"What I don't understand is how they could have followed a star. Stars are rarely that bright and anyway, there was nothing crazy in the sky that night. I looked it up; there's no scientific explanation for some weird light leading them to a baby."

Will looks at Rachel, his eyes amused, and smiles. "Well, a lot of faith is just that – faith. It can be metaphorical."

"But it IS the Christmas story, Mr. Schue. People take it for granted all the time."

Will stirs his latte and watches Rachel delve into a super-sweet peppermint latte with chocolate and whipped cream. He knows they could be seen at any time – this is a popular Starbucks - but he can't help reaching out to brush a tiny bit of whipped cream from her lip, anyway.

"And anyway, it's fine. I don't begrudge them their beliefs. Christmas is really nice. I like the lights and the happiness and all that."

Will watches Rachel cross and re-cross her legs. She's wearing a red sweater dress and two dangling gold stars from her ears.

"Don't you think that the star could have been some kind of metaphor for the kings' own faith? Like your stars?"

"What do my stars represent? The fact that I am a star? That's not really at all the same thing, Will. I am, and will be, a star. It's not faith – I know I will." Rachel's tone is firm, and Will again smiles in indulgence, taking some pleasure at the daring use of his name, as opposed to the more formal, and proper, Mr. Schuester Rachel is always careful to use in public.

"Come on. Let's take a walk."

It's snowing heavily – a white Christmas might actually happen for once. Once they're out of sight of the busy downtown Lima square, Will takes Rachel's gloved hand, and watches her blush and squeeze his in delight.

He does really love to make her happy, despite this silliness. It's her first year of NYADA and she's doing well, but she's not quite over the arrogance of her high school years yet – she's only taken her first exams and she did fairly well. All criticism was brushed aside.

It's typically Rachel, but her 18-year-old self is probably in for a shock within the next semester at least.

They wind their way down the snow covered path by the small creek in the city park, and he has to help her a few times when she slips. Once she even falls into the snow, and he can't help it – he lifts her to her feet, just to catch the smell of her hair and brush his cheek against the softness of her own.

They stop at a bench and Rachel's teeth begin to chatter. "It's cold, Will."

"I know." He sits beside her and wraps his arms around her small body. She'd lost weight, as opposed to gained it through the "Freshman 15", when he'd visited her in New York in late October, but now she's gained it back and looks much like she did a mere six months ago when he saw her at graduation.

She's wearing a red jacket and white beret with white gloves. With her dark eyes and hair, she looks like a little Christmas elf against the snow. He can't help it – they had vowed not to do this anymore, but he can't help it. He leans down to kiss her.

Her lips are soft, cold in the snowy air, and she tastes like peppermint.

He reaches into his pocket when they break apart to bring out a small jewellery box. "If I'd known you didn't like stars as much as you said you did when I first met you, I would have chosen a different present," he says, shrugging sheepishly, but Rachel takes the box anyway and opens it to find a gold star pendant on a delicate gold chain. It's the matching necklace to her gold star earrings, which he had given her at graduation.

She squeals in delight. "Will, it's so beautiful. Thank you. You really didn't have to."

He knows he shouldn't buy her presents. He knows they're over.

But like the faith those three kings had when following their star, Will can't help but feel faith that Rachel will always love him anyway.

Gold stars just do that to him.