(Past)

I hadn't really put two and two together by the time I next saw great aunt Lilith while dad sat Shivah for my bubbeh.

It'd been almost fourteen months since I first started getting my were-penis (a fantastic and somewhat fitting term I found coined online, even though my penis didn't need a full moon to appear, only a change in hormones). I'd been shocked and elated to find other people like me, until I realised that I had been looking at a LiveJournal group that dealt in fiction. Still, I didn't really mind being unique, and it gave me a mysterious edge, which I was determined to make work for me when I started to audition for roles on Broadway. I hadn't fully decided back then on how I would make my were-penis work for me, but I was more than confident in my abilities to do just that. I did always like to look on the positive side of things.

I'd been sitting for quite a while, frowning at my hands as people walked around the room talking to my fathers and my uncle Silas. I was disappointed that only my dad and his brother were allowed to read prayers and recite the Kaddish during this time. Never being one to miss the opportunity to perform, and what with seventy per cent of my Jewish relatives being over the age of forty-five, I felt for sure that I would be needed eventually. I'd prepared a moving rendition of the mourners' prayer a cappella by the age of nine, but was told outright that I would not be able to showcase my talent during that particular venue. My hands held my interest because otherwise I'd be glaring at my dad, and daddy had already given me a stern warning concerning my selfishness and him not letting me join a class at the new ballet centre if I didn't show a little more respect during dad's time of grief. I only just managed to press my lips tightly together so that I didn't speak ill of the dead, just as almost everyone else in that room had spoken of bubbeh whilst she was still alive. They were all hypocrites, but voicing that then would not have gone down well. No one liked bubbeh, so why pretend. I think that was why I was surprised when great aunt Lilith came in through the front door, gave me a quick wink and walked over to my dad. I had watched carefully as her lips moved to the words alav hasholom (May she rest in peace), just like every other mourner that entered bubbeh's home, before she turned to give uncle Silas a pat on the arm.

Aunt Lilith had to be one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, and I wasn't the only one who thought so. Her looks were exotic, dark eyes and long shiny black hair, and her clothes were designer but not in your face with their labels, especially today. She wore a pretty black dress that reached her knees and a lace shawl draped over her shoulders. She looked stunning, but more conservative than usual. Still, she drew the eyes of those around her.

I heard several utterances of the word 'koorveh', which I'd only just learnt meant 'trollop'. Some of my bubbeh's friends could be very mean.

"It's about time that woman showed a little respect and a lot less cleavage." I couldn't help but giggle at the neighbours comment.

My aunt liked attention; I certainly wasn't going to fault her for that. I could see her smirking at me as she crossed the room and I had the feeling that she had also heard the whisperings about her. My great aunt Lilith never cared what people thought or said about her. She had told me once that life was too short to take the mean words of others to heart. Jealousy and pettiness was for those who were meant to live their lives as nothing more than what they were, those meant for greatness rose above it all. It was hard sometimes, but I really tried to live by those words.

"Why so sad, bubbeleh?" Lilith had smiled gently at me before she pulled me to my feet and dragged me across the room to the far corner where we could sit together and talk without anyone over hearing.

I remember looking at her for a long moment, not understanding why she had asked me such a question. "Bubbeh died, Aunt Lilith."

"So you miss your bubbeh?" She tilted her head as she spoke.

I never lied to Lilith, so I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. "Not really." I looked down at my lap. "Daddy shouted at me because I wasn't happy that I couldn't sing."

Aunt Lilith chuckled softly. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her body, giving me a tight hug. "I always miss you the most, Rachel."

I couldn't help but smile widely at that. "I missed you too." I breathed into her shoulder, suddenly fighting against a tightness in my chest and tears in my eyes.

"What's wrong, bubbeleh?" She ran her fingers soothingly through my hair as she heard me sniffle.

I shook my head to say that nothing was wrong, but I started to cry.

It took a few minutes for her to calm me down enough to talk about the one thing missing from all of the emails I sent her, the one thing I hadn't told anyone else about since the confusion surrounding its first appearance.

I told my great aunt Lilith about my reoccurring penis and she didn't look at me like I'd lost my marbles, in fact, she looked somewhat nonchalant.

"Is it really so bad?"

I huffed at her then and swiped at my halting tears. I had taken a quick look around but no one had noticed me crying. Others were weeping and wailing anyway, so why would they have taken special notice of me? I leant forward until my face was close to my aunt's. "For five days in every month, I have a penis, Aunt Lilith." I hissed. "And it's not just a faux lookey-likey penis either. It's an honest to god real penis that comes to life at the barest signs of a stiff breeze." I frowned at her chuckle. "It's a real inconvenience, Aunty. I'm already ridiculed, teased and bullied for my extroversion, my apparently bad fashion sense, having two fathers, and my Barbra-esque nose, and I'm only a freshman. If anyone ever found out about my were-penis, well, I'd just die."

My aunt Lilith raised a dark brow at me. "Don't be so dramatic, bubbeleh." She shook her head and I knew that she was trying to hide her mirth. "Anyway, last time I saw you, you told me that you wanted to be a boy." She was smirking again and her eyes were sparkling mischievously.

"I didn't mean for real." I sighed. "I just wanted my dads to take more notice of me. Now I won't be able to have children because I don't have my period, and," I let my exasperation show in the way I gesticulated widely. "I'll probably grow excessive facial hair. How am I to concentrate on my career when I'd have to be extra vigilant of the paps finding out that I have a penis, and that I have to shave my face?"

Lilith snorted loudly at this, only just managing to cover it with a forced sneeze. It wouldn't do if she had been caught laughing at my grandmothers Shivah. She was already frowned upon. "Chances are, Rachel that you'd grow up kvetching about excessive facial hair anyway. Did you not see your bubbeh's chin recently?"

I scowled at her and crossed my arms over my chest.

My aunt Lilith forcibly uncrossed my arms and took both of my hands in hers. Her expression was suddenly serious as her dark eyes looked into mine. "You are a healthy girl, Rachel Berry. If some 'higher power' decided that you should have your girl-penis, then so be it. There's a reason for everything Rachel, just because you don't understand what that reason is right now, trust that there is a reason because your aunt Lilith has told you so."

My pout came out in full force at her words. I didn't want to be different no matter how much I'd protested back then that it didn't matter to me. I was thirteen years old and I wanted to be like every other teenaged girl.

She came a little closer to me then, her sharp eyes daring me to look away, but I couldn't. "You will be successful and long living, you will have love and a beautiful family, my little one, never doubt my words again." She breathed her words at me so that no one else could hear. "You will rise above your hardships and you will have your dreams."

"How can you be so sure?" I whispered back.

She tilted her head again as though she were contemplating not just my words, but me as a whole. "Because I am Lilith, Rachel, and you have always been my favourite."

My great aunt Lilith could be a strange duck, but I believed her implicitly. She knew me, and she knew my future, and that made me question for the first time, who she was exactly.

The following day, I began researching my family tree. It didn't take me long to find that even though everyone on my dad's side of the family called Lilith 'Aunt', and I only then realised that that included my bubbeh, I couldn't actually find anyone that she was related to by blood or marriage.

(Present)

Quinn has barely looked in my direction this past week, but that in itself wasn't all that unusual, and I have almost managed to talk myself into believing that her seeing me in such a compromising position was an orgasm induced hallucination. That happens, right?

Voyeurism tends to play a part in most my fantasies (I like an audience, sue me), so just the thought of Quinn, or Finn, or Noah, or even Santana, walking through the door, catching me as I masturbate is enough to make me wet, or hard, depending on the time of the month. Thing is, during my fantasies she joins in and doesn't run away, and when I have caught her looking at me this week, she's nearly always wearing a frown and her eyes are almost always focused on my crotch. Nope, I cannot gloss over the fact that Quinn Fabray saw me with cock in hand. Shit. Still, she hasn't spread it around the school. Yet.

I can see her walking towards me as I open my locker to pull out the books I'll need for tonight's homework. I take a quick glance around the door to see if Santana and Brittany are waiting just down from my locker, but the hall is virtually empty, so I conclude that Quinn must be meeting her friends in the car park and that I am just someone she needs to pass by to get there. It's been a week, why would she approach me now?

"So, you really are a tranny?" The words are hissed so close to my ear that I startle and end up dropping a book to the floor.

I bend down, taking a few seconds to think over what I want to say. I scoop up my book. "I don't know what you mean, Quinn." I shake my head at her as though I'm disappointed in her backwards slide at the use of the nickname.

Quinn and I weren't friends but we had become more cordial for the sake of Glee. Not long after Nationals, I had overheard a conversation she shared with Santana. I knew that Santana was still angry at me for my part in us losing the competition, so I had lifted my feet, hiding just in case she or Quinn looked underneath the stall doors to see if they had privacy or not. Santana had mentioned Quinn's plan to sabotage Glee club because of her jealousy pertaining to mine and Finn's on again romance, and I had been quite shocked to say the least. I took careful consideration that night and realised that, for the good of Glee I needed to break up with Finn, and so I did. It only took a week and an easy Cheerio for Finn to get over his hurt and anger, and ever since, Glee has virtually become a stress free zone. Hence, the lack of nasty nicknames.

Quinn's lips curl and her nostrils flare. I swallow hard.

"I saw it, Rachel." Her pretty eyes narrow at me and I suspect that if I had my monthly visitor, he would already be halfway standing at attention. "You … you have a penis."

My eyes widen in disbelief (I am such a good actress) and I start to laugh. "Despite your preference for slurs relating to my gender, Quinn, I am in fact all woman." I give her a sultry wink for effect.

I can see the flush of colour to her cheeks and wonder if she's angry, frustrated or just embarrassed. Surely she couldn't have expected me to just outright admit that I have a penis. I don't. Not at the moment, anyway.

Her hands go to her hips as she stares at me. "Prove it."

I can't seriously believe that she just said that, so I ask for clarification. "Excuse me?"

She seems to grow impossibly taller now; her chin lifts as though her determination to know the truth has steeled her bones. "I said prove it."

Quinn has never really intimidated me before that moment, and I find myself more than a little nervous at her request. I look around us. Even though there are only a few stragglers left roaming the halls of McKinley, there are still too many people around for me to even consider what Quinn is asking of me. "I …"

She shakes her head and roughly grabs my arm. "Not here, Berry." I don't know if she saw the trepidation on my face or actually thought that I would lift my skirt for her here in the halls, but she drags me along the hall and pushes me into the janitor's closet.

I blink rapidly as she pulls the chord that turns on the bare light bulb before she slams the door shut behind her. Her hands are back on her hips and she's glaring at me. "Get on with it, Rachel."

"Quinn?" I swallow at the lump in my throat. "I don't think …"

"I saw your penis," A blush colours her cheeks but her gaze is still fierce. "While you were doing … that." I find it cute that she can't say masturbating. "I saw it."

"I don't have a penis, Quinn." I try again, hoping to get out of the closet and home before I resort to finding yet another empty bathroom in which to relieve the ache that feisty Quinn has caused. I really did learn my lesson last time. I always remember to lock the door now.

"Like I said," Quinn breathes harshly, or maybe it just sounds harsh because of our proximity and the tight confines of the janitor's closet. It's a tad warm in here. "Prove to me that you don't have one."

I take a deep breath, quickly scrolling through a list of excuses in my head only to find that none of them fit with this situation. I suppose that I could always barge past her, or yell for help, but I realise that there is only one way to quench any possible future rumours of me having a penis.

I reach under my skirt and tug down my sticky panties until they reach my knees before flicking up the pleated hem of my skirt, holding it up. I send up a silent prayer to anyone listening that Quinn doesn't notice just how aroused I am.

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "I can't see, Rachel." She's scowling now. "Move back, you're too close."

I try to take a step but my ass hits shelving. "I can't." My heart rate picks up tremendously when a particular thought enters my head. My mouth opens before I can think clearly enough to stop my words. "Get down on your knees and you'll see for yourself."

I don't think that I'm the only one not thinking rationally right now because Quinn immediately drops to her knees. She probably only wants verification that she is right and I'm just a big fat liar, but I'm incredibly turned on by her willingness to just get on her knees before me. If only the circumstances were different. If only she actually likes me in that way.

I hear Quinn gasp and I look down to see that she's staring at my definitely-not-a-penis. She's staring at me, knowing full well that I don't have a cock (not at the moment), but she's not moving and I can't move, and we're both in the closet just staring.

"Where did it go?" She blinks eventually and I swear to all that is holy that she reaches out to touch me but I bat her hand away and drop my skirt. "I know what I saw, Rachel." She scowls up at me.

I chew at my lip. Looks like showing her my vagina didn't prove a damn thing after all.

….

tbc