Glee 1. Prologue

**I didn't expect to be writing a new multific so soon, but one of my friends inspired me, so here it is! It's rated T for now, but I'm sure it'll move up to M as the fic progresses.**

**Thank you to my angel Lucy for beta'ing!**

**Enjoy!**

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It's cold, the sky clouded with darkness and the air filled with a tense silence as they all wait on baited breath, waiting for him to show himself. From outside, the house seems empty and lifeless, but they know he's in there, and they know that they have to catch him.

Agent Finn Hudson waits in the wings, hidden from all sight, like a predator waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. His eyes are trained on the house and that alone, as though it's the only thing remaining in the world.

And suddenly. Movement.

"Is that him?" he says through his cell to Lopez, who is watching the street surveillance a block away, "is that the guy?" He tries to get a better view, but the blinds on the window prevent him from doing so, and his frustration builds, "Lopez, tell me!"

"That's him, Taylor Young," she pauses, "we've got sound and visual in the house… he's got the girl with him."

"Then we've got all we need. I can go in?"

Silence.

"_Santana_!" he says, forcing himself to keep his voice down. But that girl is in danger and they're just wasting time.

She finally returns, "Berry says to wait a few more minutes."

"Screw that! He's already killed five girls – I'm not letting him get another. Let me go in." He peers to the window again frantically, where all signs of life have deceased. Finn can't let that girl stay in there any longer, he can't.

"No!" This time the voice is of Berry herself, sounding pissed as ever.

"Hudson, don't you dare go in there. We need to catch him red handed."

Finn growls in annoyance, "catch him when? Until he is standing over her dead body?" Doesn't she understand the urge for speed right now?

"We do things by the book," she says clearly, the authority to her tone.

He isn't listening.

Already having blown cover, he races to the front door, ignoring the incessant yells of Rachel down the cell. As he's got his gun poised, checking his surroundings, he speaks one last time. "Sorry sweetheart, I don't do things by the book." Hanging up the call, he pockets his cell and takes a deep breath, before kicking in the front door.

"FBI!" he shouts, "Taylor Young!" Finn follows the sound of screaming until he nears the living room, finding just what he's looking for. The man, barely past his twenties, holds a knife to her neck, a gun shakily pointed his way.

"I-I'll kill her," he threatens, pressing the knife that little bit further against her already sore skin. She whimpers, eyes pleading toward Finn for him to help.

He keeps a stoic face, his own gun held steadily in his hands, finger poised on the trigger. "You know that there's no way out of this, kid. Killing her or a federal agent is just going to make things worse for you." Cautiously, he takes a step nearer, keeping it slow and calculated, enabling him to get a better shot if needed. "Now, drop your weapons."

The kid's trembling can be seen from where he's stood, so Finn does his best to look the strong one, devoid of any fears, but of course having a gun pointed at you isn't exactly a walk in the park.

"Taylor," he starts slowly, "let go of the gun – "

It all happens so fast. The knife falls to the floor, his hostage – his latest victim – falling along with it, so that he can use both hands on the gun as he shoots. Finn reacts faster, stealthily dodging out of the way of the incoming bullet and letting his own trigger pull. The kid's body drops with a heady thump against the hard wood, while Finn takes a breath of relief.

He's on his feet in an instant, hearing the sound of the rest of his team barging in. Anderson suddenly zooms past him, helping the girl up, while Puckerman is patting his back, "good going, dude. We didn't think he was gonna shoot."

"Yeah, well let's be thankful that I was quicker." His eyes travel down to the body. Still, unmoving. But he's been exposed to so many corpses over the years that it doesn't bother him anymore, and all he does is turn his back and move to leave the house.

Unfortunately for him, not everyone is proud of his heroic actions, although they damn well should be. Berry is standing at the end of the yard, her glare icy and strong, even from so far away. She crosses her arms, and begins a powerful walk his way. Finn may not have been scared with a gun aimed his way, but a furious Rachel Berry makes his heart flip out a little.

Still, he doesn't let her see that.

"_Why_ the hell did you pull that, Hudson?"

"Look, if we would have waited longer, she could have been dead!" he insists to her, watching as her expression doesn't change. He rolls his eyes.

Berry lets out a sigh and then shakes her head, "we didn't have a reason to enter the house. We were waiting to make the arrest legal."

"He had a fucking knife to her throat."

"Only because you kicked the door down!" she grits her teeth, "and now he's dead and can't be interviewed, meaning that we may never find where the other bodies are hidden." Her eyes narrow, the anger clear, "I thought we talked about you being careless?"

"I was doing my job."

"And part of your job is making sure that the families of those victims can get closure, and they're never going to get it now, are they? Not unless there's some evidence in that house that can lead us to the bodies." By now, there are a few people gathered around the heated pair, watching them curiously, though the rest of their team try to ignore it; this is a normal occurrence for Finn and Rachel. They just never can see eye to eye.

He frowns at her, deeply. "We'll find them, take it easy."

Berry gives him an incredulous stare. "Give me your badge," she says, "and your gun."

"What? You can't –"

"You're suspended. Don't think that this is going to be taken lightly, Agent Hudson." Leaning closer, so there are barely inches between them and no one else can hear, she says, "you got lucky today. The outcome could have been serious, and I could have lost you out there – don't _ever_ put me in that situation again." The way that she speaks make him drop his act, staring wide eyed at the amount of care in her voice, something that he's never heard from agent Berry before. Silently, he hands over his badge and gun to the tiny woman, unable to keep his eyes off of her.

She peers up, deep brown eyes holding his, "you have unpaid suspension for two weeks. Maybe that'll give you time to think about how you could have handled this with better care. And when you get back I'm assigning you to a low profile case, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Berry nods, eyes drawing over him briefly, before she turns on her heel and starts in the opposite direction, being stopped to talk to some of the county police.

"Quite a grilling," Puckerman appears by his side, an amused smirk on his face.

"You can say that again," he says, eyes following Berry slowly. "Don't you think that she gets really hot when she's angry?"

Puck smirks, nudging his side, "oh I see. You trying to impress her back there? Being all macho Hudson?"

He lets out a hollow laugh, "sure seemed to work, huh?"

His friend shrugs, "she's textbook. She follows the rules – why do you think she leads the team?"

"And here I was thinking that it was because her Daddy basically runs the FBI."

"…That too."

For a moment, they're distracted as Anderson brings out the girl from the house, who looks as frightened as ever, but Finn knows that with time she can put this whole ordeal behind her, and he takes a small victory from that. He saved a life and nothing, not even Berry's whining about rules and regulations, is going to stop him from being happy over it.

He nods in acknowledgement to Anderson, who gently leads her to the police car, a paramedic walking behind them.

"Anyway," Puck's voice says, "I've got to get home. It's already late and Quinn's gonna be pissed if it's any later."

"Alright man, see you." He pats his back, "you did good today."

"And you did, too. Even if some people don't agree."

Finn laughs, shrugging his shoulders casually, "she's just stubborn. It's nothing new. I think she finds me threatening, and she just doesn't know how to handle it."

Instead of hearing Puckerman speak, Lopez suddenly bursts out laughing, leaving Finn to wonder where the hell she'd come from. "Sure Hudson, _that's_ the reason," she teases, "she knows that there's no way you'll fill her shoes. One, your feet are _huge_, and two, after that stunt you pulled today, you're in dangerous territory."

He sighs, wanting to think that what she's saying isn't true, but maybe his actions weren't exactly the most thought through.

But that's him. He doesn't always go through all the possibilities – he sees an opportunity to say something, do something, and he does it. Because the consequences of not taking that chance could be far worse than if he did.

"You better get yourself home before you cause any more trouble for our esteemed midget leader," she smirks, "or are you not going to listen to what I say and do whatever the hell you want?" she raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow in his direction.

He glares her way, "I did the right thing. I stand by that."

"The right thing for who? That girl, or for you, to make _you_ the hero?"

"I didn't…"

"Yeah, whatever," she sighs, "you really should go home." She begins to saunter away, hips swaying, "have a fun suspension Hudson."

* * *

**Well, thoughts?**

**Not sure when a new chapter will come. But keep an eye open for it!**

**Please review :)**


	2. Back in action

**Hey, sorry it's taken so long to update! I'll hopefully be starting weekly updates for this fic *fingers crossed* so you won't be waiting long again :)**

**Thank you to Lucy for beta'ing :)**

**Enjoy!**

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Finn used to complain to Puck that they never got any time off, that the team always seemed to be overwhelmed with cases, meaning they don't have time for anything else in their lives. And that was true – every few days they'd be whisked off somewhere new, with tunnel vision on their case and nothing more. Any home problems were just that; left for _home_.

But now, he wishes that he could go back to work. The absence of his work is so prominent, that he just doesn't know what to do with himself during his suspension, and it's only been six days.

Each day shouldn't be passing so slowly, so dully, the only thing that he'd looked forward to was the weekend, because that when Annie arrived, and she's the only thing that can cure the monotonous hours that drone on and on.

Still, it's not like she's always there.

And all of his friends are those that he works with, who are all in Illinois on some case right now, where _he_ should be. But no, he had to piss off his boss and screw everything up. Maybe this is a sign that he needs to get some friends outside of the BAU, but then again it could just be another example of how his and Berry's ideas of how things should be done just don't match. Honestly, it's sometimes a wonder how they've even managed a year working together; she can't stand him, and he purposely riles her up, just for the fun of it.

With a sigh, he ends up calling Kurt, his step-brother, in hopes of just doing _something_.

"Finn?" the clearly flustered voice of Kurt comes, and on the other end there's the distant sound of a baby crying. Kurt mumbles something and then, "this isn't exactly the best time."

_Just his luck_. "Oh," he frowns.

"It's just she's been crying for two hours straight and I don't know what to do. I've fed her, changed her, even played her _Celine Dion's greatest hits_, but that only seemed to make it worse. And now I've got the world's biggest headache and she still won't calm down."

"You tried singing to her yourself?" he questions, "I read somewhere that babies like that."

"I know. Blaine and I normally sing together, but with him not being here I haven't wanted to do it by myself. It'll make me miss him too much," he says.

Finn laughs, "then don't get upset when she keeps on crying."

"I'm going to try feeding her again. Hopefully it'll work this time." A sound of gentle clatters follows that, the baby still crying, until suddenly silence appears and he hears Kurt give a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I thought it was going to be a _long_ night." Finn smiles; Kurt and Blaine are completely new to parenting, but you know, they're doing pretty awesome to say that it's their first time. It's like from the minute they saw their baby, they just _knew_ what to do, and they love her unconditionally. "Anyway, what were you calling about?"

Now it's his turn to sigh, "I was just –"

"Bored?" Kurt finished for him. "Blaine said you looked it when he saw you a couple of days ago. Not liking suspension, huh?"

"Kurt, it's practically torture. I just don't like knowing that I could be doing good out there, but instead I'm stuck inside." He groans, the frustration building up just at the thought of it.

"Well, if you're so annoyed about it, why don't you just ask Rachel to end your suspension? Tell her that it won't happen again, basically just grovel."

Finn frowns, "okay I don't know what that means and it sounds totally gross, but this is Rachel Berry, remember? She's stubborn, and there's no way I can just _ask_ her to remove it. She would go all ape shit on me. Do you think I have a death wish?"

"Hmm, sometimes," he replies casually. "But, you know, she might take sympathy on you. Blaine says that she's nice."

He pauses, wondering if it could actually work; Rachel doesn't seem like the type to let things go so easily, but maybe, just maybe she could realize how frustrating this is for him, and want to put him out of his misery. Besides, it's not like he isn't a good team member, one that has come through on many cases, and so she's probably already counting down the hours to his return.

"You know what, Kurt, I may just take your advice."

* * *

It's busy, as usual, so it's actually good cover to move himself around the room and get to Berry's office without anyone else seeing him. He's _this_ desperate to get back on the job, and he hopes that it pays off.

The team only arrived back this morning, Finn waiting for a call from Blaine to tell him when they land, so that he could get there just in time.

Slinking around as much as his height will allow, he comes to a problem when he notices that Rachel isn't in her office, instead standing with Blaine and Artie as they talk, obviously disagreeing with whatever Artie is saying judging by the sour expression on her face. Honestly, the only person who she truly gets along with in the group is Blaine, and that's because he is the one who always agrees with her, and never disobeys an order, loyal little Blaine. Hey, but it's not like Blaine is bad; he just wants to do well at work – he's a people pleaser, has been ever since they met (through the not so wonderful circumstances of Finn accidentally walking in on Blaine in the shower – how was _he_ supposed to know that Kurt had invited his date to stay the night.) and despite that the two quickly became friends, especially when things with Kurt and Blaine blossomed into their true love, or whatever it is they call it.

Just as Rachel's about to walk away from the pair, and he's half way through accelerating that way, he's halted by Lopez, holding a hand to his chest. "Well, look what the cat dragged it." She swirls her tongue slowly, "I thought you weren't supposed to come back for another week? You miss us, Hudson?"

"You wish," he retorts with a roll of his eyes, "what do you want, anyway? I thought you were enjoying my suspension enough without having to mock me about it."

"Hmmm, it wouldn't be half as fun if I couldn't see that sad look on your little potato face."

His face scrunches up, "potato face?" Seriously, Santana and her insults just seem to be getting more and more random. Finn just shakes his head.

"Really though," she begins, "what are you doing here? The munchkin is still pretty pissed at you. She's been in a mood all week, so if you're going to try and dazzle her with your Hudson charm then you've got another thing coming."

"We'll just see about that," he announces, now dead set on getting his suspension cut short, using nothing but his powers of persuasion, and Berry won't know what hit her. Now not bothering with staying out of sight from the others, as to not cause a scene, he heads straight over to her, wondering how he's going to pull this off.

She's the last to see him, her head stuck in one of the case files as she reads it closely, all the while Blaine and Artie are staring at him as if he's doing something completely stupid. Maybe he is. But hey, he's desperate, okay?

Finn clears his throat, causing Rachel to snap her attention his way, her eyes widening quickly when she sees him there. But she's the boss and like, she can't freak out in front of everyone, so she hides it. "Agent Hudson," she begins, cautiously, then asks in disbelief, "what are you doing here?" A little annoyance seeps through her voice.

He stands up that little bit straighter, beginning with, "I'd like to ask that my suspension is removed, and that I return to work." Really, the silence that follows isn't at all reassuring, and then Rachel stares at him, mouth agape. All eyes are on them, awaiting her response, and she seems to know it, too.

"Agent Hudson, please go home," she begins.

"No, I'm not moving until you consider my request."

With the deepest frown he's ever seen on her, she takes a deep breath and then repeats, "go home. You still have a week left until you can return, and I won't hesitate to have you kicked out by security." Her face says it all; she's not even going to let him discuss this with her. This totally and royally _sucks_.

"Agent Berr – "

"This isn't up for discussion," she snaps, "you broke the rules, you deserved that suspension, now go home before I extend it." Her mouth is tight, eyes angry, and he wonders if he's just made it even worse for himself. With a defeated slump of his shoulders, he turns around and makes to leave, ignoring all eyes on him.

So much for his powers of persuasion.

* * *

"So what did she say?" Kurt asks, half amused, as he cradles Matilda in his arms. The four month old stares up at him with Blaine's wide, brown eyes, almost as though smiling at her dad. He smiles back, and then turns his attention to Finn again.

From outside, relentless winds batter the window, rain joining them. But Finn just takes another sip of his coffee, wincing a little at the bitter, and shrugs his shoulders ever so gently. "She didn't really say much – she just had that pissed off look that she gets. You know, when her mouth gets all tight and her eyes super hard…" He trails off, imagining said look in an instant, but a soft, almost fond smile grows in place of a frown.

Kurt tilts his head to the side, "that isn't a good thing, Finn."

"Oh, it is," he responds.

Matilda begins squirming in Kurt's lap, and he peers down to her with a loving gaze. "Your Uncle Finn is being silly, isn't he?"

He sets a look to his brother. "Dude, do you not know what I mean? Don't you like, totally love it when Blaine acts all authoritative and stuff?"

With a blush riding across his cheeks, Kurt clears his throat. I err, don't know what you're talking about." He shakes his head, standing up with haste, "_anyway_, we should get going. I didn't even realize that it'd gone past two. Crap, her sleep is going to be messed up – you know what it's like when you take them out of routine." Finn just nods along dumbly as he rambles on about something he doesn't quite catch. But he does help him get her into the stroller and gather all the bags together. "Come on," Kurt says, "Daddy will be getting back from his night out soon. Let's get back so we can tuck him in bed." And then Kurt's out of the apartment, before he even gets a chance to say much else.

After Kurt leaves, he's left to his own devices. Not a good thing.

But just as he's about to turn the TV on, in hopes of filling the time, there's a knock on the door. Finn perks up, frowning. It can't be Kurt again, because he'd just walk straight in, and anyone else would have to get past the doorman first… He stands, a tight, nervous feeling in his stomach as he nears the door, where more impatient knocks suddenly sound.

As soon as he opens it, he's shocked to see Rachel standing on the other side, her hand suddenly rising to push against his chest, and she moves him forward with surprising strength. Unable to do anything, he walks backwards until she slows, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Look, if this is about what happened toda –"

"You humiliated me!" she's straight to the point, arms folding across her chest stiffly. Her nostrils flare, pupils tiny, angry dots. Once again, he can't help thinking that being pissed totally works for her, and being the one to rile her up like that is almost fun, like a game, although one day he's sure it'll land him in crap with his boss.

He peers down at her, raising an eyebrow, "I thought that being the boss meant that you could handle whatever problems came your way?"

Rachel gives him a look. "Those problems aren't supposed to evolve from _my own team_. What were you pulling there today, Hudson? Are you trying to sabotage my job? Can you not handle having a woman in a higher position than you?"

"Whoa," he frowns, "that's totally not it… okay, maybe I find it a little suspicious how you're so young and you're already a SSA, but it's not because you're a chick or anything."

"I'm an SSA because I work incredibly hard and I give nothing but my all when on a job, and unlike _some_ people I know when to listen to my authoritative figures." Shaking her head in frustration, she walks after him as he steps away.

"You're still pissed about that?"

"I'm not taking this lightly, Finn," she begins, her voice more delicate than he's ever heard before, and she'd called him Finn; that doesn't happen often. It's always a detached Agent Hudson, so he's curious as to why the change. "I don't want you to lose your job. I know how important this is to you." For once, he can't disagree with her – for as long as he can remember being the good guy has always been his dream, helping other people, and the chance to do that, with the added thrill of the action ultimately drove him into the FBI. But that'd taken years of work, years of dedication, and a few sacrifices that he's not proud of, one being his failed marriage.

He looks to Rachel, and he tries not to be bitter as he considers how easy it must have been for her to join. Of course, she's good at her job, but she's always had the right people around her as she's grown up; her Father works for the FBI, too, and surely that's another reason why she became SSA so easily.

Finn sighs, "look babe, I'm not sorry for acting so rash, but I won't do it again, okay?"

Jaw set, she asks, "will you stop with the pet names? I'm your superior, you know."

"Like I could forget," he drawls, "you take every opportunity to remind me, such as this suspension." He sighs out in frustration, still adamant as ever that it was uncalled for. Okay, his actions weren't the best, but to suspend him for two weeks? It's a little much, considering that he's one of the best agents they've got.

Rachel narrows her eyes, "you should be lucky that I don't extend it considering your little stunt today. That was not professional at all, and if you wanted to talk to me about it I have an office, you know, or better still, a phone number."

He smirks, "you want me to call you?"

"Not like that." She says bluntly, "I'm just saying that you could have handled the situation more delicately, rather than making a scene." The expression she's giving him is one of exasperation, the same one that she normally wears when talking to him, for some reason he just pushes all of her wrong buttons, and the two often butt heads.

But for once, he's agreeing with her. "Okay, I'll admit it, I shouldn't have done that, but then again I wouldn't have been compelled to if I hadn't had a mind-numbing week away from the job. Do you know how hard it is doing _nothing_ all day?" Finn groans, hoping that his frustration transcends and she takes pity on him.

Looking to her, he finds no pity on her face, instead it's stoic and stubborn. "It's your own fault, Agent Hudson." Oh great, now they're back to agent Hudson. "And I hope that this serves as an incentive to change your attitude, because I will not hesitate to do it again if needs be, or worse, _fire_ you."

That hits him hard, his face falling quickly. Rachel notices, sympathy slipping into her own expression, and she does something that kind of shocks the hell out him. Reaching forward, she wraps her soft fingers around his arm, the simple touch causing him to freeze, unable to do anything than stare into her suddenly doe like eyes. "You're good," she says, "you know that, and I know that, so don't waste that by letting your attitude get in the way." Then she does something that really shocks him; she _smiles_, a warm and comforting smile, meant for none but him, and he smiles back, he can't help it.

Just as he's about to say something, her cell erupts with noise, and she snatches her hand away from him to retrieve it. "Excuse me," she tells him, taking a few steps back so she can take the call. While she's distracted, he gets himself a beer from the refrigerator, gently sipping at it as Rachel just seems to talk and talk.

Then, he feels a small tug on his pants, eyes following the movement to find Annie by his side, tear tracks on her cheeks. His worried dad mode is turned on immediately, leaning down so that their heights match, with a look of concern on his face. "Hey, what's wrong? Why the tears?"

She rubs at her eyes, sleepily, and then wraps her arms around his neck, squishing her face against his chest. "I had a bad dream," she mumbles, making a small whimper as she curls herself further into him.

"Shh," he gently soothes her, running a hand up and down her back. In one swift movement, he has her held in his arms, "it was only a dream. I'm here now."

"Daddy," Annie whispers, tightening her grip. This isn't uncommon with the girl, and he's used to being woken up at the early hours in the morning by his shaken daughter. But by now he's an expert on calming her down, gently swinging her body back and forth, while humming in her ear. Her body relaxes, muscles becoming less tense, and he smiles, running a hand through her soft, brown curls.

With more hushes and patience, he feels her head dropping as he lulls her back to sleep. Finn smiles down at his daughter; before she'd been born he hadn't known that you could love another human being as much as he does her. He just wishes that he could be there for her more; at the moment the arrangement is that she's with her Mom the majority of time, and with him when he doesn't have any cases. The problem with that is that he's usually always got a case, taking him away for days at a time. And he misses all the important parts of her life, of watching her grow up – he kind of gets angry at himself for that.

Right now he hugs her close to his body, cherishing the time spent with her, even if she's asleep, and he's so focused on that that he doesn't realize Rachel's finished her call, and is now making her way over to him.

She slows, however, when she notices the girl in his arms, her brows swooping down in confusion. He gestures for her to give him a moment, making sure Annie is secure in his arms before he takes her to her own room, arranging her neatly on the bed. With a loving smile, he leans forward and presses a kiss to her hairline, whispering, "I love you angel." Then he gets the soft, pink comforter tucked over her, hoping that her dreams are much nicer this time around.

When he turns, Rachel is stood in the doorway, watching him with a look of curiosity; he has a feeling he knows what's about to come.

Finn is proved correct the moment he has the door closed. "You have a daughter?"

"Yes," he responds simply, picking up his beer again, "is that a problem?"

"I just… I would have thought that you'd tell people something like that," she says.

"There are just some things about our personal lives that we don't need to share with everyone," Finn claims, "we all have them. Lopez, Puck, even _you_. It's no big deal." Her face saddens, only for a moment, yet Finn can tell that his predictions are true, even Rachel Berry has her own secrets. He then adds, "but yes, Annie is my daughter."

"Annie," Rachel suddenly smiles, "like the musical." She then gives a nod, "it's pretty. Did you come up with it?"

And this is totally not the normal type of conversation that occurs between the two of them. She's his boss, and so they've only ever talked at work, about work. Rachel is probably the team member that he knows the least about, too, and he never realized that he wanted to learn more until now. Seeing her, outside of her professional side, is almost alien to him, as though there are two Rachel Berry's. "Yeah," he breathes, nervously tapping at his beer can, "my brother Kurt used to make me watch it as a kid and I dunno, the kid was pretty cool. When she was born, I just… it felt right to call her that." He then grins, "she's a Hudson, so she's gonna be cool."

Rachel laughs, shaking her head gently. "_Sure_." Her gaze then lowers, catching sight of her cell, and she immediately shifts back into work Rachel Berry, all business and no nonsense. "I should go. We've got to fly out to Ohio for a case tomorrow."

His ears perk up, and surely his eyes turn into two big pleading balls.

She quickly realizes what he wants. "Oh no, you're still suspended, for another week. The team will function just fine without you."

"Look, I know what I did as reckless, alright? But don't you think me having to spend a few days on the case with you reminding me of that is a better punishment than being stuck here all day doing nothing?" Rachel's eyes narrow at him, a scoff leaving her lips, but he knows that what he's said has swayed her, even if it's the most miniscule amount – it's something.

"What about Annie?" she poses the question.

"She goes back to her Mom tomorrow."

He's met with her thoughtful expression, hopefully watching as she internally debates. Only, he feels she needs a little push in the right direction, "I'll do everything you say, follow it to the letter. You won't have one problem out of me." Rachel doesn't seem to agree, raising an eyebrow. He rolls his eyes; contrary to popular belief, he has the ability to listen to orders, he just chooses not to most of the time.

"Rachel," he starts, "You said it yourself, I'm a valuable member of the team."

"I didn't say those _exact_ words," she bites back.

Finn continues, "but still, the notion remains the same, and I can help. Please, just let me do what I joined the FBI to do."

He watches as she finally cracks. "You promise that you'll listen to every word that I say?"

"Yes."

"And not to make any rash decisions."

"Not one," he says.

Rachel looks conflicted, but eventually groans, "fine, I'll cut the suspension early, but if you cause one _ounce_ of trouble, I will not hesitate to send to back here immediately, are we understood agent Hudson?"

Relief washes over him, a large, genuine smile gracing his lips. "Yes, yes, thank you Ra – err, ma'am." (It's still weird for him to call someone who is two years younger ma'am.) She nods, standing up straight.

"The plane leaves at eight, be there. I'll have your gun and badge, and then we can start the briefing."

"What is the case?" he quickly asks, "I mean, the basics, just out of curiosity."

Her face becomes more saddened, gaze moving down to her hands. "Three girls have been found dead in Lima, Ohio, between the ages of thirty one and thirty two."

"How did they die?"

"Marley didn't say yet, we'll find out in the morning when we get the case file." She looks to him, gravely, "Try to get a couple hours sleep Finn, you'll need it." She bows her head, "goodnight. I'll – I'll let myself out."

Finn watches as she goes, a mixed feeling settling in his stomach. That's how it always is before a case; there's the lingering worry that what you find will be the worst yet, but at the same time the thrill of it all is what he wants, why he joined this team, and the satisfaction of taking down criminals being another.

* * *

**The real action will start in the next chapter with the case; this was still more build up.**

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	3. Distraction

**It's update day! :) Thanks to everyone for reviewing, favouriting, alterting and just reading this fic!**

**Thank you to Lucy for beta'ing. You literally have the best comments.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He arrives at the plane with literally a couple of minutes to spare, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, while his hand rubs at the tired lines on his face. The couple hours sleep he managed last night did nothing to cure him of exhaustion, and so he sips at a large cup of coffee, knowing that it's the only thing to keep him awake and alert for the briefing, and for Rachel, too. If she sees him falling half asleep on the job, after he'd put so much effort into actually getting on this case, she's sure to be annoyed.

The second he steps inside all eyes are on him; the team because they clearly have no idea that his suspension has been revoked, and it's a surprise to see him there. He looks to Rachel, waiting for her to say something, to explain to the others, but she nods her head once and orders, "sit down, agent Hudson."

Finn takes the only spare seat, beside Blaine and across from Rachel, noting the way in which everyone continues to stare. Rachel clears her throat, "while I'm sure agent Hudson is very interesting, can we please focus on the case?"

A general murmur of agreement sounds, and Marley begins handing out the files, "Sarah Thomson, Danielle Smith and Emma Holland all found murdered within two miles of each other. Cause of death seems to be the same for each girl, trauma to the head from the use of a blunt object." He opens his file, staring at the pictures provided; he never thought that he'd get used to looking at the image of a dead and battered body, but these days it's just part of the job. The skin is ghostly pale, dark splotches of black and purple scattered across the corpse. Marley continues, face grave, "each girl went missing weeks prior to their bodies turning up, and they'd been dead only a few hours when found."

"So he's keeping them for weeks before he kills them," Puck supplies, his forehead creasing in thought, "any sign of torture on the bodies?"

"None," Marley says, "it seems like the only time they were physically hurt was the moment that they were actually murdered, but other than that they'd been in good health before their deaths."

_Good health?_ Finn frowns; he's used to seeing mutilated bodies, starved and broken. "He must have cared for them. Look at the bodies," he gestures to the pictures, "their bodies are clean, no sign of malnutrition; it seems like their deaths are the only time they've been treated badly. Isn't it odd that he would provide this care for weeks?

"While it's rare," Blaine begins, "it does happen. Many kidnappers like to play out fantasies with their victims, and that requires everything to be correct down to every little detail."

"He's playing out fantasies?" Santana pipes in, frowning at the photos herself.

"It's possible. It's been common with stalkers, to take their victim and make them act out his or her desires with that person," he explains, eyes moving around the plane, "there was a similar case in Texas a few years ago – a man forced his neighbor's mom into his home with a gun, and then proceeded to act as though she was his mother, in the end fulfilling his wish for the maternal love that he'd been neglected as a child."

"What happened?" Rachel questions with a raised eyebrow.

"She managed to call the cops before he became too dangerous," Blaine nods, then his face falls, a wry smile on his lips, "looks like our guy has gone past dangerous."

Looking down to the page again, Finn considers the possibilities of a similar case, but he struggles to think of what fantasy they could be playing to the UNSUB. All are women in their early thirties, Caucasian, brown hair, and living in the same area. "Do you think he's choosing the women for specific looks, or it's just a coincidence?"

"Could just have a thing for brunettes," Puck shrugs, with a smirk.

"_Or_ it could be a crucial clue to finding this guy," Rachel narrows her eyes. "Don't rule anything out, Noah."

He holds his hands up in mock defeat, while Santana chuckles under her breath at him. Finn, feeling the tension, decides to keep on talking, rather than joining in, which he'd normally do. He's got to stay on Rachel's good side for once, and he ought to prove just how professional he is. "Judging from the looks and age of these girls," he begins, keeping his eyes drawn to the page, "I'd say he's acting as though they're a spouse; perhaps recreating a family he never had. That would explain how well cared for they are, the clothes they're dressed in."

"But what about the part where they ended up dead?" Santana begins, bluntly as ever.

"Simple," Finn answers, "they didn't fit the bill. He has an idea in his head, and they prove themselves to be different from it, so he acts out, and they die." He looks around the group, who all mull over his words, but it's Rachel who he finds himself slowing his gaze on. She looks, dare he say, _impressed_ with his suggestion. Then she smiles at him again, and _twice_ in a twenty four hour span is literally a record for her, so of course he's thrown off by her actions, but at the same time intrigued.

Just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone, and she peers up to Marley, serious Rachel Berry returning. "What about the dump sites? What can that tell us?"

Finn turns from her, instead noticing that the rest of the group had too seen the exchange, all twisting their head from one to the other with curious glances. Well, this is going to be an interesting few days.

* * *

_He sits at his table, head banging, a great pulsing that shoots pain through his mind. He holds it with strained fingers, eyes clenching closed. She's not right. She's not her. All wrong. Standing to his feet, he hears the floorboards creaking beneath the weight, and then a soft whimpering in front him. He lifts his gaze._

_Huddled into herself, she stares across the table with wide, tear filled eyes, accompanied by terror, also. His frown deepens; she's not her. Angers soars through him, betrayal, and his fists clench and unclench threateningly. Tears spill from her deep brown eyes, rolling down her cheeks quickly. "Please," she whispers. It's unclear what she's asking for, but that doesn't matter to him – she's lied, she's deceived him. And when she's founnd the real one will come. How can she ignore this?_

_The chair scrapes across the floor when it's pulled out, and that makes her cries become even louder. _

_This isn't her; she wouldn't cry._

_One step. Then another. More cries, harder tears._

_"No, stop." She sobs, hanging her head in defeat and exhaustion. He moves closer, the anger burning within. Liar. Fraud._

_"You're not her," he spits out, face contorting with disgust. But she'll come. He'll have her soon._

* * *

"It would be easy to get in here without being noticed," Blaine points out as he looks around the area. The industrial park has an abundance of trucks coming in and out, and all appear similar to the next. "He must have known that a van would go unnoticed here; perhaps he could have worked here at some point."

"Pretty much everyone in this town knows that this is a busy area," the chief offers, eyes scanning the full road, then down to the body before them.

Finn kneels down himself to get a better look, hearing as Blaine does so, too. "No one saw anything suspicious?" he peers up to the officer.

"Not that we know of," he shrugs.

He sighs, feeling like the chief isn't going to offer much help for the investigation, or nothing that Santana and Puck can't find through the files at the station, anyway. He turns his attention back to the body, just as it had been in the picture, only there's something a little more unsettling about seeing the real thing. Maybe it's the thought that hours ago this person was alive, and in such a short span of time everything ended. He shudders

Beside him, Blaine reaches out and brushes his fingers over the pale arms. "What is it?" Finn asks.

"Placing the arms like this," he gestures to them, "is commonly a sign of remorse." His brows then dip thoughtfully.

"So he's _sorry_ for killing her?"

"He could be," Blaine says, then peering nearer the head, "and the area of trauma, it's much more vivid than with the previous two deaths. It's more violent… the hits, they're more randomly placed, like he just started hitting and couldn't stop himself until she was dead."

Finn frowns questioningly. "You mean, he didn't intend to kill the girl?" That doesn't make sense; there are two more bodies and all couldn't be down to manslaughter – that just doesn't happen.

Blaine shakes his head quickly, rejecting the idea. "No, it's clear from where he decided to hit that a kill was his intention, but something just seems odd about it – each kill seems messier than the last."

"You think he's devolving?"

"Potentially." His eyes hover over the battered head of the girl, "or he's becoming increasingly frustrated. Either way, we need to find this guy." The dread in Blaine's tone is something that he's not used to hearing from him, and it sets worry deep inside Finn. There's always a rush to find the UNSUB; it's their _job_. Only, all agents know that nothing should be overlooked, and to do so takes time, the time that Finn can feel running out until the next victim shows up, and if Blaine's predictions are correct then it isn't going to be a pretty sight.

But why would the UNSUB become more frustrated? Can he not find what he's looking for? And why not? All these things need to be considered in order to get into the UNSUB's mind. He stands, too, following Blaine back to where Rachel and Marley are speaking to the officers that accompanied them to the location.

Just as he gets there, his cell starts to ring, interrupting the other conversation. "What's up Artie?" he asks.

"Put me on speaker, Hudson. I've got something important."

He does as he's told, everyone listening in curiously to what their technical analyst has to offer. "Okay, so I went ahead and started running the victim's names through our system so I could have everything ready for when you would inevitably ask, because I'm just awesome like that." Finn grins, the action only getting bigger when Rachel rolls her eyes, "and all of the victim's made complaints of stalking weeks before their abductions. As well as that, each reported a burglary, but with little to nothing important stolen."

"You think it could be connected?" Rachel asks.

"I think the reports should be examined, just to be sure. There might be a cross between any items stolen."

"Sometimes the UNSUB can take something that's a symbol to how they see the relationship. Almost like memorabilia; it helps to keep their fantasies alive and for them to persuade themselves that there is a genuine relationship between them and the victim," Blaine explains, his voice so fast that Finn blinks a couple of times and then tries to rerun it in his mind.

Rachel snatches the phone from his hand quickly, her face completely serious. It's good to know things are back to normal with them, Finn thinks while resisting an eye roll. "Artie, can you look for similar reports within the area, also? It may help us if we can get a step ahead of this guy and find out who his next victim will be."

"Piece of cake," he answers, "give me a couple of hours and I'll have everything you need." With that, he hangs up, Rachel handing Finn's phone back to him.

"Come on," she orders, "let's get back to the station and discuss things with Noah and Santana. If this guy is breaking into their houses, we need to find out what he's taking and why." With one last look toward the crime scene, he follows after the others, finding himself on Rachel's tail. He watches as Blaine and Marley walk with the officers, Blaine wanting to question them further about the burglary reports, which means that he's left with Rachel. Just the two of them, in a close, confined space.

"Looks like it's just you and me," he drawls, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Rachel jumps a little at the sudden sound of his voice, turning to glare at him. "Get in the car, Finn," her tone is exasperated, and he quickly obeys. Glancing to her, he notices the slight bags under the eyes, her tired face. Had she been like that on the plane? Or in the station? He hadn't noticed. The car starts, Rachel keeping her gaze straight ahead, an emotionless gaze that leaves him wondering, filling in the missing pieces.

Eventually, he can't hold it in any longer. "You okay?" he asks her, surprising himself with the care to his own voice.

She doesn't say anything, her eyes glued to the horizon before them. Finn draws in a breath, and then observes her with a frown. "Rachel?" Again, nothing, and that is not typical Rachel Berry. She's always the most alert, ready to tackle anything; right now it's almost as though she's in a _trance_. Her deep brown eyes widen with her thoughts, leading him to again wonder what it is holding her attention for so long.

He's kind of glad that she's not driving right now 'cause, like this, she's sure to get someone hurt. Finn tries again, "Rachel." This time his voice is louder, more clear, and his right hand slowly moves from the steering wheel to reach out and brush against her arm. He doesn't know what he expects, but he certainly doesn't expect her to _flinch_. Her head snaps his way, like a deer caught in the headlights, before she realizes that it's just him, and her expression softens, as does the tightness of her muscles.

"What did you do that for?" she snaps.

"I didn't do anything."

"I was trying to think and you interrupted me, at the same time trying to scare me half to death," Rachel insists, sounding a little flustered. Is this really the same Rachel Berry who suspended him the other week?

"Rach," he begins with a shake of his head, "I touched your arm. I didn't realize that it was dangerous to do that."

She frowns, clearly annoyed. "Well don't do it again."

"I didn't do anything," he grumbles, earning a glare from her, but then when she turns away he sees the way her expression falls, worry setting in. It makes Finn worry himself; what exactly was she thinking about? This isn't exactly the easiest job. Constantly surrounded by death and cruel intentions, it really is enough to spook some people, and he's known a lot of friends to quit before they've really began, letting it all get to them, but he'd never think Rachel one of those people. She is, above all, professional, but right now the Rachel he's seeing is acting different, and all his instincts are screaming that something is up with her.

But how is he supposed to approach a situation like this? Rachel has made it clear on many accounts that they're not friends; they're merely colleagues, yet it'd make him a pretty awful colleague if he ignored this, right? When Blaine had problems after a case (in which the UNSUB had taken him hostage) they'd all been there for him, through the trauma and nightmares, and so the same thing should happen here. Rachel deserves the same help and, in all honesty, this team wouldn't function half as well as it does without her leadership. If she's preoccupied with another problem, who knows what could happen. So, thinking on behalf of the team, he takes a deep breath and asks, "everything okay? I mean, you looked pretty scared for a moment there."

"I wasn't scared," Rachel insists, stubbornly so. Her hands move across her chest defensively, jaw setting.

"Rach," he begins, in an almost condescending tone, leading Rachel to scowl.

"It's _agent Berry_, and I'd like you to address me as su –"

"Whatever," he waves that away, "I'm just concerned about you, okay?

She mocks a smile. "_Me_? Wow, I'm so lucky to have Finn Hudson concerned about me." Rachel then rolls her eyes, sending her gaze in another direction and promptly ignoring him. It gives Finn all he needs to determine that there's something bothering her – he profiles for a living; he knows when someone is lying, or avoiding the truth, and Rachel is doing both.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" he hears himself groan.

"I'm not being stubborn – I just think that we should keep to our own business." She begins, "what did you say? We all have secrets? _There are some things about our personal lives that we don't need to share with anyone."_Finn knows that he's managed to piss her off by the tone of her voice, and the tense set in his jaw, but then again it seems like he manages to do that without even trying. At least this time he had been genuinely attempting to do some good, even if oh so proud Miss Rachel Berry is completely disregarding that.

"I'm only trying to help," he says.

"I don't _need_ help. It's nothing."

"Bu – "

Rachel looks to him again, annoyance prominent across her features. "_Nothing_, agent Hudson. Now can you please let it go?"

"no."

"_God_," she growls, "you're so… so… _annoying_."

"It's called persistence, sweetheart."

If looks could kill.

"Perhaps you should retain your persistence for the case at hand, rather than trying to profile each other." She gives him a stern 'don't mess with me' look, and he resists the smirk, completely aware that he's on thin ice right now.

* * *

Everyone can sense the tension between the pair from the moment they step into the building, and Finn ignores when Blaine sends him a questioning look; he doesn't need anyone else to get involved in this.

"What've you done now, Hudson?" Santana asks, half amused, as Rachel storms past them and heads over to talk to Marley about whether they're going to do a press release.

He sets a look on her, sighing, "I think it's got to the point where my existence irritates her."

"Hmm, I see where she's coming from," the woman smirks, more so when he sends a glare her way. "Anyway, we've all been wondering how you managed to wean your way back onto her good side, seeing as right now she's the angriest midget I've ever seen." Finn sighs, beginning to walk Puck's way, but with Santana still following him, "did you sleep with her or something? Is that why she's so pissed?"

"No," he hisses quickly, "I did not sleep with her."

"Hey, don't get so offended. It's not like you haven't thought about it," she snaps, hand falling on her hip as she glares knowingly at him. Finn shies under the glare, confirming her suspicions, "oh God, that's totally gross. I mean, I'm sure under those librarian clothes she's got a great body, but her voice grates on me after a couple of seconds."

Finn shakes his head, "her voice isn't that bad, and for the record, she's got a super-hot body under those librarian clothes."

"And how would you know?"

He becomes decisively more tight lipped now.

"_Oh_," she nods, grinning, "you've been having a few sneak peeks, huh?"

"You know, we're supposed to be focusing on a case," he reminds her, which just makes the woman laugh. He kind of feels like he's telling himself that, too, especially when his gaze carries through to the office where Rachel is, but he then shakes his head and looks down to the work at hand. They'll be visiting the victim's houses, to search for any further evidence, and while he's prepared to do his best, he can't help but feel distracted.

He's so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't hear Blaine come up behind him, only realizing that he's there when Blaine says, "Santana teasing you about Rachel again?"

"Wha – oh, yeah, she does it all the time, it's nothing new."

"Yup," he agrees, "she does it to me and Kurt, too. "

"That's different though, you and Kurt are married and stuff, and like, actually like each other."

Blaine's thick eyebrows bush together, his lips tightening into a straight line. He then asks, "you don't like Rachel?"

Now it's Finn's turn to look confused. "You think I like her… like _that_? 'Cause that's totally crazy. _She's_ crazy and, you know, we're totally different."

"It's just Kurt said…" he trails off, eyes narrowing with thought, yet he soon shakes his head, "never mind. I must have… misheard him." He frowns, but doesn't bother to reply to Blaine, opting to read over the case again, and to make sure he's got every little detail down. Sometimes he wishes that, like Blaine, he could have an eidetic memory, but then again he doesn't think he'd want to be super smart like that.

He's snapped from his thoughts when Puck slaps him on the shoulder and announces, "you're coming with me and Satan, come on." _Great_, he thinks; being with those two is going to _fun_.

Raising his gaze, he sees Rachel getting ready to go with Blaine, and he wonders whether she purposely opted for him to go with these two, just so she can avoid him for a couple of hours.

* * *

**For anyone wondering, UNSUB means unknown subject, and it's basically what they call the criminal that they're trying to find **

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	4. New discoveries

**Sorry that this is so late! Between being ill and a couple of exams I've just felt exhausted lately!**

**Thank you to my wonderful Lucy for beta'ing :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Well, I haven't found anything," Santana says as she steps into the room from the kitchen. "The girls did go missing from their own homes, right? Because there's no evidence to suggest a struggle occurred at all." She frowns in thought, stepping behind Puck, who himself is shaking his head.

"There's nothing, man."

Finn sighs from his own spot; he hates to admit it, but he hasn't found anything either. Still, he keeps searching, maybe more in stubbornness than actually feeling he'll find some crucial evidence. Standing straight, he feels himself glancing around again; eyes focused, but he finds nothing. "If only Blaine was here."

"Yeah, the hobbit has some weird super human eyesight – he notices everything," Santana agrees, "too bad Berry had to drag him away since he's the only person that can stand being with her for more than a few hours."

"Come on," he's saying before even realizing, "she's not that bad."

Puck and Santana share a sly look, eyebrows rising in match. All he does is roll his eyes and continues to look around, hoping to ignore the way their stares burn into the back of his neck, and also the hushed whispers following.

The house just looks like any other house; neat, tidy, while full of pictures, displaying the happy life of Emma Holland, and then the image of her cold, pale and life_less_ body flashes into his mind. His whole body shudders, before shaking his head in hopes of focusing on the task at hand.

Suddenly his eyes are drawn to the farthest wall, near a shelf mainly for photos and a few ornaments, but he's not looking at those. He strides nearer, tunnel vision activated, where he sees the dark square shape against the mustard yellow of the walls. "Guys," he summons them closer, not letting his gaze veer away, "something's been taken from here." He holds up his gloved hand, brushing it over the lines where light turns to darkness, "it looks like it's recently been taken down." Then his fingertips hover over the small indents in the wall. "It was nailed in."

"You think our guy could've done it," Puck ponders, his words lingering in the air.

"He could have installed cameras in the homes," Santana says, "that way he can keep a close eye on the victims safely from his own; stalkers do it a lot."

Finn purses his lips together in thought, "go and see if you can find any more."

After fifteen more minutes of searching, they find four similar areas to the first, and then Santana finds exactly what they're looking for. "Guess he was leaving in a rush, huh?" She holds out the small camera for them to see, barely the size of her palm. "Found this one in the bedroom, you don't think…" Her voice trails off, but her eyebrow rises in suggestion.

Instantly, he shakes his head, "no, nothing like that. There was no evidence of sexual assault on the victims, remember?"

"I just thought it could be a possibility," she shrugs, a little annoyed at her idea being discarded so easily, "'cause even if this guy is delusional, he's still a guy and he thinks that they're his girlfriends – it just seems obvious to me that he'd try _something _with them. Doesn't it strike you as odd that he hasn't?"

They pause to consider that, before his cell starts ringing, "it's Marley, let me just tell her what we found and then we can meet up with everyone else in a couple of hours." Finn begins to walk away, suddenly spinning on his heel, "also get that sent to Artie and see if he can identify it and where the UNSUB got it from. Maybe it'll help us find this guy."

* * *

She's relieved to have Finn away, if only for a couple of hours. As she's always known, he's good at his job, and he picked up on her strange behavior in an instant, which means she needs to be more careful, especially around him.

"So I thought Finn was suspended for another week?" Blaine's voice breaks through the silence, snapping her back into reality. Blaine's driving, now peering back to her every few seconds with a curious expression, and she tries to think of the reason herself. It feels fruitless to tell herself that it was, like Finn had said, a bigger punishment for him to spend time with her watching over him like a hawk, because that's not why she let him back early. Truth be told, she isn't quite sure why she did; just seeing him pleading made her sympathize with the man in ways she never thought she would.

Finn Hudson is the type of person that usually irks her to no end – impulsive, spontaneous, _dangerous_. Not just for the team, but for any hostages; his quick actions could one day lead to an unnecessary death, and she doesn't want that in her team. Still, saying that, he has redeeming qualities. First and foremost being his passion for the job. He's extremely dedicated to each and every case; she's never seen his attention taken away from one before, which is even more surprising upon discovering he has a daughter; the only other agents on their team with children are Noah and Blaine, both of which have taken time off for said children in the past. Her face scrunches up in thought; she's always thought that she had Finn Hudson figured out, but apparently not.

Once again, Blaine calls out to her, and she blinks, before shrugging, "perhaps I was being a little harsh in making the suspension two weeks. Finn obviously learned his lesson."

He nods, a little hesitantly. "So is that what you were talking about when you went to Finn's apartment?" The question is asked innocently enough – when isn't it from Blaine? – but it still draws a small gasp from her.

"How did you know that I went to his apartment?" she demands her know, her tone of authority returning. She doesn't use it much, not on Blaine anyway, but it's a quick fire way to get what she wants.

"Kurt was there, he was leaving as you came in and he mentioned it when he got home."

"Your husband?"

"Yeah, he's Finn's brother, too. He didn't know who you were, but when he described you I assumed that it was you; after Finn came to the office unannounced like that I knew that there'd be backlash." He gives a wry smile, "you don't like being shown up, not in front of everyone else, and _especially_ not by Finn Hudson." His face then becomes softer, more of a tease. When her brows sink into a glare, all Blaine does is wink her way, his expression suggesting something that is absolutely preposterous. She shakes her head, knowing that it is just that – Blaine doesn't need to say anything, but she's aware of exactly what he's getting at, that there's something going on between Finn and her. Is he crazy? She and Finn are polar opposites, two sides of the coin, and she's his _boss_, his superior. Not to mention that he seems to do things only to spite her. While it drives her insane, she's also aware that Finn's an integral member of their team, and she hates to admit it but she felt his absence in the last case. Blaine continues, his smile growing, "I know that you're trying to talk yourself out of this, but hey, when have I ever been wrong?"

"You're wrong… _sometimes_," she hesitates, failing to think of the last time Blaine had been wrong.

He gives a smug look, "I think you've got a soft spot for him, even if do your absolute best to hide it from everyone."

Rachel scoffs, and then rolls her eyes. He's being ridiculous, not only that but completely meddlesome. "Are you forgetting that I'm your superior?" she dares him to go further, setting her signature glare on Blaine, but all in all he appears underwhelmed.

"Nope," he replies with a small shrug, "but if you got rid of me you'd have to deal with Santana, Puck and Artie all by yourself, and don't forget Finn." He winks again, this time more obvious.

"Will you _stop_?" she snaps.

He does, for a little while. Honestly, she never put Blaine down as the type to probe in everyone else's business (that's much more like Santana, or maybe Noah) so it's strange to see him acting like this. Usually he's the one that she can rely on the most, but apparently not this time. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head lightly, "Kurt used to play hard to get, too. And now look at us, we're married, with a beautiful daughter, and I don't mean to brag but he's _very_ talented with his to –"

"_Blaine_!" she closes her eyes, "I do not need to know about what you and your husband get up to in your spare time. It's great that you've found someone who loves you for you, but you can spare me the details." They're supposed to be doing a job; how did they manage to stray so far from the task at hand? It was only with the mention of Finn that things went off subject, and now she's trying to hide the slight blush to her cheeks. Really, it's a surprise to see Blaine so open about a relationship, though she knows that he hasn't dated many people in his life. Apparently most find his intelligence off putting, while Kurt likes it so much that he supposedly makes Blaine just spout out statistics to him, which if you ask her is pretty strange. Still, each to their own.

Beside her, Blaine laughs, adopting his careless, relaxed persona as he talks of Kurt. As per usual. "You never want to talk about Kurt," he pouts.

She raises her eyebrow, "only because you turn into this big puddle of mush every time he's mentioned."

"What? And you've never had a guy that's done that for you?" he defends himself.

"As a matter of fact, _no_. I'm not a big dater anyway." Even when she got to the age where most girls are interested in boys, she never found herself that bothered about having a boyfriend, and she's only had a handful during her lifetime, most of which fizzled out after only a few weeks. If she thinks about it, she's never been in a truly serious relationship with… well, _anyone_. It doesn't hinder her in any way, but she supposes that sometimes she wonders what it's like to be so close to another person, to find _the one._

Small chuckles, though they could be described as giggles, erupt from Blaine, and he peers her way briefly, shaking his head. "What?"

"Oh, it's just something Santana said. You wouldn't want to hear it anyway, just a joke."

For a moment, she feels insecurities slipping in. Whenever Santana says something "funny" it's usually at another person's expense, and more than often that person is her. It's fine, normally; it's not like she doesn't just keep her head held high and ignore the comments – after all, she is the leader, and she can't let silly things like that affect her or, more importantly, she can't let anyone _see_ them affecting her. Everyone on the team looks to her for guidance and for reassurance, so it's a priority that she remains as professional as she possibly can, and if that means ignoring the jibes of her colleagues, then so be it.

She nods, and lets silence for over them, while a strange mood falls upon her, something which doesn't go unnoticed by Blaine. He casts a glance her way, head tilting in confusion. Rachel gives out her own soft sigh, hoping to disguise it as growing tiresome. Whatever he thinks, he doesn't say anything else and focuses on the road ahead.

* * *

"So, he's getting into their homes to plant the cameras – that means he's confident, easy to get along with, and he appears trustworthy to these women," Santana starts off when they all regroup at the hotel.

"Or," Rachel provides, "he waits until they're not home. Then he sneaks inside and puts them where he wants them. No need to rush, no threat of getting caught." She drops down onto her seat, gaze moving around the others. They appear to be weighing up both options.

Blaine is the first to respond. "Well, we have to consider what we already know about him. He dumped the bodies in busy places, knowing that there's always the risk of being caught, so he's no stranger to that."

"But he wanted those bodies to be found," Finn adds, "why else put them there? And the operation of getting rid of the bodies and sneaking the cameras into the girls' homes are completely different. What if one of the girls had realized? I just get the feeling that this guy isn't as confident as Santana thinks. No one noticed him in the industrial park; this is the type of person that just blends into the background. He can't charm the women, he doesn't know how to, but he can get into their homes, learn their schedules. He's meticulous, he patient, and he's sure as hell not going to let us get ahead of him."

"That's what I don't understand though." All heads turn to Puck, his face scrunched up in thought, "he made it so the bodies were discovered within hours of leaving them there, while in everything else he's been sure to keep hidden… you think he's playing a game with us? Trying to taunt us? You know, in a 'you can't catch me kind of way'."

Beside him, Blaine shakes his head, "usually in those cases the UNSUB will contact the police, or a person with the authority or the power to get the information out. They get satisfaction from watching the almost humiliation of the police from not being able to find him."

"And we've seen nothing," Rachel adds with a firm nod, "he isn't trying to prove anything to us; he doesn't have any vendettas against the police, nor does he want to make anyone pay. We're already established that he might be delusional."

"Delusional yet so careful in his actions?" Santana frowns, unbelieving, "aren't the delusional ones normally unorganized crime?"

"We have both organized and unorganized," Blaine says, "the stalking shows his planning side, the weeks spent waiting and watching, and in this time he could have had another girl in his home. Orgazined; controlling that and remaining hidden from his victim would require time and effort, while we see the actual murders, which appear to be derived from nothing more than a fit of rage. _That's_ unorganized."

"So what? He's got multiple personalities?"

"Possibly," he purses his lips, "it would make a lot of sense, and anyway, it's this type of behavior that people would recognize, those close to him. Family members, work colleagues. If we can figure out what type of work he's in, then we can get Artie to do a search of the area and narrow down the list."

"He's good with technology – maybe he works for an IT company?"

"We can't be sure yet," Rachel says, "let's just stick to what we know to get together a profile for this guy." She's quickly on her feet, moving over to talk to Marley, while Finn watches from the corner of his eye. When they got back Blaine had muttered something to him about Rachel acting slightly more on edge than usual, and while she's normally tight strung, something is off about it this time. Finn stands too, slowly meeting them on the other side of the room just in time to catch the end of the what she's announcing, "… and I don't think doing a press release is a good idea, so for now we'll hold back on that."

"We're not going to do a press release?" the chief steps in, eyes confused, at the same time making it clear that he doesn't agree with it. "There's a killer on the loose; don't we need to warn people?"

Finn intervenes, his voice startling the conversation, "if we go ahead and release a press statement, the UNSUB may catch wind and get scared. We've already established that he isn't in this for the recognition or a "game" so there's no point in trying to reach out to him. If he feels like we're on to him, he could panic and hurt more people than he already has. For now, we keep our presence here as low as possible." Looking down, he finds Rachel peering up to him, her expression hinting at pride, before it suddenly disappears; face hardening when the chief mutters something about how they know that's the best course of action.

"Because, sir," he bites, "this is our job. And we know how to do it." He feels Rachel's gaze burning his cheek, but that does nothing to stop the words from falling out of his mouth, "now I suggest that you do your job and get your officers ready for the profile while we do what you asked us to do."

Clearly taken aback, the man stares, and then gives an obedient nod. Finn can hardly enjoy that as he's being dragged in the other direction by a small hand, which he soon realizes belongs to Rachel. She stops when they get outside the room, in a small corridor occupied by none by themselves, and her eyes narrow dangerously in his direction. "What was that?" she hisses, looking like she's seriously resisting the urge to smack him. The tiny space around them seems to suddenly become even narrower, bringing them closer together, while her eyes bore into him.

"What?" he asks, not as concerned as she is. "I just hate it when they act like we're the ones doing things wrong when they called us in. They brought us here; why can't they let us do our job, _our_ way?"

"Finn," she sighs loudly, dropping her head into her hands, "I know that it can be frustrating, and I know that they're not the easiest people to work with, but we have to work with them, so I expect you to refrain from being so rude next time, okay?" Rachel then averts her gaze. She stares to the floor, statue like as she mumbles, "besides, it's just like you and me. We put up with each other, don't we? You can manage this for the rest of the case."

"Yeah, I guess. But…" Finn shrugs lightly, "like, you have redeeming qualities and stuff. You can be cool and you're really h -" He cuts himself short; telling her that she's hot is something that he finds most women like, but not Rachel Berry. She's not that type of girl.

She blinks, the comment catching her off guard. "What? What were you going to say?"

Now it's his turn to be the surprised one. Rachel is normally so poised, so ready for anything, and he's never seen her like this before. "I didn't say it 'cause you'd just get annoyed with me. I'm saving myself a headache."

"I only get annoyed with you when you're being frustrating. Believe me, if you had to deal with someone like…like _you_ all the time, and Santana and Noah, and then to have your boss constantly on your back about things, you'd get easily irritated, too. If anything happens with this team, then it all falls on _me_, all the blame, all the accusations. I'm the one who's put under scrutiny," she frowns, eyes glued to his, "you don't understand, Finn. I have to be _perfect_, and I don't have any second chances, so when you do things just to annoy me, like intentionally defy my orders, or snap at the man that we're sharing the case with, it makes me want to bang my head against a wall because it's not just yourself that you're showing up, it's _me_." She stops, finally taking a breath and staring toward him. Finn can hardly believe his eyes; Rachel Berry stood before him, looking so…vulnerable, and not at all intimidating. It makes him feel the urge to reach out and hold her, almost as if keeping her in a protective hold, despite knowing that she can most definitely protect herself.

She steps back from him, her stony façade returning. She hadn't meant to let all of those things slip out, but somehow she lost control of her voice and it just kept going on and on. "I'm sorry," Rachel shakes her head furiously, "forget that I said that."

"Rachel," he starts.

"It's not important. I just – I should keep that to myself. I don't need to burden anyone else with –"

"Hey," Finn begins softly, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, "we're all still a team, you know, and believe it or not, I only want to annoy you half of the time. The other half is probably by accident." Despite his gentle voice and growing smile, Rachel remains tense in place, frowning to herself.

"I don't want to talk about it," she insists, shrugging his hand off of her.

"Well, that's alright. I'm a profiler. I can just tell things by the way you're acting now, and all that. You don't really need to speak," he smirks. Rachel sends a look his way, folding her arms defensively across her chest, while he raises his eyebrow slightly, almost in challenge.

"We're not supposed to profile each other," Rachel begins, childlike in tone.

He chuckles, "when have I ever followed the rules?"

Surprisingly, she smiles now, smiling at him (seriously, she's got to stop that; he's not used to it) and he finds himself smiling back. That is, until the door to the office beside them opens, a breathless Marley appearing. She takes in the sight of both of them together, her brows swooping down in confusion, before she realizes the urgency of the situation. "Rachel," she begins, "another body has been discovered. But this time it's different."

* * *

**Well, I wonder what's different about this one ;) ****Any got any ideas as to what's happening yet? :P**

**Please review :)**


	5. Realizations

**So this hasn't been updated in forever and it took me getting sick and having a criminal minds marathon to finally get inspiration for it. Sorry for the huge wait. Seriously. I suck at updating fics.**

**This chapter is unbeta'd as my beta is on holiday, but hey, I couldn't leave you waiting any longer!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I don't get it it," Puck starts, from where he stands between Santana and Blaine at the dump site, shaking his head in disbelief. "A child. Why would he kill a child?" He looks upon the body sadly, the loss of the seven year old making his chest clench tightly. It makes him sick, that people could even consider hurting a child, his mind wandering to his own children, thankfully safe at home.

Lifting his gaze to meet Finn's, he can tell that he's thinking the same thing. No one answers, the pieces of the puzzle becoming more scattered than ever. Even Rachel seems to be rendered silent, and she's usually the one with something always ready to say. Marley steps up, having just spoken to Artie on the phone. "With think that we've got a match," she says, "Riley James. She was taken from her home in Columbus yesterday."

"Yesterday? Our UNSUB keeps them for weeks before he kills them," Santana comments, "what if it's a different guy?"

"No," Blaine replies, "it's the same dump site, the same position of the body." He sighs, sadness filling his voice at such an awful sight, "and it appears to be the same cause of death... That'll be confirmed in the autopsy, but for now, I'm pretty sure we're dealing with the UNSUB still." His thick eyebrows scrunch together, "but why the change of victimology?"

"He could be trying to throw us off the scent," Puck suggests.

One of the coroners returns to them, a sealed bag in his hand. "This was found in the victim's mouth," he says, gesturing to the small, folded note inside. They all share a glance of confusion and curiosity; he's never left a note before.

"Let's get back to the station to read it, and see if it helps us identify this guy," Blaine proposes, taking hold of the bag, before he adds to Marley, "is there anything else we know about the victim yet? And can we get her parents in to ask them if they noticed anything suspicious before she was taken."

The brunette's face becomes grave, "we can't bring the parents in."

"And why not?"

"Because they were murdered on the same night that she was taken." She peers around at the series of reaction, all spanning on a spectrum of thoughtfulness and confusion. "From what I've heard, they had their throats cut; they were found in bed at their home. That's when Riley was announced missing."

Santana's forehead creases together. "Our UNSUB doesn't kill like that. Each of his victim's died of blunt trauma to the head, remember?" She waits for confirmation from the others, convinced that this murderer must be another one. But the last thing they need is _two_ serial killers on the loose.

Puck is quick to explain, "he kills his victim from fits of rage..." The man peers down toward the body once more, wishing he hadn't as the image burns in his mind. "This was completely intentional. He wanted to kill her parents, and he wanted to kill this girl. Look, even though the cause of the death is the same, this is one, calculated hit. He aimed to kill, and he did." He lifts his gaze regretfully from the body.

Head spinning with thought, Finn tries to make sense of what they've been given, "so he's trying to distract us with another body, but why a child? That doesn't fit the idea that he's living a delusion, and he barely kept her for a day. I doubt he even took her to his home before he killed her." He turns to Rachel, who still stares down as though entranced by the body, and he waits for her to say something - they all do. By now, she's normally unable to stop herself from talking. Instead, she draws in a deep breath, a sigh following, and she takes her time, despite knowing that everyone is waiting on her.

Then, she speaks, almost _reluctantly._ "Tell Artie to run the case through the system and check for any similar kidnappings." Without another word, she steps backwards, spinning on her heel to then join the officers at their car. He can tell just by the way she walks, slow and sombre, that she's not herself today – she hasn't been for the past few days.

"Well, that was weird," Santana pulls a face, "what's buggin' her?"

"I'm worried," Blaine admits, "I've never seen her like this before." He pauses, thinking, "you don't think that the job is getting to her, do you?" It's not uncommon for an agent to be overwhelmed with the work. Being constantly surrounded by all the evils in the world is enough to mess with anyone's mind, but Rachel is experienced, and she's never mentioned anything about it before, not even to Blaine.

Finn feels his concern growing too – everyone else on the team has a person that they can fall back on, that they can confess their worries and fears to, but as far as he knows Rachel doesn't have that. He's never heard her talk of friends outside or work; she doesn't have any siblings, and she's not dating anyone either. She's just... she's alone, and whatever is going on with her must be growing in size as it remains pent up inside the woman.

He almost goes after Rachel, who is now climbing into the car with the sheriff, but he has a job to do, and he has to stay focused, to lead the time while Rachel seems to be struggling. "Alright," he cuts over the discussion of Rachel, "Puck and Santana, you two start working on the latest victim – check if the family filed any complaints in the weeks prior to the murder and kidnap, someone get Rachel's message on to Artie, and Blaine and I will check out the note and we'll take it from there." He pats Blaine on the back, resisting the urge to chuckle as the unexpected man stumbles forward slightly, "come on, let's go."

With one last look downwards, he then follows Blaine toward the SUV, unable to keep thoughts of his own daughter from his mind.

* * *

An hour into trying to decipher what the note means, he excuses himself from the small, windowless room to go outside. He breathes in the fresh air, stretching his long legs with a little pacing. Then, he takes out his cell, dialling Quinn's number from memory.

His heart beats with a loud, steady thump as he waits. "Hello?"

"Hey Quinn, it's me."

"I thought you were on a case?" she asks, sounding confused. It's understandable really, as he almost never calls when he's working. Only ever to deliver bad news, or that's how it used to be when they were married.

Finn leans against the wall, folding his arm across he chest, "I am. I just, ah, I wanted to talk to Annie. Where is she?"

"She's having a snack." She replies, before questioning, "why do you want to talk to her? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not," he assures the woman, "I just wanted to hear her voice. I miss her." That's true; it always will be, yet at the same time he can't deny that the latest death really hit him on a personal level, Finn needing to remind his daughter how special she is to him.

There's some fumbling on the other end, before the sound of a sweet voice brings a grin to his face. "Hi daddy."

"Hey baby, how are you? Are you being a good girl for mommy?"

"I'm _always_ a good girl," she retorts, as a matter of fact, causing Finn to laugh to himself. She then adds, "I wrote a story about you. I read it out to my whole class today!"

Finn feels pride swell in his heart, his smile irreplaceable, "really?"

"Uh huh, I told them that you catch bad guys and you have your own jet that takes you _anywhere_ you want." This is what he loves about kids; they make things seem cooler than they are. His job isn't exactly the easiest going out there, and there are long, gruelling hours, wrapped up with horrific images, but Annie is making it seem as though it's the best job in the world.

He laughs to himself. "Well, it's not exactly _my_ jet, sweetie, but it does take me to a lot of places."

"Can I come in the jet?"

"I don't think you'd want to come to work with daddy," he says quietly, "you wouldn't like it."

"I might!" she tries, but she has no idea of what he deals with at work, and he'd rather keep it that way.

With that, he quickly changes the subject, "I miss you." He always misses her.

"When are you coming home?" she asks eagerly

Finn tries to contain the sigh, but it comes out anyway. "Soon, baby." He can't say exactly how long he'll be; you never know with each unique case, "but hey, when I get back, how about we go bowling, huh? You love bowling."

"Alright," she agrees, "but hurry back, okay?"

"I'll try my best. Now put your mom on, but before you go, know that I love. Lots and lots. More than _anything_ in this world." He hates to cut the call short, but he does have a job to do, despite how much he'd happily talk to Annie for the rest of the night.

She giggles, "I love you too, daddy."

Once they've said their proper goodbyes, he gives a quick brief to Quinn about when he'll most probably be back, feeling much better as he finishes the call. While he loves his job, he wonders what it'd be like to have the normal 9 to 5 day job, where he'd get to see his daughter every night and not every few days between cases.

Finn steps back inside the dark police station, pocketing his cell. He's about to join Blaine, when he spots Rachel in the opposite room. Her body is slumped over the desk as she stares at the case files spread out over the desk, and the pictures mapped all over the board. "So this is where you're hiding," he begins, closing the door behind him quietly and advancing.

Her gaze lifts, no amount of surprise in those dark eyes. Finn leans his body on the side of the desk, waiting for a response. She drops her hands to her lap, then says, "what do you want, Hudson?"

The cold nature of her voice shocks him. For a moment, he is taken aback, before he says, "I just wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine."

"Hmm, so that means that you're _not_ okay," he folds his arm slowly.

Rachel's gaze doesn't falter. A soft laugh escapes his lips, "come on, I was married for three years. I also have a daughter. I don't need to be a profiler to decipher _that_."

"So there's something bothering me," she shrugs, "I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

"I don't doubt that, but since when has there been anything wrong with talking out your problems?" She doesn't reply. "You shot out of there pretty quickly before." He says, referring to their conversation at the dump site. "I – _we_ were worried." His voice takes on a stutter, something that both bewilders and shocks Finn. He's always been so suave when talking to women.

She pauses, only for a moment, and he sees the small glimmer of resignation in her expression, which is quickly clouded with a stubborn need to hide her problems. "It's none of your business, Agent Hudson."

"Rachel, you look worried. Almost... almost _scared_." His brows crease together, age lines crinkling against his forehead.

A frightening glare is aimed his way. "May I remind you that we are here to solve a case, not to begin a new one." Her lips purse tightly together as she stands, before she adds another picture to the board, placing the pin in with a forceful push. "So if you're going to talk to me, please make sure that you're referring to the case rather than anything irrelevant." He's taken aback, never expecting her to be so defensive about this.

"Alright then...let's talk about the case." He sits himself in the chair that she's just vacated, leaning back in it, "did Artie get you a list of all the similar kidnappings?"

"Yes," she responds quickly, shoving a stack of files in front of him.

Leaning over in surprise, he shuffles through them. "_This many_?" he frowns with disbelief written all over his face. He opens the first file, reading over the brief at the beginning, "1990? You think that this is the same guy? This is more than twenty years ago..." He feels sick at the thought of the the UNSUB potentially having been killing for so long, destroying so many lives. And then something else hits him.

"Wait, if there are so many deaths how come no one noticed before?" He shakes his head in wonder, "there are at least fifteen dead people here and nobody put two and two together?"

"They're from different states," she explains, "all close to here, but still different states, and once things cross the jurisdiction line, police tend not to notice as they only work on the cases in their own county. No cross examination of these cases means that they slip through the system." She takes the top file from him, flipping through the pages as she reads certain parts.

"And you think the UNSUB travelled across state to stay hidden?" No response. "...Rachel?"

He looks back up to the woman, who is focused on the board before her, writing some notes next to each victim as she pins the picture next to them. She mumbles to herself hurriedly, pupils narrowed in concentration, while Finn comes to stand behind her, staring with haunted eyes at the scale of what they're dealing with.

But then, he looks closer. "They're different ages. Like, _really_ different." Some victims are teenagers, others children, and then women. "I thought the UNSUB was living out fantasies of these women being his wife or girlfriend. If this is the same guy, it doesn't make sense that he'd do the same to the young children, or even the teenagers."

"He's not acting out a marriage or romantic relationship," she clarifies adamantly.

"And you know this because...?"

"Because," she begins, still furiously writing, "his victims age with time." She points to the board, a picture of a smiling young girl facing them, "starting with Francis Brown, seven years old, and ending with Emma Holland, thirty two years old." The tip of her finger slides across the corkscrew board until it stops on the victim that he remembers seeing in real life. He watches her with interest, letting her words sink in.

_Thee victims age with time. _

His brows dip in thought, "so what? Our guy is trying to replace someone in his life, someone who was taken away at the age of seven?"

Rachel nods.

"Who do you think it is? A sister? A daughter?"

"It's his daughter," she states, voice blank.

"How do you know that?" Finn asks curiously, checking over the board again. She seems to have come to that conclusion pretty quickly. The more he looks, the more it appears that her theory is right, and he feels like this could be the breakthrough for the investigation.

Ignoring his question, Rachel takes out her phone, calling for Artie. "You hollered?" he hears his friend voice on the other end, smiling to himself.

"Artie, we think that the UNSUB is trying to replace their child. I need you to check through the system for any reports of accidents where a child dies." She presses the phone further to her ear, fingers lingering over the picture of the first victim, "the year was 1990, and the child would be a seven year old girl."

"Whoa, say that again, but like, at human speed," Artie says.

She rolls her eyes, "Artie..."

"Chill, I got it. Wait, which area am I searching?"

"Start with Lima, Ohio first, and then broaden to all of Ohio. We're not exactly sure if the accident happened here or not." She paces the room, Finn straining to hear Artie on the other end as she steps away from him. "Get back to me as quick as you can," she states, before quickly hanging up and spinning to face Finn once more. "We have to tell everyone what we discovered," she insists, moving for the door, where his hand catches hold of her arm, halting her.

Unusually, she doesn't resist, and instead lifts her gaze to his. "Look, I know that we're not exactly friends or whatever, but I just want you to know that if there's ever something bothering you, _no matter what_, I will be here to listen to you." He smiles, a soft, hopeful smile. At first, she just kind of _stares_ at him, but then her eyes darken, and her features tighten.

"I don't need your sympathy, Finn," she snaps, yanking her arm from him, "you have no idea what I'm upset about and you have no right to just invade on my life like this."

"So this is the thanks I get for trying to help you?"

She gives him an incredulous stare, "_help_ _me_? Telling me that I'm not okay is in no way helping me, and badgering me until you get an answer is more infuriating than helpful. I don't understand why you feel the need to turn me into some charity case, but I can assure you that I don't want it."

"Everyone needs someone that the can rely on," he insists.

"And how do you know that I don't have that person?"

"Because I've never seen you with anyone other than the people we work with," he snaps, "you never talk about anyone else. Hell, you barely even _leave_ work." She flinches at harsh tone to his voice, though Finn hadn't intended it to come out that way. He briefly looks apologetic. "Look, Rachel, from what I can see, you could really use a friend."

Her expression hardens, though he sees a flash of uncertainty in her eyes, "you don't know me, Finn. I actually have a boyfriend, you know, and believe it or not I have a life outside of the BAU, so thank you for your concern, but it's really a fruitless endeavour to worry about my well-being." He opens his mouth to speak, though is silenced when she raises her hand, "while I understand that you want to boost your ego by helping me out and being "the good guy", I'd appreciate it if you instead focused on the case and don't bring up how you're worried about me again during this trip. I'm absolutely fine, and yes, I may be dealing with some personal problems, but that's exactly what they are... _personal_. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."

With that, she tightens her jaw and bursts out of the room, slamming the door closed after herself. Finn blinks a couple of times, the words just thrown his way leaving him taken aback – he thought that he was doing the right thing, reaching out to someone who seems to be troubled, and he never expected her to react in such a way.

A few minutes later, he too steps from the room, avoiding Rachel completely and slipping into where Blaine works on the small note. The note itself doesn't give much help to the investigation. Just some ramblings of "give her to me" and "she's mine". Probably the most unsettling one is "I know you have her" though he and Blaine weren't able to establish who the _you_ refers to.

Blaine'll figure it out soon enough, he thinks confidently. The guy used to study handwriting and he knows what every style reveals about the character of the person writing it. It's quite interesting, actually, but after the little grilling from Rachel, he doesn't exactly want to listen to Blaine going on and on about it. So yeah, he sort of zones him out, not that Blaine notices. He happily talks to Finn's blank expression, as if in a world of his own.

Finn, on the other hand, can't seem to shake off what Rachel just said. He'd meant his words in good spirit, _maybe_ in hopes of actually becoming her friend. Contrary to popular belief, she's only crazy, work Rachel half of the time, but he's seen the other side to her, the side that he _does_ want to get to know better. And she completely dismissed the idea, stating that she has a _boyfriend_. The word makes his stomach twist uneasily, and his heart clench just the slightest bit. It's only then that he realizes he's jealous - something he thought he'd never be admitting to himself. And the most unsettling this is that he has no idea what to do about it, seeing as he's already offered his friendship to Rachel and she _clearly_ does want it. What now?

Sighing, he drops his chin on his balled up fist. "Am I doing that thing again?" Blaine asks.

He blinks. "What?"

"You know, that thing where I explain something and I go too fast for you guys," he begins, innocently enough.

Finn chuckles, shaking his head, "I was just thinking about the case. Rachel figured out that the UNSUB is trying to replace his daughter, _not_ a girlfriend, and now we can narrow down the list." He pauses, "we've almost found this guy, I can feel it. Once Artie's got us a list we've pretty much got it."

Blaine gives a wry smile, "when is it ever that easy, Finn?"

"Huh, that's true."

* * *

He isn't sure how long he and Blaine are stuck in the dreary, stuffy office, but it's a little _too_ long, and he's relieved when Santana comes in to announce to them that Artie has a list of five possible suspects, who they need to bring in for questioning.

He and Blaine join the others, Finn noting how Rachel practically stays glued to the other side of the room to where he is, while Marley hands out the small files of each suspect. "Now Artie checked the background of each suspect and these are the only ones whose daughters died at the age, and while not all have a history with the police, we shouldn't rule out those." He takes his file off her, peering inside at the suspect who he's visiting. Paul Strimmer. The man doesn't look like he could pull off so many murders, but Finn's learned that looks can be deceiving.

"Alright," Marley continues, "Finn and Santana can go together, I'll go with Rachel and Puck and Blaine will..."

Finn hears the rustling of paper, swivelling his head to the side to see Rachel frantically searching through the file she has. Without even asking, she takes Puck's from his hand, ignoring his complaints, before repeating the same system with his file. "No," she mumbles, shoving it back into his chest.

By the time she gets to Blaine, everyone else has noticed, all sharing the same expression of "_what the hell?_" Rather than have his snatched from his grasp, Blaine shoves his forward, eyes slightly widened. It's another no.

"Rachel?" Finn frowns, her erratic behaviour now becoming deeply worrying. "Rachel," he raises his voice when she opts to ignore him.

"She's finally lost it," Santana comments with a roll of the eyes as Rachel reaches her.

"It isn't any of these men," Rachel growls, fingers clasping onto the paper. She lifts her gaze, those brown eyes looking a little more unhinged than he's comfortable with. Finn feels himself stepping over to her, large hands falling on her tense shoulders.

"What are you talking about, Rachel?"

She shrugs them off, head still shaking from side to side, "we haven't found him. None of those men are the UNSUB."

Santana scoffs, "how the hell do you know that? I know you like to show off, Berry, but this is a little far fetched."

"I'm not lying," she snaps defensively, worry lines appearing on her forehead, before she quietly repeats, "I'm _not_ lying." Rachel takes a step away from him, eyes trying to stay strong as they glance around the room of confused spectators to her minor meltdown. She draws in a deep breath, then drops the papers in her hands to the table, storming out of the room.

* * *

**Hmmm, what's going on with Rachel? ;)**

**Please review :)**


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Glee, Crime, Romance