Crickets were chirping. How very dramatic of them. All she wanted to do was sit in the car and work up the nerve to go into Rachel's house and demand she tell Carole why she kissed a boy that was not her son, and the damn crickets were chirping as they did in every single movie ever where the heroine (usually a frizzy haired teenage girl) did something like sneak into the house of the boy she had a crush on to steal a pair of his boxers or put a dead fish in the air vent of the cheerleading captain's home - something stupid, inappropriate and ultimately pointless. Not to mention it was only six o'clock and already getting dark. It didn't bode well.

'Are you gonna go in anytime soon?' asked Burt patiently, giving his wife a bemused smile. Carole glared at him.

Rachel's house was in the nice part of town. Carole had picked Finn up from there twice before, and she remembered it well... the pristinely manicured lawn, the gleaming white picket fence like a row of fangs sinking into the wealth that weighed down the air; which smelt fresher, purer somehow, like money could buy miracles and reverse the smog and pollution that clouded the air in the rest of Lima. Rachel's house was an enormous brick beauty, tarnished only by a beard of tangled ivy that crept its way up the side of the house and somehow knew to stay neat and close-shaven.

She knew that in the grand scheme of the world, Rachel's parents weren't ridiculously wealthy. They had enough money for a nice house in a nice neighbourhood, and they could afford to take holidays every summer and pay for Rachel's singing and dance lessons without skimping on the groceries. They were hardly dripping with cash, but in comparison to Carole - or at least, pre-'shared savings account with Burt' Carole - they were living in the lap of luxury. And the dazed look on Finn's face when she picked him up from Rachel's that first time - a few months ago, when his car ran out of gas and he was over there 'working on a science project' (yeah, right) - told her that he too had noticed the difference between the stained, fading wallpaper of their house and the stylish cleanliness of Rachel's walls. He didn't seem to mind, but Carole felt a little uncomfortable. This wasn't the kind of house where you took your shoes off before going in; this was the kind of house where you wore stilettos that cost two hundred bucks just to come over for dinner, and didn't care if they were muddy because someone would be paid to mop it up.

She knew exactly where Rachel's room was in the house, because you could see into her front window from the street. The light in there seemed to burn brighter than anywhere else in the house (Carole had remarked on this to Finn, feeling philosophical, and he told her that Rachel had actually installed a lightbulb of the same strength that was used to illuminate the stage of Carmel High, in order to acclimate herself to the blinding brightness of the Broadway lights).

'Yep,' said Carole finally. 'This is ridiculous. Finn would kill me if he knew I was here.'

Suddenly something occurred to her, and she gasped.

'Finn! What's he going to do if he realizes I'm gone?'

'I'm sure his first guess at your whereabouts won't be 'Rachel's house, to find out why she kissed Puck',' said Burt wryly. 'I told Kurt we were going to get some more groceries. Finn's got no reason not to believe him.'

'Right,' breathed Carole. 'Okay. So I have no reason not to do this.'

Apart from the fact that it's INSANE. Apart from the fact that if anyone finds out she ever did this, they will think that she's crazy; and that if this backfires and she makes things worse between Finn and Rachel, her son will never trust her with his personal life again.

'None whatsoever,' agreed Burt, and he reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt, then stretched his arm over past her legs to pop the handle of the door. It sprung open, and he grinned. 'Off you go.'

'You just like watching me squirm,' she accused, getting out of the car.

'You're adorable when you squirm,' Burt said, and she rolled her eyes, slamming the door shut behind her. She walked up the neatly paved pathway to the Berrys' front door; illuminated by a dangling lantern, and rang the doorbell, keeping an eye on the frosted glass panels on either side of the door to watch for someone approaching. Within a few seconds a body shimmered into view and the door swung open, revealing a tall, handsome African American man - Leroy Berry, Rachel's father.

'Hello, Carole!' he said, clearly surprised. 'How are you, today?'

'I'm well, thanks, you?'

'Can't complain, can't complain...' he trailed off, looking at her curiously. They'd only met each other a couple of times, at Glee performances and ferrying their respective children to and from dates - and though she liked him, and liked the way he rose above the petty gossip and snide looks of the judgmental Lima parents who thought Rachel was somehow disadvantaged by being raised by two gay men - they hardly had the kind of relationship where she could routinely drop in unannounced. She cleared her throat.

'I was wondering if I could have a chat with Rachel,' said Carole politely.

'Oh - is everything okay? Is it Finn?' asked Leroy, concerned, and Carole couldn't help but smile. Her son the charmer... it wasn't every kid that could provoke such genuine concern in the father of the girl he liked to make out with.

'Oh, Finn's fine, I just wanted to have some girl talk with Rachel... he's going through a hard time at the moment and I wanted to see if she knew anything.'

It wasn't a lie.

She felt kind of bad lying - or at least omitting - her way past Rachel's father; like she was breaking some parental code of honour that said parents had a right to know what was going on in their kids' lives. But she was here now...

'Of course. Come on in.'

Leroy opened the door wider and beckoned for her to enter. Carole was sure the walls had been painted white the last time she was there, and a deep red the time before that; they were now a dusky blue. She guessed ACLU lawyers and... whatever it is Jeremy Berry calls himself... could afford to redecorate every few months.

'Rachel's just up in her room - doing homework. Or at least, I assume she's doing homework, she's not singing...' he grinned. Carole laughed nervously as Leroy showed her towards the staircase.

'It's the third one on the right - you'll know it when you see it.'

Carole rapped Rachel's bedroom door - which was emblazoned with a large, bedazzled gold star embellished with the words Rachel Berry in vivid pink cursive.

'I'm doing homework!'

Rachel's voice was muffled by the door but she had brilliant projection; it was as though she was yelling in Carole's ear. She wondered how Finn managed to hang out with the girl so often without getting a headache.

'Rachel, it's Carole Hudson, Finn's mom.'

Silence. What do you know, it can be done. It stretched on for so long that Carole started to feel uncomfortable; the ridiculousness of what she was doing seemed to crowd in around her, and she wondered what Rachel was thinking - whether she would even let Carole through the door, until her voice broke the silence again - quieter this time. Unsure.

'Did, um... did Finn send you?'

She sounded so hopeful that Carole almost felt sorry for her. But Rachel had kissed Puck...

'No,' she replied. 'Finn doesn't know I'm here.'

'Oh.'

This time, her voice was so steeped in disappointment that Carole could barely hear her. It seemed the volume of Rachel's voice fluctuated in accordance to her moods; when she was happy, you could hear her for miles. But when she wasn't, her voice was dampened, quietened by sorrow.

'Is he okay?'

'Could I come in?' asked Carole quickly. 'I was hoping to have a chat with you about what happened. I'm not here to yell at you, Rachel. I just know how happy Finn's been lately... I want to understand why you did what you did. Maybe I can help you fix it.'

'I doubt it. He hates me now.'

'Rachel.' Carole gave up trying to plead with her and decided to be firm. 'Please let me in.'

A couple of seconds later, the door swung open.

Rachel stood before her, dressed in black leggings and a cream knitted turtleneck; her hair piled on top of her head. It wasn't very Rachel... but it did remind Carole somewhat of Meg Ryan in some old 90's movie, crying in bed over her latest romantic failure, and knowing Rachel the resemblance was entirely deliberate - it didn't surprise Carole that this girl would want to mourn a break-up in an outfit that represented dumped women via the most well known commercial actress of the romantic-comedy hayday (yeah, Carole knew about movies. She'd mourned a break-up or two Meg Ryan style herself... but she'd personally opted for the ice-cream instead of the ensemble).

It was her face that stopped Carole in her tracks. Rachel, like Finn, had clearly chosen not to cry (or at least, she wasn't at the moment). But while Finn looked angry, Rachel just looked sad.

'This is kind of weird,' Rachel said awkwardly. 'I mean... no offence, but most parents would be at home with their kid, telling him to forget all about his slutty, whorey girlfriend - that there are plenty of fish in the sea and he should just forget about me and find a nice, tall girl who hates guys with mohawks. And you're over here, talking to me. To... help me?'

'Yes.'

'Why would you want to help me?' asked Rachel tremulously. 'You must hate me. I cheated on your son.'

'Well, I'm not here for your sake, Rachel. I'm here for Finn's. But I don't hate you.'

Rachel sighed.

'Well... come in, I guess.'

Carole stepped into her bedroom, vaguely noting a lot of pastel and a really bright overhead light, and waited for Rachel to shut the door again.

'So, I was wondering -'

'Wait,' interrupted Rachel. 'How did you get past my dad? I didn't tell him Finn and I broke up. If you did he'd be up here with a glass of water, trying to convince me to go see my therapist.'

Carole raised an eyebrow. Rachel had a therapist? She wondered if Finn knew that.

'I was vague,' she admitted. 'I said I needed help understanding Finn... that he was going through a hard time. Your dad actually seemed pretty worried. He and Finn must get along.'

'Dad thinks Finn is wonderful,' said Rachel, smiling despite herself. 'They bonded over a mutual love of that... baseball player, John DiMargio or le Margio or something, when Finn was over here for dinner one time. It's Daddy who's the overprotective one. He told Finn that if he ever hurt me...' she trailed off, suddenly realizing what she'd said, and looked at the floor, miserable.

Carole sat down on Rachel's bed, just like she had on Finn's less than an hour ago. Except Finn's duvet cover didn't have sequins that dug into her butt like tacks, but that was hardly important.

'Rachel... you and Finn were so happy. Why would you suddenly decide to kiss Puck?'

It was done. She'd asked the question. And she expected Rachel to look guilty, or scared, or to burst into tears. She certainly didn't expect her to look...stunned.

'He didn't tell you?' she exclaimed, almost angry.

'Well... no!'

'Look, Mrs Hudson -' Rachel began -

'Carole.'

'Carole, I know what I did was awful. And I know I really hurt Finn. I feel terrible about that. But I only kissed Puck because I was so mad at him in the first place, for having sex with Santana and lying about it even when I made my heart-wrenching confession about my own virginity-related miscommunications, reaching into the depths of my soul and -'

'What?' Carole said hoarsely.

Finn had sex with Santana? Finn had sex? With Santana? God... she'd wanted to know why Rachel kissed Puck... but she would sell her soul to unlearn what she had just heard. Kids Finn's age didn't have sex! Well... okay, they did. And she'd certainly been forced to confront that mortifying fact before with Quinn and the baby drama. But she didn't want to believe Finn had sex. Finn was supposed to still be a kid, six foot four or not. He was supposed to like girls for their personalities and their smiles and their shiny, shiny hair... not for... that.

And she couldn't even fathom Finn having feelings for Santana. That girl was a black hole of misery and venom; beautiful, yes, but shallow and vindictive - and she had thought he loved Rachel enough to wait, if he had to, to... God, have sex... instead of running off with a cheerleader. What was it with this boy and cheerleaders? Hadn't she raised him to see past those ridiculous little skirts and the perfect hair and... wow, that actually sounded a lot like Rachel. Is that why Finn had chosen Rachel, after his relationship with Quinn fell apart? Because she was the next best thing to a cheerleader? And when he'd realized he'd have to wait... but hadn't she taught him to treat girls better than that? To treat people better than that?

She marvelled at her own naivete. For some reason she had thought Rachel's motives must have been lust for Puck or some high-school desire to not be tied down to one boy; it had never occurred to her, in all her maternal pride and indignation, to cast blame on her son.

She must have looked as though she'd swallowed a lemon, because Rachel's expression changed from defensive to sheepish.

'In the spirit of honesty,' she said, sitting down next to Carole on the bed, 'I should probably clarify that he did it before we started dating.'

Oh.

Well. It was still Santana... but now she felt a little better about Finn. Worse about Rachel. Kind of shaky about Santana.

'Then,' she said slowly, 'Finn didn't cheat on you...'

'No, but he lied to me!' cried Rachel, looking outraged and flourishing her hands to emphasize the criminality of the act. 'When I was dating Jesse I told Finn that I... you know... with him, to make Finn jealous, but when we got together I told him that it was a lie because I wanted to be honest with him, even though I thought he might be upset. I said all this stuff about how it would be so much better now, because we could wait for each other and it would be special... and he just sat there and nodded because he wanted to trick me into doing it with him. And everybody knew - everyone in the Glee club, and nobody told me. Do you know how humiliating that is? It's like they were all co-conspirators in Finn's master plan to get me to have sex with him!'

Carole sighed.

'I understand why the lying might have upset you, Rachel,' she conceded, 'but I'm sure Finn just didn't want to hurt you.'

'That's what he said,' said Rachel sullenly, 'and it's such a crock. He didn't want to hurt himself. He knows how much I value honesty and how important my virginity is to me, and if he was prepared to let me give it to him because of a lie then he doesn't respect me at all. And -' she jumped up off the bed, pointing a finger dramatically at Carole, 'you know, I told him upfront about what happened with Puck even though it ended up causing him to break up with me, because I respected him enough to tell him the truth. Finn just tells me what I want to hear.'

But that was Finn. He didn't know how to hurt people, even if it was what they needed.

'And that it was Santana...'

'Does it really matter who it was with?'

'It does if it's her,' whispered Rachel.

Her bravado and feminist indignation was gone, replaced with hurt. Carole leaned forward.

'Rachel, why does it bother you so much that it was Santana. Would you have been driven to kiss Puck if Finn had... with Quinn? Or Brittany, or anyone else?'

'No!' Rachel cried, high pitched. 'At least then I could justify the illusion that Finn places some value on personality! Brittany's sweet... and Quinn, they had that whole thing last year, I know he still has feelings for her -'

'How do you know that?'

'I heard him say it once,' said Rachel in a small voice. 'I got Quinn to ask him out so I could make sure he would be faithful to me, and he said he still had feelings for her. He didn't go out with her, but - anyway, that's not important, my point is that Santana is evil. Finn doesn't even like Santana. He rolls his eyes every time she opens her mouth - that means dislike, I should know, people do that when I talk all the time. And he had sex with her anyway. What does that say about him?'

'Well, honey, he's a teenage boy,' said Carole resignedly. And teenage boys, unfortunately, don't always think with their heads. And Finn's head... wasn't the most rational to begin with. He was led by two things, emotion and other people's expectations; sometimes he allowed a little too much weight to the latter one.

'Excusing his behaviour because of his age only encourages it. I used to think Finn could look past all the superficial stuff...' Rachel hesitated. 'I'm not as thin or as pretty as Quinn or Santana or Brittany, I don't look like them... but I thought he loved me anyway, for me. It turns out I'm the one he lies to and Santana Lopez, who looks like a lingerie model and has a face like a Maian goddess, is the one he sleeps with.'

Carole was shocked. This was a girl who wore miniskirts with pride, who stood up on stage and sang so wonderfully that people still talked about it for months afterward - the girl who looked good in argyle and made Finn blush wearing overalls? Rachel Berry didn't know she was beautiful?

'Besides,' she continued, her eyes filling up with tears, 'do you know why Santana got pissed off enough to actually tell me about their little rendezvous? It was because I was sticking up for Finn. I always do that. I love him. But Santana calls me names and makes fun of my clothes, and tells me to move to Israel, and Finn either just stands there or... laughs. Because it's so funny that everyone at school thinks I'm a freak.'

And that was Finn too. So caught up in what other people thought that he sometimes forgot his own opinions... that he liked Rachel's animal sweaters. That he thought she was prettier and more smart and talented and fantastic than all those other girls put together. Carole knew those things were true, because she had heard him say them. But she wondered how often he remembered to tell Rachel.

'I kissed Puck,' said Rachel quietly, 'because I wanted to make him feel as bad as I did. Like he wasn't always sure that I loved him. Like he wasn't good enough for me, for a change. And then,' she went on, her voice wobbling, 'we drew at Sectionals and - he said he wouldn't lie to me again, ever, and I realized that he hadn't meant to hurt me, but I hurt him on purpose and - and - he was right to break up with me!'

Rachel was crying now, tears running down her cheeks in rivulets, her face crumpled. She walked over to her desk, plucked a tissue out of a cardboard box that was tucked away behind some magazines and buried her face in it.

Carole was... stunned. She had come here looking for the missing piece to the puzzle of why Rachel and Finn, the world's most in love teenagers, had fallen apart all in one afternoon and instead she'd gotten Rachel's heart on her sleeve... and a whole new look at her son, who unlike other boys his age had no trouble at all telling his mother that he loved her, but for some reason couldn't get his girlfriend to understand that he loved her.

'Rachel,' said Carole gently. 'I think you should tell Finn all this.'

But she wasn't listening. She had her back turned now, facing her desk, fiddling with her phone - mirroring Finn's actions earlier that night.

'Oh, nooo...' Rachel muttered, staring down at the screen of her phone, her hand flying to her mouth. Carole's heart sunk. What had Finn, completely oblivious to the effect his every word and action had on this girl, said now...

'Rachel?'

She spun around, eyes wide at the sound of Carole's voice as though she'd forgotten she was there, and start babbling.

'Um - look, you have to believe me, I did not ask him to come here and I don't - oh God, oh God -' she squealed, fluttering her hands nervously and looking at Carole as though she was holding a sword to her throat. 'I swear I haven't asked him -'

'What are you talking about?' said Carole sharply, her stomach sinking further. Not Finn, but...

'Puck's here,' Rachel said quickly. 'He just texted me, he's outside the house. He wants me to go outside to talk to him - he and my dads don't really get along very well -'

'Oh, of course they don't,' growled Carole. Puck was like parent kryptonite. She stood up. 'Rachel, I believe you when you say you love Finn. But if you want to fix your relationship with him, you have to get rid of Puck.'

'It's not Puck's fault, I'm the one who kissed him. He pulled away -'

'Do you really want to start that argument?' interrupted Carole loudly. Rachel looked surprised, and she sighed.

'I understand why you did what you did, now, but that doesn't make it right. You don't want to go defending Puck if you have any chance of getting Finn to forgive you. Admittedly,' she said quickly, as Rachel opened her mouth to protest, 'you have some forgiving to do too. But if you want Finn back, you can't have a relationship with Puck. You deserve Finn's trust, I know that, but Puck will never have it back now.'

'But Puck's... kind of my friend,' insisted Rachel, though she appeared a little doubtful about the accuracy of that specific term. She looked torn; clearly willing to do anything to get Finn to take her back, but reluctant to hurt Puck in the process. 'And he's in Glee club. We have to sing together. And I kissed him!'

'Regardless of who kissed who, and though I'm glad to hear Puck's morals have improved at least a little bit since Quinn, you need to tell him to leave,' said Carole firmly.

Rachel looked upset, but she didn't argue, wiping the remaining tears off her face with the back of her hand, and she picked up her phone, dialling Puck's number and setting it back down. A dial tone filled the room for a few seconds - and then there was a muffled clatter as Puck answered.

'Hey, Rachel?'

'Hi, Noah,' Rachel replied nervously. 'Look, now's not a really good time and I don't think we should be -'

'I know, I just think we should work out some way to explain to Finn -'

Puck's voice was cut off suddenly, with a strangled yell and a thump. Rachel looked at Carole, confused.

'Puck?'

There was a pause, and then - 'What the hell? Kurt's dad just tackled me!'

Oh.

Crap.

Rachel shrieked and ran over to her window; Carole, inwardly cursing her husband's recent lack of inhibitions when it came to inflicting violence on the students of McKinley, followed her. It was dark now, but the lawn was illuminated by porch lights; and wrestling in the middle of all that silky, perfectly manicured grass - square and exposed like a boxing ring - was Burt and Puck (and a small, black, phone-shaped thing on the grass next to them that she assumed was the reason they could still hear them both grunting through Rachel's Nokia). Puck seemed to be merely trying to fight Burt off, and his superior size and muscles were doing the trick - Burt, however, was throwing himself into causing Puck pain. The result was Puck on his back on the ground, his hands raised above his shoulders to keep off a panting, swinging Burt whose face was growing red... Carole's heart started thumping hard. His heart...

'We've got to stop them!' shouted Rachel, and she sped off out of her room. Carole followed her, berating herself for listening to Burt's idiocy and coming here in the first place - the plan was falling apart. Before she reached the landing, her own cellphone started buzzing in her pocket, and the tune of 'I Think I Want To Marry You' chirped at her like some sick, evil little munchkin, the technological version of those rude little kids who like to tell potty jokes at funerals. Rachel, still just visible from the top of the stairs, disappeared out the front door - and Carole hurried after her, pulling her phone out at the same time.

'Hello?' she said breathlessly. Wait, why was she answering her phone? Burt and Puck were fighting on the front lawn. She could still hear their muffled yells, now joined by Rachel's screaming of peace platitudes.

'Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding!'

... Gandhi?

'Carole! Thank God you picked up -'

Kurt's voice was strained and jerky with his own breathing, and there was rustling and jingling as if his phone was being shaken - it sounded as though he was running, fast.

'Kurt?' asked Carole, stopping in her tracks. He sounded anxious. 'Are you alright? What's going on?'

'Finn kind of knows what you're doing.'

What?

'What?'

'You said you were going to get groceries and you've been gone for almost forty-five minutes! The grocery store is on our street! Finn may think the congregation of verbs has something to do with stars that form words in the sky but he's not an idiot.'

Oh God. Oh God. Things could not possibly get any worse. Finn was going to kill her and Burt was either going to have a heart attack or get arrested for assaulting a minor.

'So what - he just guessed I was at Rachel's?' How would he possibly guess that?

'He pulled it out of me,' panted Kurt, ashamed. 'He can be very persuasive when he concentrates - he once convinced Mercedes to come to school without a single piece of jewelry. He knows you're at Rachel's - he's on his way there now! I'm running after him but he's a lot bigger than me and I lost sight of him a while ago - Rachel's house is only about twelve blocks away, he should be there soon -'

Just as Kurt paused to take breath, Carole heard another voice join the fray outside; deep and angry and very familiar. She ran out the front door.

Rachel's pleas for Burt and Puck to take inspiration from Gandhi's policies on peace had clearly and unsurprisingly failed, but Burt seemed to be tiring and had decided to just knee Puck instead of expending energy on raising his arms; Puck now just looked bored and a little annoyed, glancing at Rachel with an expression that blatantly said 'See what I do for you?' No-one had noticed Finn yet, standing on the footpath behind them and looking murderous.

'What the hell?'

It was as if everyone on the lawn had been electrically shocked; they all started and their heads whipped around to look at Finn. Burt looked sheepish; Puck looked apprehensive; Rachel looked terrified. She stepped towards Carole's son with tears in her eyes.

'Finn?'

'Rachel, what the hell is Puck doing here?' asked Finn furiously. Rachel flinched at his tone; harsh, unforgiving and cold, and Carole couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

'Dude, I was just -'

'Shut up, Puck, I asked Rachel,' snapped Finn, sparing a filthy look for the guy on the ground who was now just lying propped up on his elbows next to Burt, who scrambled quickly at his knees and at whose sight Finn's mouth dropped open in stunned disbelief.

'Burt, were you fighting Puck?'

His eyes roved the lawn, as if looking for something else to be astonished at; and then they lifted towards the house and he caught Carole's eyes where she stood in the doorway.

'Mom!' he yelled, striding forward past Rachel, past Puck and Burt to stand in front of her on the porch with clenched fists and betrayal in his eyes. 'You came to talk to Rachel?'

Carole stared back at her son. He didn't look like a boy who was heartbroken over his girlfriend's cheating; who missed her or loved her. He looked awful; angry and hard. But Carole could see, because she had known him since he was born, that the real reason for his anger was that Carole's visit to Rachel had made him think there might be another side to the story. That he was wrong. And she could see that he did love Rachel. He just needed to make Rachel see that, and forget about everyone else but the two of them.

'I came to find out why she kissed Puck,' she said gently. 'And I know you're mad at her, but I think you should listen to what she has to say.'