Author's Notes: The day had started out amazing, and it only went up from there.

Actually, the entire last week had been amazing.

Though she had been feeling a little down when she first arrived, trying to find her place in Kurt's already busy life, trying not to make him push her out of that life, Rachel knew that coming out to see him was exactly the right thing to do. And then to find Lucy, here, of all places, and between getting to know her and her ex Sam, plus Blaine --who, though Kurt was adamant there was nothing between them, she was certain she saw little hearts floating above him whenever the two of them were together-- and she felt like she was finally where she was meant to be. Even after getting accepted into NYADA, she hadn't been this happy with her life. Sure, she still wanted to perform, but she could do that anywhere. She'd already heard good things about the Billings Studio Theatre, and though the NOVA center downtown was perhaps more often geared toward opera and had apparently lost much of its musical glow in a merger two years ago, she was excited for the new possibilities that awaited her here. She was even considering finishing up her degree here, since she would have Kurt and Brittany along to help her, and an excellent school counselor if she was feeling overwhelmed.

She grinned at the thought, as she opened the refrigerator to take out the makings of a fruit salad. She had promised Kurt when he left for his classes that morning that she would make sure the girls were fed properly before their meeting with Lucy --Quinn, she thought, she had to remember that they all called her Quinn-- that afternoon. She could tell, even after these last weeks, he was still skeptic of her skills in both cooking and baby-sitting, but she knew it wasn't really personal; if she had a family as great as Brittany and Sunny, she would be hard-pressed to trust anyone else to look after them properly, too.

Maybe, she thought, when he got used to having her around, she could talk him into keeping her in the rotation, so they could schedule their classes accordingly. On the matter of classes, she had been emailing her professors, and though they were sad to see her go, they were perfectly willing to let her do her final presentations via Skype, and she had already sent in her final essays. They hadn't asked a thing about the nature of her personal emergency, for which she was grateful, but she was surprised that it was going so well. She had expected some fuss, especially when she had spoken with Madam Tibedeaux about her withdrawal from the program at the end of the semester. Even she had been understanding, though, to the point that she had encouraged Rachel to return to them whenever she wanted, if it was a semester away, or ten years.

"It's because you're amazing," Lucy had told her when she spoke with her about it, but Rachel was still skeptic; yes, she knew she was amazing, but this was Carmen Tibedeaux they were talking about. She would worry about it later, though, she told herself, getting out a cutting board and searching for a sharp knife when Brittany came up behind her.

"Are we making lunch, Rachel?"

She blinked in surprise; she hadn't heard the blonde enter the kitchen. In fact, she had been pretty certain that she had gone to the library to get some books for a paper she was writing. A glance at the clock on the microwave showed her that it had been nearly an hour since then, though, so maybe she just wasn't paying attention.

"Uh, yes, Brittany, we are. I was thinking of a fruit salad, and maybe some sandwiches. Though I'm not sure what kind of sandwiches," she frowned, but Brittany grinned.

"Peanut butter and jelly is our favorite."

Rachel laughed, caught off-guard by the energy with which that statement was made and nodded.

"I don't doubt it. Peanut butter and jelly it is. We could probably have Sunny help us, too." Brittany looked around for the toddler, and Rachel added with a smile, "She's coloring in the bedroom. I may have given her a Disney Princess coloring book," she admitted, and her smile grew at the delighted gasp from the other girl. "This salad might take a little time. Why don't you join her for ten minutes or so? Then we'll be ready to make the sandwiches."

"Awesome," she grinned and turned and nearly flew back to her room.

Rachel shook her head after her, and busied herself cutting and dicing the fruits she had picked out; she said a little prayer of thanks that Kurt had been so willing to take her shopping last night. She knew he was on a budget, but she wasn't, and was perfectly willing, too, to buy food as a form of rent before she officially moved in after she enrolled. Kurt had been stubborn about it, of course, but even though she was a vegan, that didn't mean she didn't know the cost of other foods, and she knew he had spent damn near a fortune on that Thanksgiving meal last week. It didn't hurt her pocketbook to pick up more than just tofu, and it hadn't taken her a minute of arguing with Kurt to get her way.

She smiled as she remembered the long-suffering sigh he had given, but the smile faded as she remembered what had come after that.

She hadn't had a car since she lived in Ohio, so of course it made sense for Kurt to drive his; when she learned that his reticence to go out wasn't just because of pride, but because of a dirty word hidden beneath a piece of tarp, she had first wanted to go out and murder someone, and then wanted to kill herself for not realizing that this was what had been off about him all day. She had made a comment to Lucy --Quinn-- after brunch that he was being unusually moody, and they had laughed a little when she reminisced about him confronting her about her own mood one day senior year, saying that their periods weren't due until the end of the month, and they had spent an inordinate amount of time speculating about the veracity of such an event happening; the probability of it happening to Kurt was rather high, they had agreed, and dissolved into laughter before changing the subject. They hadn't been speaking in malice; Rachel loved Kurt like a brother, and she could see that Quinn cared for him a lot, as well. But she still felt guilty about their words, especially when Kurt explained the entire ordeal and told her he had absolutely no clue who would do such a thing. What should have been a fun shopping trip, the type she had imagined when they had first talked of living together in New York, became a muted ordeal, and though Kurt didn't fuss about her buying a full load of groceries for his family, she knew it wasn't because he had given up on convincing her he could handle it himself, but because he couldn't stop thinking about those six stupid letters splashed across the side of his car.

She was considering, since she would probably need a job at some point when her savings ran out, that she might see if the coffee shop he worked at needed anymore help. Maybe they could work shifts together, and maybe she could keep an eye out for the asshole that thought it was okay to use that kind of language and give him --or her, she conceded-- what for the next time he showed up with an idea to give Kurt's car a new paintjob.

"Aunt Rachel, look, look! I colored Princess Tiana!"

The interruption broke her from her thoughts and the scowl that was starting to settle on her brow, and she turned from the slowly-growing pile of fruit to see Sunny holding up a page from her coloring book. She had made the princess's dress dark purple rather than the green it was in the original --coloring the frog version of Prince Naveen in the same dark tone, she saw-- but Rachel only smiled and knelt down to the toddler's level.

"That's beautiful, princess. You know, I'm half African-American myself. I was so excited when I saw The Princess and the Frog."

"What's affri--affrike--what's that?" the little girl frowned, and Rachel opened her mouth to explain when Brittany came up behind the girl, her own coloring page in hand, and said, "She means she's got darker skin like Tiana. But only half, because one of her dads is white."

"Oh." She nodded slowly before asking, "You have two daddies?"

"That's right, princess," Rachel grinned. "Hiram and Leroy Berry. They met in college and have been in love with each other ever since."

"So you don't have a mommy?"

Her expression softened at the concern in those bright blue eyes, and she shook her head.

"I have a birth mother." Whom you should probably call, a small voice pointed out. "But she's not like your mommy. I only met her when I was older, and we're friends, but that's all."

"Oh." She frowned a moment, and then said, "If Daddy and Blaine become boyfriends, I can have two daddies and a mommy, right?"

Both Rachel and Brittany laughed at that, and Rachel shrugged.

"Well, we'll see. Now, I bet your daddy would love if you put that picture on the fridge, don't you?"

She nodded ecstatically and rushed to find a free magnet as Brittany said, "You think he'd be okay if mine went on there, too?"

Rachel glanced down at the picture she had colored of Princess Anna and Queen Else and smiled.

"I'm sure he'd love it, Britt. You two ready to help with the rest of lunch? I think I'll probably have the fruit salad done by the time you--"

"Aunt Rachel, your phone is ringing."

Rachel blinked and then frowned. She hadn't even heard it go off. She looked over at the table and then realized she had left it in her bedroom. She took a step toward the hall, before she looked down at her messy, fruit-covered hands and frowned.

"Answer it for me, sweetheart? I need a second to wash up."

The girl nodded enthusiastically, her golden curls bouncing before she turned on a pirouette and dashed to where Rachel could finally hear her phone blasting out Barbra's original version of "Don't Rain On My Parade." She hummed along for a second as she ran her hands under the sink, and then smiled at Sunny's greeting, "Hello, this is the great and talented Rachel Berry's phone, how can I help you?"

Brittany laughed out loud and then clapped her hands as Sunny came back into the kitchen.

"That was perfect, baby."

"You taught her that?" Rachel asked in surprise, and Brittany nodded.

"Of course. She likes to answer phones, and we both agreed that we need titles for when she does. I am the amazing Brittany S. Pierce, better than Britney Spears. Kurt is the wonderful and charming Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. And now you have a title too!"

Rachel shook her head, not surprised at all that it was a collaboration between the two girls, and wiped her hands on the dish rag.

"I'm pretty sure his middle name isn't actually Elizabeth, Britt."

The blonde frowned and opened her mouth to reply when Sunny tugged on Rachel's sweater, and she looked down into bright blue eyes accompanied by a scrunched up nose and pursed lips.

"There's a man who wants to talk to you, Rachel."

"Oh?" She wanted to both laugh and take a picture of the toddler's expression, and took the phone from her outstretched hand. "Did he say who he was?"

"It was something about a fish."

"A fish?" she blinked in confusion, but shook her head. The little girl had probably just misunderstood. "Thank you, princess. Would you like to help your mommy make lunch while I take this?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth turned up in a wide grin before she dashed past her and clung onto her mother's leg.

"What are we making, what are we making, what are we making?"

Rachel laughed as she watched the scene before her unfold; Brittany lifted Sunny so she could sit on the counter by the sink and handed her a jar to open before the two of them simultaneously broke into song about peanut butter and jelly. They were so much in tune with each other, both musically and physically as the passed the ingredients back and forth between each other, and Rachel wondered if she would ever get that, if she would ever had a daughter to sing with and make sandwiches with and just have fun with. She was still smiling when she brought the phone to her ear, and said, "Hello, this is Rachel Berry."

"Rachel, thank god." She paled as the familiar voice reached her and nearly dropped the phone as the man went on, "I've been trying to get a hold of you for forever. Who was that who answered the phone? She sounded familiar. And wait a second, is that Brittany singing in the background? Rachel, are you in Montana?"

"Finn."

She jumped at the clatter of the knife to the floor, and her wide-eyed gaze went to Brittany's equally wide-eyed look, and she watched Brittany mouth 'Finn' in surprise.

"Mommy, what's wrong? Why did you drop the knife? That's dangerous, you know."

"Hey, baby," she began, pulling the girl back up into her arms. "I know you love peanut butter and jelly, but what do you say we go visit the grill for lunch today instead?" She frowned, the protest clear on her face, when Brittany went on, "We can order a grilled cheese sandwich, plus I'll let you have some Sprite."

That was clearly the magic word, as the young girl's eyes sparkled with delight, and she demanded to be let down so she could get her shoes and coat. Rachel couldn't even find the strength to say thank you to the obvious set-up as Brittany hustled the little girl out the door in her bright pink jacket with the white faux-fur lining the hood. She wished she could run out the door with them, she thought, as she watched the door shut gently behind them, Brittany's earnest blue eyes the last thing she saw before she shut her own. She wished she hadn't decided to turn her phone on; she had email, didn't she? What did she really need a phone for? She could even text via email, couldn't she?

She wished that she had never left New York, she thought as the buzzing in her head grew, and she tried to focus on the words of the only man she had ever really loved.

"--was trying to keep things quiet, because I didn't want to freak people out, but it's been weeks, Rach, and no one knew a thing. I understand that being involved in all this theater stuff means being kind of a diva, but don't you think you went a little too far? I've been worried sick, and--"

She still loved him, she thought as he went on, venting frustration and fear on top of one another, and so the guilt was worse than it might have been had he simply ceased to matter. Why had she left without saying a word? She had only spoken on the subject briefly with Lucy, trying to be blas� as she mentioned stresses from school, anxieties from the same quarter, and just feeling like she needed to come out here, feeling like Lucy --in her imaginative state-- had been the final push for her to do so, and so here she was. But it had all been surface talk, and Rachel had been more than happy to get to know the real Lucy --the real Quinn-- versus what she knew of her from before, pushing all talk of New York and NYADA and, especially, talk of Finn, to the back while they debated politics, clothes, music, even favorite colors.

If there were moments she could see those piercing green eyes wanting to ask more, Rachel had simply ignored it. She was so happy where she was, so happy with the admittedly baby steps she and Quinn were taking in their blossoming relationship, so happy to be able to relax and not have to worry about being judged at every corner, so happy to just be.

She desperately wanted to live in the now, not the past.

The past was raging at her from over half-way across the country, and Rachel swallowed before she cut off Finn's tirade.

"What do you want from me, Finn?"

She winced even before the sudden silence became awkward; she hadn't meant to sound so curt. But she wasn't sure how she could sound any other way; not only was he a slap in the face of the dreamland she'd been living in, but if she let herself be calm, let herself care more than she did, she might not be able to come back from the swirling abyss that was sure to send her into.

The question was a lie, if questions could be lies. She knew what he wanted; she just didn't think she could give it to him, not now, maybe not ever.

She sighed softly, and said, "I'm sorry, Finn. I didn't mean it like that. I--"

"Why did you leave?"

"I--" She swallowed as she felt her throat close up, and walked out of the kitchen into the living area. His voice was a mix of anger, confusion, and hurt, and she could barely breath over the pressure of them all. "I needed a change," she managed after a moment. "I just--"

"Well, fuck, Rachel, if you needed a change, you could have changed your wake-up routine, or gotten another one of those makeovers you apparently need to become a real New Yorker."

She flinched, both at the language, and the reminder of that stupid fling with Brody so many years ago.

"It wasn't that kind of--"

"Or we could have gone out to dinner a couple times a week or something, like we used to. I mean, I know we've been busy, but we could still--"

"Finn," she cut him off as gently as possible, shaking her head as if he could see her, "It wasn't like that."

"Yeah? So what was it like, Rachel? What could have possibly been going through that crazy head of yours that you left without saying a single word?"

She was silent, the only sound in the room the click of the heater turning on its cycle, and Finn's heavy breathing in her ear, and it took her a moment to find the words.

"I had to go," she began slowly, "And I didn't want anyone to talk me out of it."

"You didn't--Rachel. I don't get you. New York has been your dream since you were three. Why would you want to leave?"

"It just wasn't...it wasn't the right place, Finn. I...I wasn't happy, and I--"

"Not happy? You're in RENT, Rachel. After Funny Girl and Wicked, isn't that like your dream?"

"I--of course. And Maureen is a great role, but I didn't--"

"And that Tivo lady--"

"You mean Carmen Tibedeaux?"

"She thinks you're the greatest thing ever."

"I know that. But I still--"

"And what about you and me? Aren't we planning your perfect Central Park wedding? I mean, geez, Rach, you're life here is everything you've ever wanted. And you're just walking about on a whim? Because you're unhappy?"

She started to frown, but tried to stay cool as she said, "It wasn't exactly a whim, Finn. I mean, yes, it might have seemed like that, but I--"

"Your Broadway dreams are practically on a platter at your feet, and you're just throwing them away? What the hell is wrong with you, Rachel?"

Her eyes sparked fire, and she snapped back, "What is your problem? You never wanted me to go on Broadway anyway!"

"I never said that, god damn it."

"Oh, didn't you? What happened to all those freak-outs senior year when you said we would never be together if I went to New York?"

"You can't do that to me, Rachel. That was high school. I was an idiot then."

"Well, you're reverting back to form right now," she said, unaware of how her voice had risen.

"What? Rachel, stop being so uptight. You can't just throw everything away like this."

"I can do whatever I damn well please. I am my own person, Finn Hudson. You have no say over what I do or--"

"The hell I don't. I'm your fianc�, and if you think I'm not going to do everything I can to get you over this insanity--"
"Excuse me?" She understood he was a little upset, but there was no reason to resort to pettiness. "You don't understand--"

"You have to come back to New York, Rachel. You have responsibilities here that you can't just leave behind."

"No, I'm not coming back to New York. I told you, I can't--"

"God, Rachel, when are you going to stop being such a fucking drama queen?"

She stilled in her place, inhaling sharply at the term. She had always been sensitive about it; she knew she could be a drama queen, but she was passionate about her art and sometimes people just didn't understand. But Finn...despite everything, she'd thought he was one of the few who did.

Apparently, she'd thought wrong.

"You can go to Hell, Finn Hudson," she said, putting as much ice into her tone as she could before she ended the call and threw her phone onto the sofa.

She didn't know how a conversation could have gone so wrong. She had been trying to explain, as best she could, but Finn just kept cutting her off, not letting her organize her thoughts, and then to end with that...she hated him so much right now. And loved him at least half that much, too, damn it.

Slow breaths, she told herself. You don't want to have a breakdown. What would you do if Brittany and Sunny came back and found you like that? Keep cool. Take it--

"Rachel?"

She went still at the intrusion; she hadn't even heard Kurt come in, before she turned slowly to face him. Though she knew he hadn't heard it all, the cautious expression on his face told her that he had heard enough, and that was enough to get her to take the two steps toward him before falling into his arms and the tears she had been fighting so hard to keep under control burst forth into sobs as she rested her head on his shoulder.