A/N: Hey guys, first time writing a 'fic' so be gentle! I'm trying out a new story, set in the future, and hopefully it won't be the most predictable storyline but I'm learning. Reviews would be nice and any suggestions are fully welcome. Enjoy! :)

Based on the song 'You'd Be Surprised' by Idina Menzel. It's a beautiful song so please listen to it (I'm sure it's out there on YouTube somewhere).

Grace xx

'Oh my God' she chanted countless times through her head. 'Oh my god, oh my god'

Rachel had a visitor, but she knew exactly who was coming... what was coming.

Rifling manically through her costume rack, she searched for something to wear. Rachel Berry was always prepared and presentable. A person who she'd never kept in contact with couldn't change that. Could he? No. Yes. What?

She gasped at how reckless she was being. Rachel was a big girl now, a big star, even. Yet here she was acting like a hormonal teenager... again.

Suddenly the dressing room door swung open.

There he stood. The only one to ever leave Rachel speechless.

She dropped the dress she was currently holding in front of her to reveal her tiny piece of cloth, that you could call a dress. As it tumbled to the floor, his eyes raked from where the dress was on the
floor and started scanning his way up her long, lean legs, past her stomach, over her enticing collarbone and finally traced those chiselled cheekbones to meet the dark, almost jet black, pools of her eyes.

Her breath hitched in her throat as their eyes met.

They stayed like this for what seemed like hours but could have only been in reality minutes. Him in his masterful, masculine stance and her seemingly helpless frame. She couldn't help but admire his power, the confidence that exuded from his very being. That's what attracted her to him at the beginning and it wasn't about to change now.

Finally she took a step forward. "Hello..." she stammered out, only to be cut off by his movement towards her. It wasn't fast but it wasn't too hesitant either. He knew what he wanted and she knew that. And oh how she wanted him, not necessarily sexually (although that did crop up once or twice... Okay regularly) but mentally. She had needed his protection, his warmth and his comfort for so long now it seemed like second nature.

He slammed the door behind him, making her jump, even frightening her momentarily. She may not show it but she loved this, his control over her. The way she knew where she stood with him, maybe if not in the best place all the time. Nevertheless, she loved it. Loved him? That was a tough one...she'll get back to that.

Before she knew it her arms were round his neck, his hands roaming her waist. The heat formed when their bodies touched was formidable. Lips never touching. He was almost teasing her. The way they moved together was perfect, almost like they fitted. She couldn't concentrate, only on the way her body reacted to his, the way it felt so right, even if it was so wrong...

He gently forced her backwards towards the vanity that stood on the other side of the room, still not granting her the pleasure of his mouth on hers. Instead, their ragged breaths covered eachother's
faces, sometimes his on her chest, but the only physical contact was their hands.

Once she hit the edge of the table, he hoisted her so she was sitting on it and him in between her legs.

But this wasn't passionate or even desperate. He was gentle, loving. It was like he was memorizing her body, but not the obvious parts. He took in the way her arms moved as his nose traced it's way over her shoulder. He saw how her spine arched into his warmth. He felt her legs draw lazy circles on the back of his calves. But more than anything, he noticed her face. The way her eyebrows furrowed with obvious need. The way her lips gently tilted into varying degrees of smiles every time they caught each other's eyes. Her beautifully done stage makeup highlighting those unforgettable cheekbones. Even how she developed tiny goose bumps on the back of her neck as he stroked her
face with the pads of his thumbs.

She was perfect. Perfect for him anyway. Her crazy balanced out his laid back attitude and he loved her for it. Yeah, he wasn't afraid... he loved her!

She knew as soon as the glint entered his eyes that this was it. What she'd been waiting for.

Slowly, oh so slowly he inches further into her lips. Drawing it out for as long as possible. They tingled as his brushed over them, moving gradually to each eyelid, her nose and then finally capturing her lips in a real kiss.

She felt alive.

He felt relieved.

She kissed back. Hard. It got rougher as it progressed. He tugged at her bottom lip while he held her close with one hand, the other clutching hers that was resting on his toned chest. Soon she was resting against her mirror, their joined hands splayed against the cool surface and casting patches of mist over it.

His hands were everywhere. Pinning hers to the walls, fisting her long, luxurious hair, massaging her sides, caressing her face. As he travelled down her neck, the fog cleared from Rachel's mind. Her eyes flew wide open as realisation hit home hard and fast. She struggled to push him off her collarbone and stop him from sucking on that sweet, sensitive pulse point that she found so mesmerizing.

"This is wrong... S-so wr-rong!"

He groaned at her truthful words. Hands still tracing circles on her jaw line, his eyes locked with hers. She reached up to grasp his wrist... And that's when he noticed it. The simple gold band fastened around her wedding finger. It saddened him to think it wasn't him who put it there. He couldn't tear his eyes from it.

Following his line of gaze, she settled on her ring. She then stared intently on his face, searching for any signs of emotion from him. Just the one, she concluded, and it sickened her to know she caused it.

Regret.

She knew he loved her and yes, she'll say it, she loved him. But he lied to her. And that's not what she needed. She needed stability, which is ironic seeing as her now fiancée was hardly ever there, and even when he was, he was never truly this caring for her. But he was faithful to her, which is all she ever wanted. Wasn't it? It must be. It had to be.

"I'm sorry," he whispered almost too quietly for it to be audible. When he saw the confused look on her face, her cheeks flushed and hair beautifully cascading down her shoulders and pushed up by the mirror he couldn't resist. He was hers.

His lips crashed down onto hers and she gasped with the sudden intrusion. Their foreheads were touching as she saw the tear roll down his cheek, breathing heavily in tune with her. He peppered her jaw line with tender kisses and immediately found that spot on her neck that pleased her most.

One of her hands cradled his head as the other dragged down his back, head presses firmly into the mirror behind her as she desperately gasped for air, for control. She sighed as his head rested on her
shoulder and his body shook from silent tears.

Pressing a kiss onto his temple, she took his head into her hands and rested it against her chest.

A tear leaked out of her eyes as she fought to get herself together for the man that needed her so badly in her arms, forgetting about the one that currently sat at home, not bothering to turn up to watch her perform.

"I love you... More than you could ever know" he murmured.

Her heart burst as she closed her eyes tight, desperately trying to just hold onto this moment when everything was perfect.

Her head fell back onto the mirror as her eyes opened and gazed at the opposite table where she knew a photo of her and the one she held at this moment was stowed away. There for safekeeping, to remind her of what could've been. No, could be.

"And I love you, all of you, always" she whispered huskily, throat raw from held back tears.

His head shot up, frantically searching for signs that she was lying. Signs that this really was too good to be true. She loved him? Not that douche of a fiancée? No avail, total 100% utter truth.

He took her delicate face into his hands and wiped away the lingering tear from her cheek. Her tiny hands rested on his broad chest, gripping at his shirt. He leant in to touch his forehead with hers.

"Rachel..."

"Noah..."

"Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?" an
unfamiliar voice sounded from across the room.

A/N: Suggestions?