A/N: Sorry for the extremely long hiatus. This is really only half of my planned chapter, but since it's been taking me so long to write it, I figure I'd post it anyways to give you guys something. It's pretty fluffy lol.

As always, please Read and Review. Reviews keep me writing :)

After the talk I had with Leroy, quickies were out of the question, while her fathers were home anyway. Making out on Rachel's bed, however, seemed totally within the rules. So when she still hadn't retracted her bottom lip, several minutes after I broke the news about the quickie being a joke, I found myself falling onto the bed on top of her, kissing away the disappointment. Despite Rachel's dismay, I discovered her body really hadn't recovered from the previous night, as I settled between her legs and she winced from the fly of my jeans coming into contact with her centre.

"You okay," I whispered, brushing my lips teasingly against hers as I shifted my weight onto my forearms and knees.

"Perhaps I was a little overeager when agreeing so hastily to your fraudulent proposal of intercourse," Rachel blushed, groaning lightly and tightening her grasp on my shirt from the sting, "It would appear that after participating in sexual activities for the first time, it takes longer than I expected for my body to convalesce even though my libido may be urging me forward."

I stared down at her blankly for an entire minute before shaking my head, "Just because I've only been faking stupidity, does not mean I can follow when you talk like you've swallowed a thesaurus."

"You're only saying that to poke fun at me," Rachel said, rolling her eyes, "You understood every word I said."

She was right, of course, but it was so easy to mock her and she knew I was only playing with her.

"So the just of it is, you're too sore for round two even though you want it," I chuckled, kissing my way along her jaw while tangling my good hand in her soft hair.

"Why do I get the feeling you're teasing me," she gasped as the fingers on my free hand found bare skin at her hip to tickle.

"Doesn't sound like something I'd do," I answered playfully, planting a final kiss to her lips before pushing myself off her bed and pulling her up with me, "Besides, we gotta be good and follow the rules."

"What rules," Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly as I disappeared into her closet with the excuse of finding her a sweater to hide her bruised and bitten shoulders with, but really more interested to see if it truly was all short skirts and argyle.

"Oh," I said nonchalantly as I flicked my finger through the hangers, stopping momentarily to enjoy the pink plaid school girl skirt, one of my favourites, "Leroy made me promise that I would stay out of your bed."

"That seems a little extreme," Rachel pouted, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the entrance to her closet.

"Does it," I said, giving her a pointed look over my shoulder before continuing to snoop through her clothes. There was a lot of argyle, some shirts with animals on them that I was certain she'd had since she was a kid but figured she still fit into since she was still kid-sized. Near the back I even found a Power Rangers t-shirt and behind that a Strawberry Shortcake one.

"Perhaps not," she admitted then stopped when she noticed me staring at her while holding up the Power Rangers and Strawberry Shortcake t-shirts, "What? Sometimes I like to work out in them."

I looked down at the shirts that I likely wouldn't be able to get over my breasts, then back at her, "You can't still fit into them."

"Of course I can," Rachel scoffed, quickly whipping her workout tank top over her head and grabbing for the Power Rangers shirt, dead set on proving me wrong. I hid my smile with my hand as I watched her struggle into the shirt and was even more amused when she had gotten it on. To say the shirt was tight would be a drastic understatement. I wasn't even convinced that she could breathe, nevermind workout in it. It also didn't even reach her naval, but despite its impractical use as an article of clothing, I had to admit, she looked pretty adorable. Or hot. Or maybe both.

"See," Rachel said triumphantly, her hands placed firmly on her hips, "Fits just fine."

"You're sucking in," I giggled, poking her stomach, causing her to double over and cover herself from my impending torture.

"Don't even think about it," Rachel warned, trying to turn away from me, but I was already passed thinking about it and instead I was tackling her to the floor of her closet and attacking her with vicious tickles.

She squirmed and laughed, squealing as she feebly attempted to bat my hands away from her and slide out from under me. She managed to turnover onto her stomach, using her hands and feet to try to grip the carpet and get away. It was a useless attempt. Even with my broken arm, I was still a lot stronger than her and my entire body was pinning her to the floor. I felt her try to push off the ground with her toes, making her butt stick up and press against me in just the right way, causing my right hand to instinctively take hold of her hip while a moan escaped my lips. Rachel raised her head, smirking back at me as she rolled her hips against me, knowing all my weaknesses.

"Can we do it like this next time," I whispered hotly into her ear, beating her at her own game as I ground my own hips against her, gripping her hip tightly.

She froze at the words, chewing on her bottom lip, and I wondered if it was too soon to be saying things like that. It probably wasn't a good idea to be assuming next times already and thinking that just because we did it once that we would be doing it regularly. Even if she had jumped on the idea of having sex just a little while ago, it could've still been the excitement of the night before extending into the morning. Plus, she was a virgin last night and I was already talking about different positions. I was probably going too fast again. This was all new territory to me and ever since I received the backlash from Artie after the first time I had sex with him, it was hard to not second guess myself with every decision I made. Especially with Rachel. I loved her too much to screw it up over a stupid comment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-," I apologized softly, loosening my hold on her hip and sliding my hand up and down her side in an attempt to relax her again.

"No," she said, cutting me off, taking my hand from her side and pressing it back to her hip, "What else do you want to do?"

"Ummm," I stuttered, not expecting that to be her answer and really not knowing how to respond to it. The things I wanted to do to her were endless, some maybe a little out of the ordinary and others perhaps downright twisted, but even the tamest of answers I could think of seemed too explicit to tell her. Other than a few mild comments made during her sophomore year, Rachel never really talked about sex and continuously blushed whenever the topic was brought up, no matter what the setting. Maybe things were different now that she had experienced it, maybe one night had matured her and caused her sexuality to take a new hold on her, but whatever the case, I felt like I was walking a very fine line.

I decided to go the safe route and fish for the correct answer, tugging lightly at her earlobe with my teeth before whispering, "What do you want me to do?"

She saw right through me.

"Nuh-uh," she warned, her hips continuously grinding to a steady rhythm while her fingers pressed mine deeper into her hipbone, "I want your answer."

"Normal stuff, completely vanilla and nothing at all out of the ordinary," I lied, it seemed like the right thing to do. It was hard to tell if Rachel would think my fantasy of tying her to my bed would be hot or demeaning to women, even if I was female myself.

"I think you're lying," she moaned, pushing my hand down from her hip and pressing it between her legs. Her hips bucked against the contact and her head fell to rest against the back of her hand on the floor, "Tell me. I won't judge you."

No, of course not. Why would you judge me for wanting to screw you doggie style in the ass with a strap on.

"Maybe if you tell me one of yours first, I'll feel more comfortable with sharing mine," I answered, choking on the words as I discovered how wet she was even through her thin yoga pants.

She rocked against my hand one more time before rolling beneath me onto her back and said without any hesitation, as if she was just waiting for her chance to blurt it out, "I want to do it on the stage in the auditorium."

"Really," I said, smiling as I thought about it, not that it was all that surprising, "With or without an audience?"

"Well," she said, a blush covering her cheeks and her eyes dropped to focus on an invisible spot on my t-shirt, avoiding eye contact, "When I fantasize about it in my head, there may be people watching, but if we were fulfilling this fantasy in real life, I would rather it be just the two of us."

"Anyone in particular in that audience that you fantasize about," I pressed, taking great satisfaction in watching her squirm uncomfortably.

"There may be some people that we know," she shrugged intending to leave it at that, but I silently stared her down, waiting for her to break and name names, and she did after less than half a minute of the silent treatment, "Okay, I don't know. Maybe the glee club."

"You want to have sex in front of the glee club," I asked, raising an eyebrow with curiosity. I wasn't judging her or really thought it was that weird, scat fetishes were weird to me, I just wanted to understand why she wanted to have sex in front of them. I wanted to know why it turned her on.

"You think I'm insane," she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Yes," I admitted with a soft chuckle, "But not because you're an exhibitionist. You're a performer so I can get it. I just want to know why you want them, specifically to be watching?"

"I guess," she started then let out a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes as she nervously began to pick at the fabric of my t-shirt with her fingers, "I don't know. Everyone thinks I'm repulsive and that no one would ever want me, especially not sexually. I guess I would like to shove it in their faces that someone like me could be with someone as beautiful as you."

"That doesn't make any sense," I said, shaking my head, "Finn and Puck both dated you and tried to sleep with you so many times and Santana's in love with you so-"

"What did you just say," Rachel interrupted, her eyes narrowed and her fingers stilled immediately.

Shit, I forgot to tell her about that. Actually, I had thought about it a little more and decided that I wasn't going to tell her unless I absolutely had to. There was no getting around it now.

"What are you talking about," Rachel snapped again when I didn't respond right away.

I sighed, not really having the energy to get into this conversation, "Santana has a crush on you."

"No," Rachel said firmly, shaking her head, "Santana hates me. Santana slushies me in the halls, smears cat poo on my car door handles and cuts my hair when she sits behind me in home ec."

"And you think she tortures you because she doesn't like you," I said, sitting back on my knees. Rachel stared at me with a look of pure shock, eyes wide and jaw slack, "She's obsessed with you, Rach. No one spends that much of their time thinking about someone they really hate. It was a lie she forced herself to believe so that she didn't have to admit to herself that she was in love with you."

"I don't believe you," Rachel whispered, staring blankly at the floor, "She hurt me. She pushed me against the lockers."

"Because she was angry with me for stealing you away from her," I explained. I knew it sounded crazy, especially to Rachel who had been suffering for so long by Santana's hand, and it was hard to explain that it was just how Santana was. She had been fighting who she was for so long, the only way she knew how to cope was to deny everything and lash out at the ones she cared about most.

"Stealing me away from her," Rachel repeated bitterly, "She never had me."

"But in her mind, you were hers," I said, "Didn't you ever wonder why she was so quick to have sex with Finn and how she kept trying to break you guys up? Or how she's been extra psychotic ever since we started seeing each other?"

"Because she wanted you back," Rachel said, getting to her feet and walking out of the closet as she began to pace around her room. I followed her outside the closet and sunk down onto her bed, watching her as she paced frantically, "She was angry because I stole you away from her, Brittany. She's always loved you."

"No," I said softly and a little sad as my eyes fell to my hands in my lap, "Santana never loved me. I think she wanted to and she tried to, because even though I'm a girl, at least I'm a Cheerio and popular. In Santana's mind, if she had to be with a girl, if she had to have those feelings, at least it was for a cheerleader and not you."

"A loser you mean," Rachel spat the words with a short, miserable laugh.

"That's not how I see you," I said, grabbing her wrist as she paced past me and forcing her to look at me, "I love you, more than anything, ever. You're smart and beautiful and strong and passionate and no one in this world will ever be able to hold a candle next to you in my eyes. I'm just trying to explain Santana's view. She never meant to hurt you, she's just lost and so miserable that she's taking it out on everyone else. She hates herself for loving you, so she torments you."

"Why didn't you tell me," Rachel whispered, her teeth clenched and her eyes welling as she stared off past me, still refusing to meet my gaze.

"At first I thought it wasn't my place to say anything," I answered truthfully, "It wasn't my secret to tell. Santana only recently realized it herself and I thought that we could just ignore it. I was going to tell you after Santana had her breakdown on Friday, but I... I guess I felt a little insecure."

"Insecure," Rachel questioned, her eyes finally meeting mine as her brow furrowed, "You thought that I'd find out that one of the girls who has been making my life a living hell for the past few years is in love with me and I'd jump for joy and get on the Santana Lopez band wagon?"

I shrugged, my eyes falling back to my lap, "That's kind of what happened with us."

"Uh no," Rachel said, folding her arms across her chest, "That's not at all what happened with us. I didn't fall in love with you because I found out you liked me. I fell in love with you because I got to know the real you and what an amazing person you are. Okay, so maybe you were one of those girls who bullied me in the past, but you weren't the malicious one. You didn't come up with new ways to hurt me, you just followed orders and to be honest, if our lives were reversed, I would have done the same thing. It's no secret that I don't mind stepping on a few backs to get where I want to be in life so I understand why you did what you did, even if I don't like it. But Santana is an entirely different story. She's evil to the core. She's not following orders, she's making them."

"She's not that bad when you know her," I said, because it was true. I knew how sweet she could be and how caring she was towards her friends. She had built so many walls around her, that the only people who got to see the real Santana was Quinn and I. Not even Quinn knew as much about her as I did, they spent too much time competing with each other.

"She threw me into the lockers, Brittany, don't you remember how I got this bruise," Rachel screamed, lifting the sleeve on her t-shirt to reveal a large dark purple and blue bruise. I winced at the sight, remembering how petrified she was, cowering against the lockers and looking so tiny, "How can you say she's not that bad?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized softly, standing up and cupping her face with my hands, "Can we please stop talking about Santana? I don't want to fight about her. You're the only thing that matters to me and I don't ever want to fight with you."

Rachel took a deep breath, closing her eyes and then let it out slowly as she opened them again, "We're not fighting. I just find it hard to believe that you would actually think I would leave you for her, just like that. You've made me happier than anyone else ever has. I thought last night proved how much I care about you."

"It did," I smiled, stretching my arms out and resting them on her shoulders as she wrapped hers around my waist, "It was the best night of my life."

"Mine too," Rachel smiled, eyes dropping to my chest as a blush returned to her cheeks. I pressed a light kiss to her bangs covering her forehead as she whispered, "My life is so perfect right now that it scares me."

"Why," I asked, pulling my head back slightly so I could catch her eyes. She was avoiding eye contact again though, focusing on my t-shirt as she pressed her lips together.

"It never lasts," she whispered and when she finally did lift her eyes to mine there were tears in them, "At least not to me."

"This," I said, folding my arms around her and tightening our embrace, "This is going to last forever. I don't know what the future will bring or how many obstacles will be thrown at us, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I will love you for the rest of my life. I'll never leave you, Rach, not for anything. No matter what happens, you can always be sure of that and never worry about it."

"Really," Rachel smiled, her eyes wide as the tears spilled down her cheeks, "You really want to be with me forever?"

"Definitely," I smiled back with a firm nod, "I'm going to be there when you get your acceptance letter to Julliard-"

"Actually it's NYADA now," Rachel interrupted.

"Okay, NYADA," I corrected, "I'm going to be there on the day we graduate. We're going to get a tiny, dank apartment in New York where the heat only works half the time and the super tells us everyday that he'll get on top of it tomorrow. But it won't matter, because you will be going to school for what you love and we'll be together and that's all we need to be happy. I'm going to be there on opening night, with flowers, when you get the starring role in some obscure off-Broadway musical and every night after that. Then when you get your big break and move to the lights of Broadway, I'll be there too."

"What else," Rachel whispered, caught up in my fantasy of the future.

"Well," I said softly, thinking for a moment before I continued, "Of course I'll be there on our wedding day, now that the laws have changed in New York we can have the perfect wedding, and I'll have a reason to wear a top hat, cause I think I could totally rock it."

Rachel laughed, biting her lip as she waited for more of my story.

I curled my fingers into her hair, teasing the locks as I said, "Then we'd honeymoon Vegas-"

"Paris," Rachel interrupted again.

"Paris," I laughed, "Staying there for a whole month, walking through the city, hand-in-hand, under the stars, then staying in bed until noon, but not because we were sleeping."

I felt her fingers dig into the small of my back as I spoke and she closed her eyes as she imagined it.

"When we got back to New York," I said, "You'd continue your leading role on Broadway, or maybe you'd have a new one, either way you would be collecting all the awards at every award show because of how fabulous you are. We'd have to convert our spare bedroom in our house to a showcase room, just to have a place to put them all. After awhile, though, we'd decide on a better use for our spare room."

"What could possibly be a better use than a showcase for all my awards," Rachel scoffed, opening her eyes and glaring at me.

"Barbra," I answered with a smirk.

"Barbra Streisand is going to move into our house," she asked, her eyes widening at the thought.

I laughed and shook my head, "No silly, little Barbra or Sheila or Liza or Sandy or whatever."

Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion, "Huh?"

"Our daughter," I shrugged, "I figured you'd name her after a Broadway character or star."

"Daughter," Rachel repeated, chewing on her lip as her fingers dug even further into me, "You want to have kids?"

"One day," I nodded, "With you."

"How would we-," she asked, letting the end of the sentence hang.

"We'd figure that out later," I said, "Maybe find a donor or a good friend. There's ways. I mean if you wanted to."

"Who would be the pregnant one," she whispered.

"You," I answered, "I want our kids to be blessed with your good looks. Plus, I think you'd look really beautiful pregnant."

She blushed as she instinctively removed a hand from my back, staring at it as she pressed it to her stomach, "Let's hope they get their father's nose."

"I like your nose," I said, lightly kissing the tip as I covered the hand on her stomach with my own.

She sucked in a shaky breath, closing her eyes as more tears rolled down her cheeks, "I want that. I want all of that."

"Anytime you feel sad," I whispered, pressing my lips to her ear, "Whenever things go wrong and you feel like your life is falling apart, think of our future. It's not just a story, Rach. It's what we have to look forward to."

"How does it end," she asked as I leaned my head back so I could look her in the eyes again.

"What," I asked, glancing down at our fingers laced together against her stomach and for a moment it all seemed so real. It felt like we were there already, married, expecting and with every aspect of our lives perfect. I'd never wanted anything more in my life.

"The story," she answered, pulling me back from the future, "Every story has an ending, right?"

I smiled and captured her lips with mine as my arms moved to wrap around her waist and hers locked around my neck. Everything about her felt so right and I was more than convinced that she was made just for me. There was no one in the world whose body would fit so flawlessly against mine and I was never going to let anything ever come between us.

I broke the kiss, smiling as her eyes stayed closed even after, and she ran her tongue over her swollen lips, "You'll just have to wait and see."