Rachel Berry was pissed! She was furious! Mr. Schue decided at the last moment to give the Girls Just Wanna Have Fun solo to Tina. Tina! Again! He said it suited her voice and personality better. It was just spite on his part. It had to be, even though she couldn't come up with an event that might have caused it. Never mind. She'll find it, if she just thinks hard enough and long enough.

It was Saturday morning, her music book store day. Mr. Schue mentioned he'd be working on some arrangements at school, so Rachel decided to go there first and confront him, demand an explanation for a clearly biased and irrational decision. She was so angry, she decided to look the part - no makeup, no lipstick, disheveled hair, tight jeans, tight white blouse, sneakers.

She strode right into the choir room, saw him at the piano. He turned and smiled. "Hi Rachel." He too was in jeans and sneakers, wearing a light green polo shirt, and turned to face her. He looked much younger than usual and seemed slightly nervous and vulnerable.

"Mr. Schue, I want to talk about …" she began purposefully, from ten feet away, but didn't continue. He'd stopped smiling, but just sat there gazing softly at her, as though he'd never seen her before but very much wanted to meet her. She walked up to him slowly, almost as in a trance, looking him in the eyes the whole time, but with an expression that was clearly changing from tensed to relaxed. He rose, put his hands on her waist, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She kissed back harder, fiercely, her arms grappling at his shoulders and neck, kissing his neck, his ears, his cheeks, his mouth. She was a young lioness trying to bring down her first gazelle, unsure where exactly to bite and tear. His kisses were practiced, landing with authority on the most erogenous parts of bare flesh he could access, including and especially just above the low cut of her blouse, on the tops of her curves. Two volcanoes were erupting simultaneously from months of suppressed passions. After about five minutes of mad kissing and groping, mouths and hands everywhere, having lifted her off the floor by her ass, he slid her down tight against his groin.

"Oh fuck," she cried when she came, which made him release as well. Weak, they collapsed beside each other on the piano bench, panting hard.

"My god, what did I just do?" he asked the universe.

"You did what any gentleman must do in the circumstances. You recognized what a lady wanted and needed and you gave it to her," absolving him of all crimes, legal and ethical, while resting her head against his shoulder.

"Wanted and needed since when?"

"Since the first moment I saw you. And you?"

"Since the first time I heard you sing."

"Why today?"

"Everything converged, I guess. We were alone, you didn't look like a schoolgirl, you looked lovely and sexy and wild, you were angry, which was erotic, but then stopped being angry as though you'd picked up a subliminal signal from me, you came to me, you looked at me. God, Rachel, do you have any idea what you are, what you do to men?"

"I'm not quite as naïve and virginal as I might've led some people around here to believe. I go to summer theater camp. It's a cesspool of sexual depravity."

"So, you had a summer affair with a co-star?"

"A director, actually. It was kinda hot, a real fuckfest."

"Sorry, I should've known better, especially after this morning." He smiled, partly at her in admiration, partly at himself for being such an amusing dope, then kissed her lovingly.

"Listen, you can have the solo back. I'll give Tina something else."

"Oh, who cares? I think I've been making these big ados about nothing as an excuse to interact with you emotionally, subconsciously hoping for what happened today. Anyway, after tonight, you'll have to treat me worse at school so we don't raise suspicions."

"Tonight? What's tonight?" he asked with a cautious smile.

"Tonight's another solo you gave dear little T-t-tina, you bastard. As you can see, I'd forgotten all about it," laughing and kissing his cheek. "Seriously though, very, very, seriously, we'll go to the music store, even if we're recognized there it'll seem okay, we'll get sandwiches and eat in the park, we'll go to your apartment, we'll make love, make dinner, make love again. I hope you can put up with me. I'm a very horny teenage girl and I'm crazy about you."

"Crazy" was the operative word, all right. Will Schuester had fallen in love. It was insane, but that's what real love always is.