"So, do you remember what it was like?"

"Being brainwashed?"

"Yeah. Was it like being possessed?"

"What do you know about being possessed?"

"I've read that it's like being stuck inside your body, watching while someone else controls it."

Buffy smirked. Blaine had a lot of questions about the Hellmouth and now he had started to ask about their most recent predicament; the Christ Crusaders.

"I don't think I've ever been possessed..." Buffy mused, leaning back in her chair and wrapping her hand around a warm coffee cup, "I mean, there was Halloween, but that was different, right?"

"Right. Yeah. It was like we became different people."

"You were the Phantom, right?"

"Uh huh," Blaine nodded, "I just spent the whole night in Santana's basement."

Buffy snorted. "Yeah, well... It was kind of like that. Like you were you, but someone else."

Blaine's eyebrow quirked up. "Is there some more articulate way to phrase that? For my journals?"

"Blaine," Buffy sighed, "I'm not so good for the interviews, okay? I mean, you're better off talking to Rachel or Tina about the details. If you asked me to describe the Hellmouth I'd probably tell you that it was Hellmouth-y."

"Yeah, I guess," Blaine chuckled, "So, I guess it's cool that we're doing this."

"Yeah. I hardly ever have time to get coffee with friends."

Blaine smirked slightly at his latte. "I've got to be honest. I didn't really think we were friends."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Well, normally when I make friends, it's not by stalking them in graveyards until they attack me."

"Really? How else do people make friends?"

"I'm not saying I'm not glad that you consider me your friend, I'm just... well, I was surprised when you called me. I didn't think I'd be your first choice."

Buffy bit her lip and looked guiltily and the surface of their table at The Lima Bean. "Well, actually, I wanted us to go to coffee today because I have to talk you about something I don't think I could talk about with anyone else."

Blaine looked both confused and interested. "Is it Kurt?"

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with Kurt. It's me. Something happened when I was brainwashed."

"Something you remember?"

"Yeah..." Buffy trailed off, staring into her coffee for a few long moments.

Blaine looked imploringly at Buffy. Her expression was unreadable and she looked like she was heavy with thoughts. He didn't want to disturb her from her sudden introspection so he silently watched her hands tap against the tabletop.

"You have to promise this stays between us," she finally said.

Blaine's brown eyes widened. A secret? Between him and the slayer?

"I... Yeah, of course. What is it?"

Buffy sighed and folded her denim-clad legs, looking serious.

"When I was brainwashed Santana came to visit me at my house."

Blaine brow furrowed at the mention of Buffy's soulful vampire friend. Since Blaine had met her he'd had a million questions about the undead girl and her acquired soul, but he'd known enough to gather that Santana was off the table.

"Okay," Blaine replied.

"She, um... she told me that she loved me."

Blaine's eyes widened even more. He looked back down at the grass. "Wow..."

"Yeah. And she said it in... in a really lovely way. Way better than I would have because I'm not so good with the words. But it was like she really did love me. Like, different from the way Sam loves me."

Blaine squirmed a little. Girl talk was not something he'd ever gotten used to, going to an all boys boarding school.

"Are you sure she didn't mean it in a friend way?" he asked.

Buffy pursed her lips. "I thought, maybe, but then I realized. Even if she hadn't said the words I love you, I still would have known. No-one gets to see that side of Santana. No-one. Hell, the only reason she said it was because she knew I was brainwashed. She probably didn't count on me remembering."

"Buffy... I'm not sure I'm the person you should be talking about this to. I have an older brother and a bunch of guy friends and even though I'm not the manliest of men, I don't exactly know how to talk like one of the girls. What about your friends at McKinley?"

"Well, I can't talk to Tina or Kurt because they left on that road trip to Cleveland, which, by the way, don't ask me about because I don't know. And I can't talk to Rachel because she hates Santana. It's bad enough that Santana is my friend but if she thought of Santana and I together she'd flip. Obviously I can't talk to Sam. Come on, it's not that hard. Your guy friends must talk about girls. Occasionally?"

"Not to me. I'm not really an expert in that department. In any capacity whatsoever."

"You can make a Powerpoint presentation telling me why I should let you come patrolling with me but you can't find a single reply to my news? Dude, Santana loves me. I don't know what to do!"

"Well, do you... How do you feel about Santana?"

Buffy bit her lip. "I don't know... Confused? That counts as a feeling, right?"

"Sure."

"Excited, kind of. I mean, Santana has always... excited me. She's cool and confident and mysterious and one with darkness and she's Santana. And she loves me. God, I cannot get over that."

"Are you attracted to her?"

"I... God, Blaine, I don't know!"

"Sorry!" Blaine raised his hands, "I just think it's an important factor in the decision you're going to have to make."

"What decision?!" Buffy asked, panicky.

"Well, aren't you going to have to eventually decide between Santana and Sam?"

Buffy frowned sadly. "Do I haf-tuh?"

"Buffy..."

Buffy sighed and slumped in her seat. "I know... It's just really confusing. I mean, I like boys, I really do. I mean, Daniel Craig? Can I get a 'dee-licious'?"

"I'm more of a Pierce Brosnan kind of guy."

"Of course you are."

"Maybe with you and Santana it's a little bit more complicated than that. You like boys, sure, but maybe Santana is your exception. Maybe there's a part of you open to all kinds of love. Boy or girl. Dead or alive."

"No jokes right now, Brosnan!"

"Sorry. But you know what I mean. Maybe there's a part of you that feels the same way Santana does."

Buffy groaned. "And what about Sam?"

"Well, how do you feel about Sam?"

"I like him. I do! And he loves me and he's a good boyfriend and he's very cute..."

"But?"

"But... sometimes he feels a little bit more like a fan than an equal. Like, in his eyes I'm Buffy, the vampire slayer. But to Santana, I'm Buffy Summers. I'm a slayer and a friend and a daughter and a girl. She just really sees me."

"Clearly you have a choice to make."

"I just don't want to hurt anybody."

Blaine pursed his lips, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Either way, someone's going to get hurt."

Buffy sighed. "You're right."

"Might I suggest-"

"Do not tell me to make a list of pros and cons."

"Nevermind then. So... What's up with those FBI guys, huh?"

Buffy closed her eyes. "Stop asking me hard questions."

xxx

Quinn crept upstairs. Since last week she'd barely been able to get over her crippling anxiety. She was practically a ghost in the school hallways and in her own home, slipping in and out of her room in silence. She was avoiding Rachel, which was difficult since they had so many classes together, not including glee club. She didn't know why she was trying so hard to escape Rachel's attention. As far as Rachel knew, things were just as they had always been.

And maybe they were. Maybe Quinn was just being weird and confusing herself. Maybe what she said to Santana... how she had admitted... She couldn't even think about it without blushing in embarrassment. Rachel Berry? It was almost unspeakable. And yet when Quinn lay awake at night feeling empty, her thoughts always lead back to way the hem of Rachel's skirt met the top of her argyle socks and the way her softly brushed strawberry-scented hair felt. In the recesses of her mind, Quinn always knew she had a thing - an... attraction - for Rachel but the more rational part of her wanted to strangle that part.

It wasn't just the gayness of it all, because Quinn could get over that. She could get over stupid bullies like Karofsky and had no fear of being excommunicated from the church. Her mother's God wasn't her God anymore. Now she had the gods and goddesses that Jesse has shown her, like Hermes and Aphrodite and Hecate, and what is Greek mythology if not super gay? She wouldn't mind being a lesbian if that's what she knew she was. The problem was that she did not, in fact, know what she was. She was just confused. She'd never done anything with a girl before, but then again she'd never done much with boys.

The one time she had sex with Puck she had been drunk on Wine Coolers. She hadn't even enjoyed it. She hadn't even kissed him. When she kissed him in the bathroom stall last week she had only been trying to prove herself wrong. And partly to quell the warmth and the rush she had felt when Rachel had hugged her and she'd felt the small of her back and her hair against her cheek. A part of Quinn could come to terms with the fact that she liked Rachel but the rest of her was quite intolerant. She had to figure herself out first before she ever threw herself into something that was so foreign to her.

"Santana?" Quinn called quietly as she rapped her knuckles against Santana's bedroom door.

She had also been avoiding Santana for the past week, which proved to be much easier than she imagined. Their sleeping schedules were already exactly opposite, so when she was getting ready in the mornings, Santana was usually falling into a deep sleep. Quinn hoped that this morning, she wasn't sleeping too deeply yet.

"San?"

Quinn pushed the door open, Santana's bedroom curtains closed and blocking out every ray of sunlight. She spotted the human-or-otherwise-sized lump under the dark bedsheets and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Santana let out a soft snore.

"Santana," said Quinn, pushing the vampire's leg.

Santana stirred and turned over, her eyes still shut tight. "Five more minutes."

"I need to talk to you."

Santana groaned and pulled the bedcovers away from her face, blinking sleepily. "What do you want? What time is it?"

"Seven thirty."

"Dude. I just got to sleep. And shouldn't you be going to school to sing some ridiculous Fleetwood Mac cover rather than bothering me? This is supposed to be my sleep of the undead. Don't disturb it."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Can I just talk to you for a second? I've barely seen you all week."

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that?" Santana groaned and buried her head in her pillow.

"Fine. Yes, I've been avoiding you since last week. But you should know why. I was embarrassed."

"I would be embarrassed too if I were wearing an olive green sweater set I bought at a Sears back-to-school sale."

"Stop it. You of all people should know how I feel. I mean, I'm not saying what we're going through is the same, but it must be hard for you. Liking Buffy."

Santana bolted up in bed, looking younger than usual without her makeup or her skimpy nightwear. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes were as wide as saucepans.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Last week... You came to me and you told me that you liked Buffy. I mean, I was brainwashed when you told me, but I still remember-"

"You remember? You remember being brainwashed? Quinn!" Santana shrieked.

Quinn placed her hands on her hips and twisted around on the bed to look at Santana. "What?" she asked, one of her eyebrows quirking up, "You told me. And I told you that... that I liked Rachel, but Santana you need to know that I'm confused and I don't necessarily-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Santana waved her away, hopping out of bed in her mint green pyjamas, "You like Berry. What's new? That's not important right now! If you remember being brainwashed then so does Buffy."

"So?"

"So..." Santana bit down hard on her lip, "I told her that I lo... I told her. How I feel."

"Oh..." Quinn knitted her brow and looked at the carpet, "What did she say?"

"Well, she was brainwashed, Quinn! She was all 'Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve'. I haven't seen her since then. Now I know why."

"Maybe this isn't a bad thing. She knows how you feel now. All you have to do is wait for her to reciprocate."

"And what if she never does?! She has a boyfriend! Why would she give up being happy to be with me?"

Quinn pursed her lips. "Boyfriend doesn't always equal happy."

"Yeah, well, girlfriend to an undead parasite equals happy how much?"

Quinn sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't invite her, then."

"Invite her to what?"

"Oh... That's actually what I had to come up here to talk to you about. When I went downstairs this morning, Sofia was baking."

"Sofia? In the kitchen? Unheard of," Santana said sarcastically.

Quinn frowned. "Baking a cake, Santana. A birthday cake."

Santana's eyes widened in fear once again. "Oh, God, no. Is it really that time of year again?"

"Afraid so. I tried to tell her you hate surprises but she's pretty set on throwing you a surprise party."

"With who? In case you guys haven't noticed, I haven't exactly been social lately."

"I tried to plead your case, I did, but... She's trying really hard to be a part of your life. She feels ignored. You two never really talked about her being your mother-"

"What am I supposed to say?! It's cool that you're my real mom but unfortunately I'm not a kid anymore. I'm a blood sucking demon of the night and I'd really rather skip this whole birthday thing."

"Could you just do this for her?"

"Ugh," Santana sulked, "I can't believe you're taking her side."

"I just want what's best for you," Quinn shrugged.

"Yeah, right. The only reason you want me to have a party is because you want a distraction from the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know. The other reason people get festive on February 14th."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "So I'd rather celebrate my little sister's-"

"-Big sister!"

"-Little sister's birthday, than buy into some stupid, made-up holiday that mixes pink and red, which are too colors that clash horrendously."

"Right. That's your problem with Valentine's Day. The color co-ordination. It has nothing to do with the fact that the honey you're really into is a cable-knit-tight-wearing, showtunes-listening-to, vegan-meatball-eating show choir enthusiast who is not invited to this party, by the way, unless you want to bring her as your date, that is."

"So I should invite people to this party?"

"Don't change the subject."

"You were the one changing the subject. Who should I invite? Angel, obviously. I was thinking I'd bring Jesse just to add to the numbers."

"Then the number will be a resounding five because I don't want anyone else there."

"Stop being like that. This party is happening. I was just trying to give you an early warning. Should I invite Buffy?"

"Do not invite Buffy!"

"But maybe she likes you back, Santana. Maybe you don't have to be miserable all the time. Maybe putting yourself out there doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"Yeah, and maybe you should take your own advice."

Quinn blushed. "That's different."

"How?"

"Because I don't even know... I don't understand-"

"You're not supposed to understand. These things just happen. One minute you're falling asleep to the sound of Tyra Banks shrieking on your TV screen and the next thing you know, you're fantasizing about a blond cheerleader - and not the one you normally fantasize about. My point is, love has a tendency to slap you in the face when you're not looking and it latches on like a sticky motherfucker. Once you fall in love, it can be a bitch to fall back out."

xxx

Rachel saw it the second she turned the corner. That big, red and pink, glittery, garish kiosk made from scrap wood panels at the end of the hall. The big one that had 'Kissing Booth: 1 Kiss = $1' crudely written on it in marker like some sort of lemonade stand. The one that Finn was standing behind. You can't miss it.

She unloaded her books into her locker, pretending not to see it but she was silently fuming inside. She just knew he'd set up his stupid booth down the hall from her locker on purpose. He wanted her to see him smooching with every girl in school. She wasn't sure if he was trying to make her jealous or just trying to make her feel bad about herself, but part of her felt a little bit of both and part of her felt absolutely embarrassed for him.

"Can you believe that?!" Rachel snapped, enraged, as Buffy headed towards her, a Lima Bean coffee in her hand.

"Kissing booth?" Buffy wrinkled her nose, "Can you say mono?"

"He's just flaunting it in my face like I would have no control over my feelings but to go over there and buy a single kiss. Just how pathetic does he think I am?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Finn in the distance and shook her head, joining in with the indignation. "Look at him. Whoring himself out for singles. Mouth prostitute."

Rachel sighed heavily. "As if Valentine's Day wasn't going to be hard enough. He has to go out of his way to remind me that he's the most popular guy in school and I'm just the annoying Jewish girl."

"Just the annoying Jewish girl? You're not just anything, Rachel. You're the smartest, most talented annoying Jewish girl I've ever-... Wait, no, that's not what I meant-"

"Thanks for trying Buffy but I wasn't looking for appraisal. I was more going for 'help me complain about my ex'."

"Right."

"I just can't believe I ever loved him. I mean, I can, because he's popular and handsome and even though he has faults - big faults - he's still a good person. I just can't believe I lost myself so much. I can't believe a boy like him kept me awake at night."

"Buffy?"

The girls turned around the see Quinn awkwardly standing nearby, one hand on her soft leather satchel.

"Hi, Quinn," Rachel smiled brightly.

"Oh, uh, hi, Rachel..." Quinn trailed off shyly, "Listen, Buffy, I don't know if you're interested, but we're throwing a surprise party for Santana's birthday, so, maybe you'd like to come."

Buffy's cheeks immediately went red. "Oh, um, I don't know... Maybe..."

"I mean, you don't have to," Quinn shrugged, "But I know she'd want you there."

Buffy nodded, looking somewhat pleased. "Yeah. I'll go. Of course I'll go."

"Great..." Quinn smiled, her eyes lingering on Rachel, "Um, if you want to come-"

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel shrugged, "You don't have to invite me. Santana and I aren't friends and I don't mind keeping it that way."

Quinn's eyelids fluttered and she looked at the floor. "Yeah..." she said, barely audible.

"When is it?" asked Buffy.

"The fourteenth."

"Valentine's Day?" Rachel wrinkled her nose, "Buffy, won't you have plans? With Sam?"

"Oh, Sam..." Buffy trailed off looking disappointed just as a tall blond boy walked past.

"Go ahead, make my day," he said in a gravelly voice.

"...What?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Clint Eastwood. Sudden Impact."

"Oh. Listen, Sam, were you planning anything for Valentine's Day?"

"Marvel marathon. Obviously," he smirked.

"Great. We're gonna go to Santana's surprise party, okay?"

"Oh. Well, okay," shrugged Sam, glancing between the girls.

"Buffy, why aren't you wearing your Cheerios uniform?" Quinn suddenly asked, looking the girl up and down.

"Oh, I quit," Buffy replied, "I figured since you weren't on the squad anymore then what was the point?"

Quinn furrowed her brow and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Buffy trailed off, looking taken aback, "Well, that's why I joined the Cheerios. Because... well, so that they would let you join."

Quinn had an unimpressed frown on her face. "And why would you do that?"

"Because... well, cause..."

"Buffy?"

"Because Puck made me," she said, "He thought your mental well being depended on it."

"My mental well being?" Quinn asked through gritted teeth.

"I mean, you're happiness..." Buffy stammered.

"I'm sure Noah was just looking after you in a brotherly way-" Rachel started.

"Thank you, Rachel," Quinn raised her hand, "But I don't need anyone taking care of me. Where is he?!"

Sam turned and pointed down the hall. The others looked to see Puck taking up another spot behind the kissing booth. Quinn stormed down the hall in her vintage ankle boots and aggressively shoved Morgan Ru out of the way to slam her hand down on the surface of the booth, glaring at Noah Puckerman.

"What's your deal?" he asked in surprise, glancing at Morgan with mild concern.

"So that's how you got me back on the Cheerios? Buffy?"

Puck scowled. "Well, yeah. What do you care? You wanted in so I got you in."

"They didn't want me at all! The only reason they let me on was because they wanted her!"

"Duh, Quinn. And what does it matter. You quit. It's over. Who cares?"

"I care!"

Finn leaned over from his side of the booth, looking irritated. "Guys, you're kind of ruining business-"

"And you," Quinn scowled, "A kissing booth? Right in front of Rachel's locker? Why can't you just let her move on? She deserves someone better."

"Better than what?" Finn frowned, "You're such a hypocrite. You cheated, too."

"And you know what? When I cheated on you, I let you move on with your life. I didn't keep trying to win you back! Thank God!"

Puck weaved around the kissing booth and clasped Quinn's wrist, pulling her away and around the corner.

"Okay. Quit it," he said, letting go of her, "You're not mad at me or Finn. You're just mad for the sake of being mad. What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," Quinn sulked, "I have a right to be mad."

"I have the right to be mad."

"Why should you be mad?"

"Why should I be mad? Listen, Quinn, I know how douchey it sounds when guys complain about being friend-zoned. Rachel gave me the whole feminist speech a couple weeks ago in free period. When I do stuff for you, I don't expect some sort of sexual reward. I'm happy just being buds. Really, I am. What I'm not happy with is being your friend and then having you ignore me until one day you feel like making out in the girl's bathroom. Either I'm your friend or your sex buddy or I'm nothing, but don't make me all three."

Quinn pursed her lips and blushed, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of shame and embarrassment. "I... I'm sorry, Puck, I've just been-"

"A lunatic? I know," Puck shrugged, "I just can't sit back and enable it anymore."

Quinn opened her mouth and closed it again. "Have you been thinking about saying that for a while now?"

"Yeah. I got Rachel to help me with the vocabulary but I forgot most of it."

Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm a self-obsessed bitch."

"Kind of."

"I'm so sorry, Puck. God, you must hate me."

"I don't hate you. I wish I could hate you."

"Well, I hate me."

"I know," frowned Puck, "I think that's your problem."

Quinn's eyes trailed over Puck's earnest face. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

Puck smirked. "Q, tomorrow's Valentine's Day. I already have four dates."

"Right," Quinn smiled, "Of course."

"Unless you've got a better idea."

"No, just, um... Santana's back in town for a while for her birthday, so we're throwing her a surprise party-"

"I'll be there."

"A-Are you sure? It's just a small thing. It's not exactly four hot dates."

"Only three of them are hot. One of 'em's pretty gap-toothed. Actually, even she's pretty hot. Whatever. Lopez's birthday. I'll be there."

xxx

"I can't believe Buffy told you."

"Of course she told me," said Tina, her head rested against the cool passenger's seat window of Kurt's car, "I'm one of her best friends. She even told me about your premonitions. What I didn't know was that my mother knew a slayer. My mom. She paints and sells moonstone jewelry and reads my aura every morning. I didn't think she was... I don't know. Cool."

Kurt smirked as he read the green Cleveland road signs. "Her house should be close. 84th street."

Tina looked at the excitement building on Kurt's face and felt a little anxious. "Kurt? What are you expecting here?"

"Mrs. Schuester can tell me how my mom died."

"Why is it so important to you?"

Kurt glanced at Tina, his brow creasing slightly. "It's my mom, Tina."

"No, I know, but... What if this doesn't make you feel better? What if you keep searching for information and you never feel like any of it's enough?"

Kurt bristled. "Of course it won't be enough. No amount of information about my mom will ever be enough, but... it's all I have."

"What are you going to say to her?"

"I don't know. Either way, she's probably in for a shock."

Tina nodded quietly as they pulled up to a white wooden house with a porch that would have looked nice if it had been taken care of. There was no light coming from the inside and it had an air of abandonment.

"She lives her?" Tina asked doubtfully.

"Your mom gave me the address. She's the only one who has it. Besides Mr. Schue, probably," said Kurt, "Come on."

They left the car parked on the sidewalk and walked up the front lawn, past the tufts of weeds and dry grass that stuck out from under the porch. Kurt rang the doorbell and heard the faint sound of it ringing from the inside. Several long moments passed as they waited for the door to open but nothing happened. Kurt rang the doorbell again, starting to look worried.

"I don't think anyone's here," Tina said, her eyebrows knitted together.

"She has to be here," grumbled Kurt.

"Maybe she moved. Or maybe she'll be back later."

Kurt rang the doorbell a consecutive ten times, irritation apparent on his face as he stabbed at the button. The front door swung open, leaving Kurt and Tina separated by a thin screen door from a stout woman with a bob of gray hair, her face mostly obscured by the wire in front of her.

She narrowed her eyes at the two of them. "What are you...? ...Kid?"

"Sorry to bother you," said Kurt, looking nervous, "Um, I'm-"

"Kid," she said drowsily, "Her kid."

"What?"

"Uh..." she looked down for a moment before looking back at Kurt's face, "Kurt. Kurt Hummel. You're her son."

Thank you for reading :) I really look forward to hearing what you guys think about where the story's going.