Blaine sighed as he snapped his fingers in front of Santana's face, forcing her to look at him, an unimpressed look on her face. "Charlie quit the team, she's still your girlfriend, it's okay if she wants to sit with us."

Santana glared at him, it was the team's fault that wasn't possible. "You guys keep hounding her for help while we're trying to figure out our relationship without the pressure of Charlie being the coach."

"I thought you guys said they broke up," Finn said, turning to the rest of the team who immediately shrugged and looked elsewhere when Santana turned to glare at them. "Then why isn't Charlie coaching us again?"

"Because Charlie coaching was affecting their relationship," Kurt supplies for Finn.

Finn nodded for a moment and went back to his sandwich for a moment, before pausing and looking at Santana. "Why can't you say that she gets to make us miserable one day a week, like the opposite of cheat day, that way everyone is happy?"

"Because that would be admitting that she overreacted," Rachel muttered under her breath. When Santana glares at her she sighs, "Beiste can't push us as hard as Charlie can, constantly. Practice has been dreadfully dull without the threat of getting struck by lightning. Charlie resigning wouldn't even be a terrible idea, if we could get her family to help out more consistently. But she's the one that pesters them consistently to help, and this is usually by promising to help them out. Frannie refuses to pay for a babysitter."

"I mean Rachel has a point," Kitty mumbled under her breath. "Plus she promised us fancy food and you had to get rid of her before she delivered?"

Santana twitched, she wasn't sure why the team felt like they could discuss personnel matters with her, let alone poke at her relationship with Charlie. "Does anyone else feel like they need to weigh in on my relationship and the way the team is run?"

"The team works best when you and Charlie are on the same page, it always worked best when you were on the same page. This feels like you two are about to break up, you guys promised that your relationship issues wouldn't bleed into the team dynamics. But they have." Tina adds.

Santana scowled and looked over at Sam who at least had the audacity to keep his opinions to himself. "Fine, she was going to spend Thanksgiving meeting my parents and abuela for the first time as my girlfriend, things have been coming up, so I need this to go well." Charlie had been keeping her distance, things between them felt off, Charlie felt off. Plus it was extremely off-putting when Charlie's eyes glowed randomly. She couldn't explain why, Charlie just seemed like she was far away and it was troubling.

"Charlie is pretty simple Santana," Artie points out, but when Tina elbows him he can't help but look away. He was entering dangerous territory. "She is. Sex, food, training and sleep, are her favorite things. My suggestion is—"

"Artie!" Tina insists.

"Is that you make her something delicious, something with bacon. Cheeseburger tacos."

Santana squinted at Artie, wondering if he was being slightly racist, "Do you have any idea how expensive it is to feed her?"

"I really don't know why you don't make her pay for it and you do the cooking," Kurt suggests.

"Because I'm not going to be Charlie's housewife! It was one thing when our relationship was more transactional, she trains me for free food, but we're dating, and I need to put an end to that line of thinking or Charlie will expect it from me!"

Kitty rolled her eyes; she really had no idea why Santana was freaking out. "Charlie's loaded, hire someone to do all the cooking. Lebron James spends a million dollars a year on maintenance, that's nutritionists, trainers, physiotherapists, make her pay for it and you only have to cook for her on special occasions. Or teach her how to cook."

"Charlie already knows how to cook," Marley speaks up. "She's really good at it too. Which was why I was looking forward to the barbeque."

Santana paused for a moment, her left eye twitching, Charlie had never once indicated that she knew how to make food for herself. "She knows how to cook?"

"Yeah, she made me some food once, Quinn was being Quinn and I was working and she was hungry. Have you ever suggested a romantic dinner for the two of you?"

Santana turns to look at her girlfriend for a moment, she basically was just subsisting on bacon jerky, she hadn't seen Charlie eat a piece of fruit. "Excuse me, I need to make sure that my girlfriend doesn't give herself scurvy." She grabs her tray and swipes Rachel's orange and grabs Finn's grapes and marches up to her girlfriend who seems to be lost in her own little world, her eyes were glowing but they weren't as iridescent as they normally were. "Hey."

Charlie's eyes stop glowing and she turns to look at Santana who takes a seat across from her. "Hey?" She'd been eating lunch by herself for the past few days. Santana seemed okay with giving her some space, she wasn't sure what it meant but she didn't want to ask either. She just hadn't been in the mood to engage.

"I heard a rather ugly rumor that you're capable of cooking and haven't offered to make me food. Also, as your girlfriend I'm concerned that your gums are going to start bleeding because I haven't seen you eat anything that isn't bacon jerky."

Charlie looks at her bag for a moment and offers some to Santana who immediately crinkles her nose and shakes her head. She taps her water bottle, "I squeeze some lemon into it!"

"So the rumors are false and you're simply incompetent in the kitchen?"

"If I'm incompetent does that mean—"

"No, Kitty has pointed out that we can hire someone to cook for you and I can cook for you on special occasions, your birthday—I mean it only comes around once every 4 years."

Charlie rolled her eyes as Santana put some grapes in front of her. "I know how to cook, but cooking for myself means dealing with my mother. I don't want to be at home, and I haven't really mastered induction cooking yet. It's either too hot or not hot enough, so most of my food has a char to it that does not taste good."

Santana raised a brow, "If all you need is a kitchen to cook, then why not use mine? You can make me lunch, you can make yourself a balanced meal. It's a win for everyone."

"What do I get out of it?"

"Something other than bacon jerky—which now that I say it out loud I'm aware you could probably eat for the rest of your life, because you have an unhealthy relationship with bacon." Santana holds her hand up, "It is not a food group, and I'm not going to enable your bacon addiction."

Charlie pops a grape in her mouth, and stares at her girlfriend for a moment. "Not that I'm not happy to see you but you usually spend lunch with the team, and they've been staring at us for a while now and it's making me uncomfortable."

"They're judging us, they want us to fix our relationship so you can come back and torture them once a week—I think you should come back and torture us once a week."

"Coach Beiste had a rather accomplished career Santana, and my grandpa can come in twice a week and help out every now and again and see how you guys are doing. If you want I can even drag Frannie there, and maybe Quinn to help out. I can't put myself in a box so you can shine Santana, and as long as I'm anywhere near the team they will pay attention to me rather than you and that bothers you. I honestly think it's best for you and your career if I just stay away from the team."

The words feel like a slap to the face, she had shown Charlie her vulnerable side only for her girlfriend to rebuff her. "Eat the orange and the grapes," Santana manages to get out and gets up to return to the table. Maybe insisting that she be Charlie's girlfriend was a mistake.

~ O ~

"Sue expects perfection, and while I certainly don't see that in practice, I'm telling you that if you want to make it to your senior year, then I suggest making sure we nail it at regionals." Quinn announced to the team, a clipboard in her hand.

"Great speech Quinn," Bree mutters under her breath.

"An excellent speech would be pointing out that for the vast majority of you, this might be the only time you manage to break out of your mediocrity and achieve greatness. I want that national title, Beiste can't be the only one at this school with a national title. The Cheerios budget has already been cut and if there are any further cuts then you will be cut, need to trim the fat and the deadweight as they say," Sue comments.

Quinn's lips quirk upward in a smile, she didn't know why they were complaining they got to miss class from Tuesday, they'd be back on Thursday for thanksgiving. "If we come in first, we'll have earned a cheat day, and it's thanksgiving. I don't know about you but I have every intention of enjoying the feast my mother prepares, so again perfection." Quinn snaps as she watches the girls lugging things onto the bus. She wasn't thrilled that they were going to Indiana by bus, but she had refused to babysit Mikey, and this was the result. She liked her nephew just fine, she simply didn't want to deal with Frannie's neuroticism.

"Good luck Quinn!"

Quinn turned and flashed a smile at Rachel who was waving at her and blinked, no one in her family really seemed interested in the fact that she was cheerleading. Well her mother did, but the timing of regionals meant that she wouldn't be able to come, but had promised to make it to sectionals which would at least tbe on the weekend. "Rachel?"

"I realized that you could use some support, you made it to all our competitions last year. I understand that you didn't have a choice, but I'm here to wish you good luck. I would have come , and I would come if I didn't have class. I doubt my fathers would give me permission to cheer you on if it meant missing class."

"It's okay Rachel, we should get past regionals without any real trouble despite the lack of perfection." Quinn calls out, smirking at the groan. "I have to go, you and your dads are coming over for Thanksgiving right?"

"We wouldn't miss it," Rachel promises.

"Good, you can help me keep my mom at bay, it's my senior year and she's already been hinting that we need to start dress shopping sooner rather than later for prom. Your dad is key in making sure that they distract each other and I don't have to deal with it now."

There's a loud crunch and Quinn and Rachel both turn to see Charlie sitting on top of the bus watching them, a metal can of peanut brittle floating beside her. She reaches for another piece and blinks when she realizes that she's been spotted. "I just came to tell you that you really can't lose here Quinn. We share a face and I can't have people—"

Quinn flicks her hand, Charlie's head becoming encased in ice. The action causes the can to fall and Quinn reaches out with her hand and catches it, pausing when she gets a good whiff of it. "Does this have bacon in it?" She questions as Charlie finally blasts her own face to free herself.

Charlie rubs her face and glared at her twin, before noticing that she was currently in possession of the last of her secret stash of bacon treats. "Quinn."

Before either one of them can start, Sue steps off the bus and looks up at Charlie who is still on the top of the bus. "What are you doing up there! And why are you out there and not on the bus! We're wasting daylight, so whatever this is, hurry up and finish it."

Before Charlie can even look at her twin, she feels the familiar sensation of Quinn freezing her underwear. She jumps back only to hit a patch of ice and slip off the bus.

Rachel snorts as Quinn winks at her and hops onto the bus. "I'm counting that as a win Charlie," she said, popping some peanut brittle into her mouth and groaning slightly at the saltiness of the bacon. Charlie and Brittany always did find the best snacks.

~ O ~

"Look, the one thing that I hate is when we make ourselves the victim. You know, 'oh my mother did this, and oh my father did that. Not to say that some of it ain't some fucked up shit that they did to you, and in some cases they had a hand in making you the way you are. But at a certain point, you realize that the only thing that your parents did was give you life, what you end up doing with that life isn't up to your parents, it isn't up to the people who hurt you, they don't want to see you living your best life. They want to continue living rent free in your head."

Cassandra adjusted in her seat, trying to keep her thoughts to herself. She had thought that maybe a meeting would make her feel better, maybe get her head clear. She hadn't expected to be lectured and condescended to by someone who had no idea what shit she had needed to deal with growing up. Her mother despised her existence, and her father enabled her, as much as she loved her father he had enabled her mother to treat her like she was a problem child. Judy was their golden child, Judy with her golden family. Why did she get to stand in the sun while she was left with nothing? Shelby had left, and it was clear that their love all had conditions.

The man continues not knowing the current danger he's in, "You know how people warn you not to burn bridges? That's a load of shit, sometimes the only thing that you can do is burn those fuckers down. You don't need to forgive those that hurt you, I mean it helps some people, but for people like us, you have to focus on forgiving yourself and let that fire cleanse you, and burn away your burdens."

"So what you're saying is that if I start fresh, things might be better?" Cassandra asks as she pushes herself to a standing position. "The pain that I feel—that I'm in—will stop?"

"It should, as long as you let go of the past, and you're serious about wiping the slate clean and doing the work. All those things that you want, the stability, the life you imagine with that girlfriend. You can have it, it'll be difficult, and messy, and lord knows it'll be tough, but you can be happy. You can be healed, you just need to let it go," the man insists.

"And all I have to do is burn it all down? And start again?"

The man smiles, "That's all you need to do Cassandra. Let it go. That's when the healing can begin."

A serene smile appears on Cassandra's face, as she raises her hands slowly. "Okay."