Finn heard the door open and shut behind him in the back room of the church as he looked into a floor length mirror and struggled to assemble his necktie. With a chorus of murmurs outside in the main hall, he didn't expect to be alone for long. He blinked at the mirror's reflection as Buffy approached behind him. Her blond hair was smooth and glossy in her youthful updo and she was tucked into the same wine red bridesmaids dress that the rest of his and Kurt's female friends from glee club were wearing. Finn had to admit that she was pretty - smokin' hot, actually - but she still kind of freaked him out. Finn found Buffy scarier than Rachel, probably because he knew what she could do. She's been fighting vampires since the age of fifteen, finding herself in situations that Finn only ever had to experience in video games. It was for that same reason he respected her so much.

"I never learned how to tie a tie," Finn chuckled awkwardly.

Buffy smirked. Just like him, Buffy didn't have a dad around. Except in Buffy's case, she grew up with her dad and had him leave. Finn never knew his dad. He wasn't sure which one of them had it worse, but at least Buffy's dad was alive. She tentatively took his tie from him, reached over his shoulders and wrapped it around his collar.

"Excited about your new stepfamily?" she asked, concentrating mostly on his tie.

"I guess so," Finn shrugged, his breaths unsteady, "I mean, it feels a little soon."

Buffy sighed sympathetically. "I can only imagine."

"What?" Finn asked, curiously, as she finished with his tie.

"It's just me and my mom. Us against the world," she rolled her eyes, smirking to herself, "I'll bet that's how it was for you."

Finn grinned nostalgically. "Yeah, it was."

"Well, I can't imagine what it would be like if suddenly I had a new dad and a new brother in the house," Buffy shook her head, "Sure, I'd be happy for my mom. Happy that she's happy. But it'd be hard for me to make room. To know that she doesn't need me as much as she used to."

Finn nodded, looking at Buffy - really looking at her - for what felt like the first time.

"Yeah, exactly..." Finn nodded in agreement.

"So, maybe that's why you've been pulling away from Rachel lately."

Finn furrowed his brow and frowned. "So that's... Did Rachel send you here? To talk to me and find out why I've been, what, ignoring her? I'm not ignoring her, I just-"

"No, Finn, Rachel didn't say anything. I noticed on my own."

Finn turned away and grimaced. He knew Buffy or Tina might figure it out. Buffy and Tina were smart. Rachel was smart, too, but she usually heard what she wanted to hear. Buffy and Tina might hear something about what happened at Santana's Halloween party... Then again, him cheating on Rachel wasn't the most interesting thing that happened that night, so he'd hoped that it would go buried and unheard of. Swept under the rug.

"I know it doesn't seem like I would," said Buffy, "But between slaying and school and cheerleading, I do notice my friends and I notice that she's been trying to get your attention a lot lately, and you're... absent."

Absent was a good way to put it. Finn had been avoiding Rachel like she was the plague and only because whenever he saw her, he heard Santana's forced moans and the feel of her body writhing underneath his in his mind, and he felt as if he had to staple his mouth shut before he sold himself out.

"Yeah, it's just... this wedding," Finn shrugged sheepishly, "I guess I've been so preoccupied with all the new changes, I just haven't been thinking of Rachel enough."

Buffy nodded quietly. "I get it. You're going through some epic change stuff. It's understandable, really. I just want to know that you and Rachel are okay, because she really loves you and I'm sure if you wanted to talk to her about your feelings, she'd love it."

Finn looked back into the mirror. "Thanks, Buffy."

"No problem."

"Hey," said Rachel, walking in the door, her bright eyes darting between her best friend and her boyfriend, "What are you guys doing?"

"Talking about you," said Buffy, "What else?"

Rachel smiled and bashfully rolled her eyes. "I do have that je ne sais quoi that makes people talk," she shrugged.

"I was just leaving," Buffy smiled meaningfully at Finn, and passed Rachel as she left the room.

Finn looked at Rachel, his lips pulled into a stiff line. She looked beautiful in her bridesmaids dress, a glow to her dewy skin and her rich brown hair styled to perfection. Yet, he couldn't feel anything good as he looked at her, but could only see Santana's euphoric face only Halloween night... and, of course, the disgusted face she wore when they were finished. But mainly the euphoric one.

"Aren't you gonna tell me how pretty I look?" she smiled, curtseying in her dress.

Finn stepped right up to her, with a solemn look on his face. "You look amazing," he said, his glassy eyes focused on the orange flower pinned to her hair.

"What?" asked Rachel, looking uncomfortable as her gold necklace saying 'Finn' gleamed against her collarbones.

"I... I just really love you," he said, quietly. He was afraid he'd get choked up by his own guilt and give himself away, but the display of emotion had Rachel looking awed and dramatic.

"I love you, too," she said wholeheartedly.

The wedding was sweet. Buffy thought so, anyways. She thought maybe the JK Wedding Dance-style performance that she and her fellow New Directions did may have been a little cheesy, but the good kind of cheesy. Burt and Carole had been so happy and Finn had serenaded his new stepbrother at the reception. Mr. Schuester had even had a good time singing Sway. It took his mind off Ms. Pillsbury, anyways. And Sam... He'd been sitting there in his tuxedo, looking monumentally handsome, peeking at Buffy when she wasn't peeking at him. She bit her lip as she looked at him, her stomach churning. What was she so afraid of? Sam was safe. Sam was normal. For a girl who spent the past few years claiming to want nothing more than to be normal, she sure was starting to feel like a hypocrite. Sam was her chance at normal. Her one chance. She might as well take it.

She took a seat beside him at one of the round tables in the reception as a couple older guests started assembling a conga line.

"That shiner doesn't look too good," she leaned over and said to him over the music.

He smiled slightly, not really hearing her but looking at her lips. "You look beautiful," he said with his regular gentlemanly manner.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you did for Kurt," said Buffy, "It made a real impact."

"I think the impact that it made was Karofsky's fist impacting my face," he joked lightheartedly.

Buffy smirked. "You're special, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "Not really. Not here."

"You are, Sam. Yeah, I'm the chosen one, and Quinn's a witch and Tina's a genius and Rachel... well, she's Rachel, she invented the word 'special'. But Sam... You're good. Completely, purely good. That's not easy to find these days," Buffy sighed, "I've been talking this whole time and you haven't even noticed that I'm wearing your ring."

Sam's eyes darted to the white gold promise ring on her finger. "How'd you get that?" he smiled giddily.

"I broke into your locker," Buffy shrugged nonchalantly, unable to suppress a smile, "There are no limits to what you can do with a nail file."

Sam smiled widely, looking as if he wanted to throw a Judd Nelson style fist in the air. Instead, he leaned in and kissed his chosen one.

…

"Come on, guys," Will clapped his hands the next day, talking to a dozen of his glee clubbers as they goofed around in the choir room, "The wedding was great, but we have got to get ready for Sectionals."

Maybe he was a little bit of a downer. All of the kids seemed to be in good spirits today. Buffy had excitedly told him that she was now officially Sam's girlfriend. Officially a girl friend of someone, and not a friend who's a girl, is how she put it. He should be more happy for her, but he couldn't stop thinking about what they have to do in terms of training and what to sing at Sectionals and whether Emma would ever stop avoiding him... Again...

Will's attention snapped to the door as Kurt entered, late and looking a little distracted in a paisley shirt, with a maroon cardigan thrown over his shoulders.

"Kurt," he said, turning to the boy, "Good, you're here. I have this amazing idea for a solo for you at Sectionals-"

"Can I make an announcement first?" Kurt asked quietly.

"Yeah," Will shrugged.

Kurt turned to his classmates who looked up at him with contented smiles and mild interest.

"First, I wanted to thank everyone for what you did at my dad's wedding," Kurt smiled, "Especially Finn. It's nice to know that I have great friends here, as well as a true brother... which is why it's so hard for me to leave..."

The class fell silent.

"What do you mean, leave?" frowned Buffy.

"I'm transferring. To Dalton Academy," said Kurt, his eyes red as if he'd already been crying, "Immediately. My parents are using the money they saved up for their honeymoon to pay for the tuition."

"Kurt, you can't leave," Tina shook her head at him.

"What the Hell, dude? How 'bout you talk with me about this first?" Finn said, standing up and looking more offended than anything.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but there's nothing to talk about," Kurt said, his voice wavering a little as he thought about Karofsky meaty fist against his chest and his forceful lips against his own.

"We can protect you," Sam said, determinedly.

"Seriously, we can form a perimeter around you like the secret service," said Puck.

"The only thing that can really protect me is what they have at Dalton," said Kurt, "A zero tolerance no bullying policy. It's enforced."

"Does this mean you're gonna be competing against us at Sectionals?" asked Rachel.

The others ignored her.

"Kurt," Mercedes said softly, standing up.

She didn't have to say anything for Kurt's eyes to well up with tears.

"Sorry," he said lamely, "I have to go."

…

Quinn had left McKinley High in the afternoon and booked it all the way to Dudley Road, still in her Cheerios uniform with her blond hair tied up in an excruciatingly tight ponytail.

"Well, look at you," Jesse smiled coyly as he opened the door to his parents' lavish house, "It's almost shocking how much things have changed since we were friends. The first time."

"We aren't friends now, if that's what you think," Quinn said snidely, only half joking, "I just came from school."

"Well, come on in," he said, opening the door to his front foyer.

Quinn walked in, her backpack slung around her shoulder. The St. James house looked exactly like the dream house Quinn had always wished for as a little girl. A white colonial with big, Greek columns and a tiled front foyer with a grand, sweeping staircase and a chandelier. Looking up at it now, Quinn realized that Mrs. St. James had added a mural of a dozen flying cherubs on the ceiling. It was a bit much for Quinn's taste, but she knew it was something her own mother would love.

Quinn had one question on her mind that she so badly wanted to ask Jesse. This weekend had been his trip to Cleveland to visit Shelby and Beth, and Quinn wanted to know what had happened. How was Beth? What did she look like? Does she look like me? But Quinn had learned by now that the only way to get anything from Jesse was to follow his lead and play into his hand. If he wanted to do this coy, casual dance while he served her coffee and made small talk, so be it. She'd get what she wanted from him at the end of the day.

"My mother is here," said Jesse, taking Quinn's backpack away from her without asking and leaving it in the coat closet under his staircase, "She won't recognise you."

"Your mom is here?" Quinn wrinkled her nose.

She hadn't really been a regular visitor of the St. James' household since before the sixth grade, and while her twelve-year-old memory of Jesse's mom was fuzzy, one thing was for certain: the lady was a bitch.

"Come," Jesse said, and Quinn followed him through his halls lined with photos of luxurious family vacations and competitions won by Jesse and his siblings, until they reached their kitchen where Eleanor Lexington-St. James stood at the island counter and talked aggressively into a Bluetooth headset.

She looked almost exactly like her son. The locks of wispy dark hair and the steely blue eyes. Only Eleanor's hair had a silvery streak running through it. A proud testament of her age. She didn't so much as glance at them as they entered, and Jesse led Quinn to the breakfast nook without a word, two espressos waiting for them on the table.

"Pretend she's not here," he said as he slipped into a seat, "She'll do the same."

"Does she remember me?"

Jesse shrugged and took a sip of his hot coffee. "She probably remembers you when you were Lucy. She wouldn't recognise you now."

That was likely. The last time Quinn had seen Jesse's mother, she'd been seventy pounds heavier and 99% nose.

"So..." said Quinn, not sure if she should jump right to it.

"Jesse!" Eleanor called enthusiastically, making Quinn jump a little.

"Yes, Mother?" Jesse asked irately, setting his coffee back down.

Eleanor walked over to them, smoothing down her black Karl Lagerfeld business dress, keeping her light and piercing eyes on Quinn.

"Don't be rude. Introduce me to your friend," she said.

"Mother, this is Quinn Fabray," said Jesse, "Quinn, you remember my mother?"

"Fabray?" Eleanor raised her eyebrow, "You must be a relative of the family down the road."

Quinn hesitated, and then said, "Distant cousin. By marriage. I just transferred to McKinley High."

"Ah," Eleanor nodded with a penetrating stare, "How do you know Jesse?"

"Lucy introduced us," Quinn smiled falsely as Jesse smirked to himself.

"Lucy Fabray? Jesse, wasn't she a friend of yours back in elementary school?" asked Eleanor, vaguely interested.

Jesse clenched his jaw as if he wanted to say, 'Yes, Mother, my best and only friend throughout childhood, but I wouldn't expect you to remember that'.

"Yes, Mother," he replied.

"Whatever happened to her?"

Jesse raised his eyebrow at Quinn before replying, "We had a falling out, Mother."

"Irreconcilable differences, I think they call it," said Quinn.

"We're cordial now."

"That's one way to put it."

"Well, that's lovely, dear," said Eleanor, now distracted by the Blackberry in her hand, "I've got to run. Rosalie isn't working today but she left a roast in the oven."

Jesse said nothing, but clenched his espresso cup until his knuckles were white as his mother left the room to continue talking into her headset.

"She seems... nicer. Now," said Quinn.

"Don't be fooled," Jesse frowned, "The only reason she isn't being as snide and condescending as she used to be is because she thinks you're my girlfriend."

Quinn frowned. "Why would she think that?"

Jesse shrugged. "I don't have as many beautiful female callers as you would think."

Quinn smirked. "Dry spell for Jesse St. James, huh?"

"No, I just don't tend to introduce women to my mother. She'd scare them away."

"She didn't scare me away," Quinn shrugged.

"She likes you."

"Why would she like me?" Quinn laughed, "She just met me."

"All she needed to see was that you're a beautiful blond cheerleader from a respectable family and with the mental capacity to hold a simple conversation."

"Wow, somehow I thought your mom would have better taste."

"And what kind of girl would you want dating your son?" Jesse asked with a smile.

Quinn looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Someone ambitious. And smart. Someone who would call you out when you're being a douche, but who wouldn't make you feel bad about being you..."

Jesse smiled to himself and took another gleeful sip of his espresso.

"What?" Quinn demanded.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, still smiling widely.

"You introduced Rachel to her," Quinn said abruptly, "I remember her gushing last year about dinner with her 'future in-laws'."

Jesse made a face, halfway between a smirk and a grimace. "Let's not talk about Rachel Berry, please."

"Why did you egg her?" asked Quinn, ignoring him.

Jesse frowned, seriously. "I thought you didn't care about her. She's just another simpleton to you."

"I never said that. I mean, I don't care about her, but I never said she was a... simpleton. Did your mother like her?"

Jesse laughed at her, almost throwing his head back dramatically. "Why is my relations with Rachel Berry so important to you?"

Quinn shrugged. "It's not."

"Good. Now come off it. How was school today?"

Quinn sighed. This was Jesse's ritual, asking her monotonous questions that drove her crazy before they ever got to the point.

"Not terrific," Quinn shrugged, "One of our classmates decided to transfer to Dalton Academy. I mean, it was a good decision for him to make because he was getting bullied, but still. Everyone in glee club is pretty bummed."

To her surprise, Jesse laughed.

"What?" Quinn clenched her jaw.

"I have to admit that it's funny," said Jesse, "Everytime I see how much you've changed from the person you used to be. You never would have cared before about your classmates. You called them trite and frivolous. You were above them."

"Well, guess what, Jesse? I was a little kid who said all that stuff because I didn't fit in. I complained about people because they didn't want to be my friend. But I have friends now."

Jesse shook his head. "No, you don't. Not one of your friends really know - really know - what you are. You're dark and powerful, and at least back when you were Lucy, you knew you were meant for something greater. That's what I loved about you, Quinn."

Quinn sighed and looked out the window, staring at the pruned hedges in Jesse's backyard. "I was a miserable little girl," she said simply.

"Now you're a miserable woman."

Quinn winced, mostly because it was true. "I'll be happy when I have Beth. The only time I was happy was when I had Beth and that was just a moment."

"You think that'll really make you happy? Being a mom? Look at mine. Look at yours. Look at Shelby, for Christ' sake. The only reason she even has Beth is because Rachel wasn't good enough."

Quinn grimaced. "Why are you trying to discourage me all of a sudden? I thought this was what you wanted. To have Shelby to yourself. If you're not going to help me get Beth back, why am I even here?"

Jesse frowned, and stared into his espresso for what felt like a long time. "If you want Beth back, you have to work with me."

"I am-!"

"On your magic, Quinn. You have to be powerful. The only thing that's going to stop Shelby is magic. Fight fire with fire."

Quinn blinked. "You don't mean..."

"We're not going to kill Shelby!" Jesse spluttered, "God, Quinn, morbid much?"

Quinn smirked. "So I'm going to... use mind control?"

"You've done it before, haven't you?"

"On normals. On people who barely use the God given brain power they already had. Not on a witch, an older witch, someone who's clearly more powerful than me! How am I supposed to mentally overpower Shelby?"

Jesse sighed. "That's what we have to work on. Let me train you. Let me teach you what Shelby taught me."

"Why don't you just do it?"

Jesse frowned. "She'd see that coming a mile away. Quinn, she doesn't even know what you look like."

Quinn looked back out at the hedges. "I don't like that."

"Using magic for personal gain? No, that's not something you would ever stoop to."

Quinn glared at him. "I only used mind control to find out where Beth was. And yeah, okay, I've used magic on my body. But I never used magic to take anything I didn't deserve. I got on the Cheerios because I was athletic and get good grades because I worked hard and I'm smart and-"

"And you're fooling yourself if you think your pretty looks haven't gotten you your social status."

Quinn frowned at his smug smile. "My old social status. My new one still has the teen mom stigma tied to it, so people could really care less how pretty and blond I am."

"Why do it, then?"

Quinn shrugged. "I don't want to go back to being Lucy," she said, too quietly, "I like who I am now."

Jesse didn't look like he believed her. "Why?" he asked simply.

"It's not like I can't be better, I just... I like not being mousy and miserable and quiet. I know why you want me to be Lucy."

"Oh?" Jesse humored her.

"Yeah. You want me to be as weak as I used to be."

"You were never weak-"

"I was. Maybe not magically, but emotionally. You could manipulate me to do whatever you wanted when we were kids. I knew, and I let you, because..."

Jesse leaned forward. "Because?"

Quinn frowned back at him, her shoulders tense and she could feel her face getting hot.

"This was a mistake," she said, standing up and smoothing down her Cheerios skirt.

"Quinn," Jesse sighed condescendingly, "Come on."

"No. This is so stupid. We can't work together. It's physically impossible for us to get along anymore," Quinn shook her head, "I should have known when I was kid that you were no good."

Jesse stood up and followed her as she stormed down the hallway and towards the foyer. "You're overreacting," he said simply, "I thought you wanted Beth."

"I'll do it on my own."

Jesse stood there awkwardly and grimaced as she went looking for her backpack in the closet. "Quinn, please. I know we left things bad but I really... We can do this. I can behave and I can train you and you can get Shelby to give you your baby back. Please."

Quinn stared at him as she slipped her backpack over her shoulder, stunned by how genuine he sounded. No patronising smirk or acting as if he was humoring a silly little cheerleader. He looked as if he wanted this to work, he truly did. She wondered if he really could change or if he was just getting better at acting.

"Fine," she said weakly, sounding to herself as if she had been defeated.

xxx

"Do you think Kurt will ever come back?" asked Rachel.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders as the girls shared a spot under a giant oak tree that swayed peacefully in the middle of the Lima cemetery. They were wrapped up in scarves and pea coats, because Lima in mid-Autumn was chilly at night, to say the least.

"Maybe for our senior year," said Buffy, "Hopefully. Honestly, though, as long as Karofsky is still roaming the halls, I don't see it happening."

Rachel gave her puppy eyes and frowned melodramatically. "I'm going to miss fighting for solos with him. He was my only competition."

Buffy silently winced at the slight jab to the rest of their glee club members. "It's not like we won't see him. I mean, he lives with your boyfriend, so I see sleepovers abound in your future."

Rachel smiled warmly to herself. "That's true. Ooh, Buffy, I meant to ask you! Now that you and Sam are officially the second cutest couple in school, I would like to invite the two of you to a double date with me and Finn."

Buffy made a face. "Is that a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Rachel pouted.

"I feel like group outings always end in disaster in this town," says Buffy, "Remember the last time I went on a double date with you?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but you were going on a date with Mike. Clearly you two didn't have any chemistry."

"Yes," Buffy snorted, "That's the disaster I meant. The lack of chemistry. Not the vampire that almost killed him."

"Regardless, you hadn't even gone on the double date then because you'd been bombarded by slayerly duties. Anyways, things were different. Jesse St. James had been my boyfriend."

"Oh, yeah," Buffy frowned, remembering the curly-haired creep, "Isn't he dating Quinn now?"

Rachel frowned and stared out at the rows of gravestones. "I don't really know what's going on regarding Quinn and Jesse."

"It's looks like they're dating to me," Buffy shrugged, "B-But who cares, right? You have Finn and he would never hurt you like Jesse did."

"Right," said Rachel as she leaned her head back against the oak tree, "Of course, it's just... I'm worried Quinn will end up getting hurt."

Buffy nodded. "After everything Quinn's been through, though, I think she can take care of herself."

Rachel nodded until she spotted a figure in the distant graveyard haze. "Who's that?" she whispered, pointing at the dark figure.

"Rachel, don't move," Buffy said in a hushed tone as she stood stealthily, slipping her stake out of the sleeve of her leather jacket.

"You won't be needing that oversized toothpick," Santana said as she came into view, sauntering forward in one of her many skintight dresses.

"Santana," Buffy greeted, pleased to be spared one night of kicking undead ass, "What's up?"

"Buffy, Yentl," Santana nodded to the girls, a smirk on her face, "Nothing. Midnight stroll. Should've stayed home, though, this place is dead. No pun intended."

Rachel stood up and shook the grass off of her thick cable tights. "Hello, Santana," she greeted icily.

"Cheer up, Hobbit," Santana smirked, "They're not taking you to Isengard yet."

Rachel smiled humorlessly. "It's nice that you can still have a sense of humor even though you're spending your last years as a young adult wandering graveyards. Don't you have anything better to do?"

Santana laughed to herself. "If you didn't already get the memo, honey, these are not my last years as a young adult. And no, I don't have anything better to do because I just love talking to your delightful self!"

"Okay," Buffy sighed, "You guys can take off the gloves. We're friends here."

"I got no problem with that, Slayer," Santana shrugged, grinning, "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

Rachel scoffed. "Why are you so happy?"

"I'm not happy," Santana smiled ironically, "Not truly, anyways. Then you'd all get a taste of Evil Santana. I like to call her Snix."

"Yeah, but you are a little more smiley than usual," Buffy agreed with a grin.

"You're seeing someone!" Rachel accused loudly, "Or sleeping with someone. Whatever it is you do. Are you back with Brittany?"

"How do you know about me and Brittany?" Santana shook her head and sighed, "Whatever. No, Brittany and I are not... Brittany and I. I just happen to have a new friend, okay?"

Buffy and Rachel exchanged looks. "It's that guy!" Rachel said, her eyes widening madly, "The handsome stranger!"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Oh my God, the guy who saved Ms. Pillsbury from the Eyghon demon!" Buffy realized, "You're dating the handsome stranger!"

"He is not a... handsome stranger," Santana smirked, "His name is Angel and he's... like me."

"Like you?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, "You mean, evil and skanky?"

Santana smirked and gave Rachel the middle finger, to which Rachel gasped at. "No. I mean, a vampire. With a soul."

"Wow," Buffy sighed, "You guys are a dime a dozen these days."

"Not exactly," Santana shrugged, "He lived in LA until he heard about me from an oracle, so he came all the way to Ohio just to meet someone like him."

"He's from LA?" Buffy raised her eyebrow with a lot of interest, "And you guys are good friends now? You talk?"

Santana nodded. "He's pretty cool once you get past the broodiness and the introspection. He's a lot older than... anyone. He's been through some crazy shit."

"He sounds amazing," Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, well, stay away from him, Slayer," Santana pointed her finger at Buffy, "He's not one of your scooby gang pals. He's not here to help you guys save the day."

"You're awfully territorial," pouted Rachel.

"Yeah, well, he's my friend, Warwick, so stay away."

"People don't usually get so jealous about their friends," said Rachel, "Are you sure you have purely platonic relationships?"

Santana snickered. "Berry, listen to me loud and clear. I. Am. Gay. As in, all about the vajay. Now, I'm not saying I never get attracted to guys. Sex with guys in fine by me because sex is sex. But if I ever were to..." Santana paused as if the word 'love' were on the tip of her tongue, "Date someone, it would be a chick. So yeah, Angel and I are just friends. Not even friends with benefits, because that would be weird. I mean, he's older than my dad. He's older than everyone's dads."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Not what I meant."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Some girls... When they can't be with the person they really love or when their romantic feelings aren't reciprocated, they turn to a guy friend or a friend who reminds them of what they're missing in a romantic relationship. Like a-"

"Like a substitute?"

"Well, yes."

"You think I'm substituting a real girlfriend for Angel. Because I can't be with Brittany?"

"Well... yes."

Santana raised an eyebrow at Buffy as if asking her to please remove this freakshow. Santana just laughed venomously. "Since when were you some kind of love guru?" she laughed mockingly, "Have you even made it to third base, Berry? Second? First?"

Rachel blushed. "I'm observant and in touch with my feelings, a-and paired with my intuition, I make for a very good judge of relationships-"

"Slayer, shut her up," Santana shook her head.

"It's a perfectly sound theory, Santana!" Rachel persisted, "You fool yourself into thinking that you're actually happy with the relationship you have and-"

"Rachel, stop," Buffy shook her head quietly.

"No, I'm trying to help," Rachel pleaded.

"Like Hell you are," said Santana, half laughing, "You're just trying to condescend people and prove that you're better than everyone because you think you know how I feel better than I do. I mean, what is wrong with you? Why can't you just shut your mouth? You have to blow everything out of proportion until people are screaming at you to get you to shut the Hell up! What would you know about me? Or about Angel, or about my relationship with Brittany, for that matter? You don't know anything! You don't know anything about love or-"

"How can you say I don't know anything about love?!" Rachel demanded.

At this point, Buffy had thrown up her hands and walked away, waiting by the oak tree, because as much as she wanted to leave right now, she couldn't abandon Rachel in a graveyard at night. Even the vampire with the soul wanted to kill her.

"Because you're an idiot child," Santana sneered.

"Child? I'm just as old as you are, Santana Lopez! And I have experience! Love experience! With my boyfriend, who is a good guy and he loves me and I know what a healthy relationship should look like!"

Santana stared back at her, her eyes wide and her face frozen somewhere between childish glee and blind rage.

"Healthy relationship?" It came out as a hoarse whisper. "Well, that's fucking hilarious."

Rachel winced. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, half expecting a joke about Rachel having to use a stepladder to kiss Finn.

Something to do with her being short. Which isn't even fair because she's only one inch shorter than Buffy and two inches shorter than Tina and even Santana isn't that much taller than her. Maybe three inches.

"No, I'm just happy to hear about your healthy healthy relationship with Finnocence," Santana smirked, "How is he, by the way? Tell him I said hi. A-And tell him I said thank you. For Halloween."

Rachel glares at Santana, her eyes darting around with confusion and shock and embarrassment.

"What... What is that supposed to mean?" Rachel asked, too quietly.

"Ask your boyfriend," Santana frowned, "He's such a good guy, he'll tell you the truth."

xxx

a/n: This chapter was a lot less action and a lot more talking and fighting and oh the emotions, but I hope you all like it and review anyway! :)