Chapter 34
PLEASE REVIEW. Sorry for any typos.
Leroy sat on the front step watching Brittany's driveway waiting for Rachel to appear. Finally he saw her. She was walking quickly. Her fists were at her side and she was almost leaning forward. She was angry. He couldn't help but give an amused grin. He was reminded of when she used to stomp around the house when she was angry. She was barely tall enough to reach the kitchen counter. He laughed at the memory. He and Santana used to sit in the kitchen and just watch and listen to her stomp around the house screaming about the injustices of the world. Sooner or later she always tired out, literally. They would find her in some small crawl space asleep. There was something different in her eyes now though. He knew that she wasn't that little girl anymore. However, he couldn't help but hope that she would someday return.
"How could you do that?" Rachel practically huffed as she pushed past him and inside.
He closed the door behind him and folded his arms.
"Do what, monkey?" he asked amused as Rachel responded with a furious shake of her head.
"Stop patronizing me!" she glared at him and he noticed the broken hurt swimming with her fury in her eyes. "You hit her."
"What are you talking about, Rachel?" he asked getting frustrated.
Rachel shook her head in disbelief and disappointment. "You promised you wouldn't do that." Her voice was sad and upset. "You know how important that promise was. And still is!"
He was still looking at her confused. "Rachel, I really don't know what you're talking about. I want to, baby, but I don't. What promise?"
Rachel shook her head and folded her arms. "You hit her!" she cried angrily.
Rachel watched as Leroy finally figured out what she was saying. "You're sister and I have already worked that out, Rachel," he responded gently. "That was a really hard day for all of us. I was frustrated and made a bad choice."
"Several if I remember correctly," Rachel snapped challenging her father. "I heard you outside of my room at the hospital! You treat me as if I'm deaf and naïve. I have ears and a brain! You can't treat her like that! You've always been so hotheaded that you get blinded by your rage and you become an asshole!" The train was speeding now.
"Rachel Barbara Berry!" Leroy scolded. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"
Rachel jumped a little at his yell, but she regained her ground. With her arms still folded she took a step toward her father. "Or what? You'll slap me?"
Leroy was breathing heavily. He was furious, but shocked by her audacity. When did his little girl become like this? He was trying his best to stay in control. Rachel had pushed him once before, but never like this.
"I can't believe you would do that!" Rachel screamed pushing him more actually pushing him this time. "Say something!" she screamed. She shook her head at him pacing slightly. What was happening? This wasn't Rachel. She was upset, but was she really upset about this.
"Rachel! Calm down!" Leroy practically screamed.
Rachel stopped pacing and pointed her finger at her father. "No! You did something terrible and you know it! And I –''
"What's going on?" Santana yelled as she came through the front door and closed it immediately behind her. She set down her bag cautiously not breaking her focus away from Rachel but glancing for a millisecond to Leroy for some answers.
Leroy looked at her unsure. He was clearly angry but he was starting to understand that this might be something else.
"I don't know!" he screamed. "Rachel, will you tell her what the hell is going on?"
"Brittany told me what he did to you at the hospital!"
Santana raised her eyebrows and craned her neck forward. Her jaw dropped slightly. So much was said in that one sentence that Santana could barely begin to process. She released what Rachel was talking about. The slap. The harsh words. She felt her stomach clench. The hospital. She felt a weight in her chest that made it hard to breathe. … And Brittany. Her heart just stopped. Santana's silence seemed to pull Rachel out of her anger trip.
"San?"
Santana looked down at her with a week smile. "It's fine, Rachel. We fixed it." She avoided her father's on-looking eyes. There was tension that was always there between them. She didn't know or understand or even recognize his guilt on his face at Santana's lie. Santana moved Rachel's hair out of her face with both her hands and cupped Rachel's head, bringing her eyes up to meet hers. "Seriously."
Rachel responded with a frustrated sigh. "If you say so." She glared back at Leroy.
"Come on, I'll watch a movie with you." Santana tugged her up the stairs.
Rachel laid against Santana's chest as she watched the movie. They were lying like they did when she was in the hospital and when she couldn't get out of bed. Santana couldn't help but drift back to those moments. Flashes of the blood, Rachel's bruised body, and shattered eyes invaded her memory. She felt Rachel shift against her.
"San, are you listening?" she heard distantly.
"No," she replied truthfully.
Rachel shifted again still cuddled up against her. Something sparked in Santana's brain and as usual it tumbled out of her mouth before she could rein it in.
"You're not flinching and you're laying with me."
Rachel didn't say anything. She looked away for a moment, but not long enough for Santana to recover.
"Was that a question?" she finally asked.
"No," Santana replied. "Just an observation."
Another silence fell on them and it seemed like the volume form the movie increased underneath it.
"I think…. I think I'm comfortable because I had control over it," Rachel muttered. Her face away from Santana's facing the tv again. "I choose it." Her voice trailed off.
Something clicked minimally within Santana. "Every other time you don't expect it," she registered.
The room fell silent again. And Santana smoothed out Rachel's hair as they continued to watch.
"What happened, S?" Rachel's voice was innocent in a way it hadn't been in a long time.
Santana tried her best to control her verbal vomit. After a few moments she finally found her words.
"It doesn't matter, Rachel."
Rachel sat up and looked into Santana's eyes.
"Yes it did. It must have. You haven't been hit since …" Rachel's voice trailed off.
Santana's eyes lowered at that. She still hated herself that Rachel knew that about her past. She didn't want to be that girl in her eyes. She finally looked up.
"It's hard to explain, Rachel."
"Please just try." Santana looked deeply at Rachel's face. She could still see the traces of bruising.
"It wasn't like that, Rachel," she finally said. "He wasn't …. He was so sad and distraught."
"About me," Rachel finished looking down at her hands.
"You didn't do this, monkey. That fucking bastard Karofsky did this." Santana brought Rachel's eyes to hers. "You know that Daddy and I have a hard time getting along, but I know deep down that he would never hurt me like …"
"Like your other dad did?" Rachel bravely and simultaneously innocently finished.
Santana bit her lip and gave weak smile. "Yeah…" She took a breath. She needed to redirect this conversation. "I can't talk about this… not with you. I'm sorry."
"You can't talk about it with anyone," Rachel muttered, wondering for a brief moment if her rage and disgruntlement were the same feeling that Santana felt when she told them that she wasn't going to press charges. Santana has accepted that; she should do right by her and not push her here.
"Why are you so mad about this, Rach? Is this really about me?"
"….. of course it is!...I feel betrayed for you. Don't you? Don't you feel upset?" Rachel's voice heightened slightly in hysteria.
"I'm upset about a lot of things I think . . . but the slap was never one of them." Rachel was somewhat taken aback by Santana's honesty.
"Oh," she responded quietly.
She leaned back down and turned to the tv. There was another moment of silence. "What kinds of things, Tig?"
Santana was glad that they weren't face to face anymore. "Just watch the movie, okay?"
…..
Quinn sat on the couch staring off into space. All of this was too much. At the beginning of the year, her goal was to make homecoming court and solidify her status as the next head cheerleader. Thanksgiving was only weeks away and she had already lost so much. The thing that she lost most that left her feeling the most empty was not knowing who she was. She understood that several identity cresses define adolescence. However, she felt more and more like an empty shell every day.
"You seem lost."
Quinn smirked. "Who isn't?"
"Is that a smile, stoneface?" Kurt asked amused. "What happened?"
"You never know any one, really. I mean really know someone I mean," Quinn said still lost in thought. She kept thinking about Santana. Everything about Santana's secret made sense to her. Her fierce demeanor, all of it. It was starting to make sense.
Kurt let her words sink in. Before he could respond, she spoke again.
"I think I'm gay."
"Well, that's not a surprise," Kurt scoffed without tact. Quinn practically snapped her neck when she went to shoot him a look. Kurt attempted to recover. "What I meant to say was, 'really, why do you say that?"
"Failure of a recovery, Pixie," Quinn snapped. She sighed. "Just what I need. A sexual identity crisis. My life wasn't complicated enough."
Kurt exhaled. "It doesn't really sound like a crisis, Quinn. You seem to know that you're wanting some lady kisses."
"Again, well said, Kurt." She looked away and thought more. "I like Rachel." Her eyes bulged. She said it out loud. Where had that come from? Why had she said it? And to Rachel's beard nonetheless….. Was he really her beard if Rachel was gay too? Was Rachel gay? Quinn's mind was going a million miles an hour. "Forget I said that."
"Can't," said Kurt slightly shocked. "It's been done." He was forming words. Quinn could see it. Kurt finally turned to her and looked at her with the it's-time-to-be-brutally-honest look. "She just needs to be loved back. She used to be hopeful, oblivious, but hopeful. I don't want you to confuse her. And this might confuse her."
"I don't really understand what you're saying, Kurt," Quinn said with a slight shake of her head.
"You've been through so much, Quinn. She's been through so so much." Kurt sighed. "Rachel always thinks she knows what she wants. She has a vision and an ideal. She doesn't really realize that it's a fantasy. You need to let her come into her own vision….. without you confessing your love to her."
"Kurt, I'm not going to –''
"Rachel needs to feel in control again, Quinn, and to do that she needs to make up her own mind about Jesse and about all that's happened." He took another sigh. "You're not the priority here. What I'm saying, is until that moment when she figures it out, butt out."
Quinn looked away confused and overwhelmed.
"I'm happy for you, Q," Kurt said, "but slowdown and let things catch up to you. You have a lot to sort through, too."
Kurt stood and exited the room leaving Quinn wondering if she should really sit and sort through things. Quinn also couldn't help by punch Pixie square in the nose, but she didn't because he words were ringing through.
…..
Quinn stood at Rachel's locker early before Spanish. She was the assigned buddy. She never got there early but she wanted to talk with Rachel. Finally, she spotted her being escorted by Brittany. She sighed, that must be awkward, she thought to herself.
"Hey Q," Brittany said casually. Maybe not that awkward, Quinn thought.
"Hey, B," Quinn smiled. "Hi, Rachel."
Quinn didn't notice Brittany's eyes flash with interest. Rachel was back to wearing her typical cardigan-skirt combo. She looked great. Quinn suddenly realized that Brittany was staring at her.
"See you at practice?"
Brittany just gave a knowing nod and left. Quinn started to wonder how many times Brittany and Santana had made bets about her sexuality. From Brittany's smile, it looked like she had had a great deal of practice of being right. Quinn let out a sigh and turned to Rachel who was practically hiding in her locker.
"What are you doing?" Quinn asked in a tone that was laced with her HBIC attitude. She inwardly scolded herself.
"Nothing," Rachel replied. "Just …. nothing. Long night…."
The two of them walked down the hallway to Spanish. Quinn was trying to find words. Rachel took out her phone and interrupted her thoughts.
"Is that sleaze-a-whore?" Quinn asked rolling her eyes.
"Don't call him that," Rachel barked.
The girls came into the classroom and took their seats. "For your information," Rachel said proudly, "It is Jesse." She gave a nod. "He's my boyfriend."
"I really don't see why you like putz-ella," Quinn snorted again.
"What's your problem?" Rachel asked as more students started to come into the classroom. "Are you jealous?"
"No!" Quinn said quickly. She shook her head and looked away.
Rachel looked at her and calmed down. "I need him right now, Quinn," she said quietly. "You have thing to figure out. I get that."
"No, you don't," Quinn snapped.
"Yeah, I do," Rachel whispered and their eyes met. Rachel was asleep, Santana's words echoed in her head. However, for the first time, Quinn spotted something that she hadn't seen before.
"Oh my god, " Quinn muttered. "She doesn't know that you know."
Rachel gave a tiny side grin that showed a small dimple. "She doesn't know that I know a lot of things." Rachel looked up at Quinn. "If you ever….I'm here for you if you need anything."
"Rachel…." Quinn said with a shake of your head. She felt a pang of sorrow in your chest. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm the one who should be saying that?"
Rachel looked away. "I don't want you to say that." She looked down at her hands. "I don't want anyone to say that." She let out a deep exhale. "I don't know what I want."
"Are you happy with him?" Quinn asked as she last of the students milled in.
"Sure I am." Rachel was trying to recover and return from a place within her. Quinn could see her struggling.
"Rach – "
"Listen, I know that you don't really like Jesse –''
"But you like him," Quinn said with the best smile she could muster. "And you need him. So as your friend, and we are friends, I will support you."
Rachel looked down at her book as Mr. Schuester started the class. There was a spark in her eye. She smiled. Friends.
…
Santana sat in math class drumming her pencil against her desk. She wanted to be anywhere by here. Anywhere. Everything was all surfacing. It was bad timing. Senior year. Rachel. Rachel's…. attack. Quinn's loss. Brittany. … Losing Brittany. … Losing Rachel. Hurting Puck. She wanted to scream. She needed to do something. She needed a release. She had lost Brittany. She didn't have Puck. Even torturing Jacob Ben Israel wasn't enough. SShe raised her hand to get dismissed to the bathroom. She grabbed her bag and headed toward the bathroom.
She entered the bathroom and checked underneath all of the stalls. No one was there. She breathed a sigh of relief. She stared at herself in the mirror. She was in her uniform but she felt so drained. She opened her backpack. There was a false pocket on the side. She pulled out the content, the most reliable thing that she knew. She stared at the sharp shiny object. She took a deep breath and moved it between her finger tips.
"What are you doing?"
Santana jumped back farther than she thought possible.
"Go away," Santana huffed not looking up.
"No way."
"I'm serious."
"You haven't done that in a long time…"
"How would you know?" Santana snapped.
"Because I know you," Brittany replied. "You just carry that around as a reminder, but you haven't actually used it in a long time. That's what Puck is for."
"You don't know anything, Brittany!" Santana practically screamed.
"I do, San," Brittany said approaching her. "I know that you stopped because you messed up five years ago and your nine year old sister walked in on you." Brittany got closer to her. Santana was still leaning on the sink. She could feel the heat radiating from Brittany's body. "Stop punishing yourself," Brittany whispered cradling the far side of Santana's head.
"You don't know anything, B." Santana could feel that her eyes were wet. "Sometimes bad things happen. You feel like shit and you can't fix them. So please. Stop trying. Go away."
"I don't hate you, S," she whispered her hand still cradling Santana from the side. "Sometimes I want to. But I don't hate you."
"Yeah," Santana scoffed in tears. "Because clearly my problem is you! I can't possibly have any other issues!"
She expected Brittany to let go but she didn't.
"I'm so sorry, baby," Brittany whispered. Santana could feel the blonde's lips on her ear. She swallowed back a sob.
"I'm not good for you, go away." Santana couldn't yell anymore. It was now a plead.
"No way."
"Britt, please just leave."
"Make me."
Santana let the tears fall at that point. They seemed to seep out of her like flowing lava, burning everyone around her as she felt a release within. Santana wiped her tears finally and stood up. She avoided Brittany's eyes.
"Thanks," she said packing up her stuff.
"Anytime."
Brittany lingered for a few minutes before she finally left to leave. She watched the Latina she loved leave her again. She felt like a sucker for punishment. But the optimist in her told her that she had just made progress, even though she didn't know exactly what it was. She left the bathroom not noticing the small saddle shoes peaking out from beneath one of the stalls trying their best to stay hidden from the two seniors.
Quinn grabbed Rachel's things for her. She had been gone for forever. Bathrooms shouldn't take that long. She hadn't texted Santana because she got a text from Rachel telling her she was fine, she just needed a few moments. Had she said something? Had she messed something up?
The hallway was packed like no other. She scanned the crowd. Rachel Rachel Rachel Rachel. She spotted Karofsky at the end of the hallway. He was looking at something. Quinn followed his gaze as she shifted Rachel's bag to her shoulder. There she was. Rachel was just outside of the bathroom. She had just come out it looked like. Her arms were folded. She was lost in thought. She glanced back at Karofsky and stopped. There was an unquestionably menacing look on his face. He was zoning in on her. She watched as he looked at the closet next to Rachel and started to march toward her.
Rachel wasn't surprised about all that she had heard. She had spent her entire childhood hiding at the top of the stairs or with her ear pressed against the radiator in the kitchen or the doors. She had overheard a lot. She had remembered that day vividly. Her heart ached for her sister. She wanted so badly to come out of the stall and say something, but she knew that Santana wouldn't have been able to deal with that. She couldn't break down and know that Rachel witnessed it.
Rachel suddenly felt herself being pushed back. A panic rose in her chest. Not again. Please. Another force pulled her in another direction. She looked up. Quinn? Quinn pulled her into the choir room.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Rachel said confused. "You practically pulled my arm off."
"Rachel, Karofsky was zoning in on you," Quinn said in disbelief. "Are you kidding me right now? That must of have been horrifying."
Rachel didn't look up at her. Her head was down. It was almost as if she was used to it… She expected it. Quinn finally had a better understanding of what was going on. It was almost as if she was lifting a veil from her eyes.
"Rachel," her voice warned and caught her attention. "You need to tell Santana."
"And what is she going to do about it?" Rachel asked with a snap. Rachel looked at her apologetically. "I'm scared all of the time." The last of Rachel's words were so solid as she formed them that they stood stagnant from the others. She looked back up and into Quinn's face. "Santana can't fix that."
Quinn wasn't sure what to say. She simply could only watch the small brunette as she played aimlessly with the plede in her skirt. She stared at a stray piece of hair that had come loose and into Rachel's face. She leaned forward slightly and moved it behind Rachel's ear and was surprised that Rachel leaned into Quinn's open palm. Quinn tilted her head slightly and let her palm cup Rachel's cheek. She wasn't sure what she was feeling but it was natural. It fit.
Rachel felt the warmth of Quinn's hand against her cheek. And for the first time in what seems like forever, she could breathe. She closed her eyes and let herself fall into it. She kneaded her bottom lip with her teeth. Quinn's words interrupted her thoughts as she felt the blonde comb a few more strands of hair back. She could feel Quinn's face inches from hers. "I'm not going to stand by and let anyone hurt you, Rach. I don't know how to protect you on my own." To Quinn's surprise, Rachel didn't pull away. She stayed right where she was, in Quinn's hands.
….
Santana pulled up to the house. The ride home had been kind of awkward. Quinn dropped Rachel off. There was something weird going on there. She followed Rachel into the house and collapsed onto the couch. She heard Rachel press the answering machine.
"Hi my beautiful girls," Hiram's voice echoed through the house. "Your father and I can't make it for dinner tonight like we promised. There was an 8 car pile up on during rush hour. I have 6 surgeries lined up and your father is dealing with the school bus full of children in peds wing. San, baby, you know what to do. Rachel, my darling girl, behave. I love you both."
"Pizza?" Rachel asked hopefully.
"Ewww no way."
"Why?"
"I'm not eating your vegan crap."
"Sushi?"
"Perfect."
The two of them sat in the family room watching Say Yes to the Dress aimlessly as they ate. It was quiet. Rachel was poking at her sushi that she didn't finish. Santana kept glancing over at her. Unsure of what was happening.
"Did you talk with Q?"
Rachel didn't look up when she asked that.
"Yeah I did," Santana said taken aback.
"Did you tell her about …. " Santana watched Rachel hesitate "When you lost your baby?"
Santana didn't say anything for a moment. Her mouth that was formed into a shocked "o." She finally found her voice.
"You knew?"
"Of course I did." Rachel casual voice wasn't helping.
"How?"
"You had B pick me up from school that day. Remember?" Rachel went on watching Santana's face. "When I got home, you were in bed. It was afternoon and your room was so dark." Santana was remembering that day clearly. "You didn't get up all day. I told Daddy that you had the flu."
"How did you know I didn't get an abortion?" Santana was surprised at her snap.
"Because I know you." Santana bit her lip and held in the pang in her chest. "You would never do that. You're all about choice, San, but you won't ever willfully abandon someone even though you think you might want to."
Santana wrapped her arm around Rachel. Rachel flinched a bit. She gave a small chuckle. "You stayed with me all weekend that weekend….. wasn't I mad at you about something?"
"Yeah…. I lit your hairdryer on fire." Rachel looked away.
Santana laughed. She calmed and looked down at Rachel "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Because you're San…. You don't talk about it…. And I was twelve." Both girls smile slightly at the last comment.
"Why are you saying something now?"
"Because I talked with Quinn today."
Santana's eyebrow shot up. "About what?"
Rachel didn't look her in the eye. "Things."
Rachel snuggled into Santana's body.
"You never should have found out, Rach….That was my thing to deal with, not yours." Santana let the smile fade as she pulled Rachel closer and gave her a small kiss on the top of her head.
Rachel looked up at her and without hesitation she said, "San, you're my sister. It was my thing."
Rachel suddenly stood up and went ot the kitchen. She came back and set what she retrieved down on the coffee table.
"What's this?"
"Don't act dumb. You're sad. And I know what you do when you're sad." Rachel gave a small grin.
"Rachel, you're a baby." Santa was serious and she couldn't avoid Rachel's offended look which then turned into a fallen look. Santana regretted her words.
"Not anymore…." She recovered. "Just humor me?" Rachel saw that Santana looked hesitant. "Come on. It'll be like how it was when we were kids."
"You're still a kid." Santana shook her head. "How is drinking these bottles of Vino… vodka… and rum going to be like when we were kids. By the way, this is a horrible combination."
"We can sing and dance like we did when we were little."
Santana laughed. "That was mostly you…. Wait, still is." Or at least it was, Santana thought to herself.
"Loosen up with me. Please?" Rachel offered her the bottle of rum. "I've never been drunk before and you're the only person that I would want to be drunk with for the first time."
Santana hesitated but took the bottle. "Cheers."
Six hours later. The bottles were empty. They had performed two ballads, four pop hits, and a tap number. They were back in the living room on the floor. It was now early morning.
"San?" Rachel slurred.
"Yesh?"
"That was funnnns."
Santana smiled goofily. She hadn't seen Rachel dance so freely in a long time. She couldn't even remember a moment when Rachel looked like she was actually having fun.
"Yesshh is wasess."
A silence fell on them as Santana stared at her ceiling and wondering if that fan had always been there.
"Are you okay?" Rachel's words were still slurred but slightly sobered. She was coming down for the high.
"Not really."
"Are you?"
"No."
"Thanks for doing this with me, San." Rachel paused trying her best to collect her spinning words. "This is the first time that you ever had fun with me. And you didn't treat me like I was broken."
Drunkenly Santana laughed. "You are broken, Rach."
"So are you," Rachel responded slurred. Suddenly, she sat up. "The room is spinning but I'm not moving. I don't…. feel so …." Rachel bolted for the half bath under the stairs.
"That's puking, monkey. It's normal. Keep going," Santana stumbled as she stood up and walked toward the bathroom. She fell to Rachel's side and pulled back her hair as Rachel heaved into the toilet.
The heaving calmed.
"Will I ever have good sex, San?"
Santana felt the room spin differently. The immensity of this question is something she couldn't grasp. "I mean you like it. You do it with Puck."
"Where is this conversation going?" Santana yelled at herself and apparently at Rachel.
"Shhhh," Rachel said as she leaned against the porcelain throne. "What if he's ruined me forever? What if Jesse never wants me like that?" Before Santana could answer, Rachel heaved again into the toilet. "This tastes awful….. you're right this was a horrible combination." She looked over disgusted. "Why aren't you throwing up?"
"Because I'm a tank," Santana said clearly.
"Like a marine vessel or an army gun thing?" Rachel heaved again into the toilet.
Something clicked in Santana's brain. "Wait, are you having sex with sleaze-a-whore?"
"Why do you and Quinn call him that?"
"Because he is." Santana leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes to stop the spinning. It didn't work. "Are you having sex?"
"No, but I think he wants to - " Rachel heaved into the toilet. "I'm never drinking again" She curled up on the floor. "I'm scared that he's broken me, S." Santana curled up next to her.
"He hasn't."
"You just said he has."
"Oh," Santana mumbled. "I forgot."
"I always thought there would be fireworks when you kissed someone who cared about you and who you cared about back," Rachel ranted.
Santana smiled. "Maybe he's not the one."
"He has to be," Rachel felt her drunken blurry eyes get wet. "No one else will want me."
"That's not true."
Rachel started to heave the contents of her stomach out again. "Let's just sleep okay?"
When Santana opened her eyes, all she saw was the bathroom floor. Shit, she thought. Bad bad bad idea. She turned her head slowly because it weighed a ton. Rachel was still lyin on her side sound asleep against the toilet. At least they had some sister bonding, right? Suddenly the loudest sound echoed in her ears.
"Oh mmyyyy gggawwwwwwd!" Rachel moaned. "Is that the doorbell?"
"Go away!" Santana screamed.
There was a knock. "Make it stop!" Rachel screamed into the tile. "It's soooo loud!"
Santana rolled herself up and stumbled to the door. She opened the door. Christ Almighty the sun was bright.
"What are you doing here?" Santana mumbled as she leaned against the door. "Quinn, it's like 8am."
"Actually, it's 1pm," she sighed. "We need to talk."
A little tribute to Tuesday's ep….. Please review and enjoy.