Rachel sighed loudly whilst settling the coffee machine. It was almost a quarter past five in the afternoon, which meant that Cassidy was now almost fifteen minutes late. Every day it was the same thing. If the other girl wasn't her friend, she would've lost her temper by now. But, even though she always complained about her friend's tardiness, her co-worker was always late and always made Rachel late for her own deserved break.

The bell by the door of the old cafe rang, and the brunette shot a hopeful glance at the door, but the woman who'd just walked in most definitely was not her fussy ginger-haired colleague.

A blonde and classy woman walked in, and started to size the place up. Rachel could have sworn that this woman twisted her nose up to the grimy wallpaper and to the worn puffs in the corner. With her chin held high and a decided posture, the woman walked directly towards one of the tables at the bottom of the saloon. By the way that the blonde x-rayed the chair with such caution, Rachel almost expected her to take a handkerchief from her purse and effectively clean the furniture before sitting.

The brunette blinked two times and the other woman finally sat down. That is, after her pale face had contorted with an unmistakable expression of discontentment.

Rachel sighed for the second time. The woman looked like one of those customers who treated the staff poorly. And she had already had her dose of rudeness for the day, thanks to the fat guy who always barks that the coffee is cold, even though it never is.

Breathing deeply, she managed to put a bright smile on her face as she walked towards the blonde.

"Hello. My name is Rachel Berry. May I take your order?"

She took a pen and a tiny notebook from the pocket of her apron, eyeing the costumer anxiously.

The blonde, who hadn't even undressed her pretty white coat, clearly didn't deem Rachel worthy of her gaze. Her long, elegant fingers lingered upon the plasticized menu, and the brunette couldn't help but notice the huge golden ring, with its… enormous shiny rock on her left ring finger.

"Black coffee. Two sugar lumps," the woman ordered, not bothering to take the card after all.

Rachel nodded, although the woman hadn't taken more than a glance towards her. She'd been prepared to write line after line of specifications regarding the lady's coffee order, but for that to have happened the woman would've had to touch the apparently too disgusting plastic card.

After serving the coffee to the woman – who, it must be said, didn't even bother to thank her – Rachel took her place behind the counter, propping up her elbows and bending forward. She gazed in the customer, not caring much for subtlety. The object of her attention's blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, leaving the delicate curve of the neck and her small pearl earrings exposed. True pearls, Rachel would bet. She didn't seem like she was older than thirty. Perhaps she was...

Women like her were always older than they seemed.

"Weird, huh?" Arthur, the cashier, remarked.

Rachel immediately caught onto what he meant. It was quite unusual for someone like the blonde to wander into the old cafe. Not when there was a much more luxurious multinational competitor just one block away.

"You notice how she seems to think that she's gonna catch an STD just from sitting in one of our chairs?"

Rachel muffled a giggle. "Arthur, you're incorrigible."

The man shrugged and smiled.

A little while later, the bell above the door rang again and a tall man with a distinguished mohawk threw the door open, leaving a, once again, disappointed Rachel. She had really thought that it would be Cassidy this time.

The man sat down at the same table that the blonde was occupying. They got close right away, talking in hushed utterances.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. Was this man the blonde's lover? Because he most certainly couldn't be her husband. A woman like her... all classy and elegant, wouldn't marry a guy who wore a leather jacket, combat boots, and a freaking mohawk.

Feeling a slight wave of curiosity, the brunette walked towards the table that had captured her interest. She needed, of course, to take the new costumer's order. As she grew closer, the man stopped what he was saying and ogled her from head to toe.

"Excuse me sir, would you like to order...?" she asked, her cheeks dusting pink under the intensity of his gaze.

"One beer, sugar." The man gave her a nasty smile.

The blonde lady sneered at his answer.

Rachel nodded and went to get the beer. Thinking about it, he really seemed to be the blonde's lover. That was the only logical explanation. The two strangers talked with a proximity that was way too intimate, and they'd met up in a place like this…

What Rachel couldn't comprehend was… why such a distinguished woman would choose a man like him? Of course, that is, based on the principle that she was cheating on her husband. Sure, the man's bad boy demeanor could be considered to be appealing by some, but… well, they just didn't seem to fit.

When a new costumer walked in, the brunette forgot her speculations. The mysterious blonde's choice of a lover was not, by any means, her business… and, well, it was not as if Rachel had been faithful during all her relationships.

Fifteen minutes later, she saw the woman leave a bank note on the table and make a beeline towards the door.

A moment later the tall tan mohawked man also left the cafe.

She went to the table and took the ten dollar bill. Well, at least she tipped.

Then Cassidy finally decided to show up.

"Cassidy. Five forty! My break was supposed to end now! If the manager comes, he'll think I am not being punctual with my duties here and…"

"Sorry… so sorry, Rach! Bob came to see me today. I promise it won't happen again." Cassidy made her peculiar dog-kicked-in-the-rain face.

Rachel sighed.

"Ok. But only because you two made up. Honestly, I'd rather have you showing up late every day than see you crying in the corner every time someone asks for coffee without sugar. Of course, none of the circumstances are truly healthy, and you know, Cassy, although I am an enthusiastic adept of herbal medicine, those homeopathic drops of yours do not work for emotionally stressful situations…"

Cassidy laughed and grabbed her apron from behind the counter.

"Dear, why don't you take an extra half hour break? Totally fair. No, forget it. Just take the rest of the day off. If Steve, that fuckin' moron, comes, I'll cover for you. I'll tell him that you thought you got an infection in your vocal cords or whatever…" The ginger-haired woman waved her hand.

Rachel gasped quietly, quite scandalized by the comment. "No, no, no! Do not even suggest something like that! You know I can't get an infection in my…"

"Rachel! Go away. If he shows up I'll handle it. Don't worry. I recall you telling me all about that vocal technique test of yours. Just go home and study for a bit, ok?"

Before the brunette could form a response, Cassidy was pushing her towards the door.

"Alright, alright!" Rachel giggled. "Let me just get my purse..."

When she arrived home early, the last thing that she wanted was to find Santana and Kurt poised in battlefield mode. But, of course, with Santana and Kurt left alone, battlefield it was.

Her two roomies were staring at each other, arms crossed across chests, death glares penetrating the space between them.

"Santana! The cucumber moisturizing cream that was in the fridge was mine. And for my face. Not for your sandwich!"

"It was in the fridge! Only food gets to be in the fridge!" the latina retorted, rolling her eyes. "And please, Sprinkles, that was hardly moisturizing cream. All you did was mix cucumbers with some rabbit food shit and put it in the blender!"

Kurt gasped dramatically. "You did not just insult my beauty care regime! The recipe of that cream is worth gold, you latina devil. Gold!"

"Yeah, yeah. So said my tuna sandwich."

And that was the moment that Rachel concluded it best to interfere. "Fellow roomies! Isn't it great that I'm home early? I say we go to the park and enjoy this roommates bonding time. Or perhaps a musical would be more fitting?"

When the death glares that belonged to her two roomies gravitated towards her, Rachel changed her mind about interfering.

And that's what I get for my concern.

Kurt was the first to move, trotting back to his room, mumbling "latina bitch," under his breath. Santana rolled her eyes again and made her way out of the apartment without further comment.

So much for roommates bonding time.

Rachel sighed and went to her own room. She did have a test to study for, after all.

And all the effort really paid off. Rachel owned her test. Not that she expected any less, though.

"Rach! Wait up!"

She turned her head to see Beatrice jogging towards her.

"Hey you." She smiled a little when the girl reached her.

"So… I was wondering…" Beatrice rubbed the back of her neck. "There's this karaoke thing in a bar I found not far from here. Friday. Not many NYADA students go there, but there's a crowd from NYU. I guess it will be nice, right?! A change of scenery."

"I see." Rachel's smile blossomed. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun. You know I never refuse –"

"A performance," Beatrice finished, smiling right back at her, eyes shining in fondness. "Yeah, I know. And you, Miss Berry, know that I can't refuse a good performance either."

"Yes, I do." Rachel hesitated for a moment. "... I should go, or else I'll be late for work."

"Of course. See you Friday?"

"You just may."

By the time she arrived at the cafe, she positively did not hear the first thing that Cassidy had said to her. Her mind was far, far away.

Beatrice was this French girl, with an accent, short straight hair, white porcelain skin, and remarkable eyes. All of the things that characterize a French woman. Stereotypically, she was even guilty of wearing a beret from time to time too.

About four months ago, they'd met in the bar that Brody had introduced her to when she'd first arrived in NY. Saying that the French girl had immediately taken a liking to her was an understatement. It had been perfect timing. Rachel had been overly depressed about her break up with Brody, plus, she had just dumped Finn… And, well…

Saying that Rachel never liked to be alone was another understatement.

Really, she'd never given much thought about being with girls before. At least not that she was aware of. She'd been too deep in her "leading-men-bubble"

Alright, so Rachel may or may not have had some experience with her attraction to women, but she – with a lot of effort, thank you very much – tried to not make a big deal out of it, for her sexuality was fluid. Natural.

When Beatrice had put the moves on Rachel, Santana had pulled the brunette to the side and whispered: Seriously Berry, if you do not tap that, I will.

Then, Rachel – as Santana had so crudely put it – tapped that.

It was not that she didn't enjoy it. She really did. But, as much as she didn't like to be alone, she also didn't appreciate having sex with just anybody without some sort of intimacy involved. So it had just happened that one time.

Perhaps just that time and that other time.

Or maybe about six times.

Who was counting anyway?!

Rachel eventually concluded, in a very mature and serene way, obviously, that she might just be more into girls than she'd first imagined.

Cassidy let out a loud groan, breaking Rachel's train of thought.

"Could you take that, please?" She pointed a table out with her chin. "She looks exactly like the kind of bitch I usually slap."

Rachel raised her head to find the same blonde from the other day, sitting at the same table. Before she could reply, however, the man with the mohawk walked in. "It's fine Cassidy. There's no problem."

Black coffee, two sugar lumps. And a beer. Again she got nothing but indifference from the woman, followed by a dirty look from the man.

Once she had delivered the beverages to their table, she took her sweet time behind the counter observing the odd couple. Today the lady's blonde hair was loose, with beautiful perfect curls framing her face.

"Rachel, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry?" she replied, absent-minded.

The ginger-haired woman snapped her fingers in front of Rachel's face.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

"What- Cassidy…"

"No. Don't. You're so weird today. You didn't hear a thing I said to you. And do you know how I know that? I just told you I killed a baby pig with my bare hands, and what did you do? That's right. Nothing."

That caught Rachel's attention.

"Did you kill a baby pig with your bare hands?" Rachel all but yelled in shock.

"Of course not. Now can you hear me?"

The brunette shook her head, still a little shocked, mind you, and finally paid attention to whatever it was that Cassidy was saying.

That night, when Kurt and Rachel were sitting snug on the couch, with boxes of Thai food in hand and their eyes fixated on some lame horror movie on TNT, the front door opened rather loudly.

Rachel jumped, and Kurt let out a really, really shrill shriek.

Santana arched an eyebrow at both of them "Losers," she breathed out.

The latina approached them and slammed a tub of something on the coffee table.

"Here, Tinker Bell, this is real moisturizing cream. And it's the good shit, too. My friend Clara said it was the best, and I gotta say, that girl knows everything about facial stuff."

She shot a dirty smirk and Kurt made a disgusted face, whilst Rachel almost choked on her food.

"Thank you. I guess," the boy replied hesitantly, but brightened with a small smile nevertheless.

"Now, where am I supposed to sit, bitches?" Refusing to wait for an answer, Santana rudely wedged herself between Kurt and Rachel, and grabbed a box of food.

"Excuse me usually works, Santana," Rachel scolded.

"Shut it, Berry."

"Is that the shit you two pussies were afraid of?" Santana said after ten minutes, but Rachel could so see the goosebumps that had risen up on the latina's caramel-colored arms.

"Are you cold, Santana? Should I get you a blanket?" Apparently so did Kurt.

"Shut it, Hummel."

Rachel smiled. Yes, it was exactly as they said… There's no place like home.

[~~]

So guys, hello. Haha.

As some of you may have noticed, English is not my first language... This fanfiction was originally written in portuguese, and I must say, writing this in English have been hard.

Up until recently (July/2014) I hadn't got any native speaker proofreading it to me, but now I do! Yay! LikeNobodysWatching kindly offered to do this for me (thank you!), so the mistakes regarding grammar and stuff had decreased considerably. But if there is still something wrong, it is all on me, obviously.

P. Taylor thanks for all the support and ideas, This fic probably wouldn't go much far without you ;)

ANYWAY, stick with me and let me know what you thought of this :)