Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. I do, however, own the amazing Maria Arioso.

A/N: Thank you for all the support you guys. You really helped me through a rough week, and it was so lovely to have people to lean back on. Here's the next chapter of the story, as my thanks. It's not going to be all angsty this time (because Maria's here and after today's episode, I can't take anymore sadness). The song our lovely Maria will sing is Out Tonight from Rent. Thanks to Lexi-Nicole21, Music and Reading Lover, amz152, DAgron01, shoestring potato, 98forever, tears of the soul, ScorpioP, Willowfan: Thank you so much, we all miss him. He was really a sweetheart., razberry1, StayWithMeForTheKids, justpassingby, Buffy-Obssessed, 73amy37, Athyna DaughterofPoseidon, WittyNinja, HighwayMagickUnicorn: Thank you so much. Your support really means something, suckmypiercing, Princesakarlita411, jacketweather, smartblonde317, maxgirl452, Musicfutbolfan6, pezberry2smith, Elle, faberrydragon, Cassi3, Nightlancer600: Thank you for your condolences. We all loved him very much., redashford, BleachedBlondeDork, KW Jordan: *Hugs back* Thank you, w1cked, clenche: He was a real sweetheart. Thank you for your support, AleatoirePerson, BabyTigerVampire, LyricalHarmony53, Achelette, sarasunnyshine, ch3lsk0: Thank you, I'm glad you like her =), AbstractRainbow, thatissodawn, iamirreplazable, karlymorrig, aquarius127, QwertyDevil, freaky-icefairy, ths3836, auntie-tana-lopez: Thank you so much for your wishes., Alerted, Shiori Kaiou: Thank you for your wishes. I feel better already,FeelingGrey, Liona Vamp, (person who didn't leave review name), and d80p for all their support. Leave a review if you can, because I'd love to hear what you think.

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Chapter 12: Here to Help

Rachel's jaw nearly dropped.

This all had to be some sort of sick joke. There could be no plausible explanation for her best friend's presence.

Maria wasn't standing in front of New Directions wearing that smug, self-satisfied, shit-eating smirk that sent Rachel's fight-or-flight instinct aflame.

She didn't have that sparkling, mischievous look in her bright blue eyes that made every freaking person in Rachel's old school (especially Rachel's moronic ex-boyfriends) cower in fear.

Maria Arioso could not be standing in the choir room of McKinley High School in Hicksville, Ohio, in all her pierced, sarcastic glory.

It had to be a dream. A delusion. An apparition made to fool. Rachel swallowed thickly as brown orbs widened in realization. She hadn't fallen asleep during one of Mr. Schue's boring Spanish lectures again, had she?

The dull bite of nails making crescent shaped marks into her arm and the dryness in her throat seemed to contradict Rachel's thoughts.

Because no matter how much she blinked or tried to shake herself from whatever daze she thought she'd been in, Maria still stood before her, as vivid and real as the moment they'd said goodbye.

Rachel swallowed heavily, breathing in shakily before she spoke. "…Maria?"

A pierced lip lifted in a crooked grin, exposing a flash of pearly white teeth. "Hey there, smurf. I'd say I missed ya, but I just saw your sorry face last night on Facetime."

Rachel could feel the curious gazes of each member of New Directions burning into her as she responded. "How… how are you…?"

"Here?" the Irish girl waved a heavily ringed hand in dismissal. "Logistics and all that shit. We'll talk about it later, smurfity smurf. You know, after I meet all your lovely newfriends."

"It'd be nice for you to start with who the hellz you are," a voice sounded out from the back of the risers.

Santana, dark eyes burning, squared her shoulders as she took in the stranger standing before the Glee Club. Her lips curled in a feral snarl, intense gaze saturated with a healthy dose of distaste.

Any sane person would turn the other direction at the glare on Santana's face. The losers of McKinley (and every male in the general vicinity) had been on the receiving end of the smoldering glare numerous times over the last two years of their lives.

Santana Lopez was not a woman to trifle with. You got out of the way and kowtowed to her every demand or found yourself flattened as punishment.

While Rachel herself had never been on the receiving end on one of those destructive looks, she'd witnessed the fate of Santana's victims many times earlier in the year.

Needless to say, Rachel never desired to be one of Santana's few enemies.

Maria, however, remained unmoved by the force of Santana's distain.

The corners of her smug grin merely intensified as a single, ginger brow rose in somewhat amusement.

"Whoa, down girl," an entertained sparkle entered spirited blue. "Friend. I. Come. In. Peace. I'm here to help." The words rolled slowly off Maria's tongue as she lifted her hands mockingly.

Several sets of eyes widened in terror as Santana's face darkened.

"You did not just address me like a mentally challenged dumbass."

Maria shrugged. "Sure. If that's how you interpreted it."

The Latina growled. "You better take that back, ginger."

Maria smirked. "Oohhh, a rabid cheerleader. I'm quaking in my goddamned boots. I might just be able to get some entertainment out of you New Infections after all."

The Italian crossed her arms. "Although… if you're all like this little shorty here… I'd seriously reconsider attending Sectionals. She looks like she wants to shank me for breathing."

"I want to shank you for multiple reasons, pendeja," Santana stood up, starting down the risers, eyes flashing. "Why don't you just turn your pretty little ass around and get the Hell out of the room. The emo convention is in the other direction."

"My 'pretty little ass?'" An eyebrow rose. "Been checking it out, shorty? Sorry, but I don't date bitchy, short-tempered, ugly delinquents. I date up, not down."

"Ugly?" A vein twitched in Santana's neck. She lunged forward, hands poised for a choke before the whole of the Glee Club held back the furious Latina. "Fea? No me lo puedo creer! Voy a matarte, hija de puta!

"Venga," Maria laughed, goading the Latina. "Venga aquí, chica baja. Tu no puedes matarme."

"Maria, stop it!" Rachel hissed.

"These morons need a little fire in their belly, Rach," Pale hands slid into the pockets of dark-washed jeans, tight fitting jeans. "They need to stop being such fucking robots. If it means making shorty here a little mad, then I'm willing to make myself a goddamned sacrifice."

Blue eyes slid back to a furious Santana. She stood panting amidst the net of arms keeping her from strangling the unwelcome visitor to death.

"My name's Maria Arioso," the Italian stated, staring the Latina down with a wry little smirk on her lips. "I'm one of Rachel's friends from before she decided to grace your pathetic school here in Hicksville, Ohio with her dazzling presence."

"Rach sent me a sad video of some idiots stumbling up and down risers singing some Journey karaoke a few weeks ago," the chains hanging from the girl's pockets jingled as the girl advanced toward the center of the room. "I heard every deceased show choir director across the whole of the world turn over in their graves."

"I can't have smurf's prestigious singing career in danger because some sad show choir decided to do the hokey pokey to Spring Awakening on stage," Maria smirked. "I'm here to help you. If you want to win, you'll take what I give you."

"What makes you think we want your help, ass?" Santana growled, fighting against the net of arms once more.

"Because I'm a proven winner," the Italian offered, shrugging her shoulders. "That 'Don't Rain on My Parade' choreography the smurf performed was mine. The choreography for The Bitch of Living? It's mine. I've won competitions, my routines have gotten standing ovations at Carnegie Hall… I'd say I'm more than qualified to make winning decisions."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You, on the other hand, shorty…"

"Screw you," Santana hissed furiously.

"Is that an offer?" Maria inquired cheekily.

"Mr. Schue, throw her ass out of here," the cheerleader turned her fiery gaze upon the bewildered teacher. "We don't need some poser to tell us what to do. We can win Sectionals on our own terms."

"No we won't."

Rachel shook her head as the rest of the group looked upon her in confusion. She stood from her place in the risers, slowly stepping forward. "We won't win. Not without Maria's help."

"Berry, we already have you leading the charge. We don't need," Santana turned her burning glare back upon an amused Maria, "this Emo asshole telling us what to do."

"I can't inspire all of you to work harder, though," Rachel replied, shaking her head. "I can't bring us any closer to winning… Not without Maria's help."

"She's whipped me into gear more than once. She got me ready for that Don't Rain on My Parade performance in a day," chocolate orbs met steady, gentle blue with easy familiarity. "Maria's a miracle worker. If she works with Brittany on choreography and in conjunction with me on vocals, we'll have a definite chance at winning."

"How do we know that she's as good as you say she is?" Mercedes interjected.

Rachel rolled her eyes. Right on cue.

"In Chamber Singers, Maria was one of the best vocalists," Rachel responded. God, please let them take her words at face value just this once…

"Vocals?" Santana questioned, brow lifting. "It… sings?"

The Irish girl scowled. "Of course I can sing. I wouldn't be in goddamned Chamber Singers if I couldn't sing, shorty-bitch."

"I want some proof, Red," Santana stepped forward, pointing. "I call your bluff. If you back out, we don't have to believe you or accept your help."

"I shouldn't have to prove myself to a ring of idiots," Maria scoffed. "I'm the real deal, either you take my-."

"M," Rachel's voice broke in sternly.

Red-tinged brown met stormy blue for a split second. An intense, almost searing connection formed as the two friends debated silently.

Maria's shoulders slumped in resignation, huffing stubbornly as she crossed her arms defiantly. "Fine. You say jump, I'll ask how high. All of you sit your asses down and prepare to be amazed."

Mr. Schue jumped as the girl's gaze fell upon him. "If it's alright with you, Mr. director singer man…?"

"O-oh," the teacher stammered nervously. "It's more than alright. The floor is yours, Miss Arioso."

"It's Maria, teach," she winked, setting Mr. Schue's cheeks aflame.

A heavily ringed finger jabbed at Rachel, its owner frowning. "You get your ass over here, Berry. You make me sing, you're sure as Hell going to help me perform."

"It's your audition, M," Rachel stepped toward the front of the class with a hint of a smile on her lips.

"That you forced me into," she grabbed an electric guitar from a band member, thrusting it into Rachel's stomach. "If I'm working, you're sure as hell not going to sit over there and look all pretty while I'm wasting away."

"Yeah, yeah," Rachel murmured, strapping the instrument to her torso and fiddling around with the distortion. "Just shut up and sing."

Maria frowned. "That's no way to speak to your best friend."

"It's a good thing you're not my best friend then, hmm?" Rachel strummed lightly, adjusting the volume on the amp.

Blue eyes narrowed. "Wh-."

"You're my closest friend," Rachel interjected with a toothy grin. She tapped the neck of the guitar. "So, are we going to do this sometime soon, or…?"

"Yeah, yeah," Maria murmured, grabbing the microphone from the front of the room. She shot a baleful glare over her shoulder. "So you know what we're doing…?"

"You and I both know which song you're doing," the guitarist waved dismissively. "Just tell the rest of the band, cue us in, and let's get this over with."

"Jesus, so impatient, smurf…"

"Don't take the name of your Lord in vain."

"Shut it and let's play." Maria strode over to the drummer, whispering in his ear, drawing a grin and an enthusiastic nod.

He slapped his sticks together before bringing them down and falling into a driving rock beat.

The loud blare of the guitar fell heavy on their ears as Rachel effortlessly maneuvered her way up and down the neck of the instrument. A faint smile took residence on her lips, her neck craned up from her busy fingers to observe her friend center stage.

Maria grasped the microphone, closing her eyes as the first few measures of song drifted to her ears. As the riff reached its climax, fierce, steely orbs opened. A sultry smirk taking residence on her lips as she parted them to sing the first lines of the song.

"What's the time? Well it's gotta be close to midnight… my body's talkin' to me and it says 'time for danger.'"

"It says I wanna commit a crime… wanna be the cause of a fight. Wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger," She seized the microphone from the stand, strutting about the lowest riser. "I got a knack from way back, at breaking the rules once I learn the game. So get up, life's too quick, I know someplace sick where this chick'll dance in the flames."

Rachel fought the laugh begging to be loosed forth from between her lips. It seemed that she hadn't been the only one to shock the whole of the group with her performing prowess.

New Directions sat entranced as Maria worked her way about the room, flowing from place to place with relative ease. A sultry swagger settled about Maria's lithe frame, growing with every word pronounced in the smoky edge of her rich alto.

Finn squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, chanting 'mailman' as every curve of Maria's muscle labored visually beneath the skin-tight denim of her jeans. Puck merely smirked, eyes lustfully latched on her figure. Brittany tapped the beat of the song on a stunned Santana's shoulder.

And Quinn…?

Quinn didn't seem to enjoy Maria's performance at all.

Hazel eyes flashed a deep, burnished gold as they trailed about the room, burning holes into the dancer.

Amused blue twinkled in interest, matching the glare with an entertained crook of a fine eyebrow.

Maria strode purposefully toward Rachel, eyes still locked with fierce gold. A pale, heavily ringed hand fell on the brunette's shoulder as she slid behind the guitarist, singing out the next lines brazenly, stroking down a toned arm.

"You can get in too, if you get in with me."

Quinn's fists clenched as eyes narrowed, the last vestiges of soft green disappearing at the display. She bit her lip angrily, trembling with restraint.

The corner of Maria's lips quirked up in a mischievous smirk as she observed the cheerleader's agony. It shown for a mere moment before Maria lost herself in the song once more.

The number ended with a clatter of sticks and the Glee Club's cheers ringing in Rachel's ears.

She pulled the guitar from over her shoulder, handing it back to its awed owner with a grateful nod. Before Rachel had the opportunity to right herself, someone crashed into her, throwing their arms about her.

"M," Rachel choked out, fighting to loosen the crushing hold. "M, let me go…"

"I haven't seen you in weeks, smurf," the embrace grew tighter. "Tough it."

Mere feet away, golden eyes narrowed and nails dug crescents in pale flesh.

Quinn Fabray tasted blood on her tongue as she bit into her lip. Jealousy flared in each synapse and crackled within her chest.

She restrained herself, held her emotions in check as Rachel turned in the stranger's arms, gifting her with a genuine smile.

She held herself at bay, watching…

Waiting.

"I still can't understand how you're here."

Maria merely smiled as she set her suitcase down on the ground, looking about the sparsely furnished space of Rachel's nauseatingly pink room.

"You seemed like you were having some trouble adjusting," she sat down at the edge of the bed, crossing her legs. "You looked really shitty the last chat, so I packed up my bags, left Ma a note, and got my happy ass on the next flight."

Rachel frowned. "Lori's really not going to be happy with you."

Maria waved dismissively. "She'll understand after I let her yell it out a little." Pale hands went to Maria's chest in a gesture of mock heartbreak. "Why are you being so… confrontational, Rach? It's… it's almost like you don't want me to be here. I'm here to help me help you."

Rachel scoffed. "I bet it doesn't hurt that you're missing two week's worth of homework crap too, you slacker."

The Italian drew back as if wounded. "I'm hurt, smurf. Can't you just accept that I'm here to help you, free of any sort of ulterior motive."

"No."

"You really are a heartless bitch." Maria glared.

"Pot's calling the kettle black."

After rehearsal, Leroy picked the two girls up from school with a mischievous grin on his lips and a playful glint to his silvery eyes.

A fist bump between Maria and her Dad confirmed Rachel's suspicions. Her father had known that Maria would be in Lima and assisted her.

"She called last night, sweetheart," Leroy explained to his incredulous daughter. "She asked me if she could stay a while."

"You couldn't tell me she'd be here?"

"She asked me not to," he threw a glance over his shoulder at a very smug Maria. "Your friend can be very persuasive, Rachel. I couldn't spoil the surprise."

Rachel scowled. "Turning my own Father against me…"

"It's not my fault you're not as persuasive as I am, smurf," Maria chuckled. "I was born to charm the pants off everyone."

It was odd to see Maria and her Dad get along so well.

Back in San Diego, Maria made her dislike for Leroy Johnson known on more than one occasion. He'd become the person responsible for Rachel's pain. For the nightmares. For every little thing that'd gone wrong over the last five years.

Rachel despised her vulnerability. She hated every moment she had to lean on Maria's steady shoulder. Hated the tears that ran down her cheeks in steady, fevered streams during her agonized remembrances.

Leroy Johnson was responsible for these shortcomings. For the haunting memories. For the fact that Rachel could never move two steps forward in life without glancing over her shoulder for the specters of her past that haunted her still.

She cursed him and had told Rachel that she could never forgive his transgressions, no matter how he would try to right his wrongs.

Leroy would never be able to take away the years that Rachel suffered.

Perhaps she had forgiven him?

'Or maybe,' Rachel thought to herself as she watched Maria bow her head in thanks to her father before they headed upstairs. 'Maybe she's just as talented at wearing masks as I am.'

Maria's presence was bound to bring more unwanted drama to Rachel's life. No matter how great a relief her friend's presence brought, Rachel would undoubtedly pay for it.

Maria Arioso was like a volatile substance. Mix her with the wrong people or put her in the wrong situations, and she had the potential to do extraordinary damage.

New Directions was filled to the brim with all sorts of people Maria could potentially clash with. The near explosive argument with Santana had been a testament to the type of emotion that Maria could bring out in a person.

She knew the exact buttons to push to make someone furious or pull them over to her side. It made her a dangerous enemy and a valuable ally.

"So you're here for two weeks, M?" Rachel inquired softly.

"Yeah," Maria nodded. "It's all the time I could clear away from our hell hole of a school. If I could've gotten more time freed up, I'd stay with your depressed ass longer."

"What was your excuse?"

She chuckled. "I said I was taking an 'educational trip' to several colleges, especially those in the Ohio state area."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Bullshit."

"Oh, I know, right?" Maria agreed. "After all, who'd wanna live here? I nearly froze my ass off when I got off the fucking plane. There's nothing around here for miles and I can walk from one end of town to the other in an hour or two… This is a sad world you live in, smurf."

"It's a necessary evil," Rachel declared, taking a seat down on the newly purchased computer chair near the mahogany desk her Dad bought her the other day.

Maria frowned. "So I take it you haven't decided to come home yet?"

"No. I'm not leaving," Rachel confirmed, sliding forward, resting her arms on the bed. "A wise ass once told me that you could never start something new unless you finish something else."

"Smart person, that wise ass," Maria said jokingly. "You could learn a thing or two from that sort of brilliance."

"You know what that means, right?" Brown orbs locked with light blue.

"Yeah," Pale lids closed slowly. "You won't be coming home anytime soon."

"M…"

"I get it, Rachel," Maria murmured softly, bright eyes gentling. "This is something you have to do. Hell, I'd do something about it if I were you." She fell backward onto the bed, eagle-spread. "Any progress lately, by the way?"

"No," Rachel shook her head. "Dad's just as quiet and oblivious as ever… I'm beginning to wonder whether or not I'll ever get anything out of him."

Maria patted Rachel's arm comfortingly. "You will, smurf. I know you will. You're like a goddamned sleuth. Your Jew eyes see all."

"I hardly think my religious denomination has anything to do with the fact that I'm perceptive, Maria."

"Really?" Maria questioned, blinking up at her friend. "I think it has everything to do with it. Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat? All that shit. Jews are surrounded by all that creepy, psychic crap."

"It would follow you'd have the same power then, Maria," Rachel tapped her friend's forehead playfully. "Christians came forth from Jewish tradition."

"Well, I am pretty fucking brilliant…"

"Can you go a sentence without cussing?"

"No," Maria stated frankly. "Soooo… who was the little shorty during your New Infections meeting? The one lunging toward me like a rabid Chihuahua?"

"Santana," Rachel answered. "And you really shouldn't bait these people. You know you're just stirring up the pot unnecessarily, M."

"Santana?" Maria asked, tapping her chin. "Now... that's very latina. Definitely a chihuahua."

"M."

"Rachel."

"Don't cause trouble," the guitarist slapped her friend's shoulder, waving a finger at her companion rebukingly.

Rachel jumped, giving out a yelp as sharp teeth dug into her finger. She smacked a laughing Maria again, scowling grouchily.

"Don't do that."

"It's impolite to point at people, Rach," Maria smirked. "Don't wag your finger at me unless you wanna get the goddamned thing bitten."

"Cannibal."

"Totally," the redhead rolled her eyes. "I eat babies for breakfast. Stupid singers' fingers are my favorite snack."

"Troublemaker."

"Midget."

"Don't change the subject. Please just…" Rachel sighed. "Don't cause any trouble, M. The New Directions aren't all that bad. They've been good to me. Please, just help us."

Maria smiled genuinely. "That's what I'm here for, smurf. Why else do you think I'm here?"

"I thought you were here to help me."

"I'm helping you through my outstanding performing arts skills," Maria replied, eyes closed. "Because any Glee Club that can manage to make ring-a-round the rosy godly needs some help."

"They weren't that bad."

"The lead male sings and dances like he's constipated, Rach," Maria interjected. "The potential lead male was staring at my tits while I sang like some sort of lecher-."

"Because he is a lecher," Rachel mumbled.

"Your best dancers are swaying in the background, you've got two divas on your hands, and some of the best singers are stuck hiding in the background whilst all of you do your little Conga line up and down the risers in that shitty excuse of a 'dance,'" blue eyes snapped open, looking up at vehement brown. "Yeah, I'd say it's that bad."

"Okay, so… I was a little more kind in my complaints than reality is," Rachel sighed. "Still, I still think we have some good material to work with, don't we?"

"You've got some damn good dancers," Maria nodded. "Your friend Tina can sure dance and sing well… from the extremely brief clip you showed me."

"The pickings are slim, M," Rachel conceded. "They didn't record many of their performances from last year. All I have is the Journey Medley and the occasional class assignment. I don't have a clear read of everyone, but I think I know them well enough to know what each person can handle."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Maria said. She snapped her fingers. "Can you gimme your charts for this whole Spring Awakening set? I wanna see if we match up."

"You haven't seen all of them sing," Rachel said incredulously.

"I heard enough to know soloists and saw them move enough to know which bumbling idiot goes where," Maria gestured impatiently. "Come on, notes."

Rachel pulled a folder from her backpack, handing it over to her friend. "God, someone can't wait."

"It's better if I start now rather than later," Maria stated, flipping it open and pulling the charts out. Azure eyes flowed over each page of choreography, steely in their focus. "Shit, whoever added on is fucking good at this stuff."

"It's Brittany."

Concentrated stormy orbs snapped up. "Really? She's the one who added to the outline? She's… she's the really kickass dancer, yeah?"

"Yeah," Rachel hummed, kicking back in her chair.

"This really is some quality stuff," Maria whistled, adjusting one diagram. She tapped her finger to the page. "Here, in this one. I want your girlfriend out front instead of Aretha."

"My girlfriend?"

"The blonde, the one that stalks you all the time," Maria said absentmindedly, tapping the drawing. "I want her here instead of in the back. She can dance better than a majority of the girls, with the exception of that fucking brilliant Brittany person."

"Quinn's not my girlfriend, M," Rachel gritted out as she handed her friend a pencil. "She's straight. Catholic. Like you."

"I'm Catholic, but I sure as Hell ain't straight," the Italian scribbled directions in. She looked up with a smirk on her lips. "I'm sorta like the ocean, Rach."

"…The ocean?"

"Yeah, you know… Sometimes I'm perfectly flat… a calm, straight surface," Maria explained. "Then sometimes… most of the time… I have a shitload of waves."

"…Waves?"

"Yeah, you know," Maria shrugged. "Waves."

Rachel stared at her blankly. "…What?"

"…Waves? You know…?" Maria's jaw dropped, looking appropriately scandalized. "Oh shit, you don't know. How've you been my friend for so many years and not known that one…?"

"I'm still confused," a dark brow lifted.

"My gears turn both ways?" Maria added helpfully. "I'm straight line with the occasional bend?"

"Oh," Rachel said, blinking. "That."

"Yeah, that," Maria rolled her eyes before turning back to the charts. "Anyway… there's no chance that your girlfriend… Quinn, was it? There's no chance that her line isn't a bit bent, Rach. She was staring at you like you were a piece of her fucking property."

"Was she?" Rachel asked wryly, looking over Maria's shoulder. She furrowed her brow, tapping at the page. "You're adjusting everything here. I thought my placements were fine."

"If you want to look shabby, we'll use your placements," Maria scoffed. "And yeah, she was. She nearly went green with jealousy when I just ran my hand down your arm."

"Maybe homosexual activity makes her queasy."

"Or maybe she's just a jealous bi-. Hey, don't touch that!"

"I'm the one being a little more realistic, Maria," Rachel replied, resting her chin on Maria's shoulder. "She's one of the straightest people I've ever seen in my entire life. The cheerleaders at our old school always seemed to like looking up our dresses a bit too much… but Quinn-."

"Has kissed you on the cheek, paid for your coffee," Maria placed the chart down onto the bed, counting idly on her fingers, "practically wants to murder me just 'cause I gave you a little rub-."

"It felt like you were molesting me," Rachel deadpanned. "You got all up behind me-."

"Nothing different from what we usually do," she countered. "Friends are allowed to mess around with their friends, no? Especially when we're both so goddamned hot."

"Right," Rachel shook her head, sighing. Standing from the bed, she stretched slowly, before turning to face Maria. "We can talk about who is and isn't gay or whatever later. I'm going to go get some juice, want anything?"

"Got any soda?" the Italian asked, picking the charts up again and leaning against the etched headboard of the bed.

"Dr. Pepper or Coke?"

"Coke," she chewed on the end of the pencil.

As Rachel left the room, Maria shook her head, chuckling slightly as she settled comfortably against the small set of pillows behind her.

Rachel had been raised with two gay fathers and was best friends with a goddamned bisexual. The girl's gaydar sucked, and she seemed not to pick up on the fact that her line wasn't exactly straight either.

Back in San Diego, Rachel had been a hot commodity amongst the choir boys. She attracted attention because of her voice, drive, and kindness. Rachel Berry saw people through rose-colored lenses, despite all the shit she'd been through.

The result of Rachel's 'the glass is half full approach?' A chain of terrible boyfriends, starting their eighth grade year to present day.

They'd been terrible men—selfish, lustful, and absolutely no intelligence. Maria watched Rachel float from boy to boy, heartbroken and lonely. Time and time again, she made the same foolish mistakes, and time and time again Maria had to pick up the pieces.

Sure, there'd been the occasional decent boy thrown in here and there. Max Feldin had been a nice guy—good looking, decent, and he kept his hands to himself. Zach Marks hadn't been half bad either.

But for every good boy, there'd been several bad ones. While Rachel had less than five serious boyfriends in her life, she dated casually quite often.

Maria had always considered Rachel to be quite heterosexual. She'd never shown any sort of lingering attraction toward women (with the exceptional 'don't you think x is really pretty today?'), so she'd thrown out the possibility of Rachel being gay quite a while ago.

Until their Sophomore year of High School.

The two of them had a little too much to drink, which ended with a rather drunken make out session in Rachel's boyfriend's (Brody, at the time, if Maria could recall correctly) room.

The next morning led to a gay panic on Maria's part and a good cry on Rachel's shoulder.

They never talked about it again after that morning. Maria's bisexuality became commonplace. They never talked about it overtly unless Maria directly stated something about 'the hot chem chick in fifth period' or all the like.

Rachel was not one to judge on who liked whose genitals. She'd always been more of an 'equal opportunist'—at least, that's what Maria thought.

Quinn Fabray had it bad for Rachel. It was in her baring, the 'I am going to fucking kill you and toss your entrails to the sharks' glare she fixed upon Maria during her performance. And hell, she'd only copped a bit of a feel. Hell, it was fairly PG considering the fact she could've mounted Rachel in the middle of the goddamned choir room—that'd really piss Fabray off.

Maria bit the tip of the eraser with a grin on her lips.

There was more of a mystery afoot than Johnson's asshole past. Quinn Fabgay needed to be tested. Maria needed more information, and there'd rarely been anything she could do better than draw out the truth.

Hell, she topped Rachel in that department.

Closing the folder up, Maria leaned back, crossing her arms behind her neck with that dangerous smirk curled across ruby lips.

She'd get as much of the truth out of Fabray as she could. It'd be a good way to amuse herself, and hell, she couldn't resist stirring up the shit a little (even if it did make Rachel's life harder in the end).

It'd be an interesting week, Maria thought, chuckling to herself.

She'd make sure of it.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed :)