Authors Note: I wasn't going to start posting this until I'd gotten a lot further through the story rather than posting it as I wrote which is what happened with TRC, but right now I'm at chapter 4 and I'm finding it hard going writing like that, both because its easy to put off writing when there is no one waiting for the next chapter and I'm second guessing myself a lot. I still plan to keep a couple of chapters ahead of what I post but I plan to post only a chapter a week maximum rather than as often as I complete a chapter.

This is based on a prompt and title from PezberryFaberryLuvr. But I won't publish the full prompt yet as that may reveal too much about the story.

Timeline: Set starting the morning of New Years Day 2011 (Season 2 somewhere between episodes 10 and 11).

Canon: Semi-AU until 2x10 then veering wildly AU as the story progresses. Begining differences: Quinn never got pregnant and so didn't have Beth, didn't get kicked out of her home or off of the Cherrios. Santana and Brittany are best friends but have never been anything more.

Warning: G!P Santana

Parings: PezBerry, Fierce/Quitt, Puckleberry (friendship)

Summary: When Rachel wakes up after an alcohol enhanced junior year New Year party, she finds herself in bed with the last person she ever thought she'd end up doing the horizontal tango with. When she falls pregnant she has plenty to decide, will she tell the father? Will she keep the child? Will she give up her dreams to become a mother and Lima Looser, or give up her child to pursue her dreams? Or maybe, just maybe, will she managed to beat the odds and become a Broadway Mom?

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, sadly, the characters (other than those I make up) or any of the songs that may come up.

Note: Posted here and on AO3 in case FF decide to delete it. See my tumbr account (link in profile) for links to other locations.

Reviews are welcome, even negative ones, but please do keep them constructive. If you have questions or comments you don't want to put in a review, send me a message or question on tumblr, see my profile for a link.

It was the sun creeping in through a gap in the hastily drawn curtains and assaulting Rachel's still closed eyes that finally woke her to an impressive headache that first day of the new year. It was also the first hint she got that she wasn't wrapped up in her favourite cotton pyjamas and cosy in her own bed at home, it never got the sun at this time of the morning and that's the way Rachel liked it because the sun peeking in around the curtains and blinding you when you first woke was just plain rude.

A groan escapes her throat and she brings her arm up to cover her eyes from the assault already promising herself that she's never going to drink again in her life. Ever. The moment drags her arm out from under the sheet that is covering her body and when it falls back over her skin she can't help but appreciate the softness of the sheet against her. Her naked skin. Her entire naked body…

Oh… dear.

The sheets were nice though, Egyptian cotton or something similar, very high thread count and Rachel lets herself get distracted by the feel of them against her skin for a while because she's not entirely sure she'll like whatever she find out next. When she shifts her body to feel the sheets rub against her skin again she's also rewarded with an unfamiliar dull ache between her legs and a flashback of a sudden sharp pain as something slid into her the previous night.

Slid into her?

She'd swallow nervously if her mouth wasn't sandpaper dry right now and she attempts to cast her mind back to the previous night to piece together exactly what happened. She remembered arriving eager for the first real party she'd been invited to and on time of course because who shows up for a party late? Well that night Rachel learned that most people do because there weren't many people at Puck's house when she arrived to find Puck still in the process of setting up.

There's a memory of shots taken in the kitchen with Puck, Santana, Brittany and… maybe Quinn? The unholy trinity had all shown up together and Santana almost immediately started her mantra for the night, "for God sake, relax Berry" which eventually had the effect of persuading Rachel to forgo her intention to remain sober and actually partake in some of the alcoholic beverages, if only to shut Santana up. Maybe trying to prove to Santana that she could relax as well as the Latina could wasn't one of her better ideas.

There was some dancing with… someone. Rachel could remember bodies rubbing against each other to a heavy beat, someone breathing against her neck and hands clutching her hips as she ground her ass against their… At this point Rachel's blushing just remembering the action. Then there was singing, that's safer ground. Karaoke? Maybe but Rachel seems to remember a lot of Barbra being sung, mostly by her, which probably meant it wasn't karaoke.

There's beer pong, or maybe it was flip cup, even at the time Rachel hadn't been too sure what they'd been playing and as if things hadn't been vague enough up to that point, her memory from then on was like walking through a thick fog. There is a clear memory of sitting on the sofa next to Santana trying to match her drink for drink and on reflection Rachel decides that that probably wasn't one of her better ideas even if it did seem like fun at the time. After that her memory deteriorates to a sequence of flash frames of sensation and visuals, the flash of pain, a feeling of fullness, an odd memory of someone else's breasts which may have been real or may have been some weird fantasy and then a feeling of pleasure so sudden and intense Rachel thinks she may have blacked out for a while. Or maybe that was the alcohol.

Someone shifts in the bed next to Rachel and a feeling of dread settles into her already churning stomach, she's pretty sure that if she could actually move she'd be bent over the side of the bed throwing up onto the floor at this point. Rachel's still slightly intoxicated mind puts everything together and comes up with what appears to be a logical conclusion, she'd lost her virginity to whoever was still sleeping next to her on this bed and she couldn't remember much of the event. Her fathers would be so proud, not that she's ever going to tell them about this, ever. Still, she's not entirely sure that not remembering it is such a bad thing though, after all who wants to remember their first time if it was terrible?

Rachel files those thoughts away for later consideration.

The only other breathing Rachel can hear other than her own is deep and even, so whoever it is it seems they are still soundly asleep. She risks turning her head towards her bedmate but keeps her eyes screwed tight shut until the wave of pain and nausea caused by the movement has passed then slowly cracks an eye open, jamming it shut quickly again when the little light that makes it in starts a new pounding just behind her temples.

After some experimentation and plenty of time, Rachel finally gets an eye open and focused and the first thing she sees before her are a pair of breasts. A rather nice pair of breasts too, though Rachel can't say she's an expert on the matter, but they are round, pert, covered in a lovely tan skin with dusky nipples and while the diva doesn't recognise them herself, it seems her body does since her mouth is now watering and there's a new throbbing between her legs.

That reaction gets added to her 'for later consideration' file.

Rachel angles her head back to try and get a look at the owner of the rather nice breasts and once her head stops spinning she realises its Santana. Eyes closed again because there's only so much she can process at the same time right now, Rachel considers this new piece of information and comes to the conclusion that this might not be a bad thing. Santana is gay, out and (very) proud so Rachel's pretty sure she's not going to get accused of trying to convert her to the sapphic persuasion and, from a purely technical viewpoint, it's not like the Latina can get Rachel pregnant so there are definitely worse people she could have lost her virginity too.

The fact that she's apparently lost her virginity to another girl doesn't bother Rachel, the diva has always accepted that she was attracted to both genders even if she has only dated boys until this point. Granted Santana will probably never let her live it down and Rachel wouldn't put it past the Latina to get a t-shirt made up proclaiming the event if she can remember it when she wakes up, but the diva's also beginning to regret that she can't remember anything because if the rumours she's heard are true, Santana is pretty damn good between the sheets.

There's a little snore and snort from the Latina and Rachel's pretty sure she can hear the other girl mumbling phrases like "Oh God, yes", "don't stop" and "right there" and Rachel is starting to get rather amused by the fact that Santana appears to be having a rather good sex dream when the phrase "Fuck Rach, yes!" causes her heart to almost stop and her face to flush. It is at this point that Santana decides to roll onto her side towards Rachel, her arm naturally coming to rest around Rachel's waist and the Latina pulls the other body against hers, burying her face in the diva's neck.

For a while all Rachel can do is lay there enjoying the sensation of the other girl pressing against her skin on skin since it turns out that Santana is totally naked as well, but eventually her brain catches up with what her senses are telling her and she starts to wonder just exactly what is poking her in the thigh. Was Santana wearing a strap-on? On one hand that made sense because it would explain the memory of something filling her, but who'd bring or wear a strap-on to a party?

Rachel can't help but grin at that thought it's exactly something Santana would do.

It would be just like the girl, especially if she was intending to attempt to pull someone and wanted to give them a surprised. Or maybe it was for a bet or dare. After a few moments Rachel decides she wants to know more about this attachment, after all it's probably been inside her and it would be interesting to at least find out how big it was. Curiosity may have killed the cat but Rachel's pretty sure it gave her an awesome orgasm last night.

Santana moans when Rachel's fingers finally find the thing poking her and that confuses the diva for a moment but she come to the conclusion that she either stroked the Latina's skin while moving or there's something on the other end of the attachment that's inside the other girl and it moved at Rachel's touch. The odd thing is that the strap-on doesn't feel like a strap-on, not that Rachel knows what one of those feel like, but it doesn't feel like hard plastic or silicone or anything fake like that, it feels warm and pretty much like skin.

Rachel is still considering this, stroking her fingers over the rather well shaped tip, when Santana moans again, her hips thrust against Rachel for a moment then a groan and the diva's hand and thigh is covered by a warm sticky substance.

When Rachel's brain finally catches up with her body she's sitting bold upright in bed, sheets falling down around her waist exposing both herself and Santana with the Latina's arm still across her lap and her hand is held before her, palm up and covered in something that is obviously semen. She uses her other hand to lift the sheet and eyes Santana's crotch for a moment, which is enough to decide that the Latina is most definitely not wearing a strap-on.

Santana has a penis.

Rachel frowns for a moment filing this fact in her 'for later consideration' file because right now is not the time to get into a philosophical discussion about the merits of females with additional bits, even if it is with herself. Rachel is already out of bed and in the en-suite scrubbing her hand and thigh clean of the sticky substance, adrenalin seems to be a great hangover cure. She finds her clothes except her panties which she can't locate after a frantic search so she dresses with what she has, slips out the door and quietly descends the stairs tugging repeatedly on her dress so her lack of underwear doesn't become apparent to anyone else.

There are people sleeping everywhere downstairs but the path to the front door is thankfully clear so Rachel slips out without anyone hearing her and a few moments later she's on her way home in the back of a hastily called cab.

It was the click of the door closing behind Rachel that finally woke Santana up, that and the sudden coolness caused by the lack of another body in the bed with her, though Santana would never actually be aware of either of those facts.

What Santana did know was the unusual feeling of satisfaction that permeated her body as she rolled over and stretched out in the queen size bed. Unusual because after one of those dreams she usually woke up hard and horny and had to take matters into her own hands if she wanted any relief, but today she felt relaxed, happy and sated. Odd, but she wasn't about to bitch about feeling good.

She was used to the sex dreams by now. When they had first started Santana had been horrified mainly because, as well as featuring a wide selection of attractive movie or music stars which the Latina had no problem with, they sometimes featured one of her two best friends, Brittany and Quinn, and very occasionally both leaving her unable to look them in the eye for the next week.

After one period when Santana had barely been able to speak to the pair for about a month, they had finally cornered her and demanded to know what was going on. Their reaction to Santana's red faced confession had not been disgust or hate as she had feared it would be, but had been to start making out with each other in front of her as often as they could in what Quinn described as a scientific experiment to test if external visual stimulus could increase the frequency and intensity of nocturnal arousal and emissions.

They succeeded.

Santana always thought they looked like a pair of fucking Barbie's going at it but she wasn't about to complain, or point that out, if she was getting a free show. And yeah, Brittany and Quinn were very gay for each other though Quinn still firmly in the closet to everyone other than Santana but the Latina was pretty sure you'd have to be blind not to notice something between the pair. Then again there were plenty of people in this cow-town that only saw what they wanted to anyway.

Having Berry feature in her dream was a first though. Santana could vaguely remember drinking and even dancing with the diva the previous night, dancing quite closely if she remembered accurately, and maybe that was enough for her to get a starring role. But the detail had been breath-taking, the soft feel of the girl's skin, the mole on her hip, the small scar on her shoulder, the little moans, groans and grunts she'd made and the feel of her coming as Santana was buried inside her were all so detailed and fresh that Santana could almost swear it actually happened.

Almost.

Santana had seen Quinn and Brittany in bikini's and sports bras and spankies when they were changing after Cheerios, but her dreams about them had never been as detailed and she couldn't remember seeing Berry in anything other than those god-awful sweaters and sinfully short skirts or the occasional dress for a Glee performance. Santana mentally shrugs and put it down to an active imagination and too much alcohol.

Cracking an eye and looking around confirms to Santana that she is alone in a room she identified as Puck's guest room and that it was still too damned early to be awake. Without once wondering why she'd woken up, Santana rolls over in bed, makes herself comfortable and drifted back off to sleep.

When Rachel reached home she was thankful that her fathers were away at relatives for the new year holiday. She had been supposed to join them but then Puck had invited her to his party and she'd pretty much begged her fathers to allow her to stay home alone so she could attend and they had eventually, though reluctantly, agreed as long as she promised to take care of herself and not to drink too much.

Hmmm.

Rachel heads upstairs to her room and searches in her bathroom cabinet for some advil eventually swallowing two with some water and then returns to her bedroom, standing lost in thought for a moment in the middle of her room.

She got drunk and ended up losing her virginity to Santana. Not only that but she enjoyed losing her virginity to Santana, as much as she can remember anyway. And Santana has a penis. The thoughts spin round in her head and she knows there's something important she's missing, but her head is still pounding and she's pretty sure she is still somewhat drunk so the only other thought she can muster is to wonder if that makes her gay or straight.

She sighs and turns towards her bed, the material of her dress caressing her ass and reminding her of her lack of underwear. She pulls her dress off over her head and tosses it towards the hamper in the corner of the room, followed shortly after by her bra. She stands for a moment by the bed looking down at her star spangled pyjamas that she loves so much then pulls back the sheets and slides between them still naked.

Within moments she's fast asleep dreaming of intimate encounters with a certain Latina and when she wakes some hours later, the need for birth control never occurs to her.