A/N - The more I write, the more intrigued I am with Pezberry. Initially, I wanted to alternate the chapters with pezberry and faberry but it did not work out that way.

The One That Got Away

The fifth time Rachel kissed a girl was at her Graduation or to be exact, two hours and twenty minutes after she got her degree and sung her original song on stage, leaving her dads blubbering in the audience and almost missing that last note when she finally spotted her standing off in the corner.

She thinks it's a mirage, her imagination in overdrive like the time she was so sure Quinn was standing in the rain on the opposite side of the street staring at her apartment window, a forlorn expression on her face. Only, a boy had come, twirling the girl who just looked like Quinn, around and kissing her, leaving Rachel feeling foolish and still very much alone.

Except this wasn't a conjured image from her fevered brain but Santana actually standing there. Sunglasses over her eyes and still wearing a pissed look (Rachel could tell even from this distance) along with a tasteful little black dress with a demure neck line that accentuates her chest and makes it completely unfair because Rachel cannot tear her eyes away. It was bringing a gun to a knife fight as she held that last note and instead of closing her eyes and letting loose, she keeps her eyes focused on Santana (and maybe a bit at her chest), still holding the note regardless.

One Year Ago

"You were a bit sharp there at the end but it was…it was beautiful." It's not the sentence she had wanted to open with. There was a joke somewhere about long notes and hearing Rachel come that she figured would at least elicit a smile if not a roll of the brunette's eyes followed by a huff and a perfect Rachel Berry storm out.

But seeing Rachel on stage, hearing that voice (which was worth sitting through lectures and critiques and fights over solos all through high school if she were being that honest), it was truly a gift, and all of it made her realize that she was still that confused girl who knew what she wanted but didn't really know how to get it.

Her behavior had been abysmal but worse, she had not picked up on the fact that Rachel had been hurting too, that she had wanted to forget something or rather someone as well last year. And Santana figured that taking the year to take stock of her life, actually applying herself in her classes and getting early admission to law school, it all finally culminated in her knowing that she still had one more thing to do.

Rachel stares at her, wide eyed and still trying to decipher the hidden message she just knows is coating all of Santana's words. She just doesn't get it though as she stands there looking back, waiting for the punch line or maybe just the punch.

"About last year…using you.. not about the sex, that was..that was pretty spectacular but I …I am sorry about after, not keeping in touch. You were…" Her words are stilted and she actually blushes when she mentions the sex and Rachel wants to ask her who she really is and what happened to the fiery Latina who didn't give a damn.

Only, she actually feels her heart flutter at this incarnation of the ex-Head Cheerio and try as she might, she can't help the small smile from forming on her face, even if she can recall with great clarity feeling like she really didn't matter for the longest time and still carrying the vestiges of that feeling even if it has somewhat lessened now with Santana standing right before her.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" It's about three in the afternoon and she needs to meet her dads for dinner, hopefully not inebriated but maybe it would help her get through the inevitable questions of whether she had someone special in her life that they were primed to ask and fret about when she would shake her head.

And this time, Santana really does surprise her with her answer and she has to really control the urge to reach out and touch Santana to see if she really was there and maybe tug on her hair a bit just to make her react and say something that would indicate that she was still the Santana Lopez. "You ever find any of those coffee shops with free trade coffee beans?"

She remembered. Well Rachel remembered every thing, she just never thought anyone else would. She remembered every prank and mean word along with the songs sung together and post win hugs or cries depending on the results from all those competitions. And definitely all the conversations that probably meant more to her than the people she was having them with. Because she was prone to feel every single thing, she just never forgot.

"Yeah, I..umm..I did." She gestures for Santana to follow as she makes her way to that one café where she has this table in the back that gives her a view of the sidewalk. She's written more than a few songs there, taken calls from her dads and daydreamed about her future, all happy memories and on two occasions brought a girl. The first one had been in her sociology class, tall, blonde and in no way (in her mind) reminded her of Quinn.

And she guessed this was the second time even if it would be a stretch of the imagination to call it a date but here they were, all dressed up and actually speaking civilly or as civil as you could get if you got over the sunglasses and the sneer that seems to be Santana's go to look.

Rachel actually takes the initiative and orders for them, extra hot, tall, black coffee, Arabica beans with just a hint of cinnamon for Santana and a Chai Latte, soya milk with some foam for herself. She purposefully ignores the eye roll she receives from the Latina as she moves towards the pick-up counter, craning her neck to see if her table at the back was available.

She knows this entire situation should feel uncomfortable, sitting across from the girl who treated her with disdain in high school, ignored her one brave overture that last week in Lima and who last year swept into her life, slept with her (giving her probably the other best sex experience she's ever had) and then admitted that it was a ploy to forget Brittany.

However, to Rachel, it really doesn't feel all that bad compared to her own issues of denial, avoidance and right now paralyzing fear that she's already peaked in college and the real world was just going to chew her up and spit her out and she'd never find love.

Which meant in her mind, sitting across from Santana in the one place in New York that she felt safe and happy in wasn't that bad compared to what she needed to face tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. Knowing she wanted things (maybe just one person) that maybe she could never get.

"How did you know my order?"

"We went to the Lima Bean weekly that last year." Sometimes in groups and on one occasion only Quinn had turned up and Rachel remember her wheeling herself towards their table and instead of talking about song lists or dance moves, Quinn had told her about Yale and which college she'd hope to get into. It was before Rachel understood why she felt compelled to reach out to Quinn and Santana and before she accepted that she was in love with one of them.

"So you just remembered my drink order?" Santana really wants to know, to gauge if she had missed out on something then and maybe accept that she should feel regret now.

"Medium Drip and a Non Fat Mocha for Blaine and Kurt. Iced Mocha with extra whip for Mercedes, Vanilla bean latte with mint for Brittany…" She stares at Santana knowing she'd made her point. She had been their friend even if they never wanted to admit it.

"Why did you come?" She's heard Santana's apology or the sorry makings of one and to be honest, she didn't even expect that much. Which meant Santana needed her to forget again maybe or well, she really could not think of any other alternative of why she would turn up. Which meant like before, she had to make up her mind if her dignity or the opportunity to forget was more important, and looking at the black dress hugging all of Santana's curves, Rachel kind of already knows which side of that internal argument she was going to land on.

"You announced your graduation day on your facebook page along with your status."

'Gay' She never did take that down and it was neither a label or a status but just the truth so why bother.

"Who is she? That girl you're trying to forget but…can't." Santana is not sure if she's ready to hear Rachel's confession even if there's this tiny part of her that thinks maybe. She sees Rachel think over the question, her two hands gripping the mug so tightly that she figures there's an internal battle going on somewhere inside the diminutive brunette. She's also hit by that one particular sense memory of those fingers and rounded nails dragging down her arched back.

"Quinn."

And that one name snaps her out of that particular memory, consigning it somewhere deep inside because she's still second best and even if she didn't want to be first here or even if she did, it didn't matter anymore.

Rachel notes the change in Santana's demeanor almost immediately. She cannot reconcile the look though because she sees anger and disappointment, mixed in her brown eyes. They were never...it wasn't…but maybe it could have been and just as sudden, she feels that pang of disappointment within.

"Santana…" it's the first time she's used her name and it does not feel foreign or strange just sad that it took two kisses and four years to get to this point. "You don't even like me." There is no rancor in her voice just a sense of trying to make a connection here even if she knows it's just too damn late for the both of them.

But she sees Santana smile at her statement, not smirk or give her that feral grin that signifies harsh words are on its heels. An actual smile with that dimple peeking through, "I tried…not to like you." She truly had, she had tried to hate Rachel only she never could. "I really did. I mean you're this irritating know it all with the most amazing voice and completely entitled attitude." Rachel actually nods at her description, not in agreement but just because it had been and possibly still was the prevailing view.

"Only…I don't ...I don't hate you, Rachel." And maybe that's why she won't be Rachel's first choice. It can't be about negative acknowledgement, it had to be about being the one and maybe if she had taken the chance that day in Lima or even last year or on any of the intervening days since, maybe things would have turned out differently.

"Well, I don't hate you either. In fact, Santana Lopez…I think I maybe like you." She feels the weight of Rachel's hand as the brunette places it over her own, a physical link augmenting her words.

And then it happens again as Santana arches her eyebrow and Rachel suddenly knows she's a goner, conditioned to take that particular challenge. Pavlov's dog really had nothing on her.

As she leans forward, her forehead touching Santana's, both their eyes open as her lips make contact. The kiss is gentle, soft and so so different from their first. But it also means so much more than that one ever could.

It's not a kiss borne out of a challenge with no thought of consequence and it's definitely not a kiss borne out of hurt and the need to maybe forget for a short time. It's a kiss of what could have been, a hint of what may be and a promise that they could never hate each other.

As she pulls back, she sees that Rachel's crying and she somehow knows it's not about her or what they've shared.

"So, you're gay for Quinn Fabray." No malice in her tone and Rachel actually detects just a hint of regret.

"Yeah. go figure" Makes sense to admit it to the one person who actually can empathize. She wants to ask about Brittany but does not want to ruin this understanding they've finally arrive at. "Although, kissing you made me realize the gay part before Quinn made me realize…the love part."

"Bummer." it was succinct and to the point and Rachel clinks her mug against Santana's coffee cup in agreement at her assessment of her current situation.

"You know those pacts that friends make like if they're both not married by the time they're forty, they'll get together, get married, have kids…" Rachel cannot believe words like friends, pact, married and kids just came out of Santana's mouth but she just nods.

"Let's never do that." And the burst of laughter it gets out of Rachel is sudden and so infectious that they giggle and laugh for a good five minutes before Santana finally continues.

"We're going to be alright."

And when Rachel kisses her goodbye, it doesn't feel like the end but the beginning.

End Part 4

So Pezberry or Faberry?