a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere, a glee fanfic

Title: a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
Author: texaswatermelon
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel Berry/Cassandra July
Rating: M
Summary: But for one fleeting moment, Rachel thinks of Miss July, and wonders what her expression would look like if she were here to hear this news.
Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. No infringement intended.
Word Count: 5,754
A/N: Post 4x21. Anything during season four is fair fic is dedicated to all of my wonderful followers, who stick with me despite my continuous bullshit. You guys are the best. And this is long overdue, but I wanted to say thank you to all of the people who commented/favorited/followed my previous Julyberry story. Yes, there is a third one in the works. No, I do not know when it will be done, but be patient, my children.

Unbeta'd as usual, so all mistakes are my own. Tile from Death Cab For Cutie's "Soul Meets Body".

When Rachel gets the call from the producer of Funny Girl telling her that she got the part of Fanny Brice, she almost thinks that her own eardrums are going to explode from the sheer frequency of her squeals. Luckily, she's at home when it happens, so the only other people who have to suffer the noise are Kurt and Santana, but Kurt is so busy jumping around the apartment and squealing with her that he doesn't actually care.

"Jesus, Berry, how the hell am I supposed to become an international singing sensation if you melt my brain with your banshee wail?" Santana grumbles, but it's all in good fun and she pulls out a bottle of tequila she had saved for a rainy day and they toast Rachel's success.

When she thinks about it a few shots later while Kurt and Santana are dancing like idiots to that horrible Gangnam song, she feels suddenly disoriented. She doesn't understand how this can happen, how dreams can just magically come true like this. She is Rachel Berry: a young girl from Nowhere, Ohio who has two gay dads and a dysfunctional relationship with her mother, who is making absolutely no one's list of America's Most Beautiful Women, who knows what it feels like to have at least a hundred outfits stained beyond saving by slushie syrup, who trusts too easily and talks too quickly and sings too loudly and loves too boldly and feels so strongly that there's more emotion than can actually fit inside of her tiny body and sometimes she feels like she's going to burst from the pressure of it all.

And yet here she is, in the city of her dreams, in an apartment with a boy who was always supposed to be her greatest rival and a girl who never had anything but the most scathing remarks to say to her, and both of them are drunkenly celebrating her achievements right now. She got into the most prestigious musical theatre school in the country and now she's landed her dream role—the role that she was born for, the one that has mattered most all her life—at the ripe old age of eighteen. And Rachel has always known that she was destined for greatness, but the reality of it actually taking shape in front of her, and so quickly, too, is almost more than she can bear in her inebriated state.

The song finally changes, and Santana grabs her by the hand and pulls her up off of the chair, twirls her around until she's dizzy, and Rachel finally snaps back into reality. But for one fleeting moment, Rachel thinks of Miss July, and wonders what her expression would look like if she were here to hear this news.

She's on her way out of her Broadway history class when she practically collides headlong with the solid, lithe body of Cassie July.

"Oh my God, Miss July, I'm so sorry!" she spews immediately, and maybe all those months of hounding and verbal abuse can't be magically erased by a thoughtful dance routine and some encouraging words, because Rachel feels her chest seize with dread and prepares for the onslaught of insults she expects to receive.

But Cassie places a steadying hand on her shoulder and her face turns up in an amused smirk.

"All those months of public humiliation and I see I still haven't managed to teach you to watch where you're going, Schwimmer," she says lightly.

Rachel feels her cheeks grow hot, but she also breaks out into a smile at the realization that Cassie isn't actually going to yell at her. She wonders if Cassie has always been like this—if this wry, smiling, good-natured person was the real Cassie all along, and all of the attitude and biting remarks were just an act to get them to understand the harsh realities of Broadway. The person she's been dealing with all these months was a lie, like a film distorting her vision, and now it's been peeled away and there's this brand new human being standing in front of her that she's never met before. She feels the sudden, pressing urge to get to know this woman, and wonders exactly how she can make that happen.

"So, word around the rumor mill is that NYADA's got a new star among its ranks. Congratulations, Schwimmer. I told you that part was yours," Cassie says with a proud twinkle in her eyes. Rachel wonders if she's doomed to be perpetually blushing at every word that comes out of her teacher's mouth.

"Thank you so much," she says gracefully. "I honestly feel like I owe some part of it to you. You made me push myself to new heights, to do everything in my power to be better just so I could prove that I have what it takes. You made me realize that I wasn't owed fame, and that my dream wasn't going to just fall into my lap. So thank you, Miss July, really."

Cassie's expression is mostly unreadable, and there's a panoply of emotions that flashes across her eyes in the span of a second. Rachel thinks she sees pain register there for a moment, but then it flickers away and she can't decipher any of it again.

"Don't credit me, Schwimmer. I didn't do anything except run my mouth, and trust me when I say that that comes naturally to me," Cassie says wryly. "Anyway, you already thanked me. That cane you gave me is getting plenty of use torturing people through their midterms."

Rachel snorts softly and grins, searches for something witty to say in return, but something about Cassie's soft green gaze makes her unable to find any words. She fears that Cassie will grow tired of the silence and leave, and for some reason that prospect seems like a punishment worse than death, but it turns out that Cassie is full of surprises lately.

"Are you busy right now? Let me take you out for a celebratory coffee."

Rachel thinks she must be gaping like a fish judging by the way Cassie's grinning at her, and she trips over her own tongue trying to accept the invitation. Cassie just smirks, throws her arm around Rachel's shoulders, and leads her out into the city.

It isn't until after they've parted ways almost two hours later (and keeping a conversation going with Cassie is actually way easier than she thought it would be; Cassie is a surprisingly good storyteller) that Rachel suddenly realizes that her Broadway history class is in an entirely different building than the dance studios, nowhere near the vicinity of Cassie's office or anywhere else she would usually be. Which means that Cassie not only went there with the express purpose of seeking Rachel out and congratulating her, but she also went to the trouble of looking up Rachel's schedule so that she could intercept her after class on a day when Rachel would have plenty of time to go for coffee and have a chat. The mere though of it makes Rachel's face split into a grin and her heart pound in her chest.

Since it's physically impossible for Rachel to not overanalyze every little thing that happens in her life, she decides to seek out her roommates' opinions. Santana's eyes narrow suspiciously when Rachel recounts the story.

"Berry, are you telling me that you've got the hots for a chick?" she grouses.

"No, that's not what I'm saying!" Rachel says hastily. "I mean, Cassie is incredibly attractive, of course, and I've always thought that a Sapphic exploit would be perfect acting experience, but…" She stops her rambling when it looks like Santana's going to stab her in the neck with her nail file. "I'm just asking what you guys think it means."

"Maybe I'll have to swing by NYADA one of these days and have a little chat with this Miss July. I have impeccable gaydar," Santana says confidently.

The thought of Santana walking into the dance studio in one of her skintight dresses with her breasts put on display and shamelessly flirting with Cassie makes the acid in Rachel's stomach roil and she wonders if maybe she really does have a crush on her dance teacher.

"I don't think that will be necessary Santana, but thank you," she says evenly, and Santana shrugs.

"Suit yourself, Berry."

"Well, I've met the woman and I can honestly say that she doesn't strike me as the type to go out of her way for anyone. I couldn't believe it when you told me that she set up that little rally for you before your callback, and now she's making special trips to take you out to coffee?" Kurt asks dubiously. "Either she's been an incredibly generous person this entire time and she's just the world's best actress, or she's setting you up for something horrific."

The idea that Cassie might be going to great lengths to scheme against her hadn't crossed Rachel's mind, but now that Kurt mentions it, she feels this awful fear creep up inside of her and seize her chest. Cassie has made a remarkably abrupt turnaround in her attitude towards Rachel, and years of experience with mean girls in high school are telling her that there has to be some sort of sinister agenda at work.

But then Rachel thinks of the raw emotions displayed in Cassie's eyes during their last few encounters: the pure mirth when she sang to Rachel, the sincerity when she assured Rachel that she would get the part, and the intense pride when she congratulated Rachel on the news. And Rachel will never forget the look on Cassie's face after she finished singing "Uptight", when Rachel caught her eyes over the heads of the students crowded around her just as Cassie disappeared through the doorway, and that sad, nostalgic look that hit Rachel like a ton of bricks and made her truly appreciate for the first time just how alike they were, and how devastating it must have been for Cassie to watch all of her dreams fade away.

You can't fake those things, Rachel thinks. You can't imitate what it looks like when you're forced to look at the one thing you want most in this world being dangled directly in front of your face, but hovering just out of reach; that feeling of loss so acute that it feels like an icepick to the heart. Maybe she's naïve, but Rachel truly believes that whatever this version of Cassie is that she's meeting now, it's the real deal.

She decides this just as Santana declares, "You never know, Lady Hummel. Maybe she really is trying to get into Gay Berry's pants," and she swears this is the last time she ever asks these two assholes for their opinion.

About a month into rehearsals, Rachel finds herself camped out in the dance studio again late at night, running lines to herself in the mirror. She's been struggling with some of them lately, and she feels inexplicably drawn to this place in her time of frustration. She's always known that her singing is stronger than her acting, but she's literally seen Funny Girl a hundred times and she knows it all by heart, so this shouldn't be such an issue for her. The trouble is that while she needs to emulate Barbra to an extent, she also has to deliver the lines in her own voice rather than just parrot the original, and it's proving challenging to strike the right balance.

"You do know that this isn't your personal rehearsal space, right Schwimmer?" a voice says from the doorway and scares the absolute shit out of her.

"Cassie," she says breathlessly, whirling around to face her, and Rachel will never understand how Cassie can make a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater look so attractive, but being startled isn't the only thing making it hard for her to breathe. "I'm sorry. I can leave."

"It's fine, Schwimmer," Cassie says easily, and walks towards her. "Clearly no one else is using it right now. I'm just surprised you'd want to practice here, of all places."

Rachel blushes and glances down at the floor.

"It's kind of inspiring, I guess." At Cassie's inquisitive eyebrow, she chuckles and continues. "This is the room where I worked harder than I've ever worked in my life. This is where I overcame some of my greatest challenges. Knowing what I've accomplished in this room reminds me that I can do anything I set my mind to."

Cassie seems like she doesn't really know what to say to that, which is another accomplishment Rachel can add to her list.

"How are rehearsals going?" she asks instead, and Rachel blows out a heavy breath and sets her script down on top of the piano.

"They're great. Everyone in the cast is so talented and it's all so exciting. Sometimes I can't really believe it's all happening."

"If it's so exciting, then why do you need to come here to be inspired?" Cassie asks with a knowing smirk.

"I'm having trouble with some of my lines," Rachel laughs with a self-deprecating smile.

"Well it's been a while, but I'm pretty sure I still remember how to run lines. Show me what you've got and I'll see if I can help you work out the kinks."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Rachel says hurriedly. "It's so late and I'm sure you have better things to do."

"It's fine, Schwimmer," Cassie says with a smile—a real, warm smile that makes Rachel's heart swell to see it. "I've got plenty of time."

So Cassie starts making an effort to stop by the studio at night to help Rachel run her lines, and God she's so good it makes Rachel angry to think that she's not up on stage headlining her own show. It's literally a crime against humanity for Cassie to not be performing for all the world to see. It's almost like she goes into a trance while she's acting, and she's so raw and impassioned that Rachel finds herself mesmerized on a regular basis. When their sessions are over and it's time to go home, Rachel catches the wistful, longing look in Cassie's eyes, and she knows that Cassie is doing this for herself as much as she's doing it to help Rachel.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Rachel blurts out one night while they're taking a break, and she immediately wishes she could take the question back when Cassie turns to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Doesn't what hurt, Schwimmer?"

Rachel takes a deep breath and considers her next words carefully.

"This," she says, gesturing vaguely between them. "Being here, running lines with me. Helping me achieve something that should be yours."

Cassie actually looks surprised by the question, and she stares at Rachel for so long that Rachel grows uncomfortable and starts to fidget.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business," Rachel says, and starts rifling through her bag just to give herself something to do so she doesn't have to look at Cassie anymore.

"It hurts," Cassie says hoarsely after another minute, and Rachel looks up to find that excruciating expression on Cassie's face again. "It feels like shoveling a pile of salt into a gaping, festering wound."

"Then why are you doing it?" Rachel asks, struggling over the lump in her throat.

Suddenly, Cassie is in front of her, and Rachel doesn't know how she moved so fast or how she's expected to function when Cassie is directly on top of her, eliminating any concept of personal space and holding Rachel's face between her hands and gazing down at her with such intensity that Rachel feels the burn of it all the way to her core.

"Because you're amazing, Rachel," Cassie says with urgent intensity. "Because you have a talent and a drive that is once in a lifetime. Because you're everything that I should have been, and I missed my chance, but I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you miss yours. Because it's been ten years of nothing but misery and self-loathing and drowning my sorrows, and you are the first person in all that time who's made me feel like maybe I still have something left to give. You give me hope, Rachel, and it's been so long since I've felt it that I almost don't recognize it, but it's worth every second of feeling like my lungs are going to collapse to watch you conquer this world, because you are the best I've ever seen."

There are hot tears streaking down Rachel's cheeks, running over Cassie's hands where they're still holding onto Rachel's face like it's an anchor, and the way Cassie's looking at her, like she's the center of Cassie's whole world, Rachel doesn't need Santana to tell her that there's more to what they have than just teacher and student. Cassie is crying, too, just these silent, tragic tears that trail prettily down her face and make her eyes sparkle, and of course she even looks gorgeous when she's crying. Rachel wants nothing more than to take Cassie into her arms and never let go, to soothe away all of the pain and protect her from all of the awful things in this world. But she can't breathe and she can't move. All she can do is stand there and squeeze her eyes shut as Cassie leans forward and sears Rachel's forehead with a lingering kiss that Rachel will feel the ghost of for the rest of her life.

Cassie is long gone by the time Rachel finally reopens her eyes, and she stares at the empty space for a very long time, gasping for air that her lungs can't seem to find.

Kurt looks like he's having a mini-stroke when she tells them about it two weeks later.

"She said what?" he squawks, and clutches at his heart like it's physically paining him when she repeats the conversation one more time. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

"It took me a week to convince myself that it actually happened and I wasn't just dreaming," Rachel explains. "And I've been waiting to see if anything else happens. But I haven't seen her at all since then. She stopped showing up at the studio."

Santana shakes her head. "Hold on, Berry, how are you actually getting more pussy than me right now?"

"Santana!" Rachel snaps, but Santana just rolls her eyes.

"Look, take it from me: if she's avoiding you, it's because she's scared," she says seriously.

"Scared of what?" Rachel asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Who the hell knows?" Santana shrugs. "Scared of how she feels about you, scared of personifying a song by The Police, scared of becoming your latest fixation and having her name hanging around your neck on one of those hideous necklaces you love so much…take your pick."

Kurt shoots a glare in Santana's direction at the last part and then turns his attention back to Rachel.

"El Diablo might be right, Rachel. There's obviously a reason she disappeared after making a confession like that. I'm not saying you two will have picket fences in your future or anything, but if there's a chance of something happening between you two, you can't just let her slip away."

She hovers in the doorway of Cassie's office for several minutes, watching Cassie flick through and reorganize the clothing rack behind her desk, before she finally works up the courage to knock. Cassie turns her head slowly, almost like she already knows who's at her door, and indeed she doesn't look the least bit surprised to see Rachel standing there.

"Schwimmer," she says calmly, and continues flicking through the clothes. "What's up?"

"I haven't seen you in a while," Rachel says carefully. "I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything's fine. I've just been busy lately," Cassie replies, which is the shittiest attempt at a lie Rachel's ever heard.

"Are you sure you're not just avoiding me after everything that happened last time," Rachel says pointedly.

"Schwimmer," Cassie growls immediately, tossing a look of warning over her shoulder.

"Look, we don't have to talk about it, okay? I just…I miss having you there with me. And we've started dance routines, and I could really use your input."

It's kind of a low blow asking Cassie for help just to get her to show up again, but it's not like Rachel couldn't use the improvement anyway. Cassie finally stops what she's doing and turns around to face Rachel with a sigh. She looks weary and tired, like she hasn't slept since Rachel last saw her. Maybe Santana's right. Maybe she really is scared of something.

"Alright, Schwimmer, I'll see what I can do," she says finally.

Rachel beams and bounces over to throw her arms around Cassie's neck. The smell of her is intoxicating, and all she wants to do is bury her face in Cassie's shoulder and never let go. But she's made a small victory here today and she doesn't want to jeopardize that, so she pulls away quickly, thanks Cassie quietly, and sees herself out.

Cassie starts showing up again, and they don't talk about what happened before, and everything is pretty much the same except that Rachel is now acutely aware of the intense energy between them, which the term "sexual tension" doesn't even begin to cover. They start going over some of Rachel's more difficult choreography, and Cassie actually shows up to several of the rehearsals so that she can see it all in action and take notes. Rachel is really touched that Cassie is willing to go to such lengths to help her. She says as much, but Cassie just brushes it off and tells Rachel that she enjoys scrutinizing the choreographer's mediocre work.

Rachel is mentally and physically exhausted all the time. She's working her ass off for this show, and she knows it's paying off, but she's not getting much rest and she looks like hell. Cassie actually tells her that she can afford to take a break from their late night practice sessions, but Rachel refuses to sacrifice their time together, even if it means she ends up dropping dead on stage. But Cassie is stubborn and knows how to get her way, so she gradually reduces the amount of time that they're actually practicing and increases the amount of time that they spend talking or fooling around, singing and dancing to random songs like idiots.

She pulls Rachel up off of her ass one night and twirls her around to an old Paula Abdul song, and Rachel is breathless and laughing by the time the song ends and Cassie pulls her back. The momentum is a little too much and Rachel can't seem to stop herself before she collides with Cassie's body. Cassie wraps her arms around Rachel's waist to steady her, and they're pressed so tightly together and Cassie's eyes are so dark that Rachel can't bring herself to step away.

Cassie's breath is sweet and heavy against Rachel's face. Rachel brings her hand up to tuck some of Cassie's hair behind her ear. Her fingertips graze gently over Cassie's cheekbone and she watches with rapt attention as Cassie's eyelids flutter shut. She feels compelled to lean up on her toes, and her mouth is only centimeters away from Cassie's when Cassie suddenly inhales sharply, opens her eyes, and pulls away slightly. Her smile is the saddest thing Rachel has ever seen and her eyes are full of regret, but her thumbs are rubbing soothingly where they still rest at Rachel's back, and the disconnect of these sensations is something that Rachel can't quite comprehend.

"I'm sorry, Schwimmer," she says quietly, and then she's heading for the door.

Rachel can't seem to find the words to convince Cassie to stay, so she watches her walk out with the heaviest sense of sorrow she's ever felt. She doesn't go back to the studio to practice after that.

She runs into Cassie every now and then at NYADA, and Cassie always smiles brightly and asks how rehearsals are going, and no one passing by would ever know just how painful these little conversations are. But Rachel knows. She sees it in the way that Cassie's smile never really reaches her eyes and how her fingers seem to twitch as if she's longing to reach out and touch Rachel, but can never bring herself to do it. Rachel doesn't know exactly what's keeping Cassie away from her, doesn't even care, actually. All she knows is that Cassie is too scared to take what she wants, and Rachel is too tired these days to try to make her. Ever ounce of her energy goes into the show, and she's starting to resign herself to the fact that she may have to sacrifice one dream of the other.

It's opening night, and Rachel feels like she's going to be sick. Her body is buzzing with nervous energy and her stomach twists and untwists in her gut like an angry serpent. Kurt, Santana, and Finn sneak backstage before the show starts to wish her luck and bring her flowers, and it's weird seeing Finn again and not feeling that pang of longing for him that used to be ever-present in her heart.

Someone with a headset calls her to the wing, and then the curtain rises and she's stepping onto the stage, and it feels like every molecule in her body suddenly snaps into place, and she's home. Everyone she loves is in the front row: her dads, Shelby, Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury—even Quinn came to see her. Rachel has never felt happier.

Halfway through the first act, she looks toward the back of the theatre and lands directly on a pair of pale green eyes. Cassie's gaze bores into her and her mouth turns up in the most sincere smile Rachel has ever seen, and Rachel's body instantly knows that it needs Cassie in the same way that it requires oxygen and food and sunlight. Rachel wishes that there was some way for her to convey this through her eyes, but she still has a show to put on. So she thinks that maybe she can convey it through her voice instead, and for the rest of the night she sings for Cassie and Cassie only. When the show is over and they take their bows and the audience claps and cheers, Rachel catches her eye again, and she knows Cassie got the message.

There's an insane crowd of fans and reporters out back, which is slightly overwhelming, because they're all there to see her. Rachel signs as many things as she can and smiles for pictures and answers a question here and there, and when she finally fights her way through, her family and friends are waiting for her. She's happy to see them, but she can't keep her eyes from wandering around, scanning the crowd, searching for Cassie. She's not there, though, and eventually Rachel lets everyone lead her to dinner to celebrate.

It's well past midnight by the time she's finally able to break away, and her first instinct is to put on a pair of shoes and head for the subway. Kurt intercepts her at the door and gives her a hard look when he realizes she's trying to leave.

"Cassie was there tonight," she explains hastily. "I have to see her, Kurt. I have to."

His eyes soften at her pleading look, and he finally nods.

"I'll take care of everyone else," he promises.

She thanks him profusely, kisses his cheek, and makes a break for it.

The ride to SoHo is long, and Rachel feels that jittery energy again as she taps her foot ceaselessly on the train. And yet, she feels strangely calm, like she's being tugged along by destiny, and at the end of the rope is something she's been waiting for her whole life.

Cassie doesn't even seem surprised when she opens her door to find Rachel standing there. She just steps aside to let Rachel in and closes the door behind her. She turns around to face Rachel, who comes to a halt directly in the center of the room, and wraps her sweater tighter around her body as if to protect herself from whatever's coming. She almost looks frail, and it's the first time that Rachel has ever thought that about her.

"You didn't stick around after the show," Rachel says, and Cassie's mouth turns down at the corners a bit.

"Your family was there," she replies, and Rachel briefly wonders if they're going to go back and forth stating the obvious all night. "I didn't want to impose. You were incredible, though."

Rachel doesn't need to be told that she was incredible. She saw it on Cassie's face during the performance. She takes a deep breath and levels Cassie with a heavy look.

"You know, I've dreamed of what tonight would be like my whole life. I used to imagine every detail, from the way the lights would feel when they hit my face to the audience's reaction when I hit certain cues and poured my heart out into the songs. I practiced my signature over and over again so that I could have it perfected when I met my adoring fans at the backstage door." Cassie manages an endeared smirk at that. "Everything about tonight—about this whole experience—was perfect. Exactly the way I imagined it would be. It's literally a dream come true. And yet none of it even matters, because the whole time I was performing, I wasn't paying attention to the lights or the audience or even my friends and family who were there to support me. I didn't care about he people asking for my autograph or snapping my picture after the show. The only thing I could think about this entire night, the only thing I've been thinking about since I landed this role, is you."

Cassie takes a shuddering breath, and Rachel can't tell if she looks pained or relieved, but her eyes are shining with unshed tears and she swallows harshly before she speaks.

"What do you want me to say, Rachel?" she says thickly. "You're the only thing I've been thinking about since that first day of class."

At one point in her life, hearing those words would have been all it took to turn Rachel's world upside down. Now, she just shakes her head.

"I don't want you to say anything," she says pointedly, and Cassie's eyes grow impossibly dark when she registers Rachel's meaning.

They meet somewhere in the middle, Cassie's hands cradling Rachel's face like it's something priceless, and Rachel sighs when their lips finally meet and meld like they were made for each other. Cassie kisses her with months, maybe even years worth of longing; kisses her like a lover she hasn't seen for a lifetime or more. Rachel feels her body grow hot all over, feels an immense pressure threaten to burst inside of her chest, and she tugs desperately at Cassie's top until they finally break away long enough to remove it. She takes a moment to run her fingers over Cassie's taught stomach, to revel in the feel of the smooth, warm skin, before Cassie takes her by the hand and leads her to the bed.

She removes Rachel's clothing one piece at a time, kissing skin as it's revealed to her—slow, soft kisses, like she's cherishing each and every one. Rachel listens to the sighs and moans that slip out of her own mouth and runs her fingers through Cassie's hair, that luxurious mane that she's been itching to touch for longer than she realized. When Cassie's mouth reaches the waistband of her underwear, Rachel feels her knees start to buckle underneath her.

Cassie scoops her up and drops her on the bed gently, and when she finally crawls over top of Rachel, she is completely naked, and Rachel feels breathless at the sight of her. Cassie peels Rachel's underwear off of her body and tosses them aside, and the weight of her gaze, the sheer amount of desire there, is almost too much for Rachel to bear. She pulls Cassie down so that their bodies are completely flush and moans at the feeling while Cassie whimpers quietly in the back of her throat and seals their mouths together once more.

They move together, slowly at first. At some point Cassie's fingers find their way inside of Rachel and Rachel cries out and clutches at Cassie's back, pulling her closer, closer, but never close enough. Her thigh is between Cassie's legs and she barely registers the wet heat that Cassie leaves there as their thrusts become more frantic, but she knows that the sound of her name catching in Cassie's throat as she moans is the most intoxicating thing she's ever heard. The fire in her belly continues to build until it finally explodes inside of her, and Rachel sobs harshly into Cassie's shoulder and digs her nails into Cassie's hips hard enough to draw blood. Maybe that's what sets Cassie off; Rachel doesn't know for sure, but Cassie is shaking violently and a strangled noise makes its way out of her throat before she finally collapses on top of Rachel and breathes heavily into her neck.

Rachel can still feel the last vestiges of her orgasm ricocheting through her body, but the weight of Cassie's boneless body on top of her is the perfect contrast to bring her down gently. She strokes Cassie's hair, scratches lightly at her scalp and holds her as close as she can. Cassie eventually rolls off of her slightly, but her arms immediately wrap around Rachel's waist and she pulls Rachel tightly into her chest.

Whatever it was that was keeping Cassie from acting on this all along, whatever her concerns are, whatever obstacles they will face…none of them matter right now. They will deal with them tomorrow, or the day after that. They will tackle them together. For now, Rachel kisses the underside of Cassie's jaw, feels Cassie's satisfied sigh brush across her cheek, and burrows down into the greatest contentment she's ever known.