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There's something about Rachel Berry.
Cassandra notices it in the way that Rachel's back straightens immediately when she enters the studio (ten minutes late, because she likes to make the freshmen squirm on the first day of class). She notices it in the way that Rachel's eyes follow her every move, and how it looks like she's filing away every word and breath that comes out of Cassandra's mouth for future reference.
There's something about Rachel Berry, an endless optimism and a confidence in her own talent, and it's something that absolutely infuriates Cassandra from the start. That kind of arrogance ruins lives, and she won’t allow it to fester in her own classroom. A thousand Rachel Berrys have entered this room before, and there will be a thousand more after, and not one of them has or will ever have half the chance at success that they think they will. It’s Cassandra’s job to break them down. That way, when they fail out in the real world, they’ll have a lot less farther to fall.
So she she calls Rachel “Little Miss David Schwimmer” and she focuses the brunt of her ire on the girl for the first few weeks of class. In the end, she’s doing Rachel a favor by knocking her down a few pegs.
What she doesn’t expect is the way that Rachel keeps climbing right back up.
xx
The Oops…I Did It Again performance is...certainly something. It makes perfectly clear that Rachel’s voice is every bit as special as she already thinks it is; irritating, to say the least. But it also shows that Rachel isn’t actually listening to a single thing that Cassandra says. She thinks she already has it all figured out—she doesn’t need Cassandra’s help. But her weird fetishized role play tells a different story.
The sad part is that Rachel is a beautiful girl. Cassandra may have a point to prove, but she isn’t blind. It's that being sexy isn’t about being provocative, and that’s what Rachel doesn't understand yet.
She’s playing at being a big girl, so Cassandra intends to show her just what that means. She attacks Rachel’s confidence one more time, watches every blow land in Rachel’s most vulnerable places. The way that Brody stands behind her, pathetically silent, only adds fuel to her fire. Each word is a weapon that has been perfectly sharpened by years of practice. After all, she has hurled enough insults at herself over the years to ensure that an eighteen-year-old girl stands no chance of survival against her.
But when Rachel finally grows a backbone and lashes out, she does it in such a precise and biting way that she must have some experience of her own. It stings more than Cassandra thought it would, but she's become exceptionally good at burying those emotions with something much uglier.
Unfortunately, kicking Rachel Berry out of her class doesn't take the sting of truth away. A half bottle of rum later that evening will do the trick, though.
xx
Admittedly, lashing out at Cassie July is not one of Rachel's better moments. It really doesn't make any sense to her why this woman should be able to get under her skin so easily when she dealt with years of bullying from the likes of Quinn and Santana. There's just something about a critic that makes Rachel determined to keep fighting until she wins them over. Cassie is her worst critic by far, but this is a hardship that Rachel intends to overcome with patience and perseverence.
She needs this class in order to graduate, and there is a part of her that feels a little bit bad about what she said. So she goes to grovel. Cassie is predictably cold at first, but then she starts talking about things that make her seem human. It dawns on Rachel suddenly that the two of them may be more alike than she first realized. She was willing to send Sunshine to a crack house in order to protect her spot in glee club. Maybe Cassie's struggle is that she just wanted things too much. That’s something that Rachel can understand perfectly.
When Cassie motions for Rachel to come over and help her stretch, Rachel hesitates. On the one hand, Cassie is built like an athlete and Rachel’s not entirely convinced that she's not about to get her ass kicked. On the other, Cassie is also absurd beauty makes Rachel nervous in a way that she doesn't really care to examine at this time. In the end, Rachel does what she's told. She's really in no position to be refusing anything when she's still begging to be let back into class.
She applies light pressure to the taut leg in front of her—she doesn't know how stretched out Cassie is yet, and accidentally hurting her would be a total fucking catastrophe. But Cassie reaches up and places a hand over hers, softer than she was expecting, even while it demands more pressure of her. The firmness of her muscled leg coupled with the warmth generated by the proximity of their bodies makes something waylaid thought from earlier resurface. She definitely thinks Cassie is hot, so. That’s confusing.
Suddenly, Cassie is on her front, motioning for Rachel to press down on her back. Rachel is sure that she's saying something important, but it's a little difficult to concentrate when her hands are splayed against the smooth plane of Cassie's back and those green eyes are boring into hers through the mirror. She’s trying to figure out how she can be attracted to a person she doesn’t think she actually likes that much, which then causes her quickly sift through every interaction she’s ever had with Quinn, Brittany, and Santana. Has she been mistaking sexual tension for female jealousy this entire time?
It isn't until she's informed that NYADA's school policy has saved her ass from being kicked out of class that she snaps back to reality. Relief floods her chest. She has a chance to prove herself once more.
It’s still not enough to distract her from the fact that Cassie's ass is suddenly directly in front of her face and looking immaculate in those pants, but she'll take what she can get.
xx
She makes Rachel sit out for two weeks while they practice the tango, and Rachel does so without complaint, which is a new development that Cassandra wasn’t expecting, but it doesn’t change her decision.
On a Tuesday, she has to double back after class because she forgot her coffee cup. When she cracks open the studio door, she finds Rachel there, practicing her posturing all by herself. Rachel doesn't notice her, and so she takes the opportunity to quietly observe.
Rachel is relentless in her practice. If she makes even the tiniest mistake in her movements, she starts all over again, face set in a deeper expression of determination each time. It makes something sharp dislodge in Cassandra's chest, and so she retreats without comment or her coffee cup.
The following day, she asks one of her best male students to take Rachel as his dance partner.
xx
Being allowed to participate in class again hasn't stopped Rachel from staying for a few hours afterwards to keep practicing. For reasons that she doesn't care to examine, Cassandra starts joining her in the studio to practice as well, rather than doing it in the late afternoon like she normally does.
The first time Cassandra makes her presence known, Rachel nearly jumps ten feet into the air.
"Miss July!" she exclaims breathlessly, actually clutching at her heart like this is some sort of stage drama. Cassandra raises an eyebrow at her and Rachel's cheeks flush even darker. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would need this room right now, and—"
"Can it, Schwimmer," she says, stemming the tide of whatever tirade Rachel is about to embark upon. Rachel's mouth snaps shut immediately and she watches Cassandra with wide eyes. "I think the studio is big enough for the both of us, don't you?"
Rachel nods vehemently, but rather than resuming her practice, she stares mutely at Cassandra as she walks over to the piano and drops her bag. Cassandra can still see her staring a few moments later while she's warming up in front of the mirror. She meets Rachel's eyes in the glass and raises an eyebrow. Rachel blushes furiously and hastily goes back to her own work.
xx
Living in New York is not as romantic as Rachel always imagined it would be. She kind of had this idea in her head that she would get here and run into some exceedingly handsome man on the train and they’d basically star in their very own romcom. Or maybe she’d have some sort of passionate affair with a fellow co-star once she got cast in her first production, and they’d try to keep it a secret for a while so as not to jeopardize the show, but their connection would be too strong to fight it off. Or maybe Finn would show up at her door one day, lean and fit from the army, and he’d pick her up like she was weightless and kiss her against the wall of her apartment until she was breathless from it.
None of those things have happened. She has Brody, who is as close to a co-star as she’s going to get right now. He’s extremely attractive, but he’s just not pushing her buttons the right way (and God, there must be something wrong with her, because he's as dumb and hot as they come, which is exactly her type). She likes him, but there are just no sparks.
As for Finn...Rachel's not really sure where they stand. He doesn’t have a lot of time to talk while he’s completing his training in the Army. He writes her letters, and she tries to write back, but she gets busier and his letters get less frequent, and seeing his words written on paper doesn’t spark the same sort of starry-eyed love that she always felt when she saw him in the hallways at McKinley. They’re technically still together (she thinks), but it’s weird to be so distant from someone that she loves when all she wants is to be swept up in the passion of it all.
All of this is to say nothing of the fact that recently, when Rachel squeezes her eyes shut at night and thinks really hard about what she wants, there’s one person that consistently intrudes. Cassie July is plaguing Rachel’s most intimate thoughts like a parasite. She keeps imagining a thousand scenarios in which she does something so spectacular that Cassie congratulates her on it and immediately takes back all of the nasty things she’s ever said. Rachel forgives her, of course, and then they become fast friends, supporting each other’s careers. Maybe Rachel helps Cassie make her big Broadway comeback. Maybe Cassie just drives Rachel to become one of the best dancers the world has ever seen.
This train of thought quickly devolves into sweaty dance practices that end in tension-laced holds where they pant from their exertion and stare into each other’s eyes like magnets until Cassie is overcome with lust and kisses Rachel senseless. In Rachel’s mind, it’s the best kiss she’s ever had.
In reality, they dance separately every day after class. Usually, they don't even speak to one another. But there is this thick tension in the air that Rachel can't describe as she spends the majority of her time pretending not to watch Cassie work. The worst part is, she's pretty sure that Cassie is spending most of her time pretending not to watch Rachel work, too. And she's not really sure what to do with that information.
xx
"You're too tentative, Schwimmer."
Rachel nearly falls flat on her face in the middle of a turn and has to catch herself on the barre. She and Cassie haven't spoken to one another during these practice sessions in weeks, so her clear voice echoing through the room completely throws Rachel off balance. Cassie is already standing in front of her by the time she's steadied herself.
"Dance is about being bold. Confident. You have to know what you want and take it, no exceptions." She's standing a lot closer than Rachel thinks is strictly necessary, and her shampoo invades Rachel's sense with a heady floral scent. She moves a fraction of a step closer and Rachel has to refrain from stepping back. "Tell me Schwimmer, without thought or hesitation," she says, voice low, "what's one thing you want to do right now that you're too afraid to do?"
Rachel opens her mouth to answer, then catches the glint in Cassie's eye that says this is a test. And so instead of saying I really want to kiss you, she surges forward and does it instead.
She knows she's passed when Cassie's fingers thread through her hair and her other hand digs into Rachel’s hips. Rachel was right: this is by far the best kiss she’s ever had. Cassie takes control, towering over Rachel as she consumes her, pressing her back against the wall with a relentless mouth. Rachel gasps at the heat that ignites in her belly, heart pounding as adrenaline floods her system.
Cassie rips her mouth away and Rachel’s head tips back against the window as she tries to gain control of her sense. Their breath is heavy between them. Cassie’s eyes are dark and unfocused. Rachel can’t read them, can’t tell what’s about to happen next, but she knows that she doesn’t want Cassie to move away.
“Cassie,” Rachel whispers hoarsely, but she doesn’t even know what to ask for.
Her voice snaps Cassie out of whatever haze she’s trapped in. Her eyes close for a moment and she sucks in a hard breath before stepping back. Rachel can only watch as she grabs her things from the piano and retreats without another word or glance in her direction. And with Cassie removed from her immediate space, Rachel is suddenly left alone with weight of whatever the fuck just happened.
xx
So.
Making out with a student is possibly not one of her best ideas. In her defense, Rachel did initiate, but Cassandra knew what she was doing when she goaded Rachel into it, and she knew what she was doing when she pressed Rachel against the nearest solid surface to continue the kiss. She knows exactly how far she would have taken it, had she not come to her senses when she did.
There’s no real explanation for how this happened. She’s been spending weeks glancing at Rachel, observing her during class, watching her skill and confidence improve right before her eyes. It’s clear that all Rachel wants, more than anything, is to gain Cassandra’s approval. And Christ above, for some completely inexplicable reason, that knowledge gets to her.
Cassandra pushes and Rachel pushes back, and it’s not even born out of defiance anymore, but instead out of respect. Which is the part that’s truly fucking with her. Rachel challenges her out of respect, like they’re some kindred spirits reflecting every facet of one another, beautiful and terrible alike. Cassandra feels it, too. Rachel is one of the most insufferable people she knows, stuck at the forefront of Cassandra's mind like a dark spot in her vision obtained from staring at the sun for too long.
Rachel doesn't stay after class for three whole days. It gets to the point that Cassandra starts to wonder if maybe she’s remembering the entire scenario wrong. Did she do something that Rachel didn’t want her to? When Rachel finally does decide to stay, she's quiet for a good ten minutes after the rest of the students leave the class before Cassandra finally decides to break the silence.
"Look, Schwimmer, about what happened the other day…"
"I don't think it was a good idea," Rachel blurts out suddenly, as if she'd been holding that in for the past several days and the pressure of not speaking for once in her life built up to such a point that she just couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. Cassandra's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline and Rachel blushes. "It was very unprofessional of both of us to allow that to happen, Miss July, not to mention the fact that I have a boyfriend."
Cassandra's eyes narrow at that, and she can't help the nastiness that bubbles up into her throat like a gag reflex. She’s definitely not remembering things wrong. Rachel initiated that kiss, and now she wants to try to pin this on her?
"Okay, first of all, I wasn’t offering to do it again. There’s nothing in this world that would make me want to subject myself to the torture of your sopping wet fish mouth for one single second longer than I already have." Rachel looks like she's been slapped, and it should be enough, but there's still more venom in Cassandra's mouth that needs to be spit before it burns through her. "Second, I was doing you a favor. You dance like a sexually repressed religious cult member who’s never even held hands. You were practically wetting yourself over that kiss, Schwimmer, and now that you’ve had the tiniest bit of tension released, your body can actually move with some fluidity instead of flopping around the studio like you usually do."
Rachel's eyes well up with tears, and Cassandra can't decide if she wants the satisfaction of seeing her cry or not. But Rachel doesn't cry. Instead, she juts her chin out, nods curtly, and stalks out of the room.
With each echoing footstep, Cassandra feels regret drive a little deeper like nails into her chest.
xx
Rachel still stays after class. She's faced plenty of adversity before, and she's not going to allow Cassie's awful attitude to stop her from living up to her promise to be the best she's ever seen. If anything, she's more determined now than she was before.
But they stay far, far away from each other. Cassie almost never comes over to adjust her posture in class. She settles instead for sending scathing criticism in Rachel's direction, and nothing more. They don't acknowledge each other during their practice time at all.
Meanwhile, Rachel tries out for the NYADA spring production. She doesn't get the lead, but she does get a small speaking part and she has a solo, which is mostly unheard of for a freshman. So she’s doing okay.
The musical takes up most of her time now, with practices running until sometime past midnight most days. It's exhausting, but she's not going to complain. Still, it means that she's spending a little less time in the dance studio these days. The only indication that Cassie notices is that she makes some venomous remark in class one day that Rachel's other commitments must be important enough for her to risk looking like a disabled monkey when she dances. Rachel has mostly learned to block it out by now.
She does decide to stay after class on Wednesday this week because she feels as if her lack of practice is starting to show, and she's got a little bit more energy today than usual. Cassie doesn't acknowledge her presence as usual, which is fine. Rachel's hardly in the mood to get into another pissing match with her teacher.
Forty-five minutes in, though, Cassie does finally speak up.
"Does that belong to you?" she asks, gesturing to the door where a very large human being is peeking through the window.
"Finn!" Rachel squeaks, because what is he doing here?
She runs over and wrenches the door open, leaping into Finn's arms, which are much more muscular than before. He hugs her tightly and her heart aches from missing him. He is stronger and leaner now. When she looks him in the eyes, they twinkle with excitement, but there is a maturity there that never was before. He kisses her sweetly, laughs and sets her on the ground when they part.
"How did you get here?"
"I took the train," Finn says, like it should be obvious. "I wanted to come congratulate you on your part in the musical now that I'm finally done with training. Kurt told me how to get here; I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Consider me surprised," she laughs. "It's so good to see you, Finn."
She falls into his chest for another hug, head turned toward the studio. She can see Cassie looking at them through the mirror. Her face is neutral, but her eyes tell a different story. Rachel's stomach drops at the memory of what the two of them did in that studio. She didn't tell Finn. She doesn't know if she can.
"Let's get out of here and get something to eat," she says because she can't stand having this reunion with him in front of the woman that she cheated on him with.
xx
Kurt has gone to stay at a friend's house for the night to give them some privacy. She finds Finn watching a football game on the television and is simultaneously relieved and disappointed that some things never change.
It isn't until they're in bed making out, Finn groping at her breasts and trying to take her top off, that she realizes she no longer has any physical attraction to this man. He is hard and defined and still a little clumsy when he touches her. It is a stark contrast to Cassie, to her precision and the way Rachel could mold into her body.
"I kissed someone," she blurts into his ear while he sloppily kisses her neck. He rips his head away and looks into her eyes, immediately incredulous, and this is the Finn she remembers so well.
"What?"
Rachel scoots away from him, her face full of shame.
"Finn, I'm so sorry."
"How could you do that to me, Rachel?" He's angry now. His face grows red and blotchy with emotion.
"It honestly had nothing to do with you, Finn," Rachel says, voice small and sad. They're not in high school anymore. She loves him, but she's not in love with him. She wishes should could have realized it before. "I didn't plan it. I didn't do it to hurt you. It just happened."
For a few seconds his eyes remain hard with anger and she thinks that he'll probably get up and storm out. But he surprises her, instead deflating with a heavy sigh. He looks…tired. She understands then how much he's changed—that while she's been gradually falling out of love with him in New York, he's been gradually falling out of love with her, too.
"So I guess that's it," he says quietly a few minutes later, and it's so anticlimactic that she feels tears spring to her eyes.
"Yeah," is all she can choke out.
He holds her for a moment while as she cries, and then he gathers his things to leave.
"Good luck, Rachel. Keep in touch."
"You too," she says, voice watery.
The door closing behind him is so final. The end of an era. Rachel cries herself to sleep.
xx
Rachel collapses to the ground, sobbing right in the middle of their practice session. Cassandra immediately rushes to her side--she's not totally heartless. And if Rachel's injured herself being an idiot, she'll need a trip to the hospital.
"What happened? Where does it hurt?" Cassandra asks brusquely, hands searching Rachel's legs for any immediate signs of injury.
Rachel sobs harder than Cassandra has ever seen anyone cry, and puts a hand over her heart, clutches at her chest like she might try to rip it out. It doesn't take much to put the pieces together. Cassandra's mind is plagued with an image of her sixteen-year-old self curled up in a ball in the middle of her bed, crying over a boy who betrayed her trust (just two days after he took her virginity).
She sighs, sits on the floor against the wall and urges Rachel closer. It's not hard. Rachel folds into her body and cries as if there will be no end to her tears. Cassandra strokes her hair and waits.
Some time later, Rachel says, "I told my boyfriend our kiss,". Her voice is worn and her eyes are red and swolen. Her head rests in Cassandra's lap. "We broke up. I'm sure it's for good this time."
"Sorry, Schwimmer," Cassandra says. She's not really that sorry. She could tell just by looking that Rachel's destiny is bigger than that oaf. But she's trying her best to be supportive. "Was it because of that?"
"No," Rachel replies confidently. "I don't love him anymore. What happened between you and I only confirmed that."
Cassandra doesn't know what she can say that won't sound completely cliché and idiotic, so she stays silent and continues stroking Rachel's hair. Rachel suddenly lifts her head, and now her eyes are level with Cassandra's, and very close. Her breath is hot—it smells like coffee. She is pretty, even in this disheveled state.
"Why are you being nice to me all of the sudden?" she asks suspiciously.
But Cassandra doesn't know the answer. She doesn't know why Rachel is the most annoying, infuriating girl she's ever met, and yet she feels compelled to be near her, to interact with her even if it means being an adversarial asshole. She doesn't know why she's letting this girl get under her skin.
Rachel nods like she understands, like she can read her mind or something. She leans forward and brings their lips together. It's soft and tentative, the kind of kiss that Cassandra is not comfortable subjecting herself to when she can barely keep her shit together as it is. She leans in to increase the pressure. Rachel pulls back and exhales against her lips.
"Can we be done fighting? I'm tired," she pleads, and the circles under her eyes are not the tired she's talking about.
Me too, Cassandra thinks. I've been tired for the past decade. But she's not sure if she remembers how to put down her weapons. Maybe that’s what Rachel’s been trying to teach her all along.
"Yes," Cassandra answers firmly, and presses forward until Rachel is lying on the floor and arching up into every molten kiss.
xx
The first time they meet outside of the dance studio is purely by accident. It's at a coffee shop, of course. Because where else would they have in common but the local café? Rachel is studying for her music theory test on Monday. Cassie is fueling up. They only notice each other after Cassie has made her way through the mile-long line and retrieved her americano.
"Fancy meeting you here, Schwimmer," she says, startling Rachel out of her thorough note highlighting process. The nickname is said with the barest hint of affection now, rather than malice. She sits down across from Rachel uninvited—not that Rachel thinks Cassie July ever needed an invitation.
"Hello, Cassie," Rachel finally replies, straightening out of her study hunch. Cassie's green eyes glint with satisfaction when Rachel calls her by name, her smirk stretching almost imperceptibly. "How are you?"
"I'm not big on pleasantries, Schwimmer," Cassie replies. "What are you doing?"
"I have a music theory exam on Monday that I'm studying for," Rachel says.
Cassie rolls her eyes. "Boring."
"True as that may be, it's still a required course at NYADA," Rachel reminds her.
"It's only Friday," Cassie says. "You have plenty of time to study over the weekend." Rachel raises an eyebrow in question, but Cassie closes Rachel's notebook and stands up. "Come on," she urges, and Rachel has little choice but to follow her out of the coffee shop.
"Where are we going?" Rachel finally asks when they're underground waiting for the train.
Cassie smiles, a dangerous thing that makes Rachel's stomach flip. "Care to visit SoHo?"
And that’s how her Friday afternoon of studying turns into a Friday evening of gripping at a set of 1,500 thread count sheets while Cassie goes down on her until she sees stars.
xx
She's pretty sure they're not dating, but then again she's never done anything quite like this, so she can't be certain. What she does know is that she's spending less of her free time in the dance studio these days and more time in Cassie's loft.
They don’t really go out to dinner or to see a show together, which Rachel expects they might do if they were actually dating. But sometimes they watch television on the couch, and when Rachel puts her head on Cassie's shoulder, Cassie lets her. Sometimes Rachel spends the night, and when she does, she always wakes up to a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of tofu scrambler. There are even times when Rachel wakes up in the middle of the night to find Cassie cradling her from behind, her soft, even breaths ghosting across the back of Rachel's neck.
So she's pretty sure they're not dating. But Rachel is a lot more okay with that than she ever thought she would be.
xx
It’s the beginning of December when Cassandra stops by a coffee shop to order her morning fix, and out of reflex she spouts off Rachel’s order instead of her own. Her blood freezes in her veins as soon as she realizes what’s just happened, and it takes the barista several tries to get Cassandra’s attention again. She quickly changes her order to an americano and spends the rest of her journey to work tracing the threads of her relationship with Rachel and realizing just how entwined she’s allowed herself to become.
Not only is Rachel her student, but she’s almost half Cassandra’s age, probably fast-tracking her way to fame in the next couple of years, and here Cassandra is remembering her coffee order by heart and feeling her chest swell up at the mere thought of seeing Rachel that morning. What kind of midlife crisis has she allowed herself to spiral into? What wreckage will be left behind when all of this inevitably falls apart?
The thought puts her in a foul mood, and when Rachel's smiling face walks into her studio that morning, she feels her fury ignite.
"Schwimmer, you looked like a pregnant cow just now," she says very loudly only five minutes into class. Rachel falters and blinks at her stupidly over her dance partner's shoulder. "You know, I would have expected you to get better at this since you’re in the musical now. Seems like you're determined to be the biggest disappointment I've ever had in this class."
It goes on like that for the entire class, and the fact that Rachel takes it all in stride just infuriates Cassandra more. Why the fuck won't Rachel just fight back, give Cassandra a reason to kick her out of class so she can start getting this girl out of her system? But she doesn't. She keeps on dancing, even as Cassandra's insults get more and more brutal, more personal. She ends class with a particularly nasty comment about Rachel's nose, which she knows is a sore spot.
Rachel storms up to her after everyone has left, and she even looks cute when she's angry, which is just fucking ridiculous.
"What is your problem?" she hisses, and Cassandra can see the hurt in her eyes. Rachel obviously thought they were past this.
"You didn't think this little fling would last forever did you? I'm done with you, Schwimmer. I need someone who can keep up with me, in the studio and the bedroom," Cassandra says scathingly. It's a low blow, really, and complete bullshit, but Rachel is insecure enough to believe it.
"You're just a pathetic, washed up wannabe. And one day when you're too old to do anything about it, you're going to realize just how lonely you are, and you're going to wish you weren't such a hateful bitch to everyone who ever tried to get close to you!" Rachel yells, storming off just as the tears spill over onto her cheeks.
Cassandra gets very, very drunk that night and lets herself cry for the first time in years.
xx
Kurt gets a job at Vogue, which somehow fits him so perfectly that it seems like it was always meant to be. They have one more night in New York, and then they're flying home for Christmas/Hanukkah break. Rachel has never been more excited to see Lima in her life.
She and her dads spend about an hour crying about how much they missed each other when she gets there. They grab dinner together and then spend the rest of the night watching musicals. It's the perfect homecoming. She didn't realize just how much she needed her fathers until she was sandwiched between them on the couch, warm and safe and free from insult.
She allows herself, briefly, to think of Cassie—wonder if she's going to celebrate the holidays, and how, and who with. Does she even have anyone who likes her enough to spend this time with her? The image of her sitting alone in her loft drinking Christmas margaritas and watching A Christmas Story marathons seems rather fitting to Rachel, really.
It hurts to lose a part of her life that she was enjoying so much. She thought that she was finally starting to get to know Cassie for real, not the aloof asshole that shows up to dance class every day hell bent on sucking the joy out of everyone’s lives. But maybe that is the real Cassie, and maybe Rachel was just deluding herself into believing that there’s something more. That they could be something more. Cassie appears to be damaged beyond her repair, and Rachel may need to just accept that and move on.
xx
She gets a call on the very last day of Hanukkah. She considers ignoring it for three whole rings, but then curiosity gets the better of her. She's had a good winter break so far and she's feeling pretty generous.
"Happy Hanukkah, Schwimmer."
Cassie's voice is hesitant, like she surprised herself by calling. Maybe even did it against her own better judgement.
"What do you want, Miss July?" Rachel snaps, and she can tell by the soft snort of breath on the other end that Cassie is deciding how to navigate this conversation in real time. There's silence for a few moments, long enough that Rachel considers hanging up, but then—
"I'm not good with feelings. If that isn’t already obvious by the state of my life. I don’t really know how to be...close to someone without pushing them away."
It's the first real personal admission that Cassie has made to her, and Rachel can tell that each word pains her. The fact that she's even making this concession is unbelievable. Still...
"I didn't hear an apology anywhere in there," Rachel says tersely. She's come too far to let another pretty blonde bully her and get away with it.
"It really sucks here without you," Cassie says, and damn it if she doesn't sound desperate. It's almost enough to make Rachel give in.
"Still waiting," Rachel says, and though her voice is serious, she can feel an involuntary smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Cassie sighs heavily.
"I'm sorry," Cassie says finally, painfully. It's a pathetic apology, but when she punctuates it with a soft really at the end, and Rachel believes she's sincere.
"Apology accepted," she acquiesces. "But Cassie, the insults have to stop. You can't keep being mean to me just because you can't deal with your own emotions. I deserve respect. Especially if we're going to be…"
She lets that last part hang; can almost feel Cassie's sigh of relief at the lack of definition.
"I know. I'm still working on my shit, okay? Take heart in knowing that the next fifteen years of your life won't magically transform you into an emotionally mature matriarchal figurehead."
Rachel chuckles. She imagines Cassie's little half smirk and revels in the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"I have to go light the candle for tonight," she says softly.
"Yeah, okay. Have fun. And…come back soon."
Rachel hangs up and immediately throws herself face down on the bed, rolling around with a huge, stupid smile on her face. She's pretty sure this means they're dating now, even if they don't call it that.
xx
December 25th is like any other day to Cassandra, except she never has to teach, so she usually gets drunk and watches It's a Wonderful Life on repeat. She hasn't celebrated Christmas since her parents died six years ago. She doesn't spare a thought for that bitch sister of hers that lives in one of those yuppie northern states--Vermont, maybe, but she doesn't care to know if that's right. There is no tree at her place, no lights, no garland. She doesn't receive any visitors.
Which is why she can't fathom for the life of her who the hell is knocking on her door at ten in the morning. It's not quite time for alcohol and movies, so the only thing that's being interrupted is her channel surfing, but still.
She opens the door to find Rachel, all bundled up and red-faced from the cold.
"Schwimmer," she says, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Rachel smiles sweetly. "Merry Christmas," she says, and hands over a brand new travel mug with a gold star on it and a red bow wrapped around it. "Yours is getting gross and the handle is broken. Gold stars are kind of my thing."
Cassandra feels a smile tug at her lips--another unexpected event this Christmas. She doesn't recall when she became someone who melts over small, thoughtful surprises. But for the first time in six years, she's not alone on Christmas. Maybe that changes some things.
"You're sweet." Rachel blushes, scuffs her foot on the floor. Cassandra feels something needy twist its way around her organs. "Come inside. You must be cold."
Rachel steps over the threshold and removes her coat and scarf and hat while Cassandra pours her a cup of coffee. They meet each other at the couch. Rachel thanks her for the coffee and they sit several inches apart.
"How was home?" Cassandra asks. She still doesn't do pleasantries, but she's trying.
"Home was great," Rachel replies, unusually brief. "But maybe the small talk can wait?"
And then she's closing the distance between them, thighs straddling Cassandra's waist as the weight of her settles into Cassandra's lap, pressing insistent kisses to her mouth. When her hands find purchase on Rachel's hips, Rachel whimpers--a quiet, muffled whine in the back of her throat--and the need twisting through Cassandra's abdomen unfurls.
This is much better than getting drunk and watching It's a Wonderful Life on repeat.
xx
Admittedly, they spend a lot of their break in bed, but they do other things, too. They visit FAO Schwarz, for instance, because Rachel has never been. She spends half an hour jumping singing and fooling around with a giant piano mat. Cassie pretends not to be amused, but she plays along and it's not long before they're laughing breathlessly together.
They take a walk through Central Park in the snow. Cassie is striking in a simple black coat, white scarf, and white knit hat and gloves. It's freezing, and even though Rachel's bundled up to the max, she still shivers. When Cassie notices, she puts an arm around Rachel's shoulders and draws her in close. They walk like that for the rest of the way, and Rachel feels like she might explode with happiness.
Cassie takes Rachel to her favorite pizza place, a hole in the wall that Rachel can hardly imagine Cassie frequenting. But she knows the employees there by name and laughs with them while she orders. The way her smile illuminates her face makes Rachel's breath stutter in her lungs.
Rachel spends the majority of the meal settling into the realization that she's irreparably in love with Cassandra July.
xx
They avoid Times Square for New Years. Cassandra would rather die than navigate that crowd, and Rachel agrees that she's content to stay inside where it's warm and they'll actually have a guaranteed view of the ball drop.
They drink a bottle of wine together, though Cassandra ends up drinking the majority of it because she realizes after two glasses that Rachel is a total lightweight. She's very energetic when she's drunk and somehow even more talkative than usual. It's a nice night, even though Rachel passes out at 11:30 and Cassandra has to rouse her awake at midnight.
"What? What's wrong?" Rachel asks groggily, and there's the tiniest bit of drool at the corner of her mouth. Cassandra smirks.
"Nothing," she says quietly. "Happy New Year, Schwim."
She kisses Rachel softly. The girl blinks twice and smiles sleepily.
"I love you," she says, and then passes out again.
Cassandra stills. She spends a few minutes staring at Rachel, grappling silently with her own emotions, before she gets Rachel up and helps her shuffle to bed. Cassandra kicks off her own own yoga pants, leaves her sweater on, and crawls in. Rachel rolls into her instinctively, and Cassandra wraps an arm around her without a second thought.
Cassandra thinks about the word 'love' and tries to put her finger on a definition. She doesn't know if she's ever been in love. Which is almost too sad to think about. She does know that when she looks at Rachel, she feels something warm and heavy bloom behind her rib cage. It's a feeling that is both enticing and terrifying. If that's love, then Cassandra is undoubtedly in a world of trouble.
xx
The musical opens in the middle of March. Rachel is positive she's going to throw up from excitement. Her fathers and Kurt are there. Finn sent her flowers and called to wish her luck. Quinn took the train down from New Haven. A ton of important people will likely see her. This is her first chance to really get her name out there.
Cassie meets her in the dressing room a few minutes before the show starts.
"Break a leg, Schwimmer," she says with a wink, hands Rachel a rose, and then disappears again. There is a small note attached, written with black ink in Cassie's slanted handwriting.
Schwimmer—You are the best I've ever seen. I love you.
Her heart slams into her rib cage as she reads and rereads the note, eyes scanning the letters over and over again as if she might absorb the ink directly into her retinas. Would that she could.
She has to work to steady herself. No matter what else is waiting for her after, the show must go on. And so it does--quite well, actually. She's met by a mob of people clamoring to congratulate her afterwards. Cassie meets her eye over the crowd, shoots her a wink, and leaves. They will meet up later for private congratulations, but for now everyone else wants to take Rachel out for dinner.
When it's all over and everyone has gone to their respective transportation home or to the hotel, Rachel hops on the train to SoHo. She barely has to knock before Cassie rips the door open, drags her inside. They exhaust themselves sometime around 2am, hopelessly tangled up in one another.
xx
"You really are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met," Cassandra observes on a random Saturday morning during breakfast. Rachel looks up from the pancakes that she’s currently inhaling.
"What?"
Cassandra leans back in her chair and fixes a curious gaze on her.
"So many people have given up on me. They watched me slink away and turn bitter and pretended to feel bad about it. But you kept coming back even when I did everything I could to kick you away. Why?"
Rachel contemplates that for a moment.
"Because I saw you. Even behind all of those walls you put up. I saw someone that I thought was worth trying for."
Cassandra exhales shakily, eyes soft as she looks at Rachel.
"I'm glad you stuck around, Schwimmer," she says, and Rachel's answering smile is brilliant.