Author's Note: While I love Puckleberry more than anything, Samchel is my second-best OTP. I love them so much 3 Also, there is Kurofsky in here, so if you don't like it, I'm sorry but I do like them together :) Also, I don't own Glee/the characters, just the story.

Rachel Barbra Berry did not handle rejection well. Exhibit A: a Mister Finn Hudson. Thankfully that ship had sailed after he joined the army and sent her on a train to New York, alone. That didn't mean she liked hearing "no" though, especially not when it concerned castings. Although she was twenty-two now, a lot more mature then her already old-soul teenage self, she still through a mental fit on the way home. The diva slammed her feet with every step on the sun kissed sidewalks, marched up the six flights of stairs to her apartment, and finally shut the door so hard it nearly fell off its hinges. She leaned back against the metal door with a groan with her big eyes shut tight, and swallowed the tears. Why did rejection have to sting so badly?

"Casting not go well?" Her roommate, Sam Evans, asked as his head popped up from the leather couch he was reclined on. It was a long story as to how they became roommates; needless to say, Mercedes and Sam was no longer an item before he moved in with Rachel. Long distance was not as easy as they thought and Sam was only too eager to move in with his good friend after a dramatic end to a dramatic relationship.

Rachel shook her head, not moving from her position against the door. She wrapped her arms around herself, her pale blue dress chafing her skin. To think, she got all dolled up just to be turned down. Oh, the irony of it all!

She heard socked feet shuffle over the hardwood and felt a pair of strong arms pull her in for a hug. She smothered a sob and clung to the young man she had come to depend on for anything from late night movie marathons and early morning coffee runs. Breakfast at Tiffany's turned out to be even more enjoyable when speaking Na'vi.

"It's okay Rach, I mean, there are tons more parts out there just waiting for you to get your hands on. That director doesn't know what he's missing out on." Since the girl graduated from NYADA just that spring, Sam had had to deal with a lot of these moments. He knew it was hard to break into acting (one reason he never tried), but he always thought Rachel wouldn't have those problems. She was a star; how could she not easily fall into her niche?

He caught a sniffle and sigh, the signal she was calming down. He loosened his grip so she could pace, as was necessary after a dramatic shedding of tears, or so she always informed him.

As predicted, Rachel toed off her Mary Jane's and began rambling as her feet carried her all around the apartment. It was easier for Sam just to stay in one spot, so he shoved his hands in his NYPD sweats and watched as the girl who had nudged her way into his heart worked her way through her grief.

"He was completely unfair Samuel. I only got halfway through my lines before he cut me off. What's worse is he did it only to me. Me! Rachel Barbra Berry, cut down like some—some-"

"Slab of meat?" Sam offered, his blonde wisps hiding the amusement in his eyes. He always found it slightly comical when she got herself all worked up. Her cheeks would turn a lovely shade of red and her eyes flickered like a live flame was hiding inside. She was at her most beautiful in those moments.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, exactly! Thank you Samuel. As I was saying, he let all the other ladies have their full time, the men too, but me he signalled out! He said I wasn't "fit for the part"." He blew his cover when she used air quotes. Sam couldn't help but grin. When she saw him, her eyes narrowed and she got that dangerous I'm-going-to-send-you-to-an-abandoned-drug-house look.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" With her hands on her tiny hips and her foot tapping, Sam lost it. He full out laughed as he walked over to her. This only seemed to infuriate her further and she glared up at the boy.

"Samuel, it is rude to laugh without letting one in on the joke," she said tersely.

When the two were inches apart, he finally got a hold of himself. "You are. Whenever you go off like this, you're so damn cute and I can't help but laugh. You get so worked up Rach, every night you come home and it's like this. After a while, it's funny."

She supposed he did have a point. Rachel had been coming home every day for about a month straight like this. Suddenly, she felt terrible for making Sam listen to her every night. Her hands hung limply at her side and she hung her head, all the fight leaving her.

"Yes, well, at least one of us finds my failure amusing," she muttered glumly.

Rachel directed her gaze to him when she found Sam's hands on her shoulders. He had on a wide grin, the kind that accentuated his "trouty mouth", and she waited for him to say something so she could look away from those tempting lips.

"Rach, you're not a failure. This is real life. It takes a while to break into show business, especially musicals. It does suck, a lot, but every time my friends at the academy hear you sing, know what they say?" She shook her head, biting her lip as a smile started to form. Sam brushed aside a lock of loose brown curls and chuckled. "They say they want front row seats to your first big show. You're a star Rach, trust me. It will just take some time for the rest of the world to see it."

She honestly didn't know what she would do without Sam. He was such a good friend, had been since Prom really. If she hadn't been so focused on Finn and Jesse, maybe she actually would have had fun. But that was in the past. High school, NYADA, all that was gone. This was now. Rachel was going to be a star, no doubt about it, and Sam was going to be in the front row cheering her on. He already claimed that spot when he saw her first big performance on the NYADA stage her first year out in New York. Her dads figured she'd like a familiar face so they brought Sam along for the ride. That was his favourite Christmas to date, next to last year's where they went carolling till one in the morning.

The diva extraordinaire gave her best smile and leaned up on her tip toes. Sam wasn't sure what exactly she was doing until her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for being the best friend I've ever had Samuel." The blonde just nodded, the tingling coming from where her lips had touched overwhelming him. He had secretly wished she would have said something besides best friend, maybe along the lines of boyfriend, but they weren't dating so that would never happen. Even though they lived together and spent ninety-nine percent of their time together, they never stepped over the friendship-line. Whether it was for fear of the unknown, or fear of losing the friendship, he wasn't sure. But that was the first time she kissed him, so he wasn't sure what he was to make of that.

Rachel was now facing the kitchen counter to pour herself a cup of tea. Her back was to Sam, covering her blazing cheeks. How long had it taken her to build up the courage to do that, three, four years? She wasn't sure if it was the smartest move, but it certainly was worth it.

"Did anyone call while I was gone?"

Sam shook his head, his chest heaving slightly underneath his white tank. "No. You got a letter from Quinn though. Oh, and Kurt texted me to see if we're still coming over to his and Dave's place for "Fashion Police" then "Call of Duty"." Yes, as strange as it was for Sam to imagine, Kurt was and had been seeing Dave for a year now. When Blaine came out to New York after he graduated, the two had changed a great deal since they last saw each other, so they parted on good terms. Kurt had lived alone for about a year before he met Karofsky again and, after dating for almost a year, Dave moved in. Despite all the crap Dave pulled at McKinley, Sam respected the guy. He was changed now and hey, if he treated Kurt right, who was Sam to butt in?

Rachel grabbed the honey bottle and squirted some into her tea as she turned to face her roommate. "I'll go see what the letter says. And you can tell Kurt that yes, we are coming tonight, and I intend to "destroy" him at C.O.D." Sam still loved the fact that he converted her to video games. He even managed to get her to use the lingo now and again.

The young man nodded and flashed another smile. "I suppose you're going to be holed up in vocal practice till dinner?"

Rachel chuckled with a nod. "As always. Routine is everything Samuel. I'll see you in time to make the salad." With a curtsey, she was gone, leaving Sam flushing like a fool once again. Damn it, why did Rachel Berry have to make his stomach do somersaults?

"Rachel, we haven't even been here five minutes and you've already checked your phone seven times!" Quinn complained. After going to the trouble of taking a trip from Yale to New York, she would have thought her best friend would be a little more excited to spend time with her.

The actress-to-be shut her phone and stuffed it in her purse just as the waitress came by to get their orders. After receiving the letter from Quinn informing her of her week-long trip to New York, the girls arranged to have coffee at a cute café half a block from Rachel's apartment. This year Quinn was staying at Kurt's for her trip. Every year Quinn made at least one trip up, as did Rachel to see Quinn, but this one was different. The lawyer-in-training sensed something was amiss about her dear friend and she was intent to sniff out the problem.

After the girls ordered, Rachel apologized while fiddling with her lapel on her red trenchcoat. "Sorry Quinn, it's just Samuel. It's his first time out in the field since his partner was shot, and I worry for him." Ah, Sam, that explained the distracted Rachel.

Quinn smiled to herself. She suspected something was up between her ex-boyfriend and best friend for a while now, but it was emphasized even more when Sam's partner was shot on duty about three months ago. Although Sam had done nothing wrong, he suffered trauma because it was his first shooting incident since he joined the academy a year ago. So he was put on desk duty until he felt more in control of himself and his gun. Rachel had taken good care of him, even going to the shooting range with him so she could learn alongside him.

"I'm sure he's fine. Now, tell me about your acting! How's it going?" The girls talked for some time about their jobs (Quinn was interning at a law firm currently and Rachel had picked up a waitressing job her second year at NYADA that she managed to keep), their friends, and other things. Rachel admired how much Quinn had changed since their high school days. She was still radiant with her cropped blonde hair and sophisticated pant suits, but she seemed happier now. Maybe that had to do with her new "leading man".

"You have to tell me all about him!" Rachel begged, her lower lip jutting out in an attempt to get her way. Quinn held fast though, and kept her wallet that contained a picture of Evan tight to her breast.

"Not until you tell me why you haven't kissed Sam yet!" Quinn retorted.

Rachel blushed, matching her coat. "Because it's not proper to kiss a friend!"

"Ha! You kissed nearly every guy in glee! The only important one you left out is Sam! Why haven't you? It's obvious you two care for each other."

Rachel sighed. "I do care for him, but it would make things too awkward if I suddenly kissed the man. I doubt he thinks of me as anything more than a sister."

Quinn snorted. "Trust me, he doesn't give Stacey those bedroom eyes." Rachel squeaked at the comment. So she hadn't been imagining that stare when she was half asleep on the couch, her legs on his lap, during their movie marathon the night before at Kurt and Dave's?

The young blonde sighed and covered one of Rachel's hands with hers. "Look, if you really want to be with him, then you have to go get him. Cinderella didn't get her prince by waiting for him to show up on her doorstep. She went to the ball and got him herself." The girls smiled at the Disney reference (movie marathons were the best).

Rachel knew Quinn was right. If she ever wanted to get out of this awkward position, she had to make a decision. Either they were only friends, or they were going to try and date.

"Alright, I will," she stated, her chin jutting out confidently.

Quinn grinned. "That's the Rachel Berry I know. Now you can look at Evan." The student flashed the photo of the devastatingly handsome man, sending both girls into a tizzy.

After coffee, Rachel trekked home in a daze. Sam would be home and she wasn't sure what she was to do. How could she phrase exactly how she felt for him? This wasn't like Finn. She didn't have preconceived notions about how their lives would go. This wasn't like Jesse. She didn't feel like she was fighting Sam or competing against him. Everything was easier with him, and she couldn't handle not having him around if she lost him. His career choice was another problem. What if they fell in love, married, had babies, and then he was killed on duty? Could she handle the permanent end?

Rachel shakily climbed the stairs to her apartment where her mind was flooded with memories of Sam. She recalled the times he brought her an umbrella to NYADA when she forgot one and the forecast called for storms. She remembered baking cookies together, learning Na'vi, playing one on one basketball, going to black and white movies together, and all the little moments that became New York when she spent it with Sam. By the time she reached the door, her face was threatening to split because of her smile. Despite all the bad things that could come with falling for Sam, Rachel couldn't deny herself the happiness that came with being with him.

When she came inside, she spotted the boy in the kitchen nook, reading a book of some kind. At the sound of the click of the lock, Sam turned his head and grinned to see it was her. She saw the sparkle in his eyes, the desire hiding under his lashes, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.

"Hey, how was coffee with Quinn?"

Rachel dropped her purse and coat, revealing her work out clothes (a flimsy skirt, form fitting violet tank, and ballet tights) that she had one before coffee, and barely remembered to answer him as she made a beeline for him.

"Great," she whispered before cupping his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. The book dropped on the floor with a thunk, but neither noticed. Although surprised, Sam was certainly not complaining. How could he complain about the girl of his dreams kissing him like this? The height different wasn't helping though. Either her back was going to start to ache or his neck was going to, whichever, and he wasn't about to have that. Placing his hands on her rear, her lifted her off the ground and placed her on the counter. She squawked at the change of events, but when he leaned in for another kiss, she smothered any comment. Rachel's fingers intertwined in his hair while his traced patterns across her back and sides.

When breathing became absolutely necessary, they separated, their lips hovering close to each other's. Rachel's hands dropped to his shoulders and she leaned her forehead against his, taking slow, deep breathes as she tried to focus on something besides her tingling body. Sam appeared in the same condition, for one of his hands now gripped the counter to keep him steady.

"What—was that all about?" He questioned with a breathless laugh.

Rachel couldn't help but giggle along. "I just—Samuel—Sam I want—we should-" Sam smothered her answer with a kiss, his hand raised to cup her cheek gently. She shivered in reply; he really was talented with that "trouty mouth" of his.

Eventually the two separated again. "Tonight. Olive Garden. Seven o'clock?" He asked, his lips puffy as he waited for an answer.

Without hesitation Rachel nodded. "Better make it seven-thirty. I have a feeling you're going to keep me busy till then," she winked. Sam chuckled and dipped his head, peppering the dark skin with kisses.

"Seven-thirty it is."

Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review :)