Title: A Dangerous Game

Pairing: Santana centric

Summary: Future fic! It's been seven years since Santana's seen anyone from high school, but when she is given a missing persons case with the name 'Quinn Fabray', she's left at stopping at nothing to find her.

Disclaimer: Do NOT own show, just idea and writing.

…

The year is 2012…

Graduation went off with a smash since there really wasn't much that could go wrong. Well that is if the banner was too low and Finn got tangled in it, or Rachel being her graceful self and trips up the stairs or on the way down, or if the ramp they quickly made out of plywood suddenly cracked under the weight of Artie, but since neither of those things happened, Santana could consider it a job well done. Especially since Glee Club had to do their own lame rendition to the Vitamin C classic—Miss. Pillsbury-Shuester's choice.

Yes by the end of the year, Mr. Shue and Emma managed to marry each other without Will beating her down on her…accomplishments. Santana just thought he was jealous—he seemed to get that way a lot, the more she thought about it.

The biggest accomplishment had to be when she saw Brittany step up on that stage to get her diploma. It was a big deal she liked to believe and she also liked to believe she cheered the loudest, next to Quinn of course.

And now as she stood outside on Puck's balcony while the Glee kids and other graduates packed up his house, she wondered what lied ahead for everyone. Will they all keep in contact? That really just would blow her away, well with everyone scattering to other parts of the nation and others staying here in Lima since they have yet to graduate, she found it unlikely.

She held her beer in her hand and took a seat, letting her legs slide between the white fence, she dangled her feet over the roof, watching the night sky. Suddenly parties in high school didn't seem so fun anymore. She really should be enjoying it with it being only a few weeks before everyone goes off. Quinn especially since she got early admissions and would be starting in the early summer, but she couldn't—when her mind was set into overdrive it was hard to bust away from it.

The door cracked open behind her and she could hear the music and loud chattering, before it was closed off again. The person sighed a very feminine sigh, before sitting down next to her with her red solo cup—how fitting.

"I'd expect you to be partying it up and bawling your eyes out by now," she commented, sipping out of the cup then placing it off to the side.

Santana turned her head to eye Quinn carefully, before smirking—she knew her so well. "Yeah well, it doesn't seem so fitting anymore," she grumbled as Quinn nods in agreement, before letting a breath out.

"It really doesn't—pretty soon all of this will become some distant memory and we'll realize how stupid we were at eighteen," Quinn exclaims then turns her head to stare at an emotionally distant Santana. "But I wouldn't regret any of it,"

Santana blinks then turns to look at Quinn again and shrugs. "I would with everything that happened to you," she says, chugging her beer and Quinn eyed her in disbelief, then breathed out yet another laugh.

"Okay, so I would regret having Puck as my first, but when I think about Beth and how even though I was regretting letting Shelby take her, I realize I can't regret giving someone life while giving someone else the chance to be the mother they always wanted to be," Santana understands exactly what Quinn was getting at and even she wouldn't regret a single moment she's spent in high school.

However, she can't say all of it was sunshine and rainbows—yes rainbows; and unicorns for Brittany's sake. But it got better, it truly did, but she just wanted to move on, go to Columbia and study criminal law. The idea she gets to help people while kicking ass—it's like a double bonus in a career, when you've spent most of your life tormenting others; it was time to give back.

"You know Fabray, through all the petty shit we went through here, I always considered you one of my best friends, but I truly believe that none of us will ever stay in touch, with the exception of Rachel, Kurt, and Finn since two are going to NYADA and the others are related by marriage," Santana has been convinced of this for quite some time, since Brittany got her scholarship to Berkley for performing arts and she got her acceptance letter to Columbia.

She and Brittany were supposed to end the school year together to only begin another together in the same state and city, but who was she to turn down one of the best schools in the country and who was she to tell Brittany that turning down a full scholarship to one of the best schools in California just to come with her was right? Because it wasn't, so she never did. And now she and Brittany are no longer dating because the thought of long distance really was something they couldn't imagine.

"You're truly convinced of that? You and I will only be two hours apart, so I could always hop on a train to see you or something," Quinn shrugs and Santana chuckles as the wind picks up to force her to turn her head.

"Besides are you really that convinced that you and Brittany will never communicate again? The thought of that ever happening is slim to none, even with the distance," since Quinn is hers and Brittany's best friend after all, it's of course no shock that she knows every plan and every bit of information about the two of them. The fact is, Santana thought distance tore everyone apart, even friendships, so maybe that's what she's doing—ruining the ones she's built before the distance gets a chance to do so.

When she remains silent, Quinn just nods to herself as if she already got her answer. The girls were attached at the hip and the idea that they'll never speak again, just seemed so farfetched to her. But when Santana didn't bother saying anything else, she sighed and got up from her spot, grabbing her now empty cup in the process and got ready to walk back inside.

"You know, you and I aren't so different," Santana stops her and Quinn turns around expecting more; perhaps an explanation, but she doesn't start right away. Instead, Quinn takes a seat on one of the chairs that was placed outside.

"How do you figure?" Santana turns around to a curious Quinn, with her arms and legs crossed with a determined smirk.

Santana blinks as a small smile forms subconsciously across her lips. "Well we both wanted the same thing—power. And all the while when we thought we were the hottest bitches in school, deep down we were the most insecure—Lucy Caboosey," Santana eyes Quinn carefully, noticing the way her determined stare is now turned down to her lap.

"It's okay though, you felt out of place in your family and just the entire world's idea of being perfect, but here you are now; the poster child of perfect as am I," she adds with her typical bitch smile. Quinn doesn't know where these sudden rants from her friend are coming from, but she really couldn't be more right. Even though Quinn is a firm believer in 'if you don't like something about yourself change it', she couldn't hide the fact that through changing her outer appearance, she was still Lucy and probably always will be. But at the same time, Lucy needed to learn to love herself—and she has and when Lucy does something, so does Quinn.

"I'm planning to remove my breast implants after I get to New York," Santana's voice broke her from her thoughts. Her eyes widen at the sudden admittance. "If I want to be part of the FBI, I have to make sure that nothing is compressed on my chest or anything, you know? Plus, I realize how much attention actually sucks," she soon noticed that after Finn outed her and that stupid jock approached her—it didn't seem so important anymore.

"I think—," Quinn starts pushing herself off the chair and leans down behind Santana to hug her from behind. "I think you're going to make one amazing agent and then when I figure out what I'm going to do, I'll see you in New York. Don't think for a second that the 'Unholy Trinity' will ever separate because we've always stuck together even at our worse," she whispers to Santana, before kissing her temple and standing back up to walk back into the house to leave Santana deep in her thoughts.

That was seven years ago. And like she thought—it was the last time she saw Quinn Fabray.

…

The year is 2019…

Santana runs down the street through a dark alley after her suspect. Her phone is ringing nonstop, but she doesn't have time to answer it. Her suspect begins to run through traffic and she stops for a moment, trying to decide the best method to this, without having to fire her gun. While clutching her gun, she looks around frantically.

"Fuck it," she mumbles, running and hopping on top of a taxi that is currently being occupied and spots the man, running through the rush hour. She begins running, hopping from the top of one car to the next, while her partner travels right behind her with his gun raised ready to fire.

"Lopez!" He yells to her, watching has she jumps from a taxi and lands out of his sight. He curses under his breath at her constant mischievous techniques. How was he supposed to back her up when she takes matters into her own hands and leaves his sight?

He ran through the non-moving traffic and spots Santana running just around another alley on the guy's tail.

She begins to run into a sprint as their suspect hits a dead end with a fence. He jumps up on and just as he's about to get over she catches him by the end of his jacket and pulls him off the fence. He hits the floor hard on his back and as she's about to flip him over to cuff him, he kicks her in the stomach and it feels as if her lungs have been ripped out of her body.

He frantically gets up and jump up on a dumpster close by and hops over the fence. He runs down the rest of the alley, checking back and forth to see if she's following him and by the time he turns around he's met with a huge tackle and he lands on his stomach with a grunt.

"You crazy bitch," he grumbles as she smirks, cuffing his wrists behind his back.

"Yeah, that's what they all say," she breaths out with a smile. "You're under arrest, anything you say or do will be held against you in the court of law," she read off his rights and just as she pulls him up by the metal chain her partner comes to a halt in front of them with their car.

She tosses him into the back and earns a stern look from her partner. "Don't start Chad," she challenges, getting into the passenger seat and instead of scolding her, he lets her be, knowing he won't get anywhere by telling her the protocol.

As far as they were both concerned, she brought the fire when the suspect wasn't going down easy and there were times where she'd put herself at risk, okay she puts herself in danger all the time, but she just needed to get the guy, even if it meant jeopardizing her safety in the process.

Chad just really cared about her, like the sister he never had. Granted he's been at this job longer at thirty five, but he just felt like her recklessness could cost them their jobs, yet at the same time, he knew that Santana bided by the rules, however she just bended them enough to get her man, so he really never complained much, till it had them running around the city.

...

Santana is now twenty five and all her goals she set for herself have happened. She passed her CPA test and got her Bachelor's degree in criminal law and successfully completed enough courses to get a degree in Accounting, although she was still unsure as to why you needed that to be in the FBI, but at any rate, she wasn't one to disappoint, so she managed to graduate top of her class, just to be damn sure she was right for the job.

An agent by the age of twenty five was her dream and she couldn't be more proud of her life. She didn't have much room to date though, seeing as her job was rather demanding in all aspects of the word. Girls just assumed she couldn't commit and for a while that could be considered the truth, but that just didn't seem like it covered it all.

She steps into the shooting rage, through the workout area, where she sees some of her fellow agents, trying to wrestle and battle it out to keep up their masculinity, but she never paid any mind to it—because why would she?

Stepping into her box she places her smartphone on her playlist, and all sorts of degrading lyrics start barreling through the headphones as she sets up her mark.

Break me down, you got a lovely face
We're going to your place, and now you got to freak me out
Scream so loud, getting fuckin' laid
You want me to stay but I got to make my way

Squeezing the trigger, Santana fires several rounds, knowing she's hit her marks—she's that confident. She drops the empty rounds and reloads her gun, firing yet again, feeling in her element and how each force of the gun brings her so much clarity.

It's strange really, after high school and she hit college, everything just change; physically and emotionally. She grew unattached to people and girlfriends especially, because like she had expected, no one ever stayed in contact, well that is until Brittany called halfway into her freshman year.

They rebuilt their friendship from the ground up and Brittany had to basically relearn Santana all over again. Physically Santana looked pretty much the same, but emotionally, she just wasn't completely there, and she really couldn't figure out why.

She lives in a one bedroom apartment, no roommate and no pets; not even a fish. She knew the demands of this job required complete and undivided attention. She wasn't proud of being a loner, but she was pretty fucking proud of her job. She got to save people every day, what could be better than that? Plus, even though she didn't have anyone to share her success with, it didn't mean random hookups were completely out of the question, because she had them. Oh did she have them—with her partner Chad Harris, there was no way in hell she could not have a hookup.

He was the kind of guy that didn't realize his hookup days should be long gone, but when he did, well he turned into her wingman and suddenly girls were crawling all over her, wanting to see her gun, which in turn sounded a little more suggestive than it should.

Hey! You're a crazy bitch
But you fuck so good I'm on top of it
When I dream I'm doing you all night
Scratches all down my back to keep me right on

Santana sighs and reloads her third round, before firing off a few and hitting her next mark. She mostly did this to unwind from a case that she just completed, which in turn means it's a stress reliever.

She suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder, snapping her back to reality and twisting around with her gun up in firing mode.

"Oh holy shit! Put that down right now!" she pulls her ear buds out and smirks, keeping it up. "I mean it Santana," she rolls her eyes and lowers her gun and her partner breathes a sigh of relief.

"Oh c'mon Chad, you really thought I was going to shoot you, you know me better than that," she exclaims, pushing the button to bring her paper forward. She pops it off the hinges and Chad notices the marks range from the head to the chest and his eyes widen in amazement. "Yeah it's lucky that it's not a full body picture," she adds, giving him a slight devilish smile.

He narrows his eyes and shakes his head. "You hate the male species that much you want to destroy the guy's chance of ever giving life?" He asks dramatically and she blinks a few times, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Chad, it's a piece of paper," she tells him, tossing it at him then walks off as he follows in suit.

"Okay, okay fine, but that doesn't totally answer my question," she sighs and stops her walk and looks at him.

"I don't hate them, I just prefer that they weren't in such close proximity unless I'm beating the shit out of them," she turns to him as he just sighs. Her attitude is something he's grown use to and he had to admit that in a way, having her around as been amazing. He liked to consider her one of his best friends and she would say the same about him.

"Oh hey, the Chief wanted to see us about a new case, something about we seem to be perfect for it," he shrugs and she nods as they run up the stairs into the offices. She walks through as Chad follows behind, knowing people are eyeing the target paper carefully.

They make their way over to the Chief and she knocks on his office door and looks in.

"Come on in," he ushers with his hand, swiveling in his chair as Chad comes in behind Santana. They stand there as the Chief gets up and shuts the door behind them. He pulls a file out and places it in front of them.

"First and foremost, I'd like to say congratulations on getting our suspect as always," he smiles and they nod; Santana isn't one to gloat in her accomplishments. "Now down to business, we've gotten a call for a missing lawyer. She's been missing for about a week and her neighbor only now called it in because they thought perhaps she had been on vacation, but when one of her co-workers stopped by her apartment it seemed as though, the speculations of her having gone missing seemed more evident, so now I find it rather important because she's pretty high profiled, so I thought you two would be perfect to look into this full force," he briefs them and they nod along with him, opening the profile to the front page to the name and a photo of her.

Santana's eyes widen at the letters and the picture that came with it.

Fabray, Quinn.

Her breath hitches in her throat and she shakes her head in disbelief.

This cannot be happening, she thinks as her eyes continue to rack over the front page of the profile. She looks up to the two men and they are watching her carefully. She closes her eyes and nods frantically.

"Okay sir, we'll get right on it," she composes herself just enough to walk out, leaving Chad to grab the profile and he tosses the target into the garbage on the way out.

She frantically walks away from him as he calls behind her, but she ignores him. It just seemed so hard to believe that in her life this would ever happen. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that she'd have to look for someone from her past and not just anyone, but one of her best friends. She's been gone a week, who's to say she's even alive?

Santana you can't think that way.

Santana walks into the bathroom and locks it behind her, taking in deep breaths to control her lungs from giving out. She runs her hand through her hair and throws a punch against the bathroom wall. She's angry because maybe, just maybe if she spent more time with Quinn and they remained close, maybe she could've prevented this.

She sits on the floor and as hard as she tries the tears end up seeping out of her close eyelids. She knew if she let her emotions get the best of her in front of everyone she'd be off the case. There is a certain code where if you know the person personally somehow, they force you to remain out of it and she couldn't let that happen. She had to find her.

She pulls her phone out and goes through her contacts to locate the person who always seemed to calm her down. She listens to it ring and then they pick up.

"Hey San!" she hears the happy tone of Brittany on the line and it brings a smile to her face.

"Hey," she breaths out, her voice visibly cracking because of the new information that she was just given. Yeah, Quinn was right; she and Brittany would never part completely.

"San, what's going on? What's wrong? Did you get hurt? Do I need to travel to New York?" Brittany panics and Santana chuckles at her urgency.

"No, no I'm fine. I got kicked in the stomach, but it was nothing. I just got a new case and it's really hitting home for me. I needed to hear your voice," she whispers to her softly and Brittany takes a seat in the dance studio; she practically lives there, always has. She was about to go on tour with Britney Spears, so she had to practice up, plus she was a little concerned people were going to confuse them, but she wasn't going to worry too much about it.

"What do you mean?" Brittany asks, lifting her legs up to her chin and Santana sighs through the receiver, running her hand through her hair again.

"Britt, it's Quinn—my new case is Quinn," she breaks down again and Brittany's eyes widen, her mouth drops and she doesn't know how to calm Santana down after this. She was one of her best friends too and she still considered her special to her, even if they didn't communicate much.

"San," her voice cracks a little as well as she listens to Santana cry on the other end. She wants to be strong for her friend, but how can she when there was a chance their best friend will never be seen again?

"San you gotta be strong, if anyone can find her, it's you," she tries and Santana sighs deeply.

"How do you know? Britt, she's been missing a week, what if I never find her?" She asks negatively and Brittany grimaces at the thought.

"Because I know your strength and your heart. Besides, look at that Elizabeth Smart girl. She was missing for like a year or something and she was found, it's always possible and plus you know Quinn better than anybody, you'll find her," Brittany encourages and Santana begins to think Brittany is right.

It's been seven years, but who knows Quinn better than her, besides Brittany? That's nobody. She imagined she hasn't changed much and with that, she was convinced that she had to do everything in her power to not only hide that she knows Quinn, but to actually find her…and alive.

So first chapters are always difficult to write and this was no different. However, I promise this will get better AND this will be my first full length Quinntana story, so go easy on me guys. Let me know what you think and I'll try to get the new chapter up soon.