#para9

Franco was fuming. Darius was pissed at him, Charlie was pissed at him and now, in his mind, Benji had basically said Franco didn't love him, all over wanting to go for a walk. He'd been laying in bed, fighting the urge to get up try and leave the house until this moment, he stormed into the lounge, "Hey, asshole" he said, his rage buzzing inside him. He knew it was still the withdrawal making him like this, knew it was a common effect to become agitated, "You'd think after the shit I've gone through over the last week, you'd trust me enough to go for a freaking stroll in the garden! I haven't even had a cigarette for days!"

Benji was sitting on the couch, nursing his shoulder. After this week, he knew he had to be particularly careful with it as it finally started to heal, lest he have to get surgery. When Franco barged in, he barely blinked, the events of this week making him grow tired of Franc's anger--thanks to the withdrawal, the Honeymoon phase was already over as far as Benji was concerned.

"Cute nickname. We should keep that one," he chided, not bothering to look up from his shoulder. "And you'd think after the version of you I saw, and the hell that that you put me through, you'd understand why I'm not letting you yet. You're not ready yet, and I'm not in a position to be able to pull you back yet. I'm like one bad tug away from surgery, Franc."

Franco groaned, "Don't be an ass" he hissed out, "I didn't do anything in the last week purposely did I? You keep using my behaviour against me like I'm some kind of fucking animal who chose to attack you! I'm sorry that you got hurt, but I'm pissed you don't fucking trust me.... That you's threaten me like you did!"

Benji turned his body so he could look at his boyfriend. "I trust you. It's the withdrawal urges that I don't trust. Understand, you're progressing well, and I'm proud of you, but it's still only be like a day since you were literally willing to do anything, even hurting me for a hit. It's just too soon. There's no guarantee that isn't gonna come and go for a while in the same way that your shaky hands do and unlike your shaky hands, I can't fix it if you run off or hurt one of us." He sighed, "And I apologize for threatening you. But... you can't push my buttons like that. You know that."

Franco leant against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He'd not even put a t-shirt on so, when Benji mentioned the hit, he looked down at the marks in his arm, "It's just a walk" he spoke quietly, "I told you you could handcuff me... Hell I'd go as far as to say tie my freaking feet together and stand next to me with the drug you gave me and let me sit on the step outside" he spoke again, his tone even and making him even uneasy, "I just want air and a cigarette".

Benji bit his lip and thought in silence for a moment before responding, "I'm not gonna handcuff you. No more handcuffs. I promised you that." He paused. "...Fine. You can go outside for a smoke. But if you run off or do something crazy, I'm not gonna forgive you."

Franco sighed, "Look, I can't promise I'm not going to think about it" he admitted, "But, you sit next to me and I'll promise to tell you if I wanna run" he spoke softer, his harsh voice not him, "Benji, I don't like this at all, but I know how tempted I'll be once I'm out there".

"I'm not expecting you to just shut off your brain. They're urges. You're gonna have them. Especially now before we get you into a program. You just can't act on them." He put his arm back into the sling and stood up from the sofa, walking past Franco to go to his bedroom. "Alright," he eventually said as he came back, a dog leash hanging off his good shoulder. "You can go out, but I'm tying your legs when we get out there."

Franco nodded, "I'm not joining a program" he whispered, "You said a therapist and I said once, no programs, no group support". That was not what he wanted, not at all. He watched Benji come back with the lease and raised an eyebrow, "Really?" He asked before shaking his head, "Fine if that's what puts your mind at ease and lets me smoke".

Benji merely blinked. He didn't understand how Franco couldn't realize the amount of strain his stubbornness was putting on their relationship. Every time he flatly refused something that Benji knew would help him, Benj couldn't stop his mind from traveling back to what life was like right before Franco's addiction came to light: living alone with Topher and adopting a dog together... Franco was right about what he said the other day--it was such a more simple life.

"You suggested it. And since I'm not an idiot who's just gonna let you go without anything and I refuse to put handcuffs back on you until your wrists heal, this is what we're doing." He unlocked the door and opened it, holding it open for Franco to walk out of.

Franco sighed and nodded, "Fine, like I said, I'm all for trying so... I'll roll with it". He followed Benji to the door and walked through, trekking down the stairs leading to outside of the building. This was the problem with apartments and not trailers. When they got outside, the fresh air hit him hard and he gripped a railing to stop himself from collapsing as he looked across the yard area, desperately wanting to run, "Come on" he breathed, already fighting his urges, "Do what you need to before I go".

Benji knelt down and tied the lease around Franco's ankles. "I'm giving you 15 minutes and that's it for today," he stated, standing back up from his kneeling position.

Franco scoffed and took out his cigarettes whilst Benji tied his feet together, lighting one as he leant against the railing, "Benj..." He began looking down at the lease around his ankles, "This ain't gunna work out is it?"

By this point, Benji was sitting on the top step to the building, playing a random game on his phone as he waited. "Fine. It's not the best knot in the world, but it's the best I can do with the sling. It'll hold," he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

Franco looked over at Benji and gulped, "I wasn't talking about the knot" he breathed as he took another drag of his cigarette, "I was talking about us".

Benji blinked and turned to Franc, unsure how to respond. "I... I want you better. And I want us happy together," he swallowed, "And I'm willing to put the work in. I am. But..." he trailed off, moving his gaze away from Franc.

Franco nodded, "But ultimately we don't end up staying together do we?" He said, his lip quivering on the last few words, "Ultimately I'm too much too handle and thus doesn't work for us".

"But ultimately... I need you to put in as much work on this as I am." He gave a deep breath, already embracing for impact. "I'm not trying to be mean, and I don't wanna fight--I am so tired of fighting you, Franc. All I want is for us to be able to cuddle, and talk, and tease each other, and just... be in love. But... You have to be less stubborn about getting help if we're going to do that. Therapy, programs, support groups... you have to be willing to do it all. At least try it all. Because... I'll be honest, Franc. Every time you refuse something that I know would get you better, it's... it's just another piece of straw."

Franco shook his head, "I am trying. Lord knows I could have left days ago if I didn't want to get better, for you". He gulped, trying to hold back his tears, "You say this stuff will help me but once I'm clean, once I'm back to the old me, I won't even be able to leave the house without jumping out my skin everytime someone walks past me. I won't be able to step outside without fear coursing through my body and then I'll have to go to a bunch of strangers, alone and pretend I'm OK with that" he gave a sad sniff as he put one cigarette out and lit another, "I'm pushing you away so you don't get hurt Benji. I'm terrified I'm going to hurt you".

Benji sighed, still not able to look at Franco. "That's my point, Franc. The therapy's for the trauma. It'll help you find good coping methods. It'll help you get over the fear. It'll help you with all those things you're afraid you won't be able to do without the heroin. But you need a program and a support group to keep you off. That's why I get so quiet or pissed off when you only agree to part of something. It's all of it together that's gonna help you. This is serious stuff, Franc. And you can't just pick and choose what you do. I've done my research. I know what you need to do, okay? And I just need you to trust me. For once, just trust me."

He finally turned to look at Franco, "...Do you really think you haven't hurt me?"

Franco took a deep breath, "What don't you understand. I can't do it alone. I can't leave the house and I don't want to do it alone. Benj, you can't make me do this by myself, I'll cave" he begged turning his body to Benji. He heard the last question and a tear slipped down his face, "I didn't do on purpose" he said as his breath caught in his throat, "You can walk away. No questions asked. Right now. Just untie my feet and I'll go, if that's what we need. If that's what you need".

"I'll take you to meetings. I pick you up for therapy sessions. I'll do all of it and you'll never have to do any of it alone. All you have to do is promise me that you'll keep and open mind. That's literally all I need," Benji replied. "If I was gonna give up on us, I would've done it already, Franc," he admitted. "I just... I need you to promise me you'll give recovery your all. As long as you give it your all, and all long as you never cheat on me again--for any reason--I'll stay."

Franco nodded, "If you promise you'll take me and you'll stay with me, then I'll do it. I'll do whatever is needed, whatever you ask me to do. Or I'll try it all at least, but I can't do it alone" he spoke, more of a beg once again. Franco gulped and moved to hold Benji's hand, "I do everything I can, if you'll just stay by me". He heard the comment about cheating and closed his eyes, "I was desperate Benji and I needed it and I had no money. I will never cheat on you again".

Benji hesitated, but eventually relaxed his hand into Franco's. "I know you were. Hummel had no right to take advantage of you like that." He bit his lip, "I promise I will get you through this as long as you keep up your side of the deal. Never again."

Franco breathed a sigh of relief as Benji took his hand and nodded, "Aaron shouldn't have taken advance like he did but it's his job at the end of the day". He looked down at the floor and then brought his eyes to meet Benji's, "I love you" he said, the most sincere he'd ever said it and whilst he wasn't high, "I will never ever cheat on you again".

For the first time in a week, Benji smiled. "I love you too," he replied, standing up and pulling Franco into a deep kiss.

Franco stood with him but he laughed into the kiss, "Might wanna untie my feet now though before I fall down these steps".

Benji nodded and pulled the leash loose with one hand before looking back at Franco. "Baby, if you tried to move, it would've come a-loose. I don't know how to tie knots," he admitted, laughing lightly as he kissed Franco again.

Franco laughed, "So what you are saying is, if I'd tried, I could have run" and he looked to Benji, "But I didn't try did I?". He knew it wasn't the moment but he actually felt proud. He'd been outside and he's not tried to go.

Benji grinned. “What I’m saying,” he kissed Franco softly, “is that you could’ve ran if you really wanted to,” he gave another kiss, “but you didn’t. You didn’t even try. And I am so, so proud of you, Franc.”

Franco felt himself smile, a real smile, the first smile he'd smiled since this hell had began. He stepped towards the doorway, "Look, I know  have no right to ask for favours or rewards or anything but, do you think we could just, I don't go back up and watch a movie? I need to sleep but I know just closing my eyes won't work and I'll feel safer if I can feel you".

Benji nodded, his hand tightly held in Franco’s. “You deserve a reward, Babe,” he whispered, helping Franco back up the stairs. “Any movie you like. We can even order food or pop popcorn. Anything.”

Jessi

Jessi wasn´t exactly happy about this whole encounter. Part of her really wanted to just ignore the fact that Rachel Berry even existed, even though that was an impossible task. No one could ignore the existence of Rachel Berry, she´d make sure of that. Still, this was something she´d probably have to get done with her head held high and a smile on her face so she could put this whole thing behind her. She´d already made her way to the coffee shop, ordering a chai latte for herself, sitting at a table by the window while she waited for Rachel to join her.

Rachel

Considering the way their lives (and their bodies) had intertwined in the past, Rachel didn't think this would be, or for that matter should be, an awkward encounter. She and Jessi knew each other on very intimate levels, and though that part of their relationship was over, Rachel truly believed this could be a sort of fresh start for them in other ways. With their sexual past was out in the open, Rachel didn't really see a reason to keep up their rival ruse, especially when they generally got along and respected each other for their respective talents.

So she entered the coffee shop with a smile and wave in Jessi's direction, and then motioned that she'd be right back. After grabbing an iced coffee at the counter, Rachel slipped into the seat across from Jessi. She placed her drink atop the table, and then after reaching into the pocket of her shorts, added a single key to the table top as well. "I'm keeping the keychain as a memento, J," Rachel half teased, but there was also sincerity to the comment. Rachel regretted none of the time they spent together.

Jessi 

Oh girl, here we go, Jessi thought as she noticed Rachel approaching. While she definitely didn´t regret any of their encounters, and at some point would be able to look back at it and smile, she was rather glad she was a good actress and could fake her way through this. Maybe even through a friendship that could, one day, become genuine. For now she matched Rachel´s smile as the other woman joined her at the table. "You´re welcome to," She countered then, taking the key and letting it drop into her bag. She would have told Rachel to keep the key, in case she changed her mind, but that probably wouldn´t have been the best start to this friendship and even though Jessi was cocky she wasn´t about to get into a discussion about her heartbreak and feelings. "You can call yourself lucky. You´re the only woman who ever got a key to one of my places. Not counting college, because my roommate was rather...active and it felt like half of the student body had a key to our room."

Rachel

"Well stars are kind of my thing. And I'll make sure to add that achievement to my resume." Though Rachel's comment could be perceived as another tease, it again was Rachel's attempt to acknowledge the significance of the action. When Rachel had received Jessi's gift all those months ago, it had both surprised and intrigued her considering the potential of what it offered. And while she had utilized the key a handful of times, sometimes the weight of it felt like a commitment she wasn't ready for, and Rachel questioned if Jessi was, too. But none of that mattered much now, did it? The memories were hers, but the key no longer was. 

"That roommate sounds horrid." Rachel was making a face and sending thanks to the stars that her own experience at Berklee wasn't anything like that. But after a beat, a pleasant expression returned as Rachel asked, "How was the Hamptons?" Because that's something that friends did -- ask each other about their vacations -- and that's what Rachel was hoping she and Jessi could be.

Jessi 

Jessi would have told her to keep the key. Along with her heart. And then she would have slapped herself for being so cheesy. But alas, none of that really mattered now. They´d missed their spot and she was not that girl. To bring in one last Wicked reference. Ever since hearing about Quinn and Rachel Jessi had wondered whether she should have talked to Rachel about her feelings. But then again she had no idea how long this thing had been going on and the last thing she had wanted was to embarrass herself in front of Rachel. She had thought she couldn´t be hurt if she simply didn´t confess her feelings, but oh how wrong she had been. At the mention of the Hamptons she offered Rachel a smile before taking a sip of her coffee. Sugar was nice. Sugar was probably the right choice. And yet...she wasn´t Rachel. "It was pretty nice. Sugar and I had a good time relaxing by the pool and we went out for dinner. It was nice...making good memories in the Hamptons for once."

Rachel

At the mention of making good memories for once, a slight frown thinned Rachel's lips. Her and Jessi's time together wasn't always just about sex. Their intimacy could include personal details and issues that were going on in their lives, so Rachel was aware of what those less than pleasant memories entailed. But soon enough her smile matched the one Jesse was wearing because she had meant what she said the other day. Jessi deserved good things in her life, and even if Rachel didn't have anything good to say about Sugar, she could appreciate the fact that the other woman had clearly helped make Jessi's weekend away enjoyable. "Well that's great to hear. Good memories and all. What about on the professional front? Good things on that horizon, too?"

Jessi

Jessi took another sip of her coffee. "Yes, it was good. Sugar really helped with the memories." She threw Rachel a smile and really, she should have felt bad for using Sugar to make herself feel better, and for using her on Rachel, but feeling bad about things like that? Well that just wasn´t Jessi St.James´ style. "Ah well, I´ve been going to some auditions and doing some workshops. So we´ll see about that." Another sip of coffee. "Maybe I´ll get a tour. I´ve had a couple of auditions for that. I love New York, but maybe it wouldn´t be too bad to get out for a littlr while."

Rachel

"You'll land something soon enough." Rachel accentuated her adamancy with a nod of her head. "You're beyond talented, J, and anyone who refuses to admit and reward that fact is honestly an idiot. Though if you landed a tour," Rachel was grinning now, "I'm not sure the Warblettes could survive in your absence."

Jessi 

Jessi couldn´t help but smile at the compliment, and for once it was a genuine smile, one she didn´t have to fake. "Well thank you. See...I don´t think I can stomach us being friends. You complimenting me non stop is just strange," she laughed before finishing her coffee. "I do think they might go down without me. Though...I´m not going to lie. Things have been a little tense anyways. We still manage to slay the performances, but the rehearsals are torture sometimes."

Rachel

"For old time's sake I can hurl an insult at you every once and awhile just to keep you on your toes, J. And feel free to do the same, though leave my nose and height out of it, please. Quips about either are truly lazy." At the mention of practices, Rachel could only nod. She wouldn't consider their Pamelas practices as torture, but with all the breakups and hookups and eye sex, and then with Blair's visit to work on their duet, there were certainly moments of awkwardness. "Why torture?"

Jessi

"Sounds like a plan. And please, you know I´m better than to take the lazy route." She teased with a smile and well, in another life, she figured, they could have been great friends. But Jessi also thought it was probably best if she avoided Rachel for the time being. Without telling the other woman, obviously. She pushed her empty coffee cup aside. "Well. Relationship drama. Or  non relationship drama for that matter. We´ve got some strong personalities and we clash enough as it is. The whole 'who´s doing who and then isn´t' is not really helpful."

Rachel

"Relationship drama," Rachel nodded. "I'm sure it comes as no surprise that we've dealt with that, too. But luckily it hasn't seemed to affect anything overall." Everyone still showed up to practice on time and ready to work. If Rachel had to spritz Kate or Ellie with some ice water, it happened and then they moved on. "I don't envy the fact that you have more personalities than us in which to deal," Rachel added, though she kept which specific personalties she wouldn't want to deal with to herself.

Jessi 

Jessi nodded. It wasn´t exactly easy, but deep down she loved all of those girls, even Serena in a way, and she simply wanted things to work out. Not just Warblettes´ wise, but also relationship wise. Not everyone had to be as unlucky as she was. She leaned back in her seat, glancing over at Rachel. "I´m sure it´ll blow over soon enough. It always does. We´ll just have to get through it." The corners of her lips twitched lightly. "Or land a tour and leave all the drama behind."

Rachel

With a final pull at her straw, Rachel drained the remaining coffee from her cup. She placed her palms along the table and edged her chair back a bit, too. She figured even if their dispositions were cheery, and this meeting had gone well so far, there wasn't a need to extend it when the given the ultimate reason for it in the first place. "Well I, for one, hope you land something here, because you know I've always enjoyed your performances." Whether they led to a bathroom or bedroom rendezvous or not. "And I hope to continue to enjoy them, J."

Jessi

Jessi glanced at Rachel, lips curving into another smile. Not quite as genuine as the last one, but Rachel wouldn´t notice. "I did enjoy your performances as well. You´ll get  a gold star from me." She gave the other a wink before opening her bag to pull out the key, giving it a last look before putting it back onto the table. "And I´ve decided that this is for you to keep. It´s yours after all. Feel free to throw it into the Hudson or somewhere else it can´t be found, but it would be wrong to give it to someone else. I´ll just have a new one made." Jessi then spoke before getting up from her chair. "I´ll see you around, Rach." Another wink before she was off towards the door, glad that this was over. For now.

Rachel

"Later, J." 

Café Blossom on Carmine Street is vastly different from its older sister in Chelsea. The beige brick and mortar interior is starkly reminiscent of an old, industrial warehouse that’s been prettied up with hardwood floors and decorated with colorful photographs of flowers. Actually, it reminds Rachel a little of the loft that she and Kurt had shared when they’d first moved to New York—but nicer. The square marble tables and skeletal metal chairs sharply contrast the warm, dark wood that features in the original restaurant and gives the café a decidedly modern, if slightly colder, feel, but aesthetic differences aside, the café is every bit as vegan as the one that she and Quinn had patronized just a month ago, only this time, her definitely-not-a-date ‘date’ is Kurt.

The fact that he’d actually suggested coming here—to a vegan restaurant—for lunch of his own volition, even offering to pay, is what tells Rachel that he’s reached the end of his patience with her persistent evasion of him (and all of her friends who are not aware of Quinn) over the last several months. She’s reluctantly accepted that she has to bite the bullet and spend some quality time with her best friend.  

Rachel tugs off her gloves as she follows the hostess to a tiny table for two tucked into a corner at the rear of the restaurant where Kurt is already seated, perusing the menu. He glances up when she reaches the table.  “Well, hello stranger,” he drawls, mild irritation underlying the humor in his tone as he stands to greet her.

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Hello, Kurt,” she says before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She pulls away with a polite smile as she unbuttons her coat, shrugging it off her shoulders as Kurt moves to help her out of it completely. He’s become quite the gentleman since he’d started working for Vogue full time, rubbing elbows with fashion bigwigs and models on a daily basis.

“How are you? How’s Blaine?” she asks, genuinely interested, as she watches Kurt drape her coat over the back of the chair before pulling it out for her.

“We certainly can’t complain,” he answers good-naturedly, waiting for Rachel to sit before he moves to reclaim his own seat. “I’m happily diving into the spring fashions for the magazine,” he informs her with a grin, “and Blaine is on his second callback for an original workshop that’s supposed to begin in the spring.”

“That’s wonderful,” Rachel gushes, smiling at the good news. She really hope Blaine gets the role. His success in the theater has been a slow, painful process—slower than Rachel’s had been—and she can’t help but feel for him.

“Fingers crossed,” Kurt responds, making a show of crossing his own. “The more pressing question, Ms. Berry, is how are you?” he asks playfully.  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d been permanently imprisoned in the Imperial Theatre, chained to your makeup chair by an evil production manager,” he teases, but Rachel can’t miss the hurt feelings that bubble under the surface of the joke.

She shakes her head at his dramatics. “It hasn’t been that long since you’ve seen me,” she argues, picking up her menu. She can feel Kurt’s speculative gaze heavy on her, but she stubbornly refuses to meet it again, afraid that he might see the guilt shining in her eyes over the huge secret that she’s been keeping at Quinn’s request. This is exactly why she’s been avoiding these one-on-one situations as much as possible.

“Not since New Year’s Eve,” Kurt informs her, “and we had a roomful of people between us for most of the night.”

Rachel briefly glances up at him then. “Oh? Has it been that long?” she asks breezily, knowing full well that it has been. Kurt’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and Rachel pointedly drops her own back to the menu. “The tofu BLT looks interesting,” she murmurs in an attempt to change the subject. “What are you having?”

“Don’t attempt to distract me with food, Rachel Berry,” Kurt chastises mildly. “I’ve known you for ten years, and I don’t think I’ve ever gone more than three days without hearing every embellished detail of your life. So when nearly a month goes by with nothing but impersonal texts and two minute phone tag messages, I’m naturally concerned.”

Rachel feels another wave of guilt crash over her, and she sighs, gently setting down her menu. “I’m sorry, Kurt,” she offers sincerely. “I know I’ve been a little unavailable lately,” she admits, averting her eyes. “I’ve just been so incredibly busy.”

It’s not an outright lie. She has been busy—busy hiding the fact that Quinn Fabray is back in her life and that Rachel is falling for her so fast, practically bursting at the seams to tell someone other than Stephanie about Quinn and the amazing kiss that they’d shared. But she can’t.

“Busier than your normal busy?” Kurt challenges with a skeptical frown.

“Just busy,” Rachel mutters evasively, tracing her fingertips along the edge of the menu and praying that Kurt will just let it go.

Thankfully, they’re interrupted by the waitress, who recites the lunch specials and takes their drink orders before leaving them to look over the menu for a few more minutes, but the temporary distraction doesn’t deter Kurt for very long.

“Rachel, honey, what are you up to?” he asks almost as soon as they’re alone again.

“Why would you think I’m up to anything?” Rachel counters with well-practiced indignation.

Kurt’s eyebrows rise suspiciously. “For one thing, you’re avoiding eye contact.”

Rachel forces her gaze to meet Kurt’s once again, feeling a flush of shame inch up her neck because she knows he’s right. “I...I’m sorry. I suppose I just have a lot on my mind.” It’s true in a way, she supposes. She can’t stop thinking about Quinn.

Lord, how she wants to tell Kurt everything! But Quinn isn’t ready to face anyone from her painful past, and she might never forgive Rachel for spilling her secret without her permission. Somehow that’s become more important than the possibility that Kurt might not forgive her for keeping it.

Kurt’s eyes soften as he studies Rachel’s face. “I have time to listen,” he promises gently.

The offer makes Rachel feel even worse about everything she’s been keeping from him. “I appreciate that, Kurt, but...it’s not something I’m at liberty to discuss at the moment.”

Kurt sits back in his chair, frowning in muted concern. “Well, that’s not at all ominous.”

Rachel sighs. “I promise that it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Kurt tilts his head thoughtfully. “Is it a new, secret project? Oh,” he gasps, eyes flashing with sudden excitement as he leans forward. “Are you leaving The Devil Wears Prada for another show?” he asks, barely managing to keep his voice down. “Or are you breaking into television? Tell me you’re not planning to go all Hollywood on me.”

Rachel laughs a little at that, shaking her head. “No. Of course not.” At least, not anytime soon, she silently adds, thinking not only of her promising Broadway career but of Quinn, who’s put down roots in New Jersey to be closer to Beth. “My contract with the show goes through the end of April, and they want to me to extend it,” Rachel confides with a pleased grin. She’s going to do it, too, despite the fact that it will keep her from another Tony nomination until she eventually (hopefully) gets cast in another eligible role. She’s still too in love with Andy and her cast to leave just yet.

“So...not a professional secret,” Kurt reflects, leaning back in his chair and bringing his hand up to his mouth to tap his finger against his lips in silent consideration.  

“Kurt, please let it go,” Rachel begs softly.

“Personal then,” he realizes with a wicked grin, dropping his hand back to the table top. “Rachel Berry, are you romancing someone new?”

“N-no,” Rachel denies hastily. “Why would you think that?”

“Besides the tellingly anxious expression on your face right now?” he tosses back easily. “There’s the fact that you turned down my last three attempts to set you up with someone.”

Rachel’s anxiety immediately transforms into annoyance, and she scowls at Kurt, reminding him, “The last person you set me up took me to a steakhouse and then made me pay for both our dinners after talking about himself for three hours.”

Kurt looks immediately regretful. “I’ve already apologized for Ted. He really did seem like he could be your type…apart from his dietary preferences.”

“Well, he wasn’t,” Rachel complains, grimacing at the memory of her last blind date. Truthfully, she could have accepted his love of meat, and she would have happily split the bill with him if he hadn’t been a self-centered bore. It really should bother her that Kurt thinks that might be her type, but then she’s forced to silently concede that having a dating history that includes so many egomaniacal actors (and actresses) probably doesn’t help her case. Sadly, Ted hadn’t even had the excuse of being a fellow thespian.

“There’s a very attractive woman at Blaine’s school who apparently appreciates the fairer sex,” Kurt informs her not-so-innocently.

“Kurt,” she warns.

“She teaches English,” he continues unimpeded, “and she’s blonde.”

“I’m not interested,” Rachel grits out as her mind calls up the image of the only blonde that she is currently interested in.  

Kurt’s eyes narrow.  “There is someone, isn’t there?”

Pursing her lips, Rachel takes a calming breath and attempts to school her features before looking Kurt directly in the eyes. “I assure you that I’m not seeing anyone new.”

It’s the truth.

Quinn isn’t new.  And they aren’t seeing one another in the romantic sense.

Yet.

In the face of her impeccable acting skills, Kurt has no choice but to believe her, and he actually looks disappointed by her answer. But then he gasps again, eyes wide. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” he asks sharply.

“No!” Rachel practically screeches, shocked that he would even question that. Okay, maybe she did indulge in a few too many sweets over the holidays, but she’s certain that the extra pound (or two) doesn’t make her look pregnant! “Of course I’m not!”  

Kurt’s shoulders sag in relief, and he nods slightly. “And you’re not getting back together with Riley?” he checks cautiously, having already voiced his concerns about that possibility after Rachel had told him several months ago that they were back on speaking—well, texting—terms.

“I’m not,” she assures him.

“Good. She never deserved you,” he tells her with a shake of his head, and Rachel vaguely wonders what his opinion will be on Quinn when she eventually tells him about her.

“You’d tell me if you were any kind of trouble, wouldn’t you?” Kurt asks softly after a moment, and the concern in his voice warms Rachel’s heart even as it turns her stomach acrid around the heavy secret that she’s been forced to swallow down.

“I would. And I’m not,” she promises around the tightness in her throat.

Kurt silently studies her for another long moment before he sighs in resignation. “Then I suppose I’ll have to let you have your secret,” he concedes. “For now.”