Hi everyone!

I was feeling so loved after posting chapter 4, it motivated me to sit down and start working on this one. Especially because I now know the name of my anonymous reader whose review reminded me how much I had loved this story… and that so many of you had loved it too! Shout out to theluckyclover for being my wonderful mystery reviewer – you do deserve some of the credit for my return, after all :).

It had been a week since Rachel had run out on him. He'd tried calling the number he had for her, but she never answered it. It didn't even go to voicemail - the line would ring three times and then give a loud electronic chirp in his ear before disconnecting. A CIA burner phone, no doubt; untraceable and without any capacity for recording messages from unanswered calls. A national security measure, of course, to prevent secrets from being recorded and then stolen… but a serious pain in Finn's ass right now.

He tried going to the coffee shop where they'd had their first meeting in a desperate attempt at catching her ordering a green tea, but no luck. Hell, he'd even sunk so low as to ask Puck if he'd seen or heard from Rachel. He immediately regretted asking when Puck took the question as implying that Rachel wanted to get with him, causing Puck to lick his lips and explain in excruciating detail to a fuming Finn exactly what he'd have done to the brilliant brunette if she'd ever called.

Finn knew she didn't spend much time, if any, away from her apartment when she wasn't at their lessons. Director Schuester had directly forbidden her from going anywhere but his apartment and the coffee shop. She was supposed to be missing, after all. The famous Rachel Berry couldn't reappear all of a sudden in a suburban Virginia grocery store – it would blow their cover for the mission. everything depended on the presumption that while Rachel was famous in the New York theater scene, that fame wouldn't extend to England. But someone assumed dead reappearing? That kind of thing did make international headlines. They couldn't risk it.

Finn didn't even know where Rachel was living at the moment, and he certainly couldn't call up his superiors at the CIA to report her missing and get the address. How was that conversation supposed to go? 'Yeah, hi, it's Agent Hudson. I know you're trusting me for the very first time to not screw up on a mission, but I've managed fuck everything up before I even left for it.'

Yeah, right. Calling to report Rachel as MIA was not going to happen. Not if he didn't want his ass fired.

With his mission briefing tucked safely into his carry-on briefcase and his bags lined up at his front door, Finn found himself wondering if his fake wife was even going to show up. Their plane left in three hours, and they were supposed to meet at his apartment to take a car to Dulles International together. After all, as soon as they stepped foot in the airport, their identities had to be firmly in place. And it didn't seem likely that 'Brad' would go to the airport without 'Janet'. But he supposed if 'Janet' had vanished once more, it didn't really matter how 'Brad' traveled?

Finn awkwardly adjusted the hem of his expensive, tailored three piece suit as he looked himself over in the mirror. Brad Campbell, his alias, was supposed to be a senior financial officer from the Washington office who had been transferred to the British headquarters – a position that would give him access to every high level document and bank statement they would need to confirm the alleged arms deal and shut it down. But Finn felt like he didn't fit in the outfit. Ok, literally, yes he fit – it was tailor made for his large football frame, so he'd look the polished part of his character. But as he gave his reflection the once over, he felt like an obvious imposter. He wasn't a financial officer… he'd gotten a C in Algebra I in high school. Most of the time he couldn't even accurately do the math on how much he owed when he split a bar tab with Puck. Hell, he sometimes caught himself counting on his fingers to make sure he didn't get basic calculations wrong.

He was screwed if he had to do this on his own. Fucked. Dead on arrival. Rachel had trained him well, but for fuck's sake he'd only had two weeks to pick it all up. He needed the professional to keep him on track, to keep helping him. And… well, he needed Rachel. Not the teacher, the person. He'd gotten used to her comforting presence around him, the way she smiled encouragingly when he wasn't sure what to do. If he was going to walk into hell and hope to come out on the other side… he needed her there, walking with him.

Sure, neither one of them had it all together, but their strengths and weaknesses always seemed to play off each other. Rachel was a talker, Finn was more the strong silent type. Rachel jumped to wild conclusions, Finn sat back and thought things over. Rachel was book smart, Finn was people smart. On his own, he was pretty sure this was a suicide mission. He needed his balance point. His perspective, his... well, partner, in every terrifying sense he'd come to realize it was meant.

Three sharp knocks on his front door shook him out of his thoughts. Assuming it was the appointed CIA driver coming up to collect the bags, Finn sighed in defeat. It was time. She really wasn't going through with this. He'd scared her off; he was alone again. "Yeah, I'm coming…" he called, sounding as dejected as he felt before opening the front door. He didn't really even look up, moving to collect his manufactured US passport off the coffee table and secure it in the locked leather briefcase in his hand.

"… Hi."

Finn turned abruptly, eyes wide in shock. Rachel was standing in the doorway, looking every bit the part of Janet Campbell. Her hair was artfully pulled back from her face into a loose bun, secured with gold clips. A large string of pearls that probably cost more than his annual rent hung from her neck, complimenting the pale pink, high necked cocktail dress she was wearing. She had black heels on that lifted her up at least half a foot, but even then she was a head shorter than him. She looked classic, elegant… and absolutely breathtaking.

"Uhh… Hi." Finn responded stupidly, blinking as he took in the sight of her. She'd come. He chanced a glance behind her and spotted several bags lined up in the hallway. Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pulling her own fake passport out of the expensive bag in her arms. The two of them just stared at each other for a minute, and it was clear neither of them really knew what to say. There was too much hanging in the air after their last meeting, and most of it neither one wanted to address right away. It was like there was a bomb in the middle of the room, and both were too afraid of even breathing too loudly and setting it off.

"… We're going to be late for the airport if we don't leave soon." Rachel said after a minute, sending him a small smile. Well, it wasn't exactly an explanation for her disappearance. It wasn't a declaration of love, it wasn't even anything substantive. But it was her choosing to come with him. She had run away, but… she was back. Not the way he wanted her to be, not the way she would be if this was the end of one of those stupid chick flicks girls were always carrying on about. But she was going to see this through with him, and Finn supposed he would have to settle for that. At least, until they got to England. Once he had her over there, she'd be stuck with him and his questions. She'd have to talk to him, she'd have nowhere to hide once they were sharing one apartment together. But first, he had to make sure he didn't fuck it all up again before they were even on the plane.

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right." Finn agreed, nodding his head and moving to pick up his own suitcases. Rachel seemed surprised when he brushed past her without arguing or asking for an explanation for the last week, watching him go down the stairs with his bags to the waiting car. When he climbed back up to collect her things, she was standing in the doorway looking back into his apartment with a mixture of sadness and grudging resolve.

God, what Finn would give for the ability to read her mind. He knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he often needed people to spell things out for him. And with Rachel? It was one damn mystery after another, and she didn't give him any hints to solve them. Sometimes he wondered if he even really knew her at all. But then she'd smile and look at him with that twinkle in her eyes, and he knew he did. At least, he knew the girl underneath. Who she was at her core, what she'd be like if she wasn't so weighed down by the cloaks of secrecy piled on top of her. He didn't know what those were, per say, but he knew who she'd be when they were gone.

Finn coughed to get her attention, which tugged Rachel out of whatever inner monologue she'd been having to focus on him again. "I… is this all you're bringing?" he asked her, gesturing to the four suitcases she had lined up on the stairs. Rachel nodded, steeling her nerves and walking forward to grab the smallest one. Finn managed to juggle the other three and together they got into the back of the waiting escort car. It promptly sped away from the curb, leaving Finn's former life behind them in a puff of exhaust smoke.

Finn exhaled shakily, the reality of the situation sinking in. His first real mission, the first genuine taste of danger. If he messed up anymore, it might cost him his life or Rachel's. He tensed at the thought, stomach knotting uncomfortably. He thought he might be sick, that maybe this was the worst mistake he'd made in his short life. What would his mother do if he died? What was the government even going to tell her had happened to him?

A small hand taking his snapped him out of the panic spiral, and he looked up in surprise to see Rachel smiling reassuringly at him. "… We're going to be fine." she promised him cryptically. That statement could apply to so many different things when it came to this moment, and it wasn't totally clear which one she was referring to. The mission, their relationship (or lack thereof), their respective fragile mental states. So to calm his racing nerves, Finn laced his fingers through hers and decided fuck it, she meant all of them. Every last concern he had, they'd be fine. It would work out. They were together, they could do it as a team. He needed to think she believed that so he could. If Rachel believed in him... he felt like he could do anything she asked.

The drive from Langley to Dulles was short, barely thirty minutes. Neither one of them spoke after Rachel's reassurance, content to sit quietly with their hands laced together and mentally prepare for what they were about to do. When Finn chanced a glance at Rachel, she had her eyes closed in concentration and she was taking deep, meditative breaths. An old stage preparation technique Finn had seen his step-brother Kurt do hundreds of times when they were in high school. A way to focus, the clear the mind of external noise or thoughts. She was getting into character. Finn didn't know why, but he smiled softly at that. Maybe it was the fact that it was a sign of the old Rachel rising to the surface that made him grin, or maybe it was that her dedication to the role convinced him that they might actually pull this off.

When the car stopped at the curb of the terminal, Rachel opened her eyes and turned to Finn with an excited smile. She squeezed his hand, straightening her shoulders a little bit. "… Are you ready, Brad?" she asked him, looking at him with an expectant raise of her eyebrows.

Right. In character. No more practice, it was game time.

"Yes, Janet… I am." he confirmed, forcing himself to say 'yes' instead of 'yeah' to sound more refined and well educated. Rachel had lectured him for about an hour about the importance of word choice when it came to creating a believable character. To be honest, he'd only listened to the first and last five minutes of it. He kind of zoned out sometimes when she'd go into her epically long rants and speeches. She was cute when she did it, so he didn't stop her but… it was a lot of words, and he didn't always have a big attention span. But he had obviously picked up enough from her to make that change, and she beamed at him to indicate he'd made the right choice.

With one final reassuring squeeze of his hand, Rachel pushed open her passenger side door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Finn followed her out of the car, grabbing them a cart so they could pile their luggage onto it and find check-in. Once he had all of their things secure and was starting to head for the desk, he felt a tiny hand wrap around his right arm. When he looked down, Rachel was holding onto him affectionately, leaning her head into his shoulder as they walked towards the first-class counter. That was the perk to this particular cover; Brad and Janet were fancy people, so they got to fly in the fancy section of the plane.

The way Rachel was holding him made one final piece of her jewelry he'd missed earlier glint in the light and catch his attention. A brilliant, large diamond engagement ring on her left ring finger, with a matching simpler silver band in front of it. Wedding rings. Wedding rings he couldn't even dream of affording on his normal government salary. He smiled affectionately down at her, warmth spreading through his chest at the idea of Rachel wearing a ring that declared her as his. Well, Janet as Brad's. Fuck, this was going to get confusing very fast. Every affectionate thing she did, he'd have to actively decide if it was from her… or part of the Janet disguise.

Finn suddenly remembered his own thick silver ring he was supposed to be wearing, sliding it subtly out of his coat pocket and onto his own ring finger while the woman behind the counter explained to them where they'd be seated on their plane to London. It was heavy, both literally and figuratively. Guess that meant it was a good one, but Finn honestly had no fucking clue when it came to this kind of stuff. He subconsciously cracked the knuckles on that hand, trying to get used to the sensation of having any kind of jewelry on.

Rachel stayed dutifully glued to Finn's side as their bags were checked and rolled away on the conveyor belt. Once he was no longer pushing their belongings and had a free hand, she slipped her tiny one back into it naturally as they walked together towards security. The cool metal of his ring pressed against her palm, which made her look up at him with an easy, adoring smile and wink. Fuck - Rachel or Janet? Rachel or Janet?!

With her standing so close and looking so beautiful, Finn couldn't help but press a kiss to her forehead. He heard Rachel inhale sharply as he leaned in, but she hid her surprise well in her facial expression. She just continued to smile, like he kissed her like that all the time, before walking forward to hand over her passport to the nearest TSA agent. Finn sighed to himself, already sensing what a long day this would be. He knew Rachel couldn't acknowledge how she really felt when he did things like that, it would blow the whole thing. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bury himself completely under the Brad personality – he was still himself, he still loved Rachel as himself, and he wanted to see and hear her genuine reactions to things. What he'd give for five minutes of unfiltered honesty from her.

But as long as they were out in the open like this, he knew he couldn't have that.

Finn had never been on an international flight before, let alone in the first class cabin of any airplane. Rachel, by comparison, seemed much more at home in this life of luxury as she sank down into the plush seating and began putting away her personal belongings. She must've noticed his lost expression as he desperately tried to take it all in, so she beamed with a small giggle and held her hand out for his briefcase. "Let me help you, sweetheart." she cooed affectionately, the pet name causing Finn's heart to race again. He smiled genuinely, handing it over before sinking down into the massive seat beside her. Rachel unlocked the briefcase, pulling out his headphones and handing them over before stowing it away over their heads with her purse.

When Rachel was seated again, a flight attendant came over to offer them a complimentary glass of champagne. It took every freaking ounce of Finn's training with Rachel to not look absolutely floored at the offer, but rather like he'd been expecting it. Free champagne?! Was this seriously how the other half lived?! He thanked the woman quickly as he handed one glass over to Rachel before taking one for himself. He turned to his fake wife, holding up the glass and giving her a questioning look.

"What should we toast to?" he asked her, hoping against hope that she'd realize he was asking as Finn, not Brad. He wanted a real answer. Fuck he'd even settle for a one of her cryptic ones right about now. Just something to hold onto. Rachel seemed to recognize the plea, swallowing hard and clearing her throat before lifting her eyes back to his and raising her glass to meet his.

"… To us." she answered, which made Finn vaguely aware that people were still listening to them. He started to frown as their glasses clinked together, assuming she'd said what she said for the benefit of the rest of first class, not because she meant it. But after they'd both taken a sip of their drinks, Rachel leaned across the divide between their seats and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. She did it fast he didn't even have time to respond to it, barely even a peck. But his heart exploded and a sudden surge of energy shot through him none the less; he immediately sat up straighter, like the kiss had recharged his batteries.

"… Later." she promised him in a barely audible whisper as she pulled away from the kiss, giving him one last warning look not to break character before painting a loving grin back on her lips and relaxing back into her plush seat with her champagne.

Later. They'd talk later. Considering the fact that he was the federal agent, Rachel seemed more dedicated to the task at hand in this moment than he did. Maybe it was just her inner actress, refusing to break with her role even when her scene partners didn't do what she expected them to. Finn forced himself to take a steadying breath, the promise of their conversation once alone giving him the strength he needed to firmly pull the persona of Brad over his own and commit to being on this flight as someone else.

Rachel was right. Now wasn't the time… he wasn't sure there was ever really a right time to talk about what had happened last week, considering that there was no turning back now. It would've been one thing to admit how he felt when they were still on US soil, where he supposed he could've told Schuester and kept them both safe. But in England? If anything happened between them, it was too late - plans were in motion and they might be faced with choices neither one of them would want to make. As the plane taxied and launched into the air, Finn spun his wedding band around his finger idly, occupying his thoughts by running through what he was supposed to do when they landed.

Make contact with our handler in the airport near baggage claim four, get to the flat, attend the welcome dinner at the company at 7 PM. Make contact with our handler in the airport near baggage claim four, get to the flat, attend the welcome dinner at the company at 7 PM. Make contact with our handler in the airport near baggage claim four, get to the flat, attend the welcome dinner at the company at 7 PM….

He repeated it over and over like a meditation, making sure he had all of it correct. As the plane leveled out, he broke his focus and turned to glance at his fake wife. Rachel had finished her champagne, tugged out a sleep mask and reclined her seat to an almost completely horizontal bed.

Damn, first class. It certainly trumped sleeping upright in coach with strangers.

With a deep frown, Finn realized Rachel was trying to sleep without a pillow or blanket. He immediately stood, removing his tailored suit jacket and draping it over Rachel's body. She was so small, it almost covered her entirely. Clearly she wasn't fully asleep yet, because she instantly sat up and peeled the mask away from her eyes to look at him in confusion. He merely shrugged, smiling down at her as he retrieved his neck pillow from the overhead compartment and handed it to her. "You looked cold, darling." he explained breezily, trying out a pet name of his own as he sat back down next to her, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "You can sleep, I'll wake you when there's breakfast…"

Rachel's smile stretched from ear to ear as she accepted the pillow and curled happily into his jacket. She stole one last glance at him, clearly trying to communicate something to him without words before she readjusted the mask and went to sleep. Finn just shook his head as he put his headphones in and selected a movie to watch to pass the time. He didn't even want to guess at what she'd been trying to say, out of fear that he'd get it wrong and be disappointed when they had their talk later and she proved him wrong.

But as Finn watched Rachel sleep for the next five hours, he couldn't help but notice how relaxed she looked next to him, curled up under his jacket. She was breathing in deep right along the collar, where he knew the fresh scent of his cologne would still be lingering from that morning. The worry lines he'd gotten so used to seeing were smoothed out, giving him one of his first glances at what she would look like without the weight of her secrets on her shoulders. Youthful, peaceful… gorgeous. Finn smiled affectionately, tugging a corner of the jacket up to cover her shoulder when she moved, making a promise to himself then and there.

He'd make her look like that all the time if it was the last thing he did.