This came to me while talking to a couple of my friends after asking what the Glee kids would do when they were older and this is the plot bunny that jumped out. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer for now and the rest of the story – everything you recognize isn't mine.

I'm coming home
I'm coming home
Tell the World I'm coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Tell the World that I'm coming home
Coming Home – Diddy - Dirty Money Featuring Skylar Grey

"During my time in Louisiana, I have come to find many interesting things that most people wouldn't grasp. I found solidarity, a true form of southern hospitality—"

The phone ringing beside me broke my concentration. I had been on a typing roll, quickly pushing the keys on the keyboard to have up the newest short story out of my notes. My editor had wanted me to do a piece on Louisiana after I told him of my vacation two months ago. Surely, I told him that family trips out to Alligator Country wasn't all that amusing, but I wasn't going to say no to my boss unless I wanted my head chewed out and stomped on or my job gone.

The phone rang a second time before I managed to pick up the headset. "Hello", I spoke into the piece, keeping my cool intact and my writer voice strong. "Tina Cohen-Chang."

"Miss Cohen-Chang, you have a visitor in the lobby."

I had a visitor? I rarely had visitors. My parents were still lawyers, gone to relocate to Boston while my older brother and his wife were overseas in the UK for their teaching jobs at Oxford. Instantly, I tried to figure out who it could be. My job rarely let me have time for any friends outside the work place—and the ones I used to have were long gone. We each went on our separate ways after high school ended. I haven't heard from anyone in the while.

"Who is the visitor", I asked quietly, defeated in my harrowing search through memory. Had my parents sprung a surprise visit for me? Were my siblings back in town or some seminar at NYU? I would have remembered such things—it was part of what I was career wise to be on top of things. The only thing to do now was to sit back and listen to the name. However, I was surprised to hear the name that was spoken.

"It's Rachel Berry, Miss Cohen-Chang. It's Jesse St. James's wife."

I didn't know how long I sat in shock before the receptionist spoke to catch my attention. I quickly murmured into the phone that I'd be down soon to fetch her and hung up my phone. I hadn't seen Rachel Berry or any of the other members of New Directions ever since Glee Club ended and we all graduated from high school. Two years after graduation though, the news covered that Rachel Berry was going to be the next big thing to happen to the media world—until she decided to give it all up and become a socialite and a housewife to one Jesse St. James, who is international movie star.

Now, why would she want to talk to a lowly writer like me?

I saved what I could of my story onto my USB flash drive and stood up, smoothing over my black pencil skirt. New York corporate fashion had dictated how I dressed, yes. No longer had I adorned the big black lace Victorian-esque dresses of my high school career eight years prior, but a sleek hidden touch of my youth presented itself in everything that I wore. Today, it was a black pencil skirt with heels to match and a blouse with a ruffled collar.

"Okay, let's get our game face on and roll", I whispered to myself before stepping into the elevator. The ride wasn't very long, but somehow the elevator took ages to start and go. My office was on the fifth floor of the building, but the anticipation grew with every ding that signaled a floor passing made me remember the time that our Glee club did Rocky Horror. It didn't come quicker after the memory. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I had been very keen to keep my past my past. It was easier that way—that way, I could fully accept that I was alone, that I didn't need anyone.

The elevator doors opened and I immediately recognized Rachel. She was ever so lucky, looked exactly the same from when she was younger—the spitting image of her birth mother, Shelby Corcoran. Maintaining it was easy and to be expected with a movie star husband.

"Tina", she spoke when the receptionist pointed me to her, though I recognized the double take she did. My family did the same whenever they saw my new look. It wasn't such a drastic change. I still looked scary and off-putting enough. Her arms were outstretched before they wrapped around me. I ended up awkwardly patting her back in return.

"Rachel, what a pleasant surprise", my writer voice came out again. I pulled away from her hug, stepping back to be at arm's length. It was this time that I really got a good look at her. The same toothy smile was there, making me cringe inwardly. How can anyone show that much teeth in a smile? The same look of determination was there, and that was unnerving. What could she possibly want with me? Rachel Berry oozed Slytherin to the core—when it came to ambition and doing anything to get what she wanted. By all means was she evil about anything. "What brings you to my neck of New York? Shouldn't you be lounging in your apartment on the Upper East Side?" Being a writer freed some of my inhibitions—I could tease without stuttering or blushing now.

A laugh escaped her lips and I became even more wary. Had Rachel been truly happy? The Rachel I knew in high school wouldn't have dropped Broadway for love—that was shown when she left Finn behind after he asked her to come to the University of Ohio with him. I quickly pulled out a smile from somewhere to hide my unease.

"You look very nice, Tina. It's such a departure for me to see you in these clothes. The last time I saw you, you had on our graduation gown and a black lace dress."

Okay, now that was just way too freaky, even for me.

"Could we talk in your office? It's rather important what I have to say and I want you to think about it before you give me your answer to my proposal."

That was the Rachel I knew—the one who gave out too much information under pressure. It came in quite handy during high school, and in this moment, gave me a sort of calming peace. "Sure", I replied to her, a real faint smile playing at my lips. I quickly lead her up the way I came down, right back to the elevator. The fifth floor button was pushed and the elevator went its way back up. None of us spoke, but darted glances around each other. Dare I say I was actually jealous of Rachel Berry at this point? I was jealous of her having such flawless skin while I became haggard with stress.

And that outfit she wore today. Was it a crime to wear that many fashion designer labels together at once? I bit my tongue to keep from commenting. Instead, I continued to smile, turning to her every so often to see if she was still following me while I walked to my office.

"Sorry about the mess", I said as I took a pile of papers from one of the chairs I specifically laid out for visitors. I usually had none, so it had become the much needed extension to my desk. "I was in the middle of typing up a story for our next issue", I further explained, confusing myself while I motioned for her to sit down at the guest seat. I took the one behind my desk. "What is it that I can help you with, Rachel?"

A smile appeared wider on her lips. "I thought Kurt and I were the formal ones in our group."

Oh gosh, did she really come into my office just to reminisce? She must have seen my facial expression because the point of her visit became quite clear with her next words.

"I miss everyone, Tina. I miss our glory days. I found a way to get it back, for us. I've called the new principal at McKinley and he agreed to host a Glee reunion for us—with coaxing from Jesse and me, of course. Please say you'll come, Tina. Please?"

I didn't know what to think at this point. A Glee reunion would mean that I'd have to miss work and I'd have to see everyone and their significant others—while I stand alone. I was already embarrassed enough for quitting so early on in my dream and finding a new one. I didn't want to be laughed at even more.

"Rachel", I began. I could swear my bottom lip was about to bleed because of how hard I was biting it. I could already feel the stutter about to come out. It only returned when I was nervous about something. That was how I knew I couldn't make it as an entertainer. I chose writing and journalism because it was second nature to me, just like singing had. "I-I don't know", I quickly recovered. "I can't miss work. It's too crucial and hectic right now nearing deadline. Not everyone can be a house wife, Mrs. St. James." I knew that was a low blow, but she didn't seem at all phased by my words. Had Rachel loved being married to Jesse and gathering her fame that way? Oh, how very Slytherin of her to use everything to her advantage.

"Tina. Imagine all of us together again, please. Wouldn't that be amazing? Everyone emailed back with a yes, but you." Oh, there was the guilt trip. Everyone had emailed back a reply? Even Finn—the guy whose heart she broke by leaving him? It was then that I realized I hadn't received an email; my face showed that confusion. I was just about to ask about her error when she interjected. "I thought since you were so close, I could ask you in person and hope that you'd accept—"

I didn't know she read my magazine, I was quite proud of that. She was interrupted when a knock came to my door. Thank God for that knock on the door.

"Am I interrupting something?" It was Barry, my editor and my boss. I quickly waved him in, signaling that he wasn't interrupting anything at all. Secretly, I hoped that act would show Rachel the door so I wouldn't have to give her an answer. They could have a Glee reunion without me, right? I was mostly in the background anyway.

"Oh wow, aren't you Rachel Berry?" I rolled my eyes. I had conveniently forgotten that my editor was a big fan of Broadway. I really didn't think things through at times.

While I left the two to chat, I thought about Rachel's proposal. While going back to Lima would be nice, I really didn't want to actually go back. It wasn't because of work or any of the sorts—it was because I haven't seen these people in lord knows how long. It would be awkward to show up out of the blue—even when Mike and I had ended on good terms, we still hadn't spoken to each other since graduation. It would be very awkward indeed.

"I must be going", Rachel spoke before turning to me. I quickly stood up to be polite. "Please Tina, think about it?" I inwardly groaned, the tone of her voice was ever so hopeful that it made me nod. Was this how she got Finn to do whatever she wanted? Damn manipulation at its core.

"Whatever it is, she says yes", Barry spoke—the look on my face that I was giving him became murderous. How dare he answer her for me? The smile that was Rachel's signature came out and she quickly turned to walk out of my office. I quickly rounded on my boss after that.

"Barry, I can't do it. I can't go to a Glee reunion", I spoke, trying to keep my voice from turning into a whine. Of course, Barry turned to me and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I quickly shut my mouth.

"Of course you can. You'll go, write about it, and love it or you're fired." Of course, he wanted a story out of it. Barry was also a very selfish editor when it came to getting the most unique stories out of his writers. He wouldn't dare to fire one of his best, would he? Barry left quickly after giving me my new assignment that I couldn't ask him and that probed a dilemma. Should I go to Lima and be miserable or lose my job and be miserable? If I go to Lima, I still had my childhood home to return to. My parents had decided to keep the house lest they want to retire. But that would mean that I'd have to see everyone—have them ridicule me for giving up.

But if I stay in New York, I lose my job and with the economy in its state and journalism being one of the most hardest fields to get into now with the digital age, I probably wouldn't be able to find another job.

A groan escaped me while I picked up my phone to dial my assistant.

"Norma? Could you get me a phone number? It's Rachel Berry. Call her publicist or something. Tell her that it's Tina Cohen-Chang from the New Yorker and that my answer is a yes. Then she'll give you a date and I'd need a plane ticket two weeks before that date. I'm going on a vacation. The destination? Lima, Ohio."

I never felt so Rachel Berry'd in my life.

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