Disclaimer:I don't own anything.

...

As Rachel was led through the mansion by Russell to the guest room being prepared, her mind wandered back to dinner. Her face formed a natural grin as she thought about the interactions she had with everyone at the table. She hummed cheerily to herself, eyes darting every which way, taking in the grand architecture of the Fabray manor.

Russell spoke up. "...I'm sorry, I'm a little disconcerted, that stuff between you and my daughter, it threw me." He frowned deeply, looking up at her with a troubled expression.

"'Threw' you?" She tilted her head, curios but lost. "Where?"

He shook his head with a sigh. "It's an expression. I meant that, uh, it shook me up, baffled me- I mean that you knew her and everything-"

Rachel interrupted him gently. "I do not know her, Russell. The young woman who's body I took knew her." She explained calmly. "The girl she met in the coffee shop this morning."

"So there's nothing between you and Quinn?"

Russell looked almost hesitant to ask, again prompting Rachel to muse over why people seemed so intimidated by her. Why did people fear death? She didn't know much, or anything really, about how people functioned- what emotions were, what they were for, how they worked, or...why she felt the way she did at dinner whenever her gaze met Quinn's.

When she took the young woman's body, thoughts of the blonde and their encounter at the coffee shop lingered around the young woman's psyche. Quinn was the last thing on the young woman's mind before Rachel took her. Incidentally, the blonde's beautiful face was the first thing Rachel 'saw' when she came to life, which was perhaps why she felt...odd around Quinn.

Ignoring the man's question, she asked one of her own. "Do you think Quinn and her friends found my company to be delightful?" she asked politely.

"...Uh, Sure." Rachel beamed at this. "But I wish you had said something to me about staying here-"

"It hadn't occurred to me until then. I was just having such a wonderful time - Besides, is this not what I am here for?"

Russell suddenly looks very anxious, causing Rachel to stop.

"You seem... uncomfortable, Russell"

"No, I'm okay with this- uh- I think-" He opens a door that leads to a very spacious bedroom, complete with its own bathroom. "There's the bathroom over there...it has tub...sauna...towels-"

Rachel eyes the bed thoughtfully.

Russell turns back to face her. "...Chair, lamp, bed-" He begins chatter on unconsciously. "Box springs, they're assembled in Jakarta. Had to stay in a station manager's house there unexpectedly- best night's sleep I ever had. Ordered twenty, they filled a container and shipped them right over, I've put one in every bedroom here and in the country."

Sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, Rachel tests the springs, bouncing lightly. "What a great idea!" She turns to him an awed smile. "This bed is...splendid!"

Russell glances around nervously. "If there is anything else you need, uh, don't hesitate -"

"I won't." She states, still bouncing joyously on the bed.

The man almost smiled at the site innocence of Rachel until he remembered just exactly who she was. "How long have I got?"

Stopping her bouncing, Rachel regards him with a serious look. "You are putting me on the spot, Russell." She pauses briefly, running a curious hand along the soft duvet. "...Let's put it this way. When I go, you go. When you go, I go. That's the best I can do...but minute-by-minute, I find myself... lingering."

"...I just saw my doctor, he told me everything was fine." He argued, almost helplessly.

"Your doctor?" She repeats softly. "Did your doctor say anything about a tiny, undetectable hole in your aorta? Did he mention an irreparably weak vein in the further reaches of your famous brain? Were there any prognostications about the possibililites of a fatal collision on a golf cart or suffocating in an avalanche on a skin vacation in Gstaad?"

He swallows with difficulty. "No."

"I hope you realize, Russell," Rachel looks him in the eyes, "...in your office this morning, that was your time."

Russell stands still, tears springing up at the young woman's revelation. Standing up from her perch, Rachel took in the wetness of the man's eyes and frowned inquisitively. "You are still here. Count your blessings. Call it, uh, gravy- frosting on the cake, whatever it is you humans say." She gave him a smile, quite liking how her cheeks tingled whenever she did.

"Well, thank you for letting me know." He cleared his throat, heading for the door. "And- uh- I guess, 'goodnight'."

"Good night to you, Russel." She waved at him, almost with a child like innocence. "And thank you." Turning away from him, Rachel looks attentively around the room, running her hands along every surface they could reach.

As the door closes behind her, signaling Russell's exit, she glaces at the closed door thoughtfully.

Rachel spends a joyous amount of time examining her room, full of curiosity and wonderment at the oddest things, the handle on a casement window, the hem and weight of the fabric of a drape, hinges on the bedroom door. In the process she opens the door, stepping out into the hallway. She begins to wander down the hallway past the occasional Dufy and Miro, a Venetian tapestry cheek-by-jowl with a miniature Ming vae, and even a Bonsai garden with a trickling vein of water.

She somehow finds herself in the very back of the house, utilitarian paint and decor, she pauses at the sound of laughter and a glare of light. Inquisitively, she enters the bright room, which turns out to be a large kitchen.

The staff is at ease in their environment, some smoking cigarettes, some snacking on remains of food scattered around a large counter. The butler, who has his back to Rachel does not see her for a moment. In front of him, there is an open jar of peanut butter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread. Rachel's absolutely fascinated by the process. Suddenly realizing the silence around him, the butler looks up and see the young woman, he stands up in embarrassment.

"Yes, ma'm?" he gives her a respectful bow.

Rachel grins obliviously at him. "Hello. I'm Rachel Berry. Nice to meet you."

"Yes, Ms. Berry, a pleasure."

The staff all mumble expansive "Good evening, ma'm"'s to Rachel. She beams at the staff, charmed at being acknowledged. "Nice to meet all of you as well."

The butler motions the rest of the staff to sit while he remains standing in front of the young woman. He shifts from foot-to-foot, nervously- the staff is not used to having Fabray family or guests in this part of the house.

Rachel examines the jar in his hand with an observant stare. "What is that you are eating?"

He clears his throat and raises regards his peanut butter sheepishly. "Laura Scudder's Peanut Butter."

"'Laura Scudder's Peanut Butter'." Rachel echoes, still eyeing the jar attentively. "Do you like it?"

"I would say, ma'm, it is right up there with Jif and Skippy." He smiles at the bewildered look on the young woman's face. "But miles ahead of Peter Pan."

"Could I-"

"Would you like a taste, Miss?" Rachel nods eagerly as the butler fashions her a spoonful, and offers it to her.

Rachel puts the entire spoonful in her mouth and swallows it. Choking briefly at the texture, her eyes water at the sensation. She has not yet found a comfortable way of masticating, her mouth and tongue go every which way as the staff observe her in complete fascination. Finishing her spoonful, she smacks her lips together in delight. Eagerly, she gestured for the jar, and plunges her spoon in the second he hands it to her.

"You're a peanut butter fan now, eh, miss?"

She nods enthusiastically, "Yes, I am! I thoroughly enjoy this peanut butter," she says, holding the jar with the utmost care. "And I thoroughly enjoyed meeting all of you." Rachel raises the spoonful of peanut butter in a kind of toast to the staff. "I'll be...heading along now."

Rachel exits with the spoon and jar of peanut butter clutched in her grasps, smiling at the cheerful "Goodnight, Miss Berry"'s, her tongue cravingly licking the edges of the spoon.

By the time she's halfway finished with the jar, Rachel finds herself in a room with spectacular indoor Olympic pool, window commanding views of the skyline. She stops as she catches sight of Quinn swimming laps, looking very professional in a black swimsuit. She wanders in closer, still licking her peanut butter. Rachel observes her quietly, though Quinn is unaware of her presence- however as the blonde makes a barrel turn- Rachel's shadow falls over a reflection from a window causing her to abort her lap, causing her to look up to see who it is.

Quinn gazes at her silently for moment before she turns away with a small huff. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm lost," Rachel responds honestly, looking down at her feet.

As Quinn climbs out of the pool, she gets halfway up the ladder before pointing to a stack of towels. "Hand me one of those, will you?" Rachel turns to the towels, but one hand is occupied with the spoonful of peanut butter, and the other with the jar. Quinn watches in befuddlement as Rachel hovered over the stack of towels with a confused look on her face. Finally, Rachel implants the spoon in her mouth, lifts the towel and presents it to the blonde with an adorably proud look on her face.

Quinn bit her lip and looked away to keep herself from doing something she might regret. "I-I can't seem to escape you today."

"I'm sorry." Rachel watched at the blonde dried herself off, brows furrowing at the strange feeling creeping up in the pit of her stomach.

"You must have something really big going on with my father-'

"Big?"

Quinn babbles on, oblivious to Rachel's burning gaze. "You appear at his side out-of-the-blue, stay at his house, eat dinner with his family, it's practically a first. You're in the red-hot center of big business and I thought you were just a regular girl." She finishes with a sad smile.

Rachel shoved a spoonful of peanut butter in her mouth. "I am a girl." She mumbled in confusion.

"Not the one I met this morning," Quinn's voice shook. "Hitting on me in the nicest way as I've been hit on in a long time, but the moment you find out I'm my Dad's daughter, you act like a stranger."

"That was not my intention." Rachel continues to nibble at her peanut butter, frowning at the sight of wetness in the corner of the blonde's eyes.

"What are your intentions?" The doctor questioned, looking up at Rachel with large watery eyes. "To make little dreams in coffee shops, turn a girl's head-," she looks away with a scoff, "-and I don't mind admitting my head was turned... I liked it...but ten hours later I feel like an idiot. I don't get it. My father, you here in this house, the coffee shop, it's making me upset, and I don't like being upset. Who are you? And... what in the world are you eating?"

"...Peanut butter." She finishes the spoonful. "But it's all gone now." Rachel lowers the spoon in the jar and starts to stick the whole thing in the pocket of her pants, before Quinn's quirked brow makes her realize that this is inappropriate and quite impossible a task.

Quinn holds her hand out to her, and Rachel happily places the jar in it and the doctor sets it on the table with the towels. She watches, fascinated, as Rachel licks her gums, enjoying every last bit of her spoonful. "You act like you never had peanut butter before."

"I haven't."

"What kind of childhood did you have?"

Rachel doesn't answer and looks down for a moment before taking a step closer to the doctor. Bringing her gaze back up, she watches Quinn's eyes flutter and hears how her breath hitches. She frowns deeply in thought. "Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?" the blonde asks lowly, licking her lips as the brunette stepped took another step towards her.

"Have you ever been in love?"

The blonde blinks in surprise at the question. "Come again?"

Shrugging naively, Rachel looked up at her with bright eyes. "Your father...he talks about it- love, like it's this wonderful thing...something you can't live without...something you shouldn't live without- and I've never known anything quite like what he describes."

Quinn couldn't help but recoil dejectedly at her words. "You've...never felt it? Not even anything close to it?" she asks, scared to hear that Rachel felt nothing for her at all.

The young brunette regards her silently, head tilted in thought. "I've felt...things," she muses, "But I can't seem to make sense of them, so, I was wondering if you have ever felt it...love...could you tell me what it is like? To be in love?"

Quinn thinks about Finn and everything they've been through, all the things they've shared and experienced as a couple. Then she thinks back to the coffee shop and how for a moment, true love seemed possible. "I...I d-don't think that's any of your business, Rachel." It comes out harsher than she had intended.

Her chest tightens as Rachel backs away from her, eyes heartrendingly wounded. "I'm sorry, Quinn...and I didn't mean to offend you at dinner. I'm not quite... at home sometimes with people. I get busy doing what it is that I do, and I don't seem to have developed-" she drifts off carefully.

"Yes?"

Deep chestnut eyes lock with her own, and Quinn ponders about how haunted those eyes look. "I have a certain function to perform, and that seems to take all of my time. But sometimes, uh- I speculate that... I haven't left room for... anything else." Rachel finishes awkwardly, looking up at her earnestly.

"I'm sorry to say I know what you're saying."

"Quinn?" Rachel once again comes towards her, making the doctor sigh internally at those puppy dog eyes. "I guess what I'm trying to say is- I'd like us to be... friends." She concludes with a hopeful smile.

"Friends?" the blonde asks, shaking her head in disbelief. 'I don't want to be just your friend,' Quinn thinks to herself before banishing those thoughts away. "I've got plenty of friends, Rachel."

"I don't have any." The brunette young woman offers naively.

"Well...I can see why." Turning away from those eyes, Quinn finishes drying herself off, drops the towel on a chair, and prepares to leave.

"Wait."

Quinn sighs. "What, Rachel?"

"Did you know you have a wet spot on your shoulder?"

The doctor glances at her shoulder just as Rachel grabs a towel, and with perhaps the softest touch, the brunette hovers shyly over the drops of water, patting them gently to dry.

Rachel hands Quinn the towel with small smile. "Goodnight to you, Quinn."

The blonde swallows heavily. "Goodnight, Rachel." She takes a step towards a door, and Rachel, taking a step in the wrong direction, causes them to almost walk into each other. Quinn flushes brightly, takes a step in another direction, as does Rachel, and again they almost collide. Rachel glances up completely puzzled, finally Quinn heads for one door while Rachel goes to another.

"Rachel-"

"Hmm?"

"I think you want to go to the west wing. Through there."

The young brunette smiles softly at her.

"Thank you."

Rachel redirects herself and goes to the door. As she's about to exit, Rachel looks back only to find Quinn staring at her, and the two look at each other from across the pool, both smiling sheepishly at catching each other's glances.

As Rachel leaves, for a moment Quinn's eyes remain on the door through which she has gone. Now she grips the towel over her shoulders, the one the brunette gave her, and pats the same spot she did.

...

The next morning, Russell, dressed for the day, passes servants busy with their morning tasks, polishing doorknobs, putting away linen, dusting picture frames. He nods and greets them as he strides down the hall, offering brief good mornings to the butler and the housekeeper.

Reaching the door to Rachel's guest suite, he knocks and waits a courteous moment before opening the door. Russell finds the tiny brunette standing in front of a whole length mirror, dressed in an elegant shirt and trousers, observing her reflection quite thoroughly.

"Good morning."

Rachel turns to him with a polite grin, "Good morning to you, Russell."

"How are you?" The man asks, standing behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"Feeling?" she echoes in bemusement, "I feel fine. How do you feel?" She asks out of courtesy.

"Um, well, I didn't sleep too well-" he cuts himself of with a frustrated huff, making Rachel sigh. "This is crazy! This is the most left-field thing of all time...What do I do? What do I tell my family? he mutters to himself.

The young woman straightens up. "Oh, I wouldn't tell them anything, Russell. You'll ruin the good start we had last night. I felt as if I were being treated like a person. 'Rachel' this and 'Rachel' that..."-she thinks back to Quinn's smile, "-they gave me lovely smiles and while it's certainly no 'rapture' or 'passion' or any of those mighty things you seem so intent on imparting...it was captivating." Rachel utters dreamily before regarding the man with brooding dark eyes. "But I am certain, should you say who I am...our adventure would end quite... abruptly."

Russell gazes at her in contemplation, eyeing the open collar of her shirt. "You need something to go with that shirt. Tie, bow-tie, or jacket?" he asks, opening drawers and closets that held such items.

Rachel scrutinizes each option before pointing to a simple black skinny tie. "That one, please." He hands it to her, and she holds it in her hands enthusiastically. She eyes his own perfectly tied tie and loops it around her neck. "I did so enjoy your family, I would hate to leave so soon."

The man is quiet as he regards Rachel carefully. The tie is a mess now, a bundle of silk stretching across the young woman's collarbone. "What about my family? This 'adventure' involves only me, right?" Silence permeates the room as Rachel considers the point, Russell quickly crosses to her, undoes the tie, and now begins tying it for her. "Tell you what, you promise that it's going to be only me and-"

"And what?"

"And I won't tell anyone who you are."

"Sounds fair enough."

"It is a deal?"

"A 'deal'?" she parrots, intrigued by the word.

He clarifies it for her patiently. "You give your word and I give mine that we'll do what we say. It's a truth exchanged between two people."

There is a brief pause.

"Russell..."

"Yes?"

"You've got a deal."

Russell offers Rachel a small smile in relief. He has now, with some difficulty, completed the tying of Rachel's tie, adjusts it beautifully on he collar, then spins him around in front of the mirror. Rachel, catching sight of her own appearance, rises to the balls of her feet, quite taken. "Oh, wow, this is great!" She turns to Russell with a wide smile, "Now what do we do?

"Shake hands."

Rachel immediately extends her hand toward Russell, but he freezes on seeing the hand, stares at it, but after a moment... takes it. She pumps his hand vigorously, breaking into a broad grin.

...

Russell strides downtown with Death by his side, both of them blending right in, Rachel clearly enjoying being part of the Upper Class fifth avenue crowd. The man eyes the young woman beside him, conflicted at the sight of interest on Rachel's face as she examines the people headed for their offices at the top of corporate high-rises.

"You know, I got to thinking last night," he clears his throat in hesitation. "With you being here and all, how your...work...going elsewhere?"

There's a flicker of look that crosses over Rachel's face. She heard what the the older man has said, her eyes were busy with taking in the sparkle of the Avenue, but she's concentrating on Russel's words.

She pauses thoughtfully before answering. "When you were shaving this morning, you weren't just shaving, were you?"

"What do you mean?"

Rachel answers him with calmness. "You were doing other things, breathing, making ideas, going over the things you had to do today, right?"

"I-I suppose that's right."

"So you understand the concept then." She says, nodding at him with approval. "You've grasped the idea. Wonderful job, Russell. Now multiply that by infinity, take it to the depths of forever, and you still will have barely a glimpse of what I am talking about."

The man falls silent, chewing over Rachel admonition.

"Rachel-?"

"Yes, Russell."

"How about giving a guy a break?"

"You mean, make an exception?"

"There's one to every rule."

She glances at him briefly. "Not this."

They stride on, cutting through the crowd, Rachel completely at home in her surroundings, but Russell is just the opposite, he is uncharacteristically uncomfortable, phrases forming on his lips remain unspoken, before he can no longer contain himself.

"I don't deserve this. I'm still young, this is not my time-"

"That's what everybody says." Rachel stops abruptly in front of a hot dog stand and looks at it with wonderment. "Could I get one of these, Russell?"

He pulls her away. "You're supposedly vegan, and I'm not just everybody."

She bottom lip juts out at being denied. "That's what everybody says."

Russell is trying to control himself as he looks at the face of Death.

"I want- I want to live."

"I understand." Rachel looks away minutely before facing with a grim expression. "But you can't."

A sudden silence between them. Russell's shoulders slacken slightly, the courage he displayed at raising the issues has vanished.

"What's it like?" he asks in defeat.

"What do you mean?"

"What's it like...," he looks to the sky, "...where I'm going?"

Rachel eyes the clouds in confusion. "Can you keep a secret, Russell?"

"Yes, of course."

Skipping ahead of him, she turns around and begins to walk backwards. They turn into Russell's office building, and just as they enter, she smiles at him briefly. "So can I."

...

As Rachel and Russell emerge from the executive elevator, Russell's assistant is waiting as usual equipped with a pad of paper and a pen, her usual greetings of "Good morning"s, and a genuine smile. The business man nods at her briefly before striding down the hall, Rachel right beside him. The assistant hurries along behind them, furiously taking notes as Russell spoke.

"-And call my family, I'd like them to come over for dinner tonight."

"Of course, Mr. Fabray. Right away."

"Anything else, sir? Miss?"

Rachel chimes in. "Yes, actually, I would like a hot dog, please. A vegan one if that's possible."

The assistant looks briefly to Russell, wondering if she heard the instructions right. From the embarrassed, yet commanding look on the man's face, the assistant nods in bewilderment. "Of course, ma'm."

"Wonderful!"

Russell turns to his companion as his assistant scurried away to fulfill her request. "Perhaps you would like to wait in my office?"

"No."

"What I'm trying to say is this is a Board meeting and you are not a member of the Board."

"I'm sure you'll see to it that it won't be a problem."

He hesitates for a second before nodding, conceding the point, and reaches for the doorknob of the board room. He enters the room with poise only a man of his stature could possess, Rachel following right behind him, looking at all the faces with wonder.

"Good morning," he greets, taking his seat at the head of the long table.

Everyone sits when Russell does but Rachel spots a tray of refreshments and desserts in the corner of the room and glows with happiness, with a bounce in her step she heads for them.

Talking to the board, Russell gestures awkwardly to the young girl. "This is, uh, Rachel Berry, a personal associate of mine...ahem...she'll be joining us today. I know it's quite unusual, and my apologies. Right, please, carry on."

Immediately there are indications of surprise on Board members' faces at Russell bringing in an 'observer', particularly one man- Jesse St. James, an up and coming new partner of the company- looks at the tiny brunette with a guarded, but intense gaze. He was a part of the new wave of business sharks rising up in the world, along with Finn, but he had something the towering boy didn't-

-ambition.

Jesse was full of ambition, so much so that it clouded everything else.

"Nice to see meet you," he smirked at her briefly before turning breaking into a charming smile. "I didn't expect visitors, but certainly if Mr. Fabray thinks that you'd be a useful addition, then the more the merrier I say."

Rachel sips distractedly at her glass of juice. "Thank you."

"The Board of Fabray Communications is hereby called to order." He clears his throat dramatically. "Our sole order of business is an acceptance of John Bontecou's generous offer and-"

"Do you have any more of these delicious cookies?" Rachel interrupts, swallowing her last bite.

There is a hushed silence at the inappropriateness of her interruption, but she's oblivious to it, instead she sends a friendly wave to Finn- who sat between two stuffy looking executive types- looking bored out of his mind.

She looks up at Jesse. "And a cup of tea. With milk, I think. I'd like to try it English-style. Yes, a cup of tea with milk."

"Anything else, Ms. Berry" he asks sarcastically. "How about some water?

"Why yes, thank you."

"Hot or cold."

"Cold."

Jesse clenches his jaw as he indicates to the Board's Stenographer to arrange Rachel's refreshments.

"Would you like to sit down, Rachel?" Russell gestures quietly to the chair beside him.

"Yes."

With a subtle glare in Rachel's direction, Jesse continues. "To review - we're really crossing the 't's and dotting the 'i's here. Mr. Fabray had a great and conclusive meeting with John Bontecou yesterday, all that remains for us is to put it to a vote."

Smiles and murmurs of a congratulatory receptiveness are heard from the Board at Jesse's news.

"Thank you, Jesse." Russell utters emptily. He takes a moment, draws himself up to say something official then stops himself. "Um, I did enjoy, or rather, I was interested in meeting John yesterday...impressive... I suppose... But it did get me to thinking. I started in this business because this is what I wanted to do. I knew I wasn't going to write the Great American Novel, but I also knew there was more to life than buying something for a dollar and selling it for two. I'd love to make a profit, of course! You can't exist without one but John Bontecou is all profit. If we give him license to absorb Fabray Communications, we'll be appointing him to the position he craves- Gatekeeper. In order to reach the world you will have to go through him. And not only will you have to pay him to do this...why, you'll have to agree with him!" he pauses for a breath while the rest of the room's occupants looked at him in silence. "Reporting the news is a privilege and a responsibility and it is not exploitable. Fabray Communications has earned this privilege... John Bontecou wants to buy it! As your chairman, I urge you to agree this company is not for sale."

Rachel looks up at him with something akin to admiration.

Everybody shifts in their seats in thought and in shock, as Jesse tries to maintain his balance.

"Sounds like you're not leaving much room for discussion," Jesse mutters carefully. "Well, that's your privilege, Russell. But given our needs... given the absolute necessity for growth... given the future... the truth is... joining John Bontecou is every bit as certain as - Death and Taxes.

Rachel interjects at this. "'Death and Taxes'?"

Jesse resists the urge to roll his eyes at the blank look on the young woman's face. "Yes, Miss Berry."

"Death and Taxes." She repeats with emphasis, glancing wide eyed at Russell. "...What an odd pairing."

"It's just a saying, Miss Berry."

"Of whom?"

"It doesn't matter."

She furrows her brows naively. "Then why did you bring it up?"

He regards her for a moment. "You're not familiar with the phrase, 'In this world, nothing is certain but Death and Taxes'?"

"I am now." She murmurs, once again distracted by the arrival of her hotdog, cookies, and beverages.

Russell glaces around the room, the Board seemed provoked and utterly mystified by Rachel and even more by her rather...intriguing presence, he looks away as they cast meaningful glances at him, Jesse coolly grasps the irritation of the members.

Reaching up to adjust his already impeccable tie, Russell rises from his seat. "Shall we adjourn?"

"But the matter's still on the table, Bill-" Jesse exclaims, his voice beginning to increase in volume.

Finn, who's been warily silent, stands and interrupts the curly haired man before him. "Why don't we leave it alone for today? Let it rest? Give it some air?" he suggested with a squinty eyed grin.

Russell smiles wryly at his daughter's significant other. "Well said, Finn. Rachel, shall we?"

She gets up, juggling her food with both hands. "Those cookies were excellent."

As soon as they exit, a babble of disturbed reactions erupt from the Board.

"Who is that girl!" Jesse fumes, grabbing his cellphone of the desk. "Yes, this is Jesse St. James. Listen to me, I need you to get me a Field Background check on a Rachel Berry. Litigations. Bankruptcies. Credit ratings. The works. Got it?"

He slams the phone down.

...

Russell enters his spacious office with Rachel right on his heels, finishing the last of her vegan hot dog.

"What's the deal here? Are you going to be breathing down my neck right 'til the very end?"

"I don't understand."

The man tries to gather himself to avoid an altercation. "...I'd like to be alone for a while."

Rachel looks up from wiping her hands on her pants. She stares at him intently, trying to understand. "Are you...are you sad, Russell?"

"Yes, I am." He puffs out a heavy breath. "There's a research library on the fourth floor. Why don't you go down and read some magazines?"

She comes around to his side of the desk. "Why are you sad?"

"Rachel, could I ask you to take a walk? Buy a tie or something. I know I'll be seeing you."

"Of course." But she doesn't move to go.

"Now, Rachel," he begins, prompting. "I'd like to be alone."

"Oh. Okay."

He reaches into his pocket and hands her some cash. "Here, uh, this will hold you for a while." She stares blankly at the money as Russell shows her the door. "You know about money, don't you?"

"It can't buy happiness?"

He opens the door pointedly. "Good bye, Rachel."

"See you later, Russell."

...

Rachel walks into the emergency room area with a keen eye and open ears, fascinated by the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Across the hallway, she sees Quinn giving instructions to a Nurse, a patient on an examining table beside them. As she finishes, she looks up and Rachel smiles as the doctor notices her down the corridor in the reception area. Quinn seemed startled for a moment, but she quickly makes a last notation, hands a chart to the Nurse and heads down the corridor, towards Rachel.

"What are you-"

"How nice you look." Rachel smiles at her, taking in the blonde in her uniform.

Quinn regards her wordlessly for a moment. "Why did you come here?" she breathed out, looking away from the other girl.

Rachel doesn't have an answer.

"Are you ill?" The doctor's expression turns to that of concern.

"Oh goodness, no."

"Then why are you here, Rachel?" she asks in mild exasperation.

"I came to see you."

Quinn stutters at the bluntness of her response. "I-I don't really have any time to see you right now. I'm doing rounds and then after I'm examining back-to-back patients until dinner and then-"

"Very well, I'll watch."

"Watch me do what?"

"Whatever you do."

"That's impossible. I'm a doctor."

"And I'll be a visitor." Rachel looks at Quinn, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled widely at the frazzled looking blonde.

"Patients have visitors, not doctors."

"I don't mind-"

"Miss? Miss Doctor?"

Behind them are two elder Jewish women, one is holding her stomach and rocking back and forth in her wheelchair. Its evident that she's in great pain.

"Please." The standing woman pleads, her accent thickening as she got more upset. "My sister's sicker than she is."

The sitting woman looks up and as soon as she sees Rachel, she abruptly becomes still, eyes wide, as if with sudden recognition.

"מות," the elder woman muttered frightfully.

Death.

Quinn glanced at Rachel in confusion. "Do you understand what she's saying?"

"אני הולך למות."

I'm going to die.

"Stop it." The other woman looked at Rachel in apology. "She's just a girl."

Rachel looks at the sitting woman with morbid curiosity.

"What is she saying?" Quinn asks, biting her lip, shooting the brunette beside a meaningful glance.

"It means Bad spirit. She's delirious from the pain. Please, help us."

"Have you filled out the insurance forms?" When the woman shakes her head anxiously, Quinn gives her a gentle smile. "Why don't we go fill those out right now, alright?"

Rachel leans forward. "I'm not death. Everything's going to be alright." She answers in perfect Hebrew. "You're going to be fine."

Quinn looks at her in astonishment as the ill woman's fearful gaze remains locked on Rachel. "The doctor's going to take good care of you."

"Don't leave!" The woman pleads to her sister as Quinn led her sister away to fill out the papers.

"You're the Grim."

Rachel shook her head. "The Grim is evil. I'm not evil."

"What are you then?"

"I'm...from the next place." She concludes with a small smile.

"Are you waiting here to take us?"

"No, no, I'm on holiday."

The sick woman looks around the hospital dubiously. "Some spot you pick." She chuckles briefly before wincing with pain, gasping. "The pain is bad."

"I have nothing to do with that," Rachel says softly.

"Make it go away."

Kneeling down in front of the older woman, Death spoke to the woman in a gentle voice. "The doctor will make it go away."

"Not this pain. This is true pain. She can't make this go away."

"I can't."

"You can." She asserts, "Take me to that next place."

Rachel looks at her for a long time, thinking, feeling, before sighing with regret. "It's not your time yet."

"Make it my time."

She shakes her head, a firm no. But when she looks and speaks to the ill woman again, her words are heavily laced with concern and even compassion. "I can't change how things are meant to be."

Quinn and the woman return with an Orderly.

"Please..." she cries to Rachel once more.

"Come now," As she begins to get wheeled away, she looks pleadingly at Rachel.

"Wait." Rachel steps forward, putting her hand on the sick woman's arm. "Close your eyes."

She does, and her pained grimace melts into a peaceful smile.

Rachel leans down to whisper in her ear. "Soon." She takes her hand away, and the Orderly wheels the woman off.

"Go with her." Quinn turns to the woman's sister. "I'll be right there."

As she goes to be with her family, Rachel turns to Quinn with wide glassy eyes. "She's in a great deal of pain."

"Yes."

The doctor regards Rachel, puzzled. "You speak fluent Hebrew?"

"Yes." Rachel shifts uncomfortably. "I-I realize now that my being here... this is not really appropriate and I-"

"Don't apologize." Quinn cuts in kindly. "There's nothing to be sorry for- every hospital should have someone like you."

Rachel brings a hand up to her chest, forehead wrinkling in silent turmoil. She stays silent as she waited for the tightness in her chest to go away at the sight of affection in Quinn's beautiful eyes.

"-I'm glad you came."

She jerks her head clumsily. "Thank you. I'm so very glad to be here."

They both don't move as they search for words. Finally, with a barely there grin, Rachel breaks the silence. "I could come again...to visit you."

Quinn's expression falters. "Rachel, I-I'm with Finn."

"With Finn?" she echoes.

"He and I, we're...we're together. Romantically. I'm with him."

Rachel casts her eyes downward. "Not right now," she naively responds.

The doctor smiles gently.

"Don't you want me to come again?"

Quinn turns away to avoid those chestnut eyes. "I have to go, I'm sorry to say -"

"Be sorry for nothing." Rachel utters with the utmost sincerity.

"Yes." The blonde clears her throat. "Well...thank you, Rachel."

She turns to go, hesitating.

"Good bye to you."

Quinn waves softly to Rachel, heading down the hall, but she can't help but glance back once, only to see that Rachel has not moved, and is watching her as she departs.