Author's Notes: A huge thank-you to everyone who took the time to comment, or put this on alert and favourite lists. I was very nervous about posting this, but you've all convinced me to keep posting my musical plan for world dominatio- er... 'story'. This is also something I'm going to put right up front to avoid confusion- this story is entirely from Rachel's perspective and Rachel is an unreliable narrator. Her view of people, situations and the world may not be right, but there will always be enough clues in the background to figure out what's going on if you want to know. Now that I've thoroughly frightened you- on with the show!

Warnings: Rated M for language, violence and suggestive sexy fun-times.

Disclaimer: Glee, Damn Yankees ('Little Brains, A Little Talent', 'Two Lost Souls' 'Whatever Lola Wants'), the Cure, Pinky and the Brain (yes that is a reference in there), and Jewish proverbs do not belong to me, alas.

Quick Definition: "Twirlies" is theatre slang for dancers or chorus members.

Chapter Summary: Rachel tries to figure out when her life started to resemble one of the less insightful episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Chapter 2: A Bought Friend

A friend you have to buy; enemies you get for nothing.

- Jewish Proverb

Not-Thursday

It's one a.m. when Rachel rolls over to see the looming demonic figure, glowing eyes backlit by the full moon.

"Mmmrphrgl?"

"I call left side!"

"...Whaaa?"

"We're going to be bed buddies!"

Slowly emerging from the deep haze in her mind, Rachel tries to figure out when her life started to resemble one of the less insightful episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

xXx

After Rachel had made her wishes, Jesse had disappeared –literally- mumbling something about having business to finish up. Rachel is glad that she had read so thoroughly on her background, because otherwise she wouldn't have known that having demon requests granted would hurt. And not just her self-respect. She had sat on her bed, wrapped in blankets, rocking back and forth as waves of pain washed over her. She had almost been willing to use her third wish just to...

She had wanted so badly to have someone to hold her.

Eventually, she had closed her eyes and used that fertile imagination to imagine someone hugging her, telling her that it was going to be all right.

It wasn't.

But strangely, amidst the pain, Rachel reached a level of peace that she would have previously thought impossible. Rachel had never met a role she didn't commit to with everything she was. For better or for worse, this was what she had chosen and she was hardly going to give up now that she had changed up the choice of ballads. She was strong. She was going to survive and better than that, she was going to win. Unfortunately, just as she had cheered herself up, a particularly painful burst of pain had nearly knocked her out and she had crawled under the covers where she had promptly passed out.

Waking up to a naked demon-Jesse trying to crawl into bed is not doing much for her new-found resolution.

"Y'r naky- naked!"

She realizes that in the distress she was in earlier it hadn't really occurred to her that she had been spending her time with her naked ex-boyfriend.

Oh Barbra.

He sat on her desk.

He sat on her desk naked.

Rachel develops a sudden, passionate sympathy for Miss Pillsbury.

Then, Rachel suddenly has more important concerns, because he's jiggling. Over top of her. He's very jiggly. Dear Judy, how would that have even fit? Why is he so jiggly?

Jesse seems to notice that she is doing a marvelous impression of a bicycle pump, because he mercifully freezes and stops jiggling.

"Would singing 'Let's Go to Bed' make the sleeping situation less intimidating?"

"Maybe explaining why the Jackson you are crawling into my bed might help!"

"Have you had a friend before?"

"... No."

"Well, this is what friends do!"

Rachel would be more convinced if he weren't sprouting little horns as he spoke.

Wait...

Little horns?

"You have horns!"

Jesse turns pale and winces. Rachel can barely hear his low mutter, "If I don't do something soon..."

Suddenly Jesse drops the mocking, teasing confidence and the light catches him just so that she sees the deep shadows underneath his eyes.

"Honestly Rach, I've had to change form one and a half times today. It's always exhausting and it hurts like... but I also had to get those wishes underway and really I should be unconscious by now. I can't go back to where I was before and I really... I just need to sleep."

"Please."

Wordlessly, Rachel lifts the corner of her covers and shuffles over as Jesse collapses onto the bed. It only occurs to her to wonder as she is on the verge of sleep why, with an entirely empty house, Jesse has to rest in her bed, before that thought and everything else is lost to oblivion.

xXx

When Rachel wakes up she prepares to face the world, her protein shake and her elliptical, not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately that would mean figuring out why she can't get off her bed.

There's something heavy wrapped around her waist, which she bats against ineffectually before realizing it only gets tighter each time she pokes at it. Giving up for the moment, she sleepily stretches, brushing against a solid lump behind her. Solid lump? Oh... right... Jesse. And there was something about horns too, but weren't they smaller and on his head? And was there only one of them?

She mumbles, still half-asleep, "Did your horn grow?"

The rough voice, full of amusement, is right in her ear. "You could say that."

Later, Rachel will be very impressed with herself.

She's never hit a high E before without extensive warm-up.

At the moment though, her amazing vocal range isn't exactly her first concern.

"You... You're still naked! And in my bed! And naked! And horn-y! And naked! And evil!"

"And naked?"

When she turns to him with a glare of Ultimate Death, he mumbles, "I thought maybe we were starting a call-response."

"Fix. It. Now."

Jesse won't meet her eyes. Rachel remembers the last time he did that and gets a disturbing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Er... Well about that... 'M-not-allowed-to-wear-clothes-in-this-form."

Once Rachel has translated Oddly Embarrassed Jesse to English she blinks. Twice. "Why aren't you allowed to wear clothes?"

Jesse is now staring firmly at something Very Fascinating on her bedcover. "It feels like my skin is peeling if I try... I can't, Rach."

"Why?"

She can hardly hear him when he replies. "'Cause of what I'm supposed to use this form for."

"Oh."

Rachel finally gets it.

"You were supposed to seduce me."

Jesse's grin is pale, but definitely self-mocking in a way she never suspected that he could be. "Yeah. Well. We can both see how well that worked. Obviously that's not going to happen now though."

Oh.

Of course not. Why would he find her attractive?

This of course brings up all of the horrible things that happened yesterday (Rachel thinks it's sad that the worst hurt was that even Puck couldn't find her sexually attractive enough to motivate him to date her). Then there was the disaster that was Glee... She supposes that after her exit, Tina will be getting the Regionals' solo, not that Rachel cares.

Not that Rachel cares.

She doesn't care.

With a shriek of delight, Rachel bounces right off the bed, landing gracefully in full dancer stance. She grabs Jesse about the waist, barely noticing his look of stunned surprise as she pulls back.

"I don't care! I don't care!"

She's laughing and jumping and grabs Jesse's hands to spin him around. "Ask me! Ask me anything!"

Realizing, by the expression on Jesse's face that he might, in fact, have no idea what she is talking about, Rachel attempts to clarify.

"If Mercedes says I shouldn't sing 'My Prerogative' because there's enough crazy in Britney already? I don't care!"

Jesse gets a slow, wide smile and his eyes are actually twinkling.

"Artie says you're annoying and 'accidentally' runs over your feet during choreography!"

"I don't care!"

"Tina gets to sing all your solos!"

"I don't care!"

"Mr. Schue makes another passive aggressive life-lesson at your expense!"

"I don't care!"

"Mike makes yet another reference to how you need to include more pop and lock!"

"I don't care!"

"Matt says nothing!"

"I don't care!"

"Brittany reveals the color and cut of your underwear to the entire cafeteria when Santana makes a joke about what is under your skirt!"

"I don't care!"

"Quinn's drawing you having a threesome with a microphone and a piano!"

"Is that even possi- I don't care!"

"Finn is having Santana's babies!"

"I don't care! And... that sounds like it would hurt. But... I don't care!"

"Kurt has a complete set of Wicked memorabilia signed by Idina Menzel!"

"I don't- Well, actually I do care. But that's because I want it! Not because I want to beat Kurt about the head with-"

Rachel blinks. "Does it mean that this didn't work if I still think that Kurt is a vicious hypocrite who I want to squash like a bug?"

"Not at all," Jesse says cheerfully. "I'm fairly sure that there isn't a wish in the universe powerful enough to change that."

Rachel can't help but agree, but something occurs to her. "You didn't... You never mentioned Noa-Puck."

Jesse's smile is a little strange when he replies. "Do you care?"

"I... don't."

And Rachel wonders why something inside feels so hollow when she says it.

The thing is, it's not like Lima, Ohio is the next Jerusalem. There's a small Jewish community and they all pretty much live in one another's pockets, which means Rachel's known Noah Puckerman for longer than nearly anyone else she knows. And most of that time he's made her life a living hell. But in that whole time she's known him she's always felt something towards him whether that be loathing, extra-loathing, (very briefly) lust or recently, guilt and concern. She's never not felt anything for him, something she can't say about the other people in Glee. Feeling nothing is strange and there's a niggling feeling at the back of Rachel's head that maybe she doesn't need to wait for the third wish for the price to kick in.

Plastering on a "Rachel Berry Extra-Teeth Special", she turns to Jesse.

"So what are we doing today, Fake Friend Number One?"

Jesse slings an arm over her shoulders as she tries to elbow him in the side. "The same thing we do every day- take over the world, one high C at a time."

xXx

Rachel gets through her morning routine in record time- who knew that having a naked demon who can apparently phase through walls would lead to such an increase in efficiency?

When Rachel makes breakfast and Jesse asks for a plate, she's a little startled, but shrugs it off, since Jesse is hardly a textbook demon by any stretch of the imagination. Since he's given every indication that he's coming with her, she's starting to get a little uneasy that he's not doing anything about his er... new situation.

"I know that changing forms hurts, but aren't you going to do something before we go to McKinley?"

"Nope," says Jesse in between bites of omelet. "This is really good, by the way."

Rachel counts down from ten in her head. She makes it to five. "You mean that I am going to be going to school with a naked demon who looks like my ex-boyfriend?"

Jesse looks up from his meal. "Well yes, but in this form I'm invisible to everyone but you, so it's not like it matters."

Rachel is not violent. She's not.

"And do you have any idea what problems me talking to an 'invisible friend' is going to cause? We're going to have to come up with some strategies now."

Jesse looks more than a little confused and it's really, really not his fault that replacing McKinley with a sewage treatment facility would be an improvement in building contents. So Rachel takes a deep breath and tries to explain.

"The thing is, while discrimination against mental illness is cruel and reprehensible, with the impression everyone already has of me... I can't take the chance of doing something that they might actually take action on."

Jesse tilts his head. "You've lost me, Goddess of Music."

Rachel closes her eyes. "'Crazy' isn't just a charming nickname. If I'm reported for acting strange, chances are good that they will actually think I am insane. It's hard to make a Broadway debut from a padded cell that is not the set of 'Chicago'."

Jesse actually looks thoughtful. Or maybe gassy. She's not entirely sure.

"You know, while normally I use my extraordinary empathy to understand the peasant mind, I have to say I never understood that. I mean you're dramatic, driven, intense and selfish, but hell, so is New York! It's not like any of that is particularly unusual. I certainly don't see how they think it makes you crazy. And New Directions... It's like none of them have ever even heard of the competition circuit. I mean on the circuit, you'd practically be Bambi shortly after his tragic loss."

He suddenly looks very proud of himself. "I've been wanting to use that metaphor in conversation. I'm good."

Rachel tries really hard not to snort. It's just he's so... She chokes back her giggles, because he's starting to look a little offended. And honestly? He's a way better fake friend than he was a fake boyfriend, and he was a really good fake boyfriend. The thing is, of course, is that he's right. She'd walked into New Directions expecting it to work like the competition circuit and been blind-sided by the fact that everyone else seemed to be working from a set of rules that she'd never even seen. The singing part of competition is supposed to be the only part that is personal and somehow Glee is generally the exact opposite. Although she thinks wryly, maybe Mr. Schue is plumbing unknown emotional depths with "Bust a Move".

"As um... metaphorically brilliant as that argument was, my vocabulary and intensity have already placed me in a precarious position. I don't think that they will see me talking to air as just another manifestation of my ambition."

"Well that's what happens when you have an entire school of flat-footed twirlies who are more obsessed with tearing you down than starring in their own lives."

Rachel finds that both funny and a little sad. Mainly because there's more than a little bit of truth to the Jesse-sult. She's also starting to learn enough social cues to realize when a conversation is being dodged. Her voice is maybe softer than she planned when she leans towards Jesse across the table.

"Is there a reason you can't take a human form?"

Jesse looks up and the bitterness in his eyes nearly makes Rachel flinch. "Well darling, Shel-... Let's just say that my pretty face went bye-bye and I'm not getting it back."

Rachel, maybe not surprisingly, knows something about lost dreams and burnt bridges. She doesn't allow herself to change expression- Jesse is very obviously not looking for her sympathy. Her voice is perfectly level when she speaks, "All the more reason for us to work out an alternate form of communication."

There might be a brief flash of gratitude before Jesse tilts his head to the side.

"I can make text appear on a page. In blood."

"Works for me."

xXx

They finish the clean-up and make it nearly to the door (Rachel slowly coming to the realization that something is going to have to be done about Jesse-as-student), when Jesse surprises her yet again.

"So what's the musical for today?"

Rachel's jaw drops. "How did you know?"

Jesse, strangely, looks like he's uncomfortable. "It's that you hum! A lot! With an obvious consistent theme! It's not that someone as talented and adored as myself would ever understand the need to-"

He straightens and flashes a wicked smirk. "Might I suggest 'Damn Yankees'?"

Rachel looks at him slyly from underneath her lashes, "You know, you lied that day on the stage."

She waits for a beat while he gives her his "Um, yes?" expression.

"You're way more of a drama queen than I am."

He actually shrieks. "Take it back! Take it back!"

Rachel giggles and dodges his flailing arms as she carefully steers them out the door.

It's so much easier dealing with Jesse when she doesn't care about whether or not she's impressing him.

Wait.

Jesse was still, technically, a McKinley student when she made her wish.

As they head towards her car, she wonders if he realizes that he's just as much a part of the wish as the rest of the "flat-footed twirlies".

This has, she thinks, the potential to become very interesting.

xXx

The ground rules are laid out in the McKinley parking lot- color-coded with neatly labeled addendums. The rules boil down to two basic things. Jesse can sense people, so if he initiates conversation Rachel will know that it is safe to speak, otherwise Rachel will write in her new, specially designated Jesse-book and Jesse will respond. Other rules deal with Jesse's shameless exhibitionism and expectation of the same from Rachel. Jesse will not place his genitalia in Rachel's belongings, objects that come into contact with any part of Rachel or people who regularly come into contact with Rachel. Also, pursuant to her morning's discoveries, toilet-time is private time and not a sign that she wishes to have a conversation about how heavy her menses are.

She wonders a little as she goes into the school if the wish wasn't as effective as she thought because she cares so much about not being reported for insanity. Then of course it becomes obvious. Because, while she doesn't care about the people at school, she very much does care about being forced to deal with adults who aren't as self-centered and blind as the ones at McKinley. It's not that she thinks that they'll discover that she's made a deal with the devil, it's that she can't see it ending in any way that will make her path to Broadway smoother.

To this end, in addition to not speaking to thin air, Rachel is going to have to gradually phase in most of her... plans. Even though she wants to do everything Right. Now... Well, she realizes that any dramatic changes in the way she reacts will probably make people curious in a not very good way. Although probably only if it affects them, so maybe she'll be fine?

It's not a chance she can afford to take.

So, unfortunately, she can only try a single plan today. Fortunately, it's also one of her favorites, although it might take more than one day to fully implement. Also fortunately- no Spanish or Glee, so she can get through an entire weekend before she has to decide how to act around Mr. Schue and the gleeks. Feeling buoyed and a little bit dangerous, Rachel strides into the school humming, "Two lost souls on the highway of life/ We ain't even got a sister or brother/ Ain't it just great, ain't it just grand?/ We've got each other!"

This feeling of comaraderie and fellow-damnation is very quickly put to the test. Jesse, unfortunately, seems to be having a very difficult time respecting the sanctity of the Jesse-book.

Rachel, I'm bored.

These are my Biology notes, you jerk.

Hey, I can teach you everything you need to know about human anatomy. My physique is specially designed for instruction.

How is it possible to take the world's worst pickup line and make it worse?

Also- is there anytime in the history of the universe that that has ever worked as a pickup line?

...

No.

Now go away before I have to explain why I have such personal detailed knowledge of the inside of male genitalia.

Is that a threat?

...

Because it is rather physically stimulating.

You sound like Jacob Ben Israel.

When Jesse stops writing, Rachel is amazed to discover that yes, even Jacob Ben Israel has his role in the universe. It does make her wonder though how the penis ever achieved sentient life. Although maybe 'sentience' might be a bit of a stretch.

Although it is a lot more fun to have Jesse to herself during lunch (particularly since Rachel is still avoiding, well, everybody and eating in the auditorium), she decides that he really needs to stretch his legs, so to speak, before the next round of classes (because even when he's being an idiot, she's too selfish to want to go back to sitting through the lectures alone).

She wonders if she should be concerned at the look of malicious glee on Jesse's face when he takes off down the hallway.

She knows she should be concerned that she's pretty sure that the wall that he just phased through is the wall to Sue Sylvester's office.

Rachel decides to ignore it, because honestly? She's not sure how her life can get any weirder. And if Sue Sylvester actually is Cthulhu, it's not really her problem anyways. The hallway is oddly empty, which is rather lucky because there's no-one to notice her visible shudder, except maybe that guy at the end of the row of lockers.

Oh.

Puck.

Fortunately he's at some distance, but as Puck walks down the hallway-

"You know Berry makes me want to light myself on fire."

Rachel blinks, trying not to think about the emptiness where she thinks the hurt for that statement would sit. She keeps her expression carefully blank when Puck glances her way.

Wait.

Why is Puck shifting direction towards her?

"I only dated her because my Mom said I was a fucking Nazi for not dating Jewish girls."

Even though it doesn't (shouldn't) hurt, Rachel can't help but flinch when he stops in front of her. She's sure that she must be imagining the expression of hurt on Puck's face that vanishes almost as quickly as it comes.

"Berry, these guns aren't used for smacking around crazies, so you can stop looking like I trashed your Broadway posters and shit."

"Yeah, that was so last year," Rachel mutters and is shocked when Puck very, very briefly flinches.

There's no way he could have heard her, right?

She decides she must have imagined it, because Puck is now violating every socially acceptable rule of personal space. Really- does he need to loom over her like that? She knows she is differently-heighted- there's no need to brace his arm on her head and-

Did he always smell like he bathes in pine needles and smoke?

"Speaking of crazy, did the world end last night and I missed it? I mean, fuck, I would have thought it would have taken like, some kind of apocalyptic shit for you to miss a chance to humiliate yourself on MySpace."

What?

Oh fudge.

Rachel gives a rather forced grin- a pale shadow of the normal Smile of Congeniality Number Four. "Sometimes genius needs a little time to simmer. I'm sure my next performance will more than compensate for my fans."

With a quick nod, she pivots and heads off before he can ask any more awkward questions. This is not good. If Noah Puckerman can notice that something is off then-

Wait.

Noah Puckerman watches her MySpace?

Noah Puckerman is on MySpace?

Deciding that the universe still has mysteries beyond her comprehension she hurries to class, trying to ignore the prickling sensation between her shoulder blades.

xXx

Jesse shows up to every class.

He obeys all the rules they agreed on.

This is not a good thing.

Rachel has decided that she will never ever speak of this again.

She still isn't sure how it is possible to stage a one-man re-enactment of 'The Sound of Music' using penis puppets. On the plus side, she thinks she convinced her English teacher that the seizures would clear up by Monday.

xXx

She has a spare block just before the end of classes and she's completely grateful because she's fairly sure that in one more period Jesse would have made Beetlejuice look like a sweetheart. With that in mind, she hurriedly heads to the very back of the library where, yes, they can actually talk. Of course, most people would have just headed home, but Rachel Berry is far more committed to her academics than most people. So there. (Well that and going home probably means being treated to Jesse's version of 'Fiddler on the Roof' until Shabbat)

She actually manages to get a fair bit of homework done before, oddly enough, she is the one to break the silence.

"I'm surprised I haven't been slushied yet today. Now that I don't care, the neanderthal tendencies of the athletic population is something that I will no longer tolerate."

"So... you want to use your third wish to make them stop harassing you?"

"Oh no," Rachel grins as Jesse's face falls. "I've got a Plan."

There's a strange, grudging admiration in his voice as he mumbles, "Of course you do."

Rachel isn't sure why he expected otherwise. Surely he must realize that she never intends to use her third wish? She is quite sure that the first two should place her in the position she needs to achieve her dreams on her own. She makes a mental note to bring it up with him when they have more time.

Rachel stares off into space, thinking about what she needs to do. There really aren't enough hours in the day.

"I wish-"

"Yes?"

Jesse is leaning forward his face the perfect picture of greed and anticipation and it's like a bucket of cold water. No matter how much she's enjoying him, Rachel can't forget. Jesse is a paid-for pretend friend. He is a very good paid-for pretend friend, but he's still after the one thing that Rachel has that is solely hers. She gives him the nod of acknowledgment due a worthy opponent, but this is one game that Rachel can't afford to lose.

She needs a follow-up, preferably neutral and thoughtful, that will distract both of them from the bitter truth.

"Will you join me for Shabbat?"

It's almost like Rachel is trying to write 'The Big Book of Stupid'.

So it really is a complete surprise when Jesse says, almost hesitantly, "I'd like that."

Of course, he immediately follows it up with, "I make a marvelous Tevye, if I do say so myself."

She knew he was going to break out the Fiddler.

But still...

More than a little shaken and needing some time to regroup, Rachel insists that they part ways while she gets her homework.

It's while at her locker that the day finally starts to go her way. When Dave Karofsky comes towards her with a slushie just as she finishes grabbing her books, Rachel can't believe her luck.

Because, she suspects, the school secretary hates her, her locker is mixed in with a variety of members of McKinley's various athletic teams. Normally this is just a way to ensure maximum possible harassment, but today... Today it might actually work in her favor.

Honestly, she's not sure why she tolerated the slushies for so long. It could be at least in part because she genuinely thought they would get bored and stop if she didn't react. It could be because the adults in the school were so willing to ignore it.

But there was also a part of herself, that she can only acknowledge now, that thought that any attention was better than no attention at all.

Well, fudge that noise.

Rachel Berry is back.

Do they think that Sandy Ryerson fired himself?

She carefully schools her face into Wide-Eyed Expression of Surprise (With a Little Fear) Number Eight and casually, carefully takes a step backwards.

As she moves, Rachel quietly hums to herself, "You gotta know just what to say and how to say it/You gotta know what game to play and how to play it."

As Karofsky moves towards her she takes another step backwards, still humming, "You gotta stack those decks with a couple-a extra aces/ And this queen has her aces /In all the right places!"

She's very nearly in position now. "A little brains-a little talent/With the emphasis on the latta!"

She has reached optimal position! Rachel had thought that it would take days before she would be able to do this, but it appears that, for once, luck or the devil (maybe literally?) is on her side. She is now directly in line with a gentleman from McKinley's wrestling team.

A gentleman she only knows as "Moose", or more accurately, "Holy fuck, it's that giant fucker Moose."

She feels slightly guilty because she is sure that Moose is probably a talented, misunderstood boy, who does much more in his spare time than breaking brick walls with his head.

Not guilty enough however to stop her from innocently stepping out of the way when Karofsky lifts the cup in front of her.

xXx

As she watches the wrestling and hockey/football teams violently express their displeasure with one another (from a safe distance of course), she feels Jesse wrap an arm around her waist. "Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets?"

She turns into him smiling brilliantly. "I strongly disapprove of violence as a solution to problems, but I admit that there is something deeply satisfying-"

"About seeing them receive half of the bruises and bleeding they inflicted on you?"

Rachel is a little startled that he'd noticed, but she ultimately just sighs. "In their defense, I think that most of them don't make the connection between the damage an iceball can do and throwing containers of improperly ground ice at me. I'm just relieved that it should stop now."

Jesse bites his lip. "I must admit that I don't fully understand why you don't think that this is going to make things worse rather than better?"

Rachel shrugs, with a slightly bittersweet smile.

"You don't know McKinley as well as I do. I've always been incidental, Jesse, and I'm about to become a lot more so. I was an easy target, but give them a new shinier toy to play with, even if it's just to hate, and they'll forget all about me."

It isn't as depressing as it once was, but Rachel finds a quiet regret that is not about McKinley, but that she never even had a chance to be more than she was.

Leaning quietly into Jesse's shoulder, she makes her way to the parking lot, trying, again, to ignore the sensation that someone, somewhere is watching. It's probably the silliest paranoia she's ever experienced. After all, when has anyone at McKinley, other than Jacob Ben Israel, ever wanted to watch her?

xXx

Afterschool is pretty much as Rachel imagined.

Jesse does sing Fiddler.

He is disgustingly good.

But in Rachel's humble opinion, her Golde holds up pretty well, thank you very much.

He does disappear again, but is back by the time that she's ready to celebrate dinner. Deciding that she's better off not knowing, Rachel actually bites her tongue and puts together the food for Shabbat.

"Shabbat shalom," she sings out as she brings out the meal, before realizing that that's probably not appropriate.

It's not as awkward as she thought it would be. He even sits through the blessing without bursting into flame. After they've broken the challah, there's something that Rachel, in the spirit of the honesty she's tried to live her life by (other than that stupid, pointless lie to Finn of all people), feels the need to air.

"I apologize if I have inadvertently misled you into believing something based on the speed of my initial wishes. I have an organized mind and have prepared for many unlikely scenarios, although apparently not as unlikely as I had imagined. Although I am quite sure that my first two wishes are not voided by this decision, I hope that you don't disappear once I let you know that I have no intention of ever using my third wish. I may not be the world's most observant Jew, but I am hardly going to sign away the most vital part of my being, that provides the Streisand to my Diamond and that is the only part of myself that is entirely mine and not shaped by outside forces."

There's a heavy silence that Rachel hadn't expected before Jesse finally replies.

"You will."

Rachel thinks that if he sounded confident or arrogant or like Jesse, she would have had no problem believing in her own victory.

He sounded sad.

Rachel has never been more terrified.

xXx

Any and all comments welcomed and appreciated!

Updated May 2, 2010