She has a point," Brody agreed. "We're not receiving feedbacks; we're just fully cut-off from our equipment."

Sam nodded. "Alright, then, team, we're going in half-blind so we'll have to go low and slow. Quinn is still our Scorpio trigger; we're still bingo on the mission."

After receiving a round of affirmatives from his fellow agents, Sam went into position ahead of the pack and continued down another long corridor. The bluish glow became dimmer the deeper in they ventured, and then it was a maze of twists and turns; a labyrinth in the midst of the Citadel, and he could only guess that they were heading to the heart of it all. He felt the increase in air pressure, the heaviness settling in his chest as his lungs expanded to accommodate to the change. Behind him, he heard Quinn's shallow breathing and craned his neck around to check up on her.

"You okay, Quinn?"

"Yeah," she wheezed. "Just not used to this."

"Not going to pass out, are you?"

"I'll be fine," she swallowed hard. "Time Lords had a far more superior biology than we humans do, so this wouldn't have affected them as much as it does us."

"There's a tank of reserve oxygen in your backpack," he told her. "Use it."

Sam heard a series of shuffling amongst the scuffing of boots, and a few seconds later he identified the hiss of the Reserve Oxygen Tank being activated.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"You're welcome."

They made good distance until they came to a fork in the passageway. There were symbols on the walls with arrows pointing to either sides; directions.

"It's not Circular Gallifreyan, Quinn, but it'll be really helpful if you can somehow decipher it in the next five minutes or so," Sam turned to her.

She took a step forward, squinting her eyes at the hieroglyphs and trying to make sense of the foreign language. When that didn't work, she clicked her tongue and reached into her satchel for the codex and began frantically flipping through the fragile pages, not caring if she was potentially damaging a precious artifact. Right at that moment, nobody gave a horse's ass.

"The fifth volume of the almanac," she explained, looking to the lads. "This is where it all began, that fateful day when I realized we've been going about translating Circular Gallifreyan the wrong way. There was a brief mention of directions in here; I remember it. I just need to find the exact page it was on."

Sam wasn't even sure that speed-translation was a specialty, but Quinn made it seem effortless, and then she was whooping triumphantly.

"Okay, so it says here," she read, her index finger tracing over the characters. "'If you go right, you wouldn't know what's left'."

"It's left then, right?" Brody mused out loud.

Sam scrunched his nose up. "What?" he snickered incredulously. "Which is it, Brody? Left or right?"

The decision was unanimous.

"Left."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
14.04.2805, 1145hrs (New Earth)

They stumbled upon a circular room, lit up in the same bluish tinge and orb lamps lining the walls in that similar fashion. It was massive—probably bigger on the inside, in fact—and right smack in the center of it all was a podium. A spotlight shone down on it like a halo from the heavens, and as Quinn cautiously approached with bated breath, she was momentarily stunned when her eyes landed on the ancient book—the book that she had dedicated the better part of her career searching—encased in a cylindrical force field.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, the quiet of her voice echoing in the space. "The Book of Rassilon. It's beautiful."

"We need to deactivate the force fields," Sam's command sliced through the air, breaking the spell. "Is there a way to it?"

Quinn tore her gaze away from the artifact. "I don't—I don't know—"

"A button, or a dial, or something, Quinn," he snapped, growing impatient; something she couldn't exactly understand. "What is it?"

"I don't know!" she cried out. "I have no fucking clue, Agent Sam Evans."

He trudged past her towards the pedestal, marching with purposeful intent of a soldier focused on a mission, but she quickly brushed it off as just that. They were there to retrieve the book and head back to Torchwood before Sue Sylvester and her posse could get their hands on it first. With that in mind, she followed after him as Puck and Finn kept watch at the entrance. Mike and Brody met them halfway and together, they stood around the podium just staring at the book.

"There has to be a sensor or instructions or something," Sam muttered. "Any further clues from those codices of yours?"

"Codices…" she trailed off.

"What if we just sonic it?" Mike suggested, pulling out his mini blaster.

"No!" Quinn blurted out. "There's a chance you might just burn a hole in the book."

He seemed like he was about to say something, but Sam beat him to it. "We'll take that chance, Quinn."

Before she could protest any further, he had his firearm drawn and had shot a singular beam at the force fields. She flinched away on reflex, but then realized that his sonic blast hadn't even penetrated the shield in the least bit and watched as the agents exchanged perplexed glances.

"What the hell—"

"I'm at a maximum with my blaster," Sam informed his teammates. "We'll fire a simultaneous shot; hopefully it'll penetrate the force field enough to create a temporary crack."

"Roger that," Mike nodded, Brody following suit as both men held their weapons up.

"On my count," Sam ordered. "In three, two, one."

Quinn sucked in a sharp intake of air as the force fields faltered slightly, but otherwise stayed very much intact.

"We need more fire power if we're even going to attempt at a small crack," Brody groaned. "At this rate, I'll drain my blaster in three seconds flat."

"Puck! Finn!" Sam hollered. "Need you up here, pronto. Now, Quinn, when the force field is weakened, and when I say 'now', you'll have to reach in and retrieve the book."

She bopped her head in understanding, and when all five men were properly positioned and poised to shoot, she widened her stance, planting her feet firmly to the ground. Her lips had gone dry, her palms a bit clammy from the anticipation, and she prayed to God that Sam's plan would work or she would risk leaving the planet with a decapitated arm.

"Ready in three, two, one—"

Five beams of sonic blasts speared through the thick membrane in an attempt to diffuse the atoms, or at the very most create an unstable reaction just enough to cause an opening. The force field flickered, the shield thinning considerably.

"Now!"

Her muscles snapped into action, and before Quinn could register her movements, she had successfully snatched the book from its cradle, hugging it protectively to her chest. The sonic blasts have ceased and the force fields were back in place; five agents panting from the exertion, but her attention was fully immersed in the old relic in her hands. Gingerly, she traced the hard edges with the pads of her fingers—some type of Gallifreyan wooden composite that resembled dark oak—and down to the intricate carvings found on the front cover. Old High Gallifreyan symbols bordered its sides, and plastered right in the middle is a three-dimensional sphere half-protruding out in a bump and polished to the nines.

"The Book of Rassilon," she breathed. "I can't believe it."

And then reality caught up with her; of the dangers that the book could bring.

Weep not for roads untraveled
Weep not for sights unseen

"We need to leave, now."

"No, we need to destroy it."

Sam's harsh words pierced through the air, searing through her heart and leaving her in a daze of confusion. Defensively, she took a step back.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed. "No, we don't."

He wasn't deterred and moved to close the distance between them, though she kept him at arm's length. "Quinn, we have to."

"That's bullshit," she retorted. "We're not destroying the book."

"That's our mission, Quinn," he thundered, his voice reverberating through the concaved walls. "It was never to leave Gallifrey with the book. Our strict orders from the Director are to destroy it."

"Why the fuck would he want to destroy the book?" she flared up, close to sobs. "Centuries of Time Lord history are in this book; this changes everything in the archaeological field. We'll be able to study their technology, their science; how could someone think to destroy something so precious?"

"Because of the dangers it attracts," Sam replied, all the authority of a team leader and none of the compassion of a possible lover. "This book is a threat to the entire universe. The Director felt that it wasn't worth the resources needed to ensure that it would be kept safe. Torchwood's alternative would be to destroy it completely."

Her vision was clouded by unshed tears. "And what do you think of all this, Agent Sam Evans?" she questioned, her tone low, and the storm brewing from deep within. "Are you going to take away the one thing that I've worked so hard to search for—that we've worked so hard for these past few days—and see it all go to dust?"

"This isn't about us, Quinn," he shot back. "We're hired by Torchwood to follow orders. That's all I'm doing."

"And what about me, then?" she demanded, recalling Brody's words to her. "This book is my future, Sam; it's what I have left after this insanity is over. You get to go back to being the secret agent for Torchwood, but what else do I have? Translate more codices? This book will change things for me; a chance to make a difference in my field of expertise, to make a name for myself. What else do I have to go back to when I leave Gallifrey? I don't have a job anymore; fuck, I'm officially dead, so excuse me if I find your orders completely unreasonable."

"You can't pin the blame on me for this," he fumed. "I'm just following the orders of my superiors, because yes, unlike you, I have a job to do. I'm sorry if that's not what you want."

"What I want?" she scoffed, furiously scrubbing away the tear-tracks on her cheeks. "You have no bleeding idea what I want. Of course, why would you care at all, right? Brody was right all along. When this is over, when you're done with this mission, we're just going to go our separate ways and forget this even happened at all, so you know what?" Crossing the remaining distance between them, she shoved the book into his chest. "Just do it."

May your love never end
And if you need a friend
There's a seat here alongside me

With one last parting glare, she spun on her heels and stalked out of the room.

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
14.04.2805, 1240hrs (New Earth)

"Maybe we should—"

"Let her go, Sam," Puck interjected, placing a hand on the team leader's shoulder. "Give her some space."

Sam stared after the female epigrapher's retreating form, feeling a sickening slither in the pit of his stomach as the harshness of his words rang back in his ears. The crushed look in her mesmerizing hazel eyes would haunt him in the darkest of nights, but the one thing that he knew would be unforgivable was breaking her trust. He had been cold; the secret agent in him acting out, and even though the mission was no excuse to cut her like that, he had gone ahead and done it anyway.

One thing about what she had said, however stood out to him like mauve alert.

He turned to face one of his men.

"What did she mean by that comment?" he demanded to know, arching his eyebrow at Agent Brody Weston. "Why did she say that you were right? What did you say to her?"

He raised both his hands up in a calming gesture before he could receive a stripping down from his team leader. "The truth, Sam. You and Quinn are becoming way too cozy; you're starting to think with your dick instead of your head—"

"Careful there, Brody—"

"No, Sam," the other dude shot back, jabbing him square in the chest. "I'm not placing my ass on the line for some booty call. We're on a mission, and I'm not sure if you fell asleep during our field trainings, but we're not allowed to be emotionally attached to anything on the case, and that includes pretty blondes, all right? So what will it be, Agent Evans? Do we destroy this book and complete this damn mission so that we can get back to a hot bath and a nice meal, or are we going to stand here and let your pussy-whipped—"

"Okay, that's enough," Sam barked, shoving Brody aside. "I'm team leader and I'll make the call, whether you like it or—"

He was cut off by a blood-curling scream that shook his nerves, and then he heard his name in a yell that was no mistaking whom it belonged to.

"Sam!"

"Shit, Quinn!"

They took off immediately.

His legs were pumping double-speed, his heart pounding in his ribcage, but the only thing on his mind was of a certain female and the last thing he had verbally thrown at her. He couldn't even be bothered if the rest of his teammates weren't trailing behind; all could think of was getting to her.

"Quinn!" he hollered, his voice booming down the empty corridors, the Book of Rassilon still in his hands. "Quinn, where are you?"

It felt like an endless maze; he had no fucking clue where he was even going.

"Sam!"

Someone slammed into him all of a sudden, blindsiding him and nearly knocking him over. A rush of blonde hit his face, but he was barely able to register anything Quinn was trying to tell him before noticing the group of Sue's henchmen charging towards them.

"Go! Run!" he forcefully instructed her. "Don't stop!"

He drew a sonic blaster from his thigh holster, and then signaled to his team to fall back round a corner. Hastily, he tucked the book into his vest for safe-keeping. Heavy footsteps were fast approaching. Sam gave the nod and the agents launched into an attack.

Shots were fired; beams flashed above his head as he took a round-kick at the nearest perpetrator, effectively disarming him. As the weapon clattered to the ground, he took a swing to the goon's side, sending him stumbling backwards. Another hit to the middle knocked him out good.

He didn't see the fist coming, clocking him below the jaw and splitting him on the lip. It barely stunned him—accustomed combat specialist that he was—but the guy brave enough to throw the punch was quickly swept off his feet. There was a sickening crack as he broke his nose—something that thoroughly satisfied the agent—and he was about to render him unconscious when three punctuated shots rang in the air.

"Okay, that's enough of this barbaric brawling," came a lazy drawl full of self-satisfaction.

Whipping around, Sam froze when he saw one Professor Sue Sylvester with an arm wrapped around a terrified-looking Quinn Fabray and a sonic blaster pointed to her temple. His fingers twitched to reach for his own weapon, but he held still.

"Don't even think about it, cowboy," she smirked, lips curling menacingly. "One wrong move and you'll see bits of her beautiful brain plastered to the walls."

In his peripheral, he noticed his team surging forward. He held his hand out to stop them, giving a subtle shake of his head.

"You're a smart boy, agent," the tracksuit-clad marauder sneered. "Now, hand over that damn book."

He swallowed hard, keeping a mask of indifference. "I don't have it."

"Don't test me, boy," she growled, pressing the nozzle deeper into Quinn's flesh. The epigrapher whimpered in fear, her hazel eyes wide and watery. "We can just settle this the easy way and nobody gets hurt. Now, I'm going to ask you nicely one last time; hand over that Goddamn book."

Torn between decisions, he kept his gaze firmly glued to the dictatorial woman. As a Torchwood agent, his missions hadn't been focused on hostage negotiation. They were the guys that finished the jobs that needed to be wrapped up, and for the first time in his career, Agent Sam Evans was at a loss. One look at Quinn, however—the wonderful person caught in this mess—and he knew he had to make a swift decision based on his gut instinct; protocols be damned.

"I don't have it," he repeated, enunciating each syllable.

"That's not very smart of you."

An unfamiliar voice joined in the intervention; Mercedes Jones. She stood, feet apart and cradling her own sonic blaster in both her hands, an eyebrow arched expectantly, a frown on her ruby-red lips.

She pulled the trigger.

Quinn gave an outcry. "No!"

Puck flinched, and then crumbled in a heap, clutching onto his arm. "Fuck! Fucking hell, the bitch shot me."

"Hand over the book," the voluptuous epigrapher faux-sweetly demanded. "Or I'm going to start using more of you as target practice."

"Just give it to her, Sam," Quinn sobbed. "It's not worth it."

"Don't," Puck bit out. "She's just going to fucking shoot, anyway."

The weight of the book dug into his skin, reminding him of the choices and lives at stake— of the future of the universe—and instinctively, he curled his fingers into clenched fists.

"Yeah, Sam," Mercedes taunted. "Just like this."

Before his reflex could kick in, Finn was down. She had him shot at the thigh, looking smug and pleased about it as Quinn's scream echoed down the hallways.

"Stop! Mercedes, don't! Don't do this!" Quinn was in near hysterics, trying to escape Sue's tight grasp. "You don't need to shoot anybody. Sam, just please, please give her the book."

She was right; he couldn't risk anymore of his men.

Very hesitantly, Sam fished into his vest for the offending artifact.

"Nice and easy, just slide it over," Sue instructed.

He reluctantly obliged, hating every single second it seemed like he was surrendering.

"Jones, grab it and let's get the hell out of this shit hole."

Pompously, Mercedes strutted over to join her partner-in-command, picking the book off the floor along the way and waving it up triumphantly in the air like a prized trophy. "It's been a pleasure working with you, boys, but unfortunately, we need to bounce. Thank you so much for your kind generosity and hard work. You'll be mentioned in our memoirs—"

"We get it, Jones," Sue deadpanned, growing steadfastly bored. "Let's get that shit out of here."

"You disgust me, Sue," Quinn said through gritted teeth. "What are you going to do with that book, anyway? There's nobody on New Earth who could decipher Old High Gallifreyan or even know where to begin translating it. You wouldn't be able to do anything to it."

Sam could only watch on helplessly, his blood boiling over, as Sue's smirk only grew as she tugged the epigrapher closer, her lips hovering over the other blonde's ear. "That's why you're coming with us."

With a flash of white light, all three women vanished into thin air.

"Shit."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
14.04.2805, 1325hrs (New Earth)

Quinn winced at the uncomfortable push and pull on her body, twisting her insides into tight strings, but then she felt the ground beneath her feet and a wave of nausea hit her like a damn freight train. Wobbling unsteadily as she tried to locate her equilibrium, she took in huge gulps of air to quell the urge to throw up. She blinked a couple of times, hoping to clear her blurring vision.

"If you puke in here, you're cleaning it up," Sue remarked, shoving her down onto a chair before she could regain her stability.

Mercedes advanced on her then with rope in her hands, swinging it like a lasso predatorily and grinning like the cat that had gotten the canary, her boots clicking against the metal grating. A quick glimpse around confirmed that they were indeed on a Void Ship, and Quinn briefly wondered if they were the only ones on it.

"Quinn Fucking Fabray," she purred. "How the mighty have fallen, huh?"

The epigrapher glared hard at her ex-colleague. "Why are you doing this, Mercedes?"

Give up your heart left broken
And let that mistake pass on

"You know something, Quinn," she began, eyes narrowed to slits. "I've had to live in your shadows for so long while you use that pretty ass of yours to climb up the ladder. I've worked my butt off before and that got me absolutely nowhere, and all you had to do was bat those Barbie lashes and you have everything served to you on a platter."

'Cause the love that you lost
Wasn't worth what it cost
And in time you'll be glad it's gone

"That's not true and you know that—"

"You wouldn't know what it feels like to struggle," Mercedes snapped, bringing her nose barely inches away from Quinn's, her hands braced on the arms of the chair as she caged the woman in. "You wouldn't know what it feels like to not be recognized for the work that you've done, all the shit that you had to go through—"

"You're getting it all wrong—"

"Oh, just shut up, Quinn."

A/N: So, there it is! One more part to go; I'm stoked because it's already halfway in the bag; I just need to finish it!

NileyOvergron: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a generous review! I really appreciate it! Well, it's not ending yet, there's still one more chapter! I'm glad that you caught on to that scene in the previous chapter between Brody and Quinn, because that came back to nip them in the butt. It's a bit dramatic now between Sam and Quinn with the addition of the book, as well as Mercedes and Sue meddling in, so it'll definitely be action-packed in the next part before things are resolved, and yes, I can guarantee you the steamy M-rated stuff as well. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!

RJRRAA: Hello there! As usual, you've never failed to constantly leave a review! Thank you so much, and I really appreciate it! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!

FabrevansFTW: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Well, I suppose the previous chapter felt short because of the lack of action, and more of Quinn and the team trying to locate the book and not much of other developments in between, especially since I split them up to carry out separate jobs. Also, I know how you're excited about the M-rated stuff in this update, and I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it'll definitely come through in the last chapter! Hope you've enjoyed this update either way! Cheers!

Guest: Hello there! I'm not sure if you're one person reviewing chapters 1 to 3 together, but I'd like to thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you liked the genre; it's something I've been meaning to write for a while but just didn't have the courage to do it. Apologies for the lack in M-rated stuff in this chapter, but rest assured, it'll definitely be on the next! Cheers!

ficmonsteR: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! First of all, I apologize for the disappointment of delaying the M-rated stuff to the next chapter, but I had to break the updates up because it was getting long. Hope you still liked the chapter either way. Cheers!

Keira: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! Glad you liked it so far. Hope you've enjoyed this update!

Song used: "Roads Untraveled" by Linkin Park