Thank you for reading, and reviewing, I appreciate it. Just a heads up to remind everyone that I am still not from the US, and on occasion genuinely do not spot the British phrasing that can creep in to my writing. Telling me will help me improve, so if there's anything glaringly wrong, please let me know :)

It's a month later.

Rachel declines to analyze in too much detail what it is a month later on from, but just is aware that this is somewhat of an anniversary, when she wakes in her bed.

The right side of her bed is still warm, and she slides a hand over the space where Brody had been sleeping, before wrapping herself in a white sheet, and sitting up, cross-legged, so she can see what the weather is up to outside her window.

The shower is running on the other side of the wall, and Rachel toys with the idea of getting up to go join Brody, but ultimately decides against it. It's Saturday, which means he's got two shows today. Rachel would need a little headspace, and so presumes the same is the case with Brody. Rachel is pretty sure that if she received a blowjob in the morning, she'd be a little distracted for the rest of the day. Never mind the confusion of discovering that she had a penis.

Unwillingly, she catches her own eye in the mirror, and makes a face, because what did she just think?

In an attempt to distract herself, she reaches for her phone, and checks FaceBook.

She's had a couple of friend requests, since she went to a cast lunch with Brody's work colleagues. Mainly from other chorus members; one of them, a friendly boy called Jacob, had been in the year above Brody at NYADA, and Rachel recognized him as one of the many success stories that Cassandra July had paraded in front of her in an effort to make her feel inadequate.

It had been enough to make her on edge for nearly the whole meal, until Jacob reached for her hand, as the entrée's had been cleared, and promised her that Cassandra did that to everyone she thought had potential, and had spent the entirety of Jacob's first year calling him Jacqueline.

It makes her feel better, a lot better, and the wine helps too, until they end up in a karaoke bar close to midnight, and Rachel is friends with everyone.

She'd decided, abruptly, that evening, that maybe Brody being on Broadway wasn't the complete disaster she'd thought.

Rachel had always been sure that she could make it on her own.

But having contacts with people who were already in the business was unlikely to make her eventual realization of her dream harder.

It made it simpler to be happy with Brody, these past few weeks. Simpler to remember that Brody was now a big part of her life, the rock around which nearly all of her NY life orbited.

He makes her happy, and treats her well. Why would anyone want to throw that away?

She does think about kissing Quinn, about how it had felt. But god knows she isn't mad enough to end her relationship with Brody, and scupper her hard won friendship with Quinn, because of how one kiss made her feel. She isn't insane.

(One kiss had made her feel like she was singing, with her entire body, in a way Brody's kisses never quite do.)

…

Santana is plotting.

She feels like a Bond villain. It's amazing. She's wearing sunglasses, heels, and is imagining that she's got a gun secreted somewhere on her person, and can break a man's neck with her bare hands.

Eventually, when the world does realize that she is a big deal, she's going to only play criminal masterminds. Or hot action heroines. That occasionally burst into song. She's not sure what genre that is, but she is going to be the queen of it.

And so, sure, at the moment she's mainly working as a barista, and every now and then earning cash on the side as an extra, but what's the point of being in New York if you can't dream big?

Anyway, this is hardly a significant plot, but rather just a covert meeting with Kurt, but Rachel and Brody are not to find out. Which is, well it's unlikely they would, even if Santana wasn't incognito, but things are more fun, this way.

Kurt's standing at the intersection on Fifth Avenue, as he said he would be. Santana doesn't even acknowledge him, just strides past him, into the park. Kurt falls in behind her.

'Are you being followed?'

Kurt skips a second to catch up with her, and says 'Not that I'm aware of, but Rachel is insane when she thinks a secret is happening, so… maybe.'

'Okay. Do you want coffee, or shall we find a bunker somewhere to speak openly?'

'Coffee. Coffee and a bench somewhere, would be ideal.'

…

Santana always makes sure she buys from a chain that isn't her own, (and fuck the employee discount, really. It's an insult) so it takes them a little longer than usual to take their seats in the park, on one of the standard stretch of benches that her and Kurt meet up on when the weather is good and Santana's lunch break aligns with Kurt's.

Kurt nods at her heels.

'I don't know how you do a shift in those killers, really?'

Santana glances down at them. 'I use them to crush the fingers of people who insist on keeping scraps of change, rather than tipping like any normal person would do. And enough small talk please Hummel, I've got other things to be doing. Like wiping tables.'

Kurt laughs at her, and pushes his sunglasses upwards so they rest on top of his head.

'So then. The update. Brody's friends are still trying to do a surprise birthday slash 'well done for actually getting a job' party thing. Michael, you know…'

Santana rolls her eyes, and chimes in 'attractive Michael.' Kurt claps his hands once, and continues.

'Well, he and I are practically lovers, right now, there have been so many secret texts. And Michael, due to his possession both brains and beauty, doesn't want to tell Rachel because he knows that Rachel and secrets do not end well.'

Santana nods at that, in complete agreement. 'Yes. Evidenced by your twentieth, and the July the Fourth disaster.'

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee, and continues.

'Therefore, Michael needs me. And you to a lesser extent. But he really needs me. If this goes to plan, he might propose.'

'Yes, he might forget his sexual orientation and realize that sparkly boys are what his heart truly desires.'

Kurt snaps his fingers under her nose. 'Exactly, although let's not fall into homophobic slurs, Santana, because you are just as gay as I am.'

Santana taps at her watch meaningfully, because time is ticking and their usual game of who is the gayest gay will only waste their plotting chances. And besides, it's obviously Kurt. Kurt re-arranges his scarf, and continues.

'So, we need to make Rachel think that she is planning a romantic meal for the two of them, at Michael's specified restaurant, and make sure they both arrive on time, none the wiser. That way Brody is actually surprised, and if Rachel has a small seizure then we can bundle her off into a cupboard and get her to not flip out.'

Sounds straight-forward enough. Santana checks her cell, suddenly wishing that she had attractive Michael's number, so she could call him and congratulate him for realizing that Kurt and Santana are evil geniuses, when it comes to gently manipulating their friends.

'Does sexy Mike say whether we can bring people? I might ask the girls, they all fawn over Brody whenever it is a group event, it's been a while since we've all been out.'

'The harem? That should be fine, Michael's booked out the whole top floor, Brody's parents are paying. The more the better, as long as they've, you know, met Brody before.'

Santana feels a little twist of pleasure, because Brittany's technically met Brody before, and so she could invite her. It is unlikely Brittany would be able to get over, but at least it's an opportunity show her that Brittany is still Santana's number one choice.

Kurt seems to read her mind.

'Brittany too, if she wants. It'll probably only be the first hour or so in the bar, then we can go our separate ways, so you can seduce Brittany in an alley, or whatever you ladies do.'

Santana cuffs him around the head, because she and Brittany are far classier than that. 'Maybe Quinn too, though? Because if me and Brittany do get distracted, and Michael gives you a lap dance, that way at least Quinn can keep Rachel occupied.'

Kurt hums in agreement. 'A fine plan. Quinn is also good at de-weirding Rachel, so if Berry does have a moment, we can throw her at Quinn. Perfect, in fact.'

Santana drains her coffee, and stands, wincing as her feet re-acclimatize to the pressure.

'Excellent. This Saturday, then, no? I'll make some calls. Mind your phone, Kurt.'

She does enjoy a scheme.

…

Quinn has spent a month not thinking about Rachel.

She's also spent a month getting herself off, thinking exclusively about Rachel. Rachel who is completely unavailable, and completely a bad idea.

She also succumbed to temptation, and googled the Swedish film Santana had made her watch half on, and streamed it one lonely afternoon when she was sure Ashleigh was not around.

It really didn't help that the brunette left her nice man, in the end. It hadn't helped either, that Quinn had never seen sex between two girls filmed in such a way before. The porn that Steve had requested she watch with him (two weeks before Quinn had broken up with him) had involved overly made up women writhing about in a very odd manner that Quinn hadn't found sexy in the slightest.

Quinn has decided that this is just a phase. People crush on their friends all the time. And sure, so her sex drive suddenly does seem to have found an extra setting, all of a sudden, but that doesn't have to mean anything.

It is a…compliment, maybe. One that Rachel never needs to find out about. But she certainly isn't imagining Rachel in any degrading or compromising positions. It's usually Quinn who is on her knees, as it were, while Rachel tells her how hard and how fast and when…

Quinn clears her throat abruptly, because she really doesn't need to be pursuing this line of thought in the library, of all places.

If Quinn found out that Rachel was pleasuring herself while thinking about Quinn, she would have no objections what so ever. In fact, she'd be…delighted?

She'd be turned on. Fuck it, she appears to be permanently turned on, at the moment. Maybe this is what it feels like to be a teenage boy. Or Santana.

Quinn turns the page in her book, even though she's absorbed nothing from the previous page, or chapter, for that matter. She just hopes that if she keeps gamely playing along with normality, her body will tire of its current obsession.

After ten more minutes of gazing blankly at the same page, Quinn decides it is time for lunch.

…

Outside, sitting on the steps in the main square, she calls Santana. A girl from a class Quinn attended last year catches her eye as she jogs across the space, and waves quickly at her. Quinn grins, and then the call connects.

'Hey loser. I'm at work.'

Quinn rolls her eyes at herself, because obviously Santana's at work. It's mid week lunch time, Quinn knows.

'Oh sure, sorry, you shouldn't have picked up, it's nothing.'

Santana holds her phone away from her mouth for a second, and appears to yell something at someone who Quinn just makes out as being called Fabio. Then she returns.

'It's fine, Fabio the hopeless can actually do me a favor for once.'

Quinn winces, 'Poor Fabio. I don't want to put anyone out.'

The lines gets quiet for a second, and then Santana speaks again.

'It's only Fabbo. He's a useless shit; feel nothing for him. I don't even know what his real name is.'

Quinn frowns at the air, for a moment. 'So why do you call him Fabio?'

Santana sighs. 'I forget. It would have been something funny though. Anyway, I've locked myself in our supplies cupboard now. What's up?'

Stalling, Quinn stares blindly over the quad, wondering how she anticipated this conversation would go. Did she think that Santana would be able to guess that Quinn is calling purely because she wants to check that crushing over friends is totally normal and fixable?

Besides, if she was looking for that sort of reassurance then Santana was the worst person to pick, seeing as her friendship crush on Brittany has resulted in the two of them becoming unofficial life partners.

What had she been thinking?'

'Hello? Quinn?'

'Hi, yes, no, nothing's up. I guess I was just bored in the library, and wanted some distraction. How's everybody?'

Quinn doesn't know who this everybody is, but maybe Santana will mention Rachel, who Quinn hasn't heard from in nearly three weeks.

'Yeah, yeah, fine. I'm glad you rang, actually, this means that we can use your credit. What are you doing this Saturday?'

Reaching automatically for her planner, Quinn frowns. 'Umm, I think there's a draft of an essay I said I was going to submit to my tutor for checking…'

Santana interrupts. 'Incorrect. You're coming here, okay? You can stay in Julia's room, she's away for the week. I'll change the sheets, and even hoover.'

Quinn feels her face twist at the concept of sleeping in someone else's bed. 'But my essay…?'

Santana sighs. 'We have this thing called email now Quinn. It's important that you are here; has Kurt spoken to you yet?'

What? Quinn stays silent, unwilling to commit herself to whatever this is, (New Haven feels safer, at the moment.) After a second, Santana starts speaking again.

'Okay, clearly not, long story short, before my supervisor gets back. Brody birthday, this weekend. Surprise party thing, Rachel not been told to prevent her from doing a Rachel and 'accidentally' telling him. Everyone's invited, you included. You need to be there because you are talented at managing Rachel, okay, because she doesn't do surprises well. Also, for fun, yeah? We haven't been out dancing for ages.'

That's a lot of details for Quinn to try and process at once. Santana seems to take her silence as an acceptance.

'You can bring Ashleigh, as long as you guys don't mind sharing the bed. Or one of you could have the floor, I guess.'

Quinn laughs at that. 'Okay, nobody is sleeping on the floor at your place.'

Santana swears at her in Spanish. 'Whatever, you neat freak. That settled then? If you guys get here around midday-ish, that gives us plenty of time.'

Quinn could say no, she realizes, as long as she comes up with a plausible excuse. She's probably got about half a second.

'Okay, well, been great chatting to you. Ring me if there are any problems and you remember how to speak, Quinn. Gotta go now, check Fabs hasn't set anything on fire. See you Saturday.'

Quinn stares at her now disconnected phone for a moment, and then sighs to herself. That had not been the planned outcome of calling Santana at all.

She should avoid it.

…

Rachel finishes early on a Wednesday, and gets to travel home before the rush, which is an unmitigated luxury.

She was hoping for a bit of time to herself, at their apartment.

She had been considering getting in touch with Quinn. Calling her, maybe. Rachel hadn't heard from her since the soup messages. Rachel had sent a message a few days later, something mundane about the tv show that she had been watching, but hadn't heard anything back.

Rachel isn't used to panicking about her friendship status with Quinn, but that is what she has been doing, these past few weeks.

And so a phone call, just to say hi, can't possibly hurt.

But when she opens the door, she can hear music playing, which means Kurt's here.

Calling Quinn without the apartment being complete empty is out of the question.

'Hi Kurt! Why are you here?'

Kurt appears around the corner of his door, looking pleased to see her.

'Finished all my errands early, so I came home. I'm glad you're here! We need a catch up.'

…

Okay, so Kurt is asking her really weird questions about Brody.

She really doesn't know why everyone seems suddenly incredibly focused on her relationship and underlining how wonderful it is. She is aware Brody is lovely. She doesn't need all the memos.

'Kurt! What is this, an intervention? I'm sure that any children Brody and I ever produce would be very cute, yes. But that certainly will not be happening any time soon.'

Kurt levels a steady stare at her.

'Would you marry him? If he asked you? Can I design the wedding?'

Rachel probably looks at Kurt like he's gone mad.

'Okay, whoa there Kurt, I'm marrying no-one, right now. My dads have only just recovered from the last attempt.'

Kurt waves his coffee spoon at her airily. 'Oh, not right now. But in the future. Could you see yourself marrying him?'

Rachel scrunches up her face. 'I…maybe? This feels a bit premature. We're certainly not in a financial position to be thinking of marriage, besides anything else.'

Kurt looks at her with a raised eyebrow. 'Okay, so not marriage. You would like to live with him, though? Wake up with him every day?'

That wouldn't be…bad, Rachel supposes. She just doesn't understand where this is going. She nods, cautiously, and Kurt's face splits into a wide grin.

Shit. Wait. Is Kurt considering moving out? Because… that would explain the sudden line of interrogation on living together. He's hoping that Brody will just take Kurt's place on the contract.

Rachel is not okay with this.

'But I live with you. I can't imagine not living with you now. Who would I watch trashy tv with?'

Kurt reaches across to take her hand, shushes her. 'I know, it'd be painful. We could live tweet it, maybe? But anyway, Brody's birthday this weekend, no? What are the plans?'

Rachel's really confused now, because she could swear she'd already had a conversation about this with Kurt a couple of weeks back. She eyes him suspiciously.

'Well, like I said… I thought we could just go somewhere quiet, have a meal. Just the two of us.'

Kurt nods vaguely, seemingly only half listening. He then produces a leaflet out of nowhere.

'You should go there. Santana knows someone on the management, she can get you a discount. And, ahh, Brody was saying the other day how he hasn't had tapas for ages.'

Rachel squints at it, and then looks at Kurt, startled. 'He was? But… really? You mentioned this to Santana?'

Kurt rolls his eyes at her, as if Rachel is being spectacularly obtuse. 'Yes, duh. Do you want me to ask Santana if she can put a word in, get you a good table? Say, seven thirty on Saturday? For the two of you? I don't mind.'

Rachel cannot seem to get her balance in this conversation, no matter how hard she tries. She fills the gap by frowning at Kurt, who smiles gently at her after a second. 'Come on, it means you haven't got to hunt around. This is a recommendation, and Santana will deal with it, she probably gets some kind of commission, knowing her. I know you're crazy busy right now.'

Rachel's suddenly exhausted, she doesn't know why. She picks the clearest route of escape she can see.

'Umm. Sure. Thanks Kurt. I am quite tired actually. I think I'll just go…' Rachel motions vaguely at her bedroom door, and Kurt nods understandingly.

'Of course sweet-cheeks. You just let Auntie Kurt deal with this.'

When Rachel gets to close her door it's a relief.

Her sheets smell of Brody. She rolls away from his side, searches for sleep.

…

Ashleigh is pressed into her side, squashed in between her and Santana, in the cab.

'Okay, just promise me, girls, not every man who works in musical theatre is gay, right? Because I've prepared for this night, do you know what I'm saying?'

Quinn rolls her eyes at her, while Santana grins.

She'd been doing the right thing, and trying to calculate how to get out of this event, for the entirety of her afternoon in the library. But then all that had been for nothing, because Santana, the sneaky bitch, had messaged Ashleigh on Facebook, and here they are. In a cab. In New York. Heading to a party Quinn really shouldn't attend.

Ashleigh and Santana get along weirdly well. Probably because Ashleigh can be pure filth, when she wants to be.

Quinn's dressed down, is probably only just smart enough, really. Somehow she was hoping it would make her less nervous, as though nothing of significance could possibly happen. Nothing is going to happen.

She'll be able to go home, soon.

…

Brody had his suspicions, when Rachel had explained that Kurt had recommended it, because this place had been one of his favorites during his first year in New York, and it had just seemed too much of a coincidence.

He hadn't said anything though, because he didn't want to tempt an anti-climax.

But when the maître de double checks at his name, and then starts ushering them upstairs to the floor that Brody knows is only used for group events, he can't help it, and presses his lips to Rachel's ear.

'Thank you baby.'

Rachel looks at him with a very confused expression, and seems to be about to ask a question. But then they're let into the darkened room, and Brody's grinning even before he hears the first yell.

…

Quinn hates waiting. She hates the surprise part, the tension. She stands around to one side, because she isn't really part of the collection of friends who are actually waiting for Brody. She feels like a hanger on, someone who has just talked their way into a place they shouldn't be.

It doesn't help that Ashleigh is clinging to her arm and giving a running commentary of who's hot and who's not. So far every boy seems to be hot. Ashleigh and her boyfriend have broken up on a more permanent basis, it would seem.

Santana and Kurt are closer to the front, having the privilege of actually feeling like they belong here. A couple of unspecified girls are here too with Santana, one of which Quinn thinks she vaguely recognizes from the apartment.

She feels like she's having heart palpitations.

A second later, and the lights are being thrown on, and everyone is yelling. Brody is immersed in a forest of bodies, and Michael is hoisting him up onto his shoulders, so Brody can lean down and hi-five people.

Rachel's standing to one side, blinking really quickly with a fixed smile. Quinn wants to go over to her, but doesn't want to risk sensory over load, on Rachel's part (or possibly her own), and so just waits. After a moment, Kurt rushes to her and scoops her up, hugging her quickly. He murmurs a few things in Rachel's ear, and Rachel smacks him on the shoulder a few times, laughing in a way that doesn't look quite right, but looks close enough.

Quinn still can't figure out whether now is the moment to go over, but Brody is completely the centre of attention, and Quinn feels a bit safer, a bit more like she can take a step forward.

After a moment, Kurt catches her eye, and then leans down to Rachel, pointing towards Quinn. Rachel blinks, and Quinn can tell that Rachel takes a really deep breath, before looking at her.

…

It's Ashleigh who is hugging her, Rachel recognizes after a second. She remembers to say the appropriate things, she hopes, but her head is still ringing and this is all a bit much and she'd really like to sit down somewhere quiet, for a moment.

She's looking at Quinn, over Ashleigh's shoulder, who's approaching her slowly, like she's a cat that's just been spooked.

'Hi Quinn.' Rachel finds herself taking Quinn's hand, when she's close enough, because this is someone whose calmness she trusts. Quinn smiles at her, after a second, and Rachel had forgotten, it would seem, what Quinn's smile looks like.

Their fingers link, automatically. And Rachel knows then, with a wave of realization, that she really is in trouble.

'Hi Rachel.'