Finn stood in the warm spring night with his press pass and camera around his neck, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his notepad and pen in hand taking in the crime scene in front of him. The Adams' estate was lit up with every outside light and the red and blue emergency lights of about half dozen police cars giving it the look of a circus. The urge to get closer was there, but the bright yellow police line stopped him, so he stood watching Boston PD and their associates scurry around.

Looking at his watch, it was two in the morning, and as he glanced around, he saw reporters from other news agencies standing there with tired, bored looks on their faces, while Finn worked to suppress the grin that wanted to come out. He was excited. This was his first call to a crime scene, as a reporter, and he wanted to do his best and really impress his editor. Finn saw Becky Jackson, Boston PD's media liaison, looking just as tired as the others. Finn felt sorry for her since he knew she was only came out into the field for high profile crimes and the Adams' estate was high profile. Any case in the exclusive Beacon Hill area of Boston was high profile, but as descendents of John Adams, this case was guaranteed to reach a whole new level of media frenzy.

Finn listened intently every time Becky had new information to share with the media and would take notes. In between information, Finn would write down potential questions and snap pictures of all of the people working the scene as well as the vehicles. This way he had a way to identify people for possible interviews later. Finn watched, after being there for about an hour, the coroner's assistants bring out a black body bag strapped onto a gurney. As his peers took pictures or video, Finn felt a level of disgust, this poor person had just lost their life and everyone wanted a picture of their dead body. Finn, on the other hand, removed his faded Navy squadron's baseball cap and bowed his head in respect until the body was placed in the van and the door shut with a loud clang in the relatively quiet night. As he raised his head and replaced his cap, Finn saw the older assistant, a man in his fifties, standing in front of him, looking him square in the eye.

Taking no time for pleasantries the old man looked at Finn and asked, "Whatchya name son? And who do you work for?"

"Finn Hudson sir. I'm a reporter for the Herald." Finn responded, standing straighter in front of the man.

"Well Finn Hudson, you were respectful of that young man that is in the van, unlike the other vultures out here." The old man spat out, disgust evident in his voice, "here's my card, if you have any questions or anything, and maybe I can help. It's nice seeing a respectful young man, plus us Navy vets have to watch out for each other." With a wink, the man strode off leaving Finn only slightly confused. Looking at the card in his hand, Finn smiled hoping that James Lucas would be helpful in the future. Finn slid the card carefully into the paperclip that he kept in this notepad, and continued taking pictures and notes.

At around three in the morning, the scene had pretty much died down and most of the other reporters had left like a half hour after the body had been moved. Preparing to leave, Finn noticed a small female detective talking animatedly to the Adams and their estate manager. Finn couldn't make out what the conversation was about, but Finn knew it wasn't about the homicide, since the homicide detective had left with the body. Interested, Finn watched the manager leave and then return with several large binders and a couple of accordion files. Was this about the murder victim or something else? Finn wondered as he watched them get handed to the small detective. Finn watched as she placed them into a Boston PD duffel bag and had the Adams sign something. He continued to watch as she sort of skip walked, with the bag, back to her car, and Finn would have sworn she looked right at him before she drove away.

Taking notes over what had just happened, Finn felt a tap on his elbow, looking up he saw Becky Jackson pull the police tape up and motioning for him to go under it. Stooping rather low, Finn crossed the line and silently followed Becky to the back of the house, all the time wondering why she was doing this. Coming to one of the backdoors, Finn voiced his question, "Becky, where are you taking me and why?"

In her distinct voice, Becky looked him in the eye and stated softly, "You're the only one still here; you've always been nice and patient with me when you call. You've done everything right and I think you should be rewarded. I am giving you access to something that no one else besides the police has had access to, the crime scene. The crime lab is done processing the scene, and now it will be just left for a few days in case the detectives want to come back and look at it, so you can't touch anything, but you can take as many pictures as you want. You just have to wear these," and she held out those blue shoe covers that surgeons wear over their shoes.

Slipping on the covers Becky led him to a museum styled room that contained around a dozen smashed or open glass display cases that contained black velvet platforms and looking at the walls, Finn saw that most things were still there, but there was a one thing that had obviously been removed. Then there was blood, splattered on a shattered display as well as a now brownish pool from where the body had lain. There had been a robbery, and from the dark shadow left by the pieces, it appeared to be jewelry that had been taken. Finn knew that the Adams' had a large heirloom collection of jewelry and gemstones that dated back before John Adams became president. Besides the obvious worth of the gems, gold and silver, why steal some of Boston's most photographed jewelry? And why didn't the police tell the press about the theft? One thing that also stuck out to Finn was a dark painted rectangle in the middle of a wall of framed maps; the frame was now laying, broken, smashed on the floor, the contents gone. Why would someone want an antique map?

With the questions still in his head, Finn quickly started with as many pictures as he could in the short amount of time he was in the room. He knew Becky was breaking protocol allowing him to do this, and he knew he was going to have to "Pay the piper" soon enough, but right now, this could give him the edge. Just to be on the safe side, Finn took pictures from just outside the room from the two entrances and from the security guards office which was just linked to the display room by a small hallway. Finn heard Becky whisper, "We gotta get out." And he quickly followed her out the door they had come in, hopeful that no one the wiser that they had been in there.

Back at her car, he shook Becky's hand and thanked her again for the access to the crime scene and then jogged over to his truck. As he opened his door, he watched Becky drive off and would have sworn that she blew him a kiss as left. Shaking his head in disbelief as he climbed in, he threw his bag in the seat next to him and placed his camera back in its bag, and drove towards downtown and the Boston Herald and his little cubicle on the third floor.

The third floor was dimly lit, no one was really expected in until around eight or eight thirty and it was only three thirty. In the break room, Finn needed to make some coffee, but when he looked at the machine, he shook his head. It looked more complicated than the guns he worked on the helicopter. Sighing loudly, because that meant he was going to have to go out to get some caffeine, Finn grabbed his ID and phone and walked back out of the building and down a couple of blocks to a twenty four hour Starbucks. Finn hated Starbucks and their prices, but right now it was all that was close and open. Standing in line, why the hell there is a line at three thirty in the morning, Finn looked over the menu and decided what he wanted. Finn saw a sign that said "Free black coffee/tea refills for dine in guests." As his cue, Finn decided he was going to drink one cup here and refill to go. As the barista waited, hand poised over her pad, Finn placed his order of a grande black coffee with skim milk, a muffin and a chicken salad sandwich. When she started to ask him what roast he wanted, Finn just shook his head and said whichever was the strongest and went to wait for his order.

At the counter was a small woman, who could easily be mistaken for a young girl, wearing a short black skirt, a black button down and a purple sweater, drumming her fingers on the counter and humming something softly as she waited. She looked tired, and wanting to make conversation Finn asked, "Not used to being up this early?" giving her his trademark grin.

He heard her sigh and look back at him and smiled a tired but sweet smile, "No, my job normally allows me to wake during normal hours, but something big happened and so they called me in breaking my sleep regime."

Taken slightly aback, Finn had to ask, "You have a sleep regime?"

"Yes, my job requires me to be at my best both physically and mentally, and if I don't do certain things before going to bed and allowing for a true eight hours of solid sleep, then I am not at my best and that could cause all kinds of issues on what I am working on, which is very important to the people of this great city. So if I don't follow through with my regime, than I am less than spectacular, and that is not a good thing at all." She stated as if it were an everyday, by the book fact.

Laughing at how much she talked, Finn shook his head and said, "For someone who is tired, you sure do talk a lot, and fast too."

"Well, here's my order. Sorry to have bothered you." She said with a bit of sarcasm and stormed over to the lone empty table in the place. As Finn's order was delivered he had to ask himself again, why the hell is it packed so early in the frickin' morning? Seeing an empty seat at the table the lady he had been talking to, Finn went over and stood there for a second waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she didn't he coughed to get her attention, as she looked up he gave her his best "I'm sorry" look.

"I'm really sorry if I offended you. I've just never met someone that could talk so quickly when they were tired and have everything make sense. Normally it's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. May I sit down with you, please? My name is Finn Hudson."

Seeing her relent, she held a petite hand out and said, "I'm Rachel Berry, nice to meet you Finn Hudson." Being careful not to spill his coffee, Finn sat his things down and then took the seat across from her, smiling. "Are you always so chipper so early in the morning Mr. Hudson?" Rachel asked as she took a sip of her coffee and grimaced.

Finn shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of his sandwich, "No, I'm used to having to be up at weird hours and having little sleep, so this doesn't bother me at all. Not much of a coffee drinker? And please call me Finn." Finn asked as he watched her pour two more packets of Splenda into her cup to add to the four torn packets already on the table.

When she sighed, Finn looked at her, surprised at how melodic it sounded, "No Mr…err Finn, I actually detest the bitterness of coffee. I normally drink teas, but I needed more caffeine than what my normal tea would provide. Obviously, coffee isn't an issue for you?"

Shaking his head, he chuckled, "No ma'am. I was in the Navy for six years, coffee ran through my veins for those six years. The funny thing about Navy coffee and tea is they look exactly the same, extremely black and so strong you could stand a knife up in them. The only way to tell which was which was by smelling them. So I learned to drink coffee, but added a bit of milk to thin it out. I actually hate Starbucks, but it was the only place open. Three dollars for a cup of coffee is a bit much."

"So you were in the Navy? What did you do in the Navy? Did you get to go all around the world and do exciting things?" Finn noticed Rachel's eyes as she talked; they were large and deep brown and sparkled as she talked. He liked that and she seemed eager to hear about the Navy too, which was a bonus.

"Yea, I definitely traveled and learned a lot about the Persian Gulf. I was a weapons specialist for a helicopter squadron, and I was trained as a rescue swimmer. I've been all over the Middle East and actually had Liberty in Sydney Australia. That was pretty cool."

"So why did you leave the Navy?"

"Because I joined so I could attend college. I was raised by my mom. My dad died when I was a baby, so she couldn't afford to send me to college and I wasn't the brightest student, so scholarships were a no go. The only way I could really get a degree was join the military. Since my dad was killed while he was in the military, my mom wasn't thrilled. I think the fact that I joined the Navy made her feel a little better, but it allowed me to go to UCSD and now here I am. What about you Rachel? I just told you my life in a minute story, so now it's your turn."

"Let's see…I grew up in New York with aspirations of being on Broadway, but as I got older, I realized there were other things I was good at, like research and being tenacious enough to find the truth, so I got a scholarship to Boston College in pre-law and that's how I ended up here." Finn watched her smile, signaling that she was done, but he could tell she wasn't telling the whole story.

As he finished eating, he watched Rachel Berry, because that was one thing he was trained to do, always observe. She was little, a good foot shorter than he was. She had an awesome smile, and he was pretty sure he hadn't seen her full smile yet, which would probably blow him away. She had long dark brown that was pulled back in a headband, and made her appear a lot younger than she was. She had a unique nose, but it just seemed to fit her. Her eyes though, they blew him away, so big and brown and mesmerizing. He could stare into them and totally lose track of time, which was exactly what was happening.

The clock on the wall chimed four, and Finn gulped his bite down, "Shit, I gotta go. I've got a lot of things to get done before my boss gets in. It was really nice to meet you Rachel. I'm sorry to rush, but I've got things I have to do." Finn held out his hand, and noticed he had some chicken salad on it, wiping in on his jeans he held it out again and smiled and Rachel giggled and took his now clean hand.

"It was nice to spend some time with you too Finn. I need to be leave too; I have things that I need to start." As she stood up to leave, Finn realized that she shouldn't be walking alone at that time of day in the downtown area.

"Hey do you want me to walk you back to your work? You shouldn't be alone." Finn asked, trying to be the respectful man his mom had raised him to be.

"Thanks for the offer, but it's just a couple of blocks away, and I promise you, I am very capable of defending myself." With that, Finn watched her walk down the sidewalk with a unique walk/skip that struck him as familiar.