A/N: Remember last chapter when I promised lots of smut this chapter? I lied. Sorry. But absolutely with 100% certainty there will be lots next chapter. As saddened as you may be by this, know that I made this decision with you guys in mind for a couple reasons. First this chapter was already fairly long and if I added in the next part it would likely be more than double its size. The biggest reason, though, was because it takes me forever to write smut and I have to take lots of breaks, so I wanted to give you guys this to read while I take my time with the other and not have such a long wait in between chapters. So there's my reason.

A/N2: I also wanted to mention that this story has passed 100,000 hits! Wow! that's crazy! Thanks to all my lovely readers who are still with me as I drum out this ridiculously long story (I believe it's somewhere around 220 pages as a single word document)!

All that being said, I hope you still enjoy and as always Read and Review :D!


I ended up watching the movie with Rachel's dads while Rachel prepared our dinner in the kitchen. I had asked her if she wanted help when I got out of the bathroom, but she told me she was fine and before I could press it further, Hiram's hand was on my elbow, leading me to the couch.

Although there was a couch and a Lazyboy, the Berry men insisted that I sit in between them on the couch and spent more of the children's movie debating the accuracy of it, than actually watching it. I wasn't interested in watching it anyways, I was fairly sure that no one over the age of five was interested in watching it, and listening to them bicker on either side of me was much more exciting.

I couldn't remember the last time I had actually sat down with just my parents and done anything as a family. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd had dinner together. So spending time with the Berry men made up for all that I was missing with my own family. Best of all, at no point did Rachel's dads ever make me feel left out, or as if my opinions weren't important. I didn't have too many opportunities to share my opinions, since it quickly became clear that Rachel acquired her abundant need to express herself vocally from both of her parents, but it didn't matter. Just like I had enjoyed watching their morning routine, I enjoyed their afternoon one just as much.

"Have you decided which colleges you're applying to yet, Brittany," Hiram asked, halfway through the movie.

"Dear, I already told you that she's training for a biking career," Leroy said, before I could answer.

"Biking," Hiram questioned, "As in Tour de France? Have you seen the thighs on some of those men?"

"Actually," I said, shyly, "It's motocross, not cycling."

"Sorry, Brittany," Leroy apologized, covering his mouth with the tips of his fingers, "I'm much more fluent in Broadway than extreme sports."

"Extreme sports," Hiram gasped dramatically, "That sounds dangerous. I once saw one of those skateboarders that hang around the library lose his manhood by falling onto a railing."

"Well that's one issue that I'll never have to worry about," I giggled earning a soft smack on the shoulder from a smirking Leroy, then I regained my composure as I admitted, "It can get pretty dangerous at times and it is true that you'll never be a good rider if you don't take any risks. But I've been riding since I was six and I'm pretty good at knowing when I'm going to fall and how to fall properly so that I don't hurt myself. I'm not going to lie, though, even the best riders fall, break bones, or worse. It's just the risk you gotta take."

"Have you told Rachel about this," Hiram asked, glancing nervously towards his partner.

"Sure," I nodded, but then when I thought about it, I realized we really hadn't discussed the fact that injuries were almost a usual occurrence in motocross and I knew that all of her knowledge about the sport was likely what had come from me, "I mean, I think she knows. She's watched me practice and went to the competition today so she can see how dangerous it could be. I don't think I've specifically talked about the dangers, though."

"That's probably a talk you're going to want to have with her," Leroy suggested, then added, "Soon."

"I don't think she'd be as enthusiastic and pushing you into it if she was aware that there's a risk of death every time you get on your bike," Hiram said, reluctantly.

"You think she'll try to get me to do something else," I asked disheartened, my eyes falling to my fidgeting fingers in my lap.

There was a pause between the Berrys and I refused to glance up at their faces, afraid that I would find the answer I didn't want to hear in their expressions.

"I think Rachel will support you in whatever you want to do," Leroy replied, finally, "She knows first hand the need to follow your dreams. I just think she should be aware of the dangers and if she doesn't find out about it from you, it could cause her to react a little harshly."

"Rachel has always been known to act a little over dramatically," Hiram reasoned, with an assuring pat on my knee, "Don't worry so much. Even if Rachel is a little apprehensive of the idea, she'll come around after some time."

"I'm certain that at this point, there's nothing that can break you two up," Leroy chuckled.

I forced a smile, but I suddenly wasn't feeling so confident anymore.


Rachel cooked a vegan lasagna for supper that was so good I could hardly believe it was vegan. I always expected the food to be tasteless or gross, but was surprised to find that I was wrong.

The actual dinner went smoothly, her dads even making a toast to our relationship and couldn't possibly look more happy that we were together. I wasn't normally a favourite among parents, especially when I was 'dating' their child, so it was a nice change to have her fathers like me so much.

I helped her fathers with the dishes after dinner and once we were finished I saw Rachel coming down the stairs with a duffle bag hanging over her shoulder. I watched as her dads exchanged a glance before Hiram spoke up, "Are you going somewhere, Rachel?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded, "I'm going to be staying over at Brittany's tonight."

Leroy shot me a pointed look, raising an eyebrow as Hiram responded, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not," Rachel asked and I could see that she was starting to get angry, "I've slept at Brittany's before."

"Yes," Leroy agreed, "But now that your relationship seems to be getting serious, I'm not sure if it's such a good idea that you two continue having sleepovers without parental supervision."

"That is entirely unfair," Rachel protested, "I'm not a child anymore, I'm sixteen, and I'm old enough to make these kinds of decisions for myself."

"Rach, you are still a child," Leroy gently reasoned, "You're our child and we just worry about you."

"You don't need to worry," Rachel defended, "Brittany and I aren't doing anything wrong and we will still be at school tomorrow, on time for all our classes. What are you so afraid of?"

Hiram and Leroy exchanged another glance and Leroy gave him a shrug as if he was backing down. Hiram sighed as he turned back to his daughter and said sternly, "Alright but if I get any calls from school tomorrow that you were even a minute late for school, this will be the last time."

"You won't," Rachel said excitedly, hopping towards her fathers and wrapping her arms around both at the same time, "I promise."

"Go," Hiram said, shaking his head, "Before I change my mind."

Before I knew it, Rachel was grabbing my hand and dragging me towards their front door, with a skip in her step and cheerful tone to her voice as she said her goodbyes. Then we were out the door and in my car before I'd even registered exactly what had taken place.

Her hands cupped my cheeks as she yanked me towards her, kissing me eagerly as I was still trying to catch up. When she finally released my face and broke the kiss, her entire face was beaming with excitement.

"Wha-," I tried to ask, but she was already speaking before I could even finish the word.

"Do you see how much they like you," she shrieked, her eyes lighting up and wider than I'd ever seen them, "They've never once liked any of my suitors, but they absolutely love you. I can't believe they just gave us their blessing to have intercourse."

"They did," I asked, trying to think back to when that happened.

"They're not ignorant to believe that we wouldn't be sharing a bed tonight, especially without your parents around," Rachel explained, "Although I really can't picture your parents minding even if they were around."

"They wouldn't," I commented, slightly bitter, but Rachel was too excited to notice.

"They were so hesitant to let me go because they knew we would be having sex," Rachel continued to explain, "But they gave in, they gave me permission to spend the night knowing that you would be defiling their daughter and they're alright with that."

"I'm not sure I like it when you say it like that," I said, frowning at the term. It made it sound like I was doing something bad to her that she didn't want.

"Sorry," she apologized, "I just mean that is how they would see it. I'm their baby and well, at least in my Dad's eyes, I'm still their innocent virgin. But after tonight they will both know that I'm a woman and they gave their blessing for me to do so."

"I think you may be over-analyzing it a bit too much," I said, blankly staring at their garage door in front of my car as her words began to make my head spin, "I don't think that's exactly what they were doing. I think they just trust you to be able to make the best decisions for yourself. That doesn't exactly mean that they're giving us their blessing to have a sexual relationship. I don't think any dad does that. They're probably hoping you'll decide the best decision for yourself is to wait until you're twenty-five."

Rachel's posture slumped as I finished speaking and I instantly felt guilty for killing her delight.

"Still," she said quietly, after a brief silence, "They're letting me stay overnight at your house. They've never let me do that with anyone I was dating in the past and were always very strict that they leave the house by nine o'clock. I think that is something to celebrate."

"Definitely," I smiled, taking her hand and lifting the back of it to my lips, "You ready for those orgasms."

"You have no idea," Rachel blushed as I started the car, "I've been uncomfortable all supper just thinking about it. I thought I was going to lose it when I watched you lick your fork clean when you were finished your meal. Never have I ever wanted to be a fork so badly."

"Don't worry," I chuckled as I pulled the car out of their driveway and began to head towards my house, "I'll be forking you soon enough."


I expected us to fall into my bedroom, unable to take our hands off each other, and start going at it as soon as we got back to my place, but apparently Rachel's recurring shyness returned and instead we innocently made our way to my room holding hands. I closed my bedroom door behind us and moved towards her, my hands tucking her long silky hair behind her ears as I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, pulling back for a moment before repeating the kiss several more times. She didn't really seem to respond each time I kissed her, her lips unmoving and not even attempting to lock against mine as I continued to place fleeting kisses against hers. A dozen or so pecks later I finally pulled back with a frown.

"What's wrong," I asked, brushing my knuckles over her smooth cheeks as she gazed up at me.

"I'm not really that good of a dancer," she blurted out suddenly, "I mean, unless in your fantasy I was performing one of the scenes from Swan Lake. Realistically, though, you're probably imagining less ballet and more exotic dancing and I'm not really all that good at sexy."

"And maybe a month ago I would've accepted that as a valid excuse," I smiled, dragging my thumb across her swollen bottom lip, "but I know better now, or did you forget all those lessons I gave you and the amount of cold showers we had to take after those lessons?"

"That was different," she smiled, her eyes shifting away from me, "You weren't watching me like how you're going to be watching me now."

"Well," I said, "For the record I was, I was just good at hiding it. What's freaking you out?"

"That I'm not going to be sexy at all and you're going to laugh at me," she confessed, anxiously, "That I'm not going to live up to your fantasy me."

"I can assure you I won't be laughing," I promised, "and everything you do is sexy to me. You, just standing here and admitting your insecurities is sexy to me. Watching you tie your shoes or brush your teeth is sexy. You don't even have to try and you turn me on. I know you can do it. I know you are capable of doing this dance for me because I've seen you do it before. It's what we've been doing during all our practices. But if you don't want to, of course you don't have to. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to and I won't be angry. There's a million other things we can do instead."

"I want to," she said, her fingers finding the bottom of my shirt and tugging lightly on it, like she had been all day, "But is it alright if we just lay down for awhile and talk?"

"That is perfectly fine with me," I nodded, pressing a final kiss to her lips before leading her to my bed. I laid down on my back and she settled on top of me, her head resting on the pillow beside mine as our legs tangled together and she placed her hand on my chest.

I felt her eyes studying my face as her fingers picked at the fabric of my shirt and I whispered, "What would you like to talk about?"

She was quiet for a while before she whispered back, "Anything you want."

I tried to think about something non-sexual to talk about, but after awhile I decided that maybe if we talked about it and were more open about it, she would feel less nervous and self-conscious.

"What else turns you on, besides the audience thing," I asked, running my fingers up and down the length of her back.

"You," she smiled, without missing a beat, "Everything about you. You're so different than the person I thought you were and every time I learn something new about you I find myself even more attracted to you."

"I know what you mean," I agreed, turning my head so that I could stare back at her, while our noses now were less than half an inch apart, "But I meant, tell me about your fantasies and give me explicit details."

She smirked as I used her own words against her, then answered, "I thought you were going to tell me a fantasy that was just as embarrassing as my audience one."

"As I recall," I said, smartly, "I basically gave you a novel length response, while you've only given me a vague description. I need details."

"Honestly," she said softly, lifting her head off the pillow and propping it up with her hand as her expression turned serious and she watched me carefully, "and I'm not saying this because I think it's what you want to hear, but I'm willing to try anything and everything with you. I don't really know what turns me on, exactly, because I don't really know too much about sex, except for the normal stuff and the things I've seen on television. I just want to do everything and try everything with you and we can figure out together the things that we really like doing and the stuff that maybe doesn't turn out so well. I think figuring all that stuff out with you is the biggest fantasy."

"Everything," I asked skeptically.

"I think so," Rachel said with some uncertainty, "I trust you and I meant what I said before, I would never judge you or get scared away because of something you like. I also hope that anytime I may find something that I would like to experiment with, you would be open to trying it as well."

I thought about her fantasy of someone watching us while we had sex and had to admit that it wouldn't be the first time that I had done it. In the past, Santana and I had sex a few times with Puck watching and although it wasn't specifically a turn on for me, it wasn't horrible.

"I am," I said, after awhile, offering a smile as I combed my hand through her hair, "And if you really want to try this having sex with someone watching, I'll do it. Just as long as it isn't some creepy old stranger."

"Really," Rachel beamed, her eyes lighting up as I nodded, "I don't want to have sex with anyone else, I'm not looking for a threesome or anything like that, just-"

"Performing," I finished for her, "You get off on the attention."

"Yes," she said, playing with my shirt for a moment before saying, "I feel like you have a lot of things you think about doing and I want you to feel like you can be open with me."

"Maybe I just want to keep some mystery," I chuckled, "If I tell you all my fantasies in one night, there will be nothing to tell later on. Let's just try them one at a time."

"Fair enough," she agreed, with some reluctance, "but how about we make a deal?"

"Bargaining," I questioned with a teasing tone, then gazed up at the ceiling while I thought that over, "Alright, what are the terms?"

"Every time that we fulfill one of your fantasies, you have to reveal a new one," she answered with a smile, her fingers tracing a line down my chest, between my breasts, and down my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my jeans.

"Sounds reasonable," I nodded, smiling back at her, "But I want you to do some research and come to me with ideas too. I don't want to be the only one dictating how our sex life is going to be."

"You want me to watch porn," Rachel asked, quirking an eyebrow.

I had been thinking more a long the lines of internet research, but porn movies would basically be the same thing anyway, "Sure. Make use of Google, watch some movies, then come back to me with things you want to try."

"Can we watch the movies together," she asked, her eyes focusing on my wall as her finger absently traced a line just above the hem of my jeans.

"Would that be something that would turn you on," I asked, a hint of amusement as I watched her blush slightly and her eyes began to shift between mine and the wall.

"Maybe," she whispered, "I've never watched a video of that sort before. It may be stimulating to watch one together."

Before I could respond, I felt my phone begin to vibrate in my pocket, exactly where Rachel's hip was covering, and she giggled while raising her eyebrows at me. She shifted so that she could dig her hand into my pocket and I watched her with amusement as she pulled out the phone and looked at the screen.

"It's your sister," she laughed, handing me the phone, and my amusement immediately vanished.

I silenced it without a second thought and dropped my phone on my night table while turning my attention back to her.

"You don't want to talk to her," Rachel asked curiously, glancing over at my phone.

"I can call her back later," I said, tightening my hold on her, "She probably just wants to tell me about the most recent frat party she went to and how many numbers she got. I'd rather give you my full attention while you're here."

Rachel smiled at my response, rewarding me with a brief kiss before resting her head back on her hand.

"Can I ask you something," Rachel said hesitantly after a short silence, her eyes falling to watch her hand tracing circles on my stomach.

"Course," I said, "You can ask me whatever you want."

"What happens if you get a motocross deal with this guy," she said softly, as if she was afraid of the answer, "What happens to us when I go to New York and you go to wherever it is you'll go to be a part of his team?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully, and I could feel her body slump at the response, "I would want to still stay together. I could come visit you on breaks and we could still talk on the phone everyday and have video chats. If you're serious about us, we could make it work."

"I am serious," she answered quickly, her eyes meeting mine to show her certainty, "I'm just worried because when I move to New York, I'm not going to leave. My future is there and I've always planned on spending the rest of my life there. But you don't know where you're going and it sounds like you'd always be moving from place to place. I can't be the girlfriend that follows you around going from event to event like some kind of groupie. I want to be with you, but realistically, I don't know how long I could stay in a relationship with you when I can only see you for a few weeks out of the year."

"You don't want me to do motocross," I sighed, thinking back to the conversation I had today with her dads.

"No, I do," she nodded, "I would never want to get in the way of your dreams, just like you would never get in the way of mine. If you ever quit motocross for me, I would feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. More than anything I want you to be able to do what you love. I'm just afraid that our dreams will force us to go our separate ways."

"We'd make it work, Rach," I repeated confidently, "You'll get breaks where you'll be able to come see me and I'll get breaks where I'll be able to go to New York. Don't get yourself worked up about this yet. We don't even know if I'm going to get on his team and even if I do get on it we don't really know what it's about. We have no idea where it would be based and where I would be training. If it follows the regular motocross season I would get months off that I could spend with you. Even if it doesn't, I promise that I would find a way to make it work."

"You sound so sure," Rachel commented, doubtfully.

"Because I am sure," I laughed, giving her a gentle shake, "If I can feel this strongly about you after only a few weeks, I can't imagine how much I'll love you by the time you're ready to move off to New York. I'll do whatever it takes to keep us together. Even if I have to spend every last dime I earn, paying for plane tickets every weekend, I'd do it. Happily."

"I-I wouldn't be able to leave Broadway for you," she admitted guiltily, her eyes never leaving some insignificant spot on my shirt, "I'm not trying to hurt you and I don't want you to think that I don't love you-"

"I would never ask you to leave Broadway," I interrupted, taking her hand that was still fidgeting on my stomach with my injured one, "It's not an either/or situation and it will never be. And you don't have to feel bad for saying that. Anyone who would ever make you choose between them and your dream is not someone who understands who you are, nor are they someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. I keep telling you that you were born to be a star because I mean it. You were meant to sing on stage and share your talents with the world. I will never mind taking second place to that because that's one of the things that I love about you."

"I can't believe you're so understanding," she chuckled, "Finn would never-"

"You have to start realizing that I'm not Finn or Jesse or any of those other people," I interrupted again, "Like I've said before, I'm nothing like them. Finn never once treated you the way you should've been treated and no one could understand why you'd still be all over him. It was like you thought so bad about yourself that you actually believed it was alright for him to act like an ass to you. I mean, he actually broke up with you so he could go on a date with San and I, thinking he would get a threesome out of it, then when we ended up paying more attention to each other than to him, he instantly tried to get back with you. Then he-"

"Okay," Rachel said, covering my mouth with her hand, "I get it. I was foolish for thinking a relationship with him would work. I don't know what possessed me to believe he was the right person for me, or even that I could love someone who never showed me any respect, but it's not like you've never been in an unhealthy relationship. Take Santana for example."

"What about Santana," I asked, curiously, pulling her hand from my mouth.

"Come on," Rachel scoffed, "You can't honestly believe that was a good idea."

"Why not," I asked again, beginning to feel a little defensive, "The Santana you know isn't the real Santana."

"Oh I know the real Santana," Rachel said, bitterly, rolling her eyes, "She's cruel and selfish and you said so yourself that she could never really love you. She's not capable of it."

"That's not what I said," I corrected, my tone a little harsh, "I said that she couldn't love me. As in me specifically, because she was already in love with you."

Rachel's eyes shot up to mine, stunned, as if we never had a conversation about this earlier. Then after a few minutes of silence she rolled her eyes and said sourly, "I can assure you that whatever feelings Santana may have for me, love is certainly not one of them."

The hard look she gave me before pushing away angrily and laying back on the bed beside me, told me that there was something she wasn't telling me. It was obvious something had happened between them that I didn't know about.

"What did she do to you," I asked, rolling onto my side and resting my head in my hand.

"You've seen what she has done to me," Rachel protested, folding her arms tightly across her chest, "She has bullied me everyday for the past three years. She calls me names and throws slushies at me."

"That can't be it though," I pressed, knowing there was more.

"That's not enough," she demanded, her eyes burning with fury when she finally looked at me again, "How about physically assaulting me in the hallway? Is that enough?"

"There's something else, though," I said, "Rachel, you have to tell me. Santana's my friend and if she did something to you that I don't know about-"

"Friend," Rachel repeated, almost screaming as she said the word, "I thought after what happened on Friday you weren't friends anymore. I remember you telling her that you would never be friends again."

"She's my best friend, Rach," I sighed, "We fight and then we make up. It's what we do. She wasn't herself on Friday and I think now that she's realized her feelings she's going to be a lot different. She's always going to be my best friend."

"How can you still be friends with her after everything that she did to me," Rachel yelled with such ferocity I actually shrunk back into the bed, "How many times do I have to keep reminding you that she assaulted me? You were there. You saw it happen. Even after that you can still be friends with her?"

"She wasn't herself," I tried to explain, "We all get a little crazy sometimes and do things we don't mean to do."

"Normal people don't physically attack others when they're upset," she spat, shaking her head as her hands balled into tight fists.

"I do," I said softly, causing her head to whip towards me, "Remember the cheerleader I punched in the face at the country club dinner? After she insulted you I got so angry that I punched her right in the nose."

Rachel was silent again, her eyes still blazing as she stared at me.

"Are you really going to tell me I can't be friends with Santana anymore," I asked, nervously, "I really think things are going to be different now. She's been suppressing her feelings for so long that it was inevitable that they would come out into the scene that unfolded in the hallway. If you knew what it was like to fight who you are for all these years and then watch your best friend go off with the girl you've been in love with all this time, I think you'd understand. If you knew her like I know her-"

"Stop saying 'love' like it's something she can actually feel," Rachel said, her words were spoken with so much hate in her voice it was worrying me, "I know the real Santana. You're the one who is being deceived."

After another minute of silence, she hastily pushed herself up and leapt over me, off the bed, "I think it's best if I leave."

I swiftly grabbed her wrist tightly, before she could move and held her firmly, "No. We need to talk about this. Obviously this is something that bothers you a lot and I know, Rach, I know that you're not telling me the whole story. Something is going on. I can't fix this if you won't tell me everything. Most of your reasoning for hating her are things that I did to you too and you were able to forgive me for it. So why can't you forgive Santana if she changes?"

Rachel stilled, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as her jaw clenched, "There are things she's done that I just can't forgive. I can't ever forgive."

"Did she," I paused, swallowing hard as my eyes swept over her body, "Has she forced herself on you or-"

"No," Rachel sighed, opening her eyes and looking down at me. The anger was gone, but she looked tired and defeated, "Nothing like that. The hallway was the first time she'd ever physically hurt me. She just- a long time ago she fooled me into trusting her, then used that trust to break me. I've been bullied all my life. I've always been different and people have always picked on me for it, but it never really hurt me. Those kids meant nothing to me and I couldn't really care less about their opinions, so their words were unpleasant, but never crippling. Santana was the first person who hurt me. The first person to show me how cruel the world could be. She gave me hope, made me believe I could trust her, then the second I finally let someone in and allowed myself to be vulnerable, she took advantage of me and hurt me in the most painful way imaginable. She was the first person to break my heart."

"You were in love with her," I breathed, my stomach in so many knots I thought I was going to throw up, and my hand fell limply from her wrist. I never imagined that. I never thought that Rachel had ever had feelings for Santana and hearing that she had was sickening. Suddenly those fears that she would ever leave me for Santana didn't seem too silly anymore and the panic building inside me was unbearable. Rachel's eyes shot up to mine as I said the words, but then quickly looked away with an expression that resembled guilt.

"She didn't break my heart in the romantic sense," Rachel mumbled, " I thought I had finally found a friend."

Even though she denied it, I still couldn't relax. I couldn't make myself believe that there was nothing more between them. Jealousy was such a new emotion for me and I still didn't know how to deal with it. It was a stupid feeling that made me want to cry and scream and punch holes in walls all at the same time. Maybe she was being honest and there really wasn't anything that had happened between them, but my mind just wouldn't accept it. Suddenly all I could think about were these images of Santana and Rachel having sex and I couldn't push them away. I knew that part wasn't true because it was obvious that Rachel had just lost her virginity to me last night. But my mind was running wild with all these crazy scenarios and no matter what I kept telling myself, they wouldn't go away.

"When was this," I whispered, my voice cracking as I stared down at my hands, clenching into tight fists that made the pain seer up and down my broken arm.

"The first week of freshman year," Rachel answered emotionless.

"The janitor's closet," I said, everything suddenly starting to make sense.

"Yes," Rachel admitted, sitting down beside me on the bed, "I-"

"Stop," I said firmly, but still whispering, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Rachel didn't respond, staying quiet as she sat beside me on the edge of the bed pulling and twisting her fingers in her lap. I was feeling so many emotions right then, it was hard to differentiate one from the other. I knew I shouldn't be so upset over something that happened so long ago, especially since I had no idea what exactly had taken place, but the funny thing about emotions was that it was almost impossible to control them.

"Are you mad at me," Rachel asked with a shaky voice and I could see the fear in her eyes as she looked up at me.

I sighed, calming myself down because I knew that for Rachel's and also our relationship's sake, I needed to bury whatever I was feeling now and not let myself take it out on her. I threw my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me and pressing a kiss to her temple, "For what, Rach? You haven't done anything wrong. I'm just tired of fighting about Santana. Every time her name comes up we have an argument and I don't want her to be the reason we break apart."

"Me either," Rachel agreed, moving her hand to rest on the inside of my knee, "But you always stand up for her, despite all the bad things she does to not only me, but lots of other people and I'm wondering what she has to do for you to finally take a stand and say that you won't put up with it anymore? How far does she have to go?"

"Just one more chance, Rach," I pleaded, nuzzling my cheek against the top of her head, "If anything happens, anytime you so much as feel threatened, I'll end our friendship. I'm not asking you to be friends with her or even to like her, but just let her have one more chance before I have to end things."

Rachel was silent, watching her finger trace different patterns on my knee, before finally covering it with my hand and whispered, "One more. For you."

"Thank you," I sighed with relief and pressed another kiss to her forehead. She leaned into me for a moment longer then stood up from the bed, leaving my embrace. I panicked, worried she was heading for the door again and said, sadly, "Please don't go, Rach."

She turned around and looked down at me with a bit of surprise in her eyes and then shook her head, "Oh, no. I'm not leaving."

She smiled as she stood over me, her fingers stroking my cheeks as she leaned in and locked our lips together. Her hands moved from my cheeks to the back of my neck as mine held her hips and the kiss carried on for a few more seconds before she broke away, smiling down at me lazily.

"Where were you going then," I asked, enjoying the feel of her fingers playing with my hair.

"Well," Rachel said, combing my hair back with her fingers, "I thought I might change into something less comfortable. Like one of those silly red uniforms you enjoy so much."

"Really," I asked, surprised, "I thought our conversation would have killed the mood."

The sly, sexy smile that appeared across Rachel's lips seemed strange when she always looked so innocent, but it did a very good job of making my panties uncomfortable as she twined it with a slow and deliberate swipe of her tongue across her top lip.

"We just had a fight," she said, regaining some of the innocence to her eyes, but I knew it she was doing it purposely, "A pretty big fight, I think. Definitely the biggest we've had since our relationship turned sexual."

"Well, it's only been a day since our relationship turned sexual," I said, narrowing my eyes at her and trying to understand where she was going with this.

"Nevertheless," she continued, tracing my lips with her finger, "We had a fight and although my knowledge of sex is lacking, I have heard that make up sex is extremely fulfilling. I believe we should test out this theory. If you are willing of course."

"Rachel," I said firmly and with enough seriousness in my tone for her sexy act to falter slightly, "I could be dead asleep at three in the morning and I will still be willing. Now let's test that theory."