Author's Note: This is an alternate universe fantasy piece written in an attempt to soothe the sting of my last angsty oneshot with something a little fluffier. Inspired by and dedicated to the Angel Of Faberry Feels. You, yes you.

Eternal gratitude to the most awesome beta ever, Skywarrior108.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters, I just like to play with them…strictly non-profit.

Must Be An Angel

There must be an angel
Playing with my heart.
~Eurythmics

She gets her new assignment on December 18. There isn't much need for marking time where she's from, but she's discovered that humans seem to be stubbornly attached to such things. They're also fond of names, and Angel is the one that most humans would give to her. She decided long ago that she rather likes it. She also rather likes the one that's been given to her newest charge—Rachel Barbra Berry. It has a certain musical quality that seems quite fitting for the little one nestled safely in her daddy's arms.

Angel is excited about this assignment because she knows that Rachel is special. She has a destiny. Well, everyone has a destiny, to be fair, but Rachel's is so much bigger and brighter than those other boring destinies that Angel has guided. Okay, so she's relatively new at this whole guardian angel thing—she's only been at it a few hundred years—but there are only so many first words, teeth, steps, days of school, loves, jobs, engagements, weddings, and babies you can witness without finding it all a little repetitive. She's never had the privilege of guiding someone with such raw talent before, so forgive her if she's looking forward to experiencing a human life lived on a bit of a grander scale.

Of course, she doesn't yet know everything that Rachel will be—human free will can be highly unpredictable—but Angel knows the basic plan for her life, as she does with all her charges, and it's her job to guide each of her humans onto their proper paths. She can already sense that Rachel is going to be a challenge. Angel is a little bit psychic, after all.

"Happy birthday, little star," she murmurs, and for just a moment, a tiny brow furrows as baby Rachel turns her head in Angel's direction. "That's right. You just remember to listen to me just like this, and I promise that I'll get you where you need to go."

The baby's lips purse into a tiny frown right before she proves how powerful her little lungs really are. Angel sighs, even more certain than before that Rachel Berry is going to cause her to lose more than a few feathers.

xx

Angel doesn't spend every moment with Rachel. She has other charges that she needs to keep her eye on as well. There are only so many guardian angels to go around, and humans don't seem to be in any big hurry to stop overpopulating their world. Wings can get spread a little thin at times, but Angel makes sure to check in on Rachel often. She doesn't really need much guidance in those early years. Her fathers take good care of her, and they're helpful enough to start Rachel along her destined path. There's always singing and dancing and laughter in their home, and Angel often finds herself joining in, even though no one can see or hear her.

Rachel certainly doesn't hear Angel when she's four years old and chooses to crawl onto the roof outside of her window in the rain so that she can sing "Don't Rain On My Parade" to the sky. Angel frantically flits around her, yelling, "Get back inside! This is a very dangerous activity for humans, Rachel Barbra Berry. You don't have any wings!"

Rachel pauses only briefly, stuttering over a shaky, "D-don't…tell me not to…to fly," before she shakes her head in silent frustration, scowls determinedly, and continues to sing.

Angel would probably find her little human's stubbornness endearing if she wasn't risking her very fragile life! "You are being incredibly obstinate! You're going to fall and break your talent!" she shouts, flapping her wings irately. Rachel spreads her arms and legs to belt out a high note, and Angel watches in horror as her foot slips on the wet shingles, and she begins to fall with an off-key screech.

Calling up a semi-corporeal form is instinctive, and Angel lurches forward, managing to grab Rachel's arm before she falls completely over the edge. Her little body jerks to a stop mid-plummet, although her forehead does slam against the edge of the roof, causing a bloody gash to appear just beneath her hairline. Angel feels the pain as if it's her own—an unfortunate side effect of interfering so directly with her charge—but it isn't Rachel's time yet, and Angel can't bear to see her little body needlessly broken.

She lifts Rachel back up onto the roof, laying her gently along the edge and guarding over her shivering, sobbing body until her fathers arrive. Angel indulges the urge to stroke Rachel's wet hair just once, whispering, "There, there, little star. You're safe now," before she allows her form to fade back into the ether. Rachel's body shudders, and she sniffles, but she seems to calm a little then.

It's only a matter of those human-labeled seconds until Hiram Berry leans out from Rachel's window with a horrified expression on his face. "Rachelah!" he shouts frantically, even as he scrambles out the window. "Leroy! Leroy! Come here!"

Angel stays long enough to see that Rachel is safe in her father's arms. There will be stitches and a permanent scar to remind Rachel of her carelessness, but the fuzzy memory of the fall itself will fade along with the knowledge that she really should listen to Angel's voice when she hears it.

xx

On one particularly lovely autumn day—Angel quite prefers the name autumn to fall if humans insist on naming such things—she feels a particular pull toward Rachel, and she isn't quite certain why, but she makes sure to drop in and check on her charge. Rachel is in her tenth human year, and her fathers take her to the county fair, and Angel is immediately on guard. There are dozens of potential threats to her charge in a place like this, between the unstable mechanical contraptions that the humans call amusement rides, the unpredictable animals kept fenced off from their natural habitat, and the many humans prowling the grounds with dishonorable intentions.

Still, Angel is quickly charmed by Rachel's excitement. She's practically skipping as she pulls eagerly at her daddy's hand in an attempt to see everything. She stops wide-eyed when she sees the Ferris Wheel and immediately announces that she wants to ride it. Leroy Berry volunteers to take her so that Hiram can keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. Angel watches the ride warily as she hovers next to their seat, but it seems to be in proper working order, and Rachel is smiling and laughing as she looks out over the fairgrounds. "I like it up here, Daddy," she says. "It's almost like flying."

Leroy chuckles in amusement and pulls his daughter close. "I'm glad you're having fun, baby girl."

"Daddy," she whines. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"You'll always be mine," he tells her.

Angel sighs at the exchange, smiling fondly at the two. From up here, she can see the auras of other angels hovering around their charges. They don't typically interfere with one another. In fact, since she's been assigned to Rachel, Angel has only seen Hiram's guardian twice and Leroy's once. When the ride transports them safely back to the ground, she watches Rachel bounce over to her dad and tell him about the view before dragging both her parents toward the concession stands.

They're waiting in line for that fluffy, sticky, pink sugar that human (children especially) seem to love so much at these gatherings, and Angel allows her attention to slide away from Rachel for a few moments, satisfied that she's safe under her fathers' watchful eyes. Truthfully, as their excursion is winding down, she's wondering why she felt—still feels—the need to be near Rachel tonight so strongly.

She hears a soft, trembling voice nearby, asking, "Please, Frannie. Can I have some cotton candy?"

"No. You don't need that junk," comes the waspish reply, and Angel's eyes land on the pair of girls standing right next to her. The older one is very pretty by human standards, thin and blonde with snapping green eyes, but the scowl on her face makes her decidedly less attractive. The younger one, whom Angel would guess to be about the same age as Rachel, is also very pretty, though she's quite a bit more shapely, and her expressive hazel eyes are hidden behind thick spectacles. Still, Angel can see traces of the beauty to come.

"I have money," the younger girl says. "It will only take a minute."

The older girl, Frannie, scoffs, "Are you kidding? That line will take more than a minute, and I want to go meet Rob. I can't even believe Mom is making me watch you. Stupid wine tasting," she mutters, glaring over at a nearby tent. "Now come on, Lucy," she demands, grabbing a pale arm.

"You're not supposed to be meeting boys," Lucy says accusingly, tugging her arm free. "I won't tell her if you let me get a cotton candy."

"You little snot," Frannie hisses. "Go ahead and tell her. I don't care. It's not like she'll do anything. I'm going to meet Rob at the Tilt-A-Whirl. If you want your stupid cotton candy so bad, you can get it yourself. You're already a fat, little pig anyway."

"I'm not fat," Lucy cries. "Take it back!" She grabs at Frannie's hand, but Frannie brushes her off and pushes her hard enough to send her falling onto the ground. A brief look of remorse crosses Frannie's face before she huffs and marches away, leaving a sniffling Lucy behind.

Angel just barely resists the urge to chase the girl and send her stumbling into a pile of horse manure. She glances around, looking for Lucy's guardian in vain, and she crosses her arms in annoyance. Talk about falling down on the job. But then she notices her own charge looking at the girl with glistening, brown eyes and a pensive expression.

Rachel glances up at her daddy, biting her lip before she walks over to Lucy, clutching her newly acquired cotton candy in her hand. She stands over the girl, who is still sitting on the ground and wiping at her wet cheeks beneath the frames of her spectacles, and offers her hand. Lucy looks up at her with a wary frown, but after a moment of hesitation, she takes Rachel's hand.

If Angel had to breathe, she'd be catching her breath at the sight of the barely visible thread that unravels from Rachel's aura and entwines itself into Lucy's, glowing green where the connection is made. She's only witnessed such a thing happen on very rare occasions, and she suddenly knows why she was drawn to Rachel today. Her destiny is suddenly bound to another—to this sad, lovely girl with shining, hazel eyes who is whispering a shy, "Thank you," to Rachel as she helps her stand.

Rachel blushes and grins back, holding out her cotton candy. "You can have mine, if you want."

Lucy shakes her head, brushing the traces of tears from her cheeks in embarrassment as she looks away. "I couldn't."

"That girl was wrong. I think you're really pretty."

Lucy's cheeks tint pink, but her gaze finds Rachel's eyes and a genuine smile curves her mouth. At least, until Leroy comes to stand next to Rachel in concern. Lucy stumbles back a step in fear, letting go of Rachel's hand, but the thread between them remains. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks kindly, and Lucy nods jerkily, pushing her spectacles up on her nose.

"I...I have to go," she whispers, eyes widening nervously when Hiram comes to join his family.

Leroy frowns in concern. "Are you by yourself?"

Lucy shakes her head. "My Mom's over there," she tells them, pointing to the tent. "I should...I should go," and she turns to rush away.

"Wait," Rachel calls out, hurrying over to her and offering the cotton candy again. "You forgot this."

Lucy bites the corner of her lip indecisively before she smiles again and reaches out to accept the sticky confection. Another little thread ties itself between them before she turns and runs toward the tent, leaving Rachel grinning after her.

xx

Angel is disappointed not to see Lucy for the next few years, and she begins to wonder if that thread of fate really meant what she thought it did, but Rachel's entry into middle school makes her almost forget. Rachel isn't quick to make friends—she never has been—but her new school brings a new set of social challenges. There's one particularly nasty, little girl named Santana who seems to thrive on insulting Rachel, and until Angel actually sees the little devil child's guardian in the spirit, she's convinced that the girl must be under the influence of a demon.

Angel can't help breaking the rules, just a little, and giving the other guardian a piece of her mind.

"Oh, take it easy, goody-two-wings," Santana's guardian tells her. "They're just being kids. Sometimes you just have to let them make their stupid mistakes now so they learn."

Angel doesn't completely support that theory, but Santana Lopez isn't her responsibility—Rachel is—and Angel religiously whispers words of encouragement into Rachel's ear every morning and evening to bolster her ego and arm her to battle the unkind words and deeds of her peers. She reminds Rachel that she's meant for bigger things, and it seems to work, maybe even a little too well, because by the time she enters high school, Rachel is convinced that she's going to be a star and is determined to make it happen by any means necessary.

It's on that first day that Rachel enters William McKinley High School that Angel notices those faint threads of Rachel's aura being to glow brighter once again, trailing a path down the hallway that Angel can't resist following until she finally sees Lucy again. She's not exactly the same girl that Rachel met at the fair—she's tall and thin and beautiful, and her spectacles are gone—but her expressive, hazel eyes are still the window to her soul, and the other end of Rachel's thread is still every bit as joined to Lucy's aura. She's wearing a white tunic that makes her look—well, almost angelic as she stares down at the paper in her hands.

Angel excitedly flits back to Rachel, bouncing around her and tugging on her aura. "Little star. She's here. Your cotton candy girl. Come meet her again," she urges, eager to set them both on their journey together.

Rachel glances around in confusion, looking up and down the hallway, but she doesn't make an effort to move. Angel sighs in frustration, but she supposes that they'll have to meet eventually. She can be patient. She can! It's just not what she prefers.

As it happens, Angel only has to wait two hours. She's been hanging around—despite the utter boredom of following Rachel to her classes—for the chance to see Rachel meet Lucy again, but also because she keeps feeling an odd shiver in her wings that's a little unsettling. She wants to make certain that Rachel makes it through the day unscathed.

Rachel is walking down the hall with a smile on her face and her little, pink backpack trailing behind her. Angel can see Lucy walking toward them, and her feathers are all atwitter until she notices that devil girl walking next to Lucy with her mouth in constant motion. She's dressed in one of those odd uniforms that apparently have something to do with the many meaningless tests of human endurance and skill that involves copious amounts of running, jumping, yelling, and aggressive contact. Angel doesn't really see the appeal.

Lucy doesn't appear upset, so Santana must not be insulting her as she so eagerly does to Rachel. Or perhaps Lucy just isn't paying attention to what the other girl is saying, because her eyes do seem to be darting around the hallway in a distracted manner, at least until they settle on Rachel.

Angel watches the recognition flash in those hazel eyes and soft lips curve into a faint smile, and she does a happy jig as she turns back to look at Rachel who—doesn't seem to recognize Lucy at all. Angel frowns.

"Come on, I know she looks a little different, but her eyes are the same," Angel points out. "You can't have forgotten her completely. You were so besotted with her that you talked about her to your fathers for three weeks non-stop. You were so disappointed that you didn't see her again in school. Can't you feel the pull?"

Rachel doesn't seem to, and she nearly walks right past Lucy without a glance. Angel supposes that she should have been paying closer attention to the other humans around them instead of being so focused on Rachel and Lucy. Perhaps if she had been, she would have realized sooner that the shiver in her wings was a portent of the crimson shower of ice that rains down over Rachel in the blink of an eye.

"Welcome to McKinley, loser," is sneered by the delinquent with the now empty cup as he brushes roughly past a frozen, trembling Rachel.

Santana bursts into laughter, nudging Lucy with her elbow. "See, that's why you wear the uniform to school, Quinn. So you don't get mistaken for a freak, like RuPaul there."

Lucy frowns, eyes glistening suspiciously, before she turns her gaze away from Rachel and forces a smile and a strained chuckle. Angel gasps in indignation at Lucy's easy acquiescence, but her attention is quickly recaptured by Rachel's choked sob.

"Oh, no! No, little star," she whispers frantically. "Don't let them see you cry. You're better than them. You square your shoulders and hold your head up high, and then we'll go get you cleaned up. Do you hear me?"

Rachel shudders once and then does exactly as Angel asks, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. Her eyes are still red and teary, but she walks with measured purpose through the giggling, pointing masses to the nearest bathroom before she lets herself break down. Angel wraps her up in her wings, cooing supportively as Rachel tearfully wipes her face.

Angel only lets Rachel out of her sight once the rest of the day, just long enough to track down that nasty boy, channel her energy into a tangible form—which isn't exactly easy, thank you very much!—and sneakily tie his shoelaces together under his desk. Watching him fall on his face is exceedingly satisfying, even though she knows that her supervisor will chastise her for her mischief.

The rest of the year doesn't improve much for Rachel. She makes an immediate bad impression on the acting choir director that gets her banned from the choir room, and Angel's attempts to work her magic to fix the situation are met with nothing but resistance. She's also extremely frustrated by her twenty-five percent failure rate at keeping Rachel clear of those vile icy concoctions. Those delinquents prove to be quicker than they look, but every time one of them trips and spills the cold substance over themselves, or misses wide right of their target and hits a teacher by mistake, or accidentally walks into a mysteriously open locker door, Angel does a little victory flight.

She isn't able to watch Rachel every moment of every day. She'd thought about asking to have some of her other charges reassigned, but she suspects that her supervisor will never agree. She should feel terrible for even considering it, but she's grown unusually attached to Rachel Berry.

She wishes she could say the same about Lucy—or rather, Quinn. She doesn't know why the girl changed her name, but everyday, Angel sees a little less of Lucy in her eyes, and everyday, the thread that binds her to Rachel frays a little thinner, but never fully breaks. It gives Angel hope that she'll see the remaining loose threads of their fate woven together one day.

xx

Time passes, and Rachel takes it upon herself (much to Angel's chagrin) to ensure that she's allowed back into the choir room under a brand new choir director. Unfortunately, his idea of a leading man for Rachel comes in the form of a tall, awkward boy whose shadow completely eclipses her shining star.

"You have got to be kidding me," she mutters when she hears him sing, but Rachel's eyes immediately light up, and Angel groans. "Oh, Rachel, no. Don't you dare," but of course, she does. She sets her sights on the tall boy, and Angel flutters her wings in frustration and executes a perfect, angelic fly out.

It isn't long before hazel eyes are locked onto Rachel once again, though in all honestly, they never really left. Angel has been watching her closely since Quinn let the first insult slip from her lips. It only seems to happen when she's not alone—when there are others around to question why she takes such careful notice of the clothes that Rachel wears, or the color of the headband in her hair, or the sound of her voice, or how many times that Quinn has viewed her MySpace videos—but her eyes shine with sadness and regret when she thinks no one is watching. And when she stands in the auditorium with her coach and Santana, caught between her two most volatile extremes while she watches Rachel steal the stage and the tall boy's attention, Angel hovers next to her, shaking her head in pained sympathy.

"I know just how you feel," she murmurs. "They're completely mismatched. We really need to do something about that."

Angel nearly falls out of the air in surprise when Quinn nods decidedly and mutters under her breath, "You bet I'll do something."

Unfortunately, Quinn does not march up to Rachel and kiss her the way Angel had hoped she would, but instead stirs the air between them with a crackling animosity that barely masks emotions that are so completely opposite. Rachel rises to the challenge, and frankly, Angel finds their interaction as fascinating as she does frustrating, especially when the thread that binds them snaps and vibrates with life against their sparking auras. Sadly, her attention to that occurrence distracts her from the slushies being tossed at her Rachel, and she huffs in displeasure. "This is all that tall boy's fault."

Rachel doesn't seem to agree, and her pursuit of the bumbling boy with the questionable intelligence continues, much to Angel's displeasure. She invites him to her house to practice, but he thankfully declines, citing a Celibacy Club meeting—with Quinn.

"You should go," Angel says suddenly, buzzing around Rachel in excitement. "You can get to know Quinn better. Show her that you share her interests, and then you'll become friends, and you'll fall in love, and everything will be perfect," she gushes.

Rachel flashes a calculating smile, and it's only after Angel has happily followed her into the meeting and listened to her ask where the boys are that she realizes the misunderstanding. "I said Quinn! Quinn, not Finn!" she shouts at Rachel, losing a few feathers in the process. "There has to be something wrong with this connection! Why are their names so freaking similar anyway?" The little rumble of thunder would make Angel roll her eyes if she had them in the physical sense. "I said freaking, not that other word," she mutters, glaring up at the sky before sulkily staring at Rachel.

Despite her annoyance, Angel finds the meeting more than a little amusing. She might be an angel, but she was never a saint. Sex is a biological imperative ingrained into humans in the very same way it is with all living creatures, and Quinn's attempt to completely suppress her nature are bound to lead to disaster. It's not about the teasing, or even the pleasing—it's all about acceptance and consideration.

"Remember," Quinn tells everyone, "if the balloon pops, the noise makes the angels cry."

"Actually, it will make me laugh," Angel says with a snicker. Quinn's brow furrows, and she glances in Angel's direction with a frown. Angel huffs out an incredulous, "Really? You seem to hear me loud and clear, but with Rachel, it's like I'm talking through a wall. How is that even fair?"

Quinn doesn't answer her, but the balloon between her and the tall boy pops, causing Angel to laugh and Quinn to rage. Then Rachel voices her opinion of Quinn's methods and storms out, and Angel is forced to label this plan a failure and follow after her charge.

Still, she thinks it's only prudent to whisper into Rachel's ear, "The tall boy has such atrocious rhythm. Can you really imagine that translating to more intimate activities? You're not really missing out on much by waiting until you're…oh…let's say…twenty-five." She can only hope that suggestion will actually get through.

It's not long before Quinn insinuates herself into the choir room, and Rachel doesn't seem pleased. Angel can sympathize, but she can also see the opportunity presented to her. She whispers into Rachel's ear how lovely Quinn's singing voice is, and how much better a dancer she is than the tall boy, but Rachel only crosses her arms and huffs. Angel does the same, metaphorically speaking, of course, because metaphors are important.

When the Glee Club holds a car wash to raise money, Angel hovers around just to make sure that nothing goes amiss. She can see Rachel's eyes drifting repeatedly to Quinn and that devil girl, who both have considerably more of their flesh on display than is usually revealed by their uniforms. "Careful, there, little star. I think you're drooling." Rachel turns her face away from the crowd and surreptitiously brushes the corner of her lips with the back of her fingers. "Are you really not noticing how you stare at her?" Angel wonders. "Sometimes, I wish that I was psychic enough to know what's going on in that head of yours."

Rachel tosses her sponge into the bucket and excuses herself from the tall boy. "I'm going to get a drink of water," she explains, walking past the car that Quinn and Santana are washing. Santana grins wickedly and points her hose in Rachel's direction. Angel glares at her, bouncing into her path and concentrating on the nozzle until the water explodes backwards out of the joint instead of the tip, shooting up into Santana's face.

"Hijo de puta," she curses, tossing the hose away from her. Quinn squeals as it flies in her direction and stumbles back, tripping over the bucket beside her and falling right into Rachel, who reflexively attempts to catch her before staggering under the unexpected weight and landing on her back with Quinn sprawled on top of her.

Angel cringes, just a little, because she didn't exactly mean for that to happen, but she certainly doesn't want the opportunity to go to waste. "Ask her if she's okay," Angel commands.

"Are you okay?" Quinn mumbles bashfully, and Angel groans in frustration because once again, the wrong human is listening to her.

"I don't think my talent is broken," Rachel mutters dazedly, "although you're heavier than you look."

"Rachel!" Angel screams, spreading her wings in irritation. "Why would you say that?"

Quinn's demeanor turns icy, and she growls, slapping the ground next to Rachel's head. "Stay away from me, Man Hands," she hisses, "and stay away from Finn," she adds before scrambling up. She brushes off Santana's attempt to help her and stalks away, leaving Rachel on the ground, completely unguarded from the bucket of soapy water that Santana pours over her head.

Angel sighs. "You know, you kind of deserved that one."

Rachel sputters and wipes her eyes. "That's not fair," she whines, sitting up and pushing her wet hair from her face.

"Exactly what I've been saying," Angel agrees.

xx

What happens next isn't something that Angel could have foreseen. She finds out exactly when Rachel does that Quinn is carrying a new life, and she testily wonders where the girl's guardian angel is and what could possibly cause them to be so completely absent when their charge is in need. Angel hasn't once caught a glimpse of any of her brethren watching over the girl, and it ruffles her feathers more than a little. Rachel's face falls at the discovery, and Angel follows her into the bathroom where she watches Rachel cry. She senses that those tears are for Quinn more than the tall boy, and she doesn't even need to encourage Rachel to offer Quinn support—Rachel does that all on her own.

But that Shakespeare fellow was certainly onto something when he said that the course of true love never did run smooth, and instead of being grateful for Rachel's help, Quinn nearly corners her against a locker, threatening her and demanding that she back off. Angel can barely keep up with the argument that follows, so caught up in their clashing auras and the thread pulsing between them.

"You're right. I…I've helped you not because it's the right thing to do," Rachel says, "but because I had romantic ulterior motives."

"Oh, please…it was all for her," Angel interjects, and there are five journal pages filled with Rachel's lamentations over Quinn's condition to prove it, but the argument moves on without Rachel making that particular confession.

"And I'd practice a little more because you obviously have a lot you need to express," Rachel snaps, staring down at Quinn from her position on the stairway.

There's a moment—all heaving breath and flashing eyes—where Angel hangs on the edge of a breeze, waiting for something to happen. "Oh my heavens, will you just kiss her already?" she practically begs, not even caring which of them actually hears her this time if it means that one of them will make a move.

Quinn leans forward, ever-so-slightly, and Angel begins to think that this might be it, but then Quinn is pulling back with an angry, "Oh, you have no idea," before she spins on her heel and stalks away.

"Ugh! You two are so frustrating!" Angel laments.

Unfortunately, Angel soon discovers that her level of frustration over her little star's interactions with Quinn won't decrease anytime in the near future. There's only so much that she can do, short of taking on a corporeal form and actually slapping some sense into her charge. It's like that with every human. She can watch and whisper and nudge. She can even engineer the occasional tangible hint—she still maintains that tying shoestrings together and causing hoses to backfire certainly do count in the category of hints, no matter what her supervisor says—but she isn't supposed to take corporeal form to directly interfere in any matter not deemed essential to the continuation of her human's predetermined lifespan. Breaking that rule could mean having her wings clipped.

So she yells, begs, and cajoles through a baby, multiple breakups, and a kind-of friendship.

When Quinn is left homeless, Angel excitedly reminds her little star about the spare bedroom in her house, but Quinn tells Rachel to go before she musters up the courage to offer it.

When Rachel engages in one of those odd rituals performed at human social gatherings meant to encourage random acts of lip-to-lip contact, Angel perfectly positions the bottle during Rachel's spin to point at Quinn, but that sockless boy who's constantly singing leans over at the very last second and ruins her careful planning.

When Quinn tells Rachel that she doesn't belong in Lima because she's meant for greater things—at least, that's how Angel attempts to translate it to her stubborn charge, but she suspects that Rachel willfully ignores her—Angel helps her write the perfect song for Quinn, humming the melody and watching in pride as the words flow from Rachel onto the page, but Rachel stubbornly insists that it's all for that tall boy.

When he complains about escorting Quinn to their annual ball, Angel encourages Rachel to step in and give her the perfect evening. Well, actually, Rachel does get the part about the gardenia right, but she allows the tall boy to take all the credit. Angel nearly fades away in shock when Rachel actually listens to her and follows after Quinn to make sure she's okay instead of chasing after the boy. The thread between them glows brighter when Rachel says, "You're a very pretty girl, Quinn...the prettiest girl I've ever met, but you're a lot more than that," and Angel almost thinks that her charge has finally reached the turning point, but no—she's far too stubborn for that.

Angel would bang her head against the lockers repeatedly if she were able to. Okay, so she had actually attempted it once and ended up hovering inside with a smelly gym sock and some unrecognizable, sticky substance that Angel prefers not to identify. She'll never do that again.

She loses more than a few feathers—okay, she practically molts both of her wings many times over—watching Rachel and Quinn repeatedly take two steps forward and three steps back. She loses some in the hallways, some in the auditorium inside the piano, a whole lot more in the bathrooms, and watches them scatter into the breeze under the bleachers.

And that tall boy keeps undoing all of Angel's hard work with Rachel! Every time she convinces her charge to move on, he inevitably does something to pull her back in. Angel comes very, very close to clipping her own wings when he proposes, just for the pleasure of punching him in the nose. Instead, she barely holds onto her temper and begs, "Rachel, say no."

Rachel does not say no.

"This is unacceptable! Your thread leads to Quinn," Angel points out, tugging hard on Rachel's aura. "It does not lead to him. Look," she sweeps her wings through the empty air between Rachel and Finn, "nothing," but of course, Rachel can't see anything. She's convinced that there's some tether there between her and the tall boy only because he told her so.

"Please, Rachel," Angel begs softly once her little star is alone. "I know you don't always listen to me, but you really should this time. This isn't right. I can feel it. This way will lead to bad things."

"He loves me," Rachel whispers, worrying her lip.

"Quinn could love you too, if only you'd allow her."

"He's the one thing in my life that I'm sure of right now," Rachel says with a determined nod.

"He's the wrong thing," Angel says sadly.

She prefers not to dwell on the number of times that Rachel has resisted her subtle (and not so subtle) guidance. It's become something of a joke up in the ether, and she's a little bit tired of her fellow angels laughing over Rachel Berry defying her every attempt to push her in the right direction. But this—Rachel stepping so completely off her destined path—is nothing short of catastrophic. Rachel's, "Yes," is the one sound that does make the angels cry—one in particular, at any rate.

It makes Quinn cry too, though she doesn't let anyone see. Angel sees because she sneaks a peak while Rachel is preoccupied with the tall boy. She's slightly distressed that she still doesn't see the girl's guardian hovering around to comfort her. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, because there's no one else to say it.

"She can't marry him," Quinn whimpers so quietly, brushing at her tears. "She meant for so much more than Finn Hudson."

"She's meant for the stage," Angel agrees, "and for you," she adds gently, wondering if her words will be heard. Quinn only shakes her head, buries her face in her hands, and cries.

Angel makes several desperate attempts to alter Rachel's incorrect course, but they're all met with equal resistance. She slips Rachel's copy of Funny Girl into that mechanical box on her date night with the tall boy, hoping that Rachel will see the message in her favorite film, but the boy makes a face and asks to watch something else. Rachel doesn't argue. Angel tunes Rachel's portable orchestra to play "Paradise By the Dashboard Light" on repeat, but Rachel only thinks that it's a wonderful idea for a future performance piece and excitedly talks to the curly-haired choir director. Angel leaves Rachel's electronic writing tablet open to an article on the correlation of teenage marriages to poverty and divorce rates, but Rachel determinedly closes it without even looking.

On the Feast of Saint Valentine, Quinn serenades Rachel. Okay, so it's technically a group endeavor, but Quinn escorts Rachel through the courtyard with a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes, and Angel wishes that she had the power to make everyone else disappear. Rachel is happy in the moment. Her eyes linger on Quinn as they have done so many times in the past, but the ring on her finger is an impenetrable barrier between them, even as the thread that binds them seems stronger than it's ever been.

All too soon, Angel is out of time, and none of her guidance means anything because Rachel is forsaking her destined path in order to marry the tall boy immediately. "Why are you so determined to do this right now?" she demands.

"Life's too short to waste a moment," Rachel whispers to her own reflection in the mirror. "This is the right thing to do."

Angel hovers over her shoulder. "It's not, and you know it."

"We'll be happy. I…I'm sure we'll be happy," Rachel says with an uncertain nod. "Finn will…he'll find his destiny in New York. With me."

"That's not his destiny," Angel tries to explain, willing Rachel to hear her. "This is not yours. Why can't you see?"

But Rachel still makes her way out of the bathroom, determined to marry the boy today. Angel lingers in the hallway as Quinn rounds a corner and calls after Rachel, once again clad in a familiar uniform, but now with her heart pinned to her sleeve. For the first time, Angel catches a glimpse of Quinn's guardian in the aura shadowing her. "It's about time you showed up," she grumbles.

The other aura strengthens. "She needs me today."

"And she didn't need you when she was homeless and pregnant?" Angel fires back. "Or when her hair was pink?"

The other guardian sighs. "Sometimes we have to let them fall so they can learn to stand on their own."

"That's bull…" the thunderclap stops Angel short, "that's extremely simplistic."

"Have you never considered that the reason your charge is so immune to your voice is because she's become too used to hearing it? The more time you spend hovering around them, the easier you are to tune out. Lucy listens to me when she really needs to, although I fear that the voice of another will prove more irresistible today."

"Why?" Angel asks warily, suddenly realizing that if Quinn's guardian has been pulled here now, it can be for nothing good, especially when her own senses are spinning with the certainty that this will all end badly for everyone.

The other guardian doesn't answer, but as she fades slightly back into the ether, a profound sense of sadness envelops Angel.

Quinn's halting voice captures Angel's attention. "When you were singing that song, you were singing it to Finn and only Finn, right?"

"Say no," Angel yells, flapping her wings madly as she flies over to Rachel. "Tell her that it's never been only Finn. Tell her, Rachel! Tell her now before you lose her forever."

Rachel drops her eyes, hesitating just a moment before she nods slightly.

"No," Angel cries. "No, no, no, no."

Quinn takes a trembling breath and forces a smile. "He really does make you so happy. I want to support you, Rachel, and Finn, and come to the wedding. If it's not too late."

"Oh, no," Angel whispers, watching Rachel smile and rush to hug Quinn. She can see by the expression on Quinn's face that she's resigned to the inevitable. "Unacceptable," she mutters, reaching out to tug Rachel's aura again. Rachel's eyelids flutter closed, and she hugs Quinn a little tighter. Angel swears that she can hear Rachel's heart race a little faster, and she decides to do something about it, reaching out with a flick of her wing to drop another hint.

Rachel sighs and loosens her grip, stepping back from the embrace—or trying to—but her coat is snagged on the cross fastened around Quinn's neck.

"Wait, wait," Quinn mumbles, ducking her head and leaning forward, "we're caught."

"Oh," Rachel gasps. "I'm sorry. Here," she says, reaching up to untangle them at the same time Quinn does. Their fingers brush together, and Rachel drops her hand as if she's been burned, instinctively stepping back and causing Quinn to stumble forward.

"Okay, stop moving," Quinn orders, stepping closer and gripping her cross as she tries to work it free from the threads of Rachel's coat. Rachel goes still except for the deep breath that she takes. Her eyes fasten onto Quinn's face, so close to her own.

Angel leans closer when she sees the awareness settle over Quinn. Skilled fingers free the cross just before a quick indrawn breath passes her lips, and she lifts her gaze to meet Rachel's. Angel seriously considers channeling her energy to give them that last little push, but then Rachel moves so slightly, tilting her head just so, and whether she intends to kiss Quinn or not doesn't really matter because Quinn closes the scant distance between them and softly brushes her lips across Rachel's waiting mouth in a hesitant kiss.

Angel nearly melts into the floor—she can hardly believe it's finally happening.

Quinn captures Rachel's lips more fully, and for a few heartbeats, Rachel responds, until she remembers herself and pulls away abruptly, staring at Quinn in wide-eyed horror. She shakes her head in silent denial and takes off in a jog down the hallway. Quinn calls out her name and takes a single faltering step forward before she stops, staring after Rachel with glistening eyes as she presses trembling fingers to her lips.

"Oh, hell no," Angel grunts, ignoring the loud clap of thunder. She flings a dismissive wing in the air. "You can chastise me for my language later," she growls and concentrates on her charge.

She materializes next to Rachel's automobile just as Rachel is collapsing inside with quiet sobs racking her body. She fumbles with her keys in an attempt to jam them into the ignition, but frankly, Angel is done being subtle with her hints. She slides her wings under the front hood and pulls on every loose part she can find. When Rachel finally manages to turn the key, the motor makes a wretched grinding noise, but fails to start. She desperately tries three more times, tearfully begging the car to start, before she slams the palm of her hand against the steering wheel.

"Don't run away, little star," Angel pleads. "Go back in there and talk to Quinn."

Rachel sniffles and wipes at her eyes. "I can't," she whispers. "I can't do this."

Angel is in the midst of contemplating how to get Rachel out of her automobile and back into the school when she notices Quinn rapidly approaching. The aura of her guardian is still faintly noticeable at her shoulder. Quinn runs to the automobile, sliding to a stop next to the window and rapping her knuckles against the glass.

"Rachel, please," she begs with a tremor in her voice. "Please talk to me."

Rachel takes a deep breath before she rolls her window down, but she keeps her gaze stubbornly trained on the dashboard and remains silent. Quinn leans down and braces her hands against the open window. "You kissed me," she husks.

Rachel's eyes snap up to her. "You're the one who kissed me."

Quinn huffs out a breath and closes her eyes for a moment. "Fine. I kissed you," she admits, looking at Rachel intently, "but you kissed me back."

"It…it was a mistake," Rachel stammers. "I'm marrying Finn today."

Quinn's knuckles turn white as she grips the window frame. "Please don't marry him."

"You just said that you wanted to support us."

"I lied, okay?" Quinn admits shakily. "I mean, I want to support you…I do…but I don't want you to marry him. I just figured that I finally had to accept that you…you weren't going to change your mind, but that was before you kissed me."

"You kissed me," Rachel insists again.

"And you kissed me back," Quinn repeats doggedly. "Tell me you didn't feel anything," she quietly challenges. "Tell me again that it's Finn and only Finn."

Rachel shakes her head, looking back at her steering wheel. "It's…"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me, Rachel."

Rachel slowly lifts her gaze back to Quinn, pursing her lips determinedly. "It's…" Her eyelids flutter shut. "You're confusing me."

"Don't marry him," Quinn pleads again. "If you even have the smallest doubt that this is what you want…that being married right now to Finn Hudson will make you happy for the rest of your life...then you owe it to yourself and to him to slow all of this down."

"It's too late," Rachel whispers. "He's waiting for me."

Quinn growls in frustration. "It's not too late until you say I do. You told me this was our year…our chance to get it right. Even if…even if you don't feel anything at all for me, I think you know, deep down in your soul, that marrying Finn today isn't right."

"Listen to her Rachel," Angel urges, plucking at the thread that ties then together and watching it vibrate with energy.

Rachel turns her face away, staring silently at her steering wheel for a time. "My car won't start," she finally mumbles.

Quinn's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What?"

"My car won't start," Rachel says again. "I…if I were a different type of person, I'd take it as a sign."

Quinn bites her lips thoughtfully. "Divine intervention?"

"You're welcome," Angel interjects proudly. She feels a buzz of exasperation from Quinn's guardian, but she ignores it.

Rachel nods slowly. "Something like that."

"Rachel?" Quinn questions hesitantly.

"I…I felt…feel…something," she admits. "I don't know what it is, but it's…something."

Quinn's breath hitches. "What does that mean?"

Rachel nervously twists her engagement ring around her finger. "I…I don't know, but I think I need to talk to Finn." She glances up at Quinn with mournful eyes. "I don't suppose you could give me a ride."

Quinn chokes out a humorless laugh. "As long as it's not to your wedding."

Rachel sighs and rests her head back against her seat. "I think it might be considered in bad form to marry Finn two hours after I kissed his ex-girlfriend."

Quinn's lips quirk in subdued amusement. "I thought I kissed you."

"Semantics," Rachel says with a shrug.

xx

The tall boy does not react well.

Rachel doesn't mention Quinn or what happened between them. She only tells him that she feels they're rushing into a marriage for which neither of them is adequately prepared. She tells him that they should wait, at least until after they graduate, but he tells her that it's now or never. Rachel tearfully replies that it will have to be never and tries to give him back his ring. He immediately changes his mind and tells her that he'll wait, but Rachel insists that they should take the time to focus on what they each plan to do after graduation.

There is yelling, and there are tears. It isn't easy, and it isn't pretty.

Quinn offers her quiet support to Rachel and doesn't push for anything more than their kind-of-more-than-friendship right now. "Whenever you're ready," she says with a grin that makes Rachel smile in response.

The thread between them grows stronger, entwining their auras a little more each day.

When the winter finally breaks, Angel tags along on something that the humans call Senior Skip Day. She watches Rachel surreptitiously slip her hand into Quinn's as they race through the amusement park with their friends. Rachel's eyes alight on the Ferris Wheel, and she suggests that they all ride it, but they tell her it's boring and start to walk away. Rachel frowns and begins to follow, but Quinn shakes her head and tugs Rachel toward the Ferris Wheel, calling out to their friends that they'll meet them later. Rachel grins and skips along beside Quinn.

"Are you even tall enough to ride this?" Quinn questions in good humor as they wait in line.

Rachel lightly slaps her arm. "I used to ride it with my daddy when I was a little girl," she recalls fondly. "I love looking down at everything from up there."

Quinn laughs. "Of course you do." Rachel blushes and looks the ground until Quinn squeezes her hand and says, "I think it's cute."

They go around once in relative silence, sitting close together on the seat but not touching. Angel smiles to herself when they go around again, and when they're at the top, she focuses on the gears until the wheel comes to an abrupt stop—if anyone asks, she'll call it a subtle hint. The car swings on its hinges, and Quinn jumps a little, reaching out to grab Rachel's hand. Rachel giggles and turns to look at Quinn with a comforting smile.

"Are you okay?"

Quinn licks her lips nervously as she glances down. "Um…maybe distract me a little? I'm not overly fond of heights."

Rachel frowns. "Why didn't you say something, Quinn? We didn't have to ride this."

"But you wanted to," Quinn answers like it's just that simple. Angel would swoon if she were capable.

Rachel smiles tremulously as her gaze travels over Quinn's face in barely concealed reverence. She leans over, capturing Quinn's lips in the best kind of distraction. Quinn releases little moan of pleasure and falls into the kiss, threading her fingers into Rachel's hair. When Rachel eventually pulls back, it's only far enough to whisper, "It feels just like flying," before her lips are once again pressed against Quinn's. Angel hums with pleasure, gently releasing her hold on the wheel when she she's sure that her charge is finally getting it right.

They don't let go of one another until they're back on the ground, and Quinn's smile is radiant as they step off the ride. They begin to walk through the park in search of their friends, but Quinn stops Rachel suddenly, pulling her around and dipping her head for a quick kiss right there in the midway. Rachel beams back at her, entwining their fingers.

"I think I owe you a cotton candy," Quinn says, nodding at a nearby vendor.

Rachel's eyebrows furrow in question before her eyes widen in realization, and she laughs. "Only if I can share it with you."

"Always," Quinn agrees, leaning in to kiss her again.

Angel watches the thread between them weave together into a gorgeous tapestry, alive with promise, and she knows that she's finally got Rachel pointed in the right direction—with no unfortunately, tall boys to impede her vision. She doesn't even care about how many feathers she had to lose along the way. She can't wait until the next heavenly picnic so she can finally point proudly at her little star and tell the other angels to kiss her wings.