Hello, everyone! VioletBeaurgarde is feeling a bit sassy and in need of a distraction in the form of an edgy way off-character Rachel with an extremely bad attitude. Most other Glee characters are pretty much in character and follow canon during the first season with a few other season details intermixed. This is me playing around. Do you think I should continue? Please let me know!

Warning: Rachel's language and thoughts would make 50 Cent blush. There are a few sexual references, so put your eyes elsewhere, if this isn't your thing.

I am in no way affiliated with Glee, and they wouldn't want this version of Rachel anyway.

Baby's Got the Bends

"Intelligent but maladjusted" is what the shrink called me. Yeah, well he could just go piss off, and I told him so on multiple occasions during our weekly sessions. I could also tell him that maladjusted was just another word for fucked up. That's what I was- fucked up. Being different had a way of messing with your head. I was Rachel Barbra Berry, a name I had hated as long as I could remember. What had my dads been thinking naming me after a biblical character even more whack than me and some Jewish princess with a big beak? The name Berry was bad enough to deal with in elementary school as in: Hairy Berry because of the pit hair I developed before any other girl in school (Thank God for Venus razors!), Scary Berry- Well, I earned that one pretty much with my charming demeanor, and my personal favorite- Fairy Berry, in honor of my two homosexual dads, whom I loved more than all the other people combined in this sorry-assed town of Lima, Ohio. That's why the last nickname hurt so much, I think.

The key thing I learned in elementary school: eleven-year-olds are brutal, man. They still scared the shit out of me, and I was sweet sixteen now, baby. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed. Huh! Not without my say-so. I'd done some kissing of my own, if you take my meaning, but I wasn't really into that right now. Guys my age pretty much thought about one thing, and once they got into your panties, they were done with you, so thanks but no thanks. Who wanted some asshole who only saw breasts, a vagina, and a butt anyway. I guess maybe I was off men in general at the moment. What's a frustrated heterosexual girl to do?

That's why... while leaning against my car after school in the McKinley High parking lot waiting for my best friend, Kurt Hummel, to finally haul his ass out of his super-secret GLAAD meeting... and God-of-all-he-surveyed, Finn Hudson, walked by, I just turned my head away in disgust. Ironically, Finn had to be one of the worst offenders in the aforementioned "men-have-one-thought-only" rule- without him even trying. Also, he and his prissy, pissy girlfriend, Quinn "Never Gonna Get It" Fabray set my teeth on edge. I would have felt kind of bad for the guy if he hadn't been such a tool, because Quinn had him by the proverbial balls, and I'd bet my last blunt that they were stone cold blue by now. Quinn was gorgeous, of course, and head cheerleader. Hell, if I'd swung that way, I'd even want to tap that. But what a bitch! President of the Celibacy Club, honor roll student, and the perfect little daddy's girl. I try not to judge people (stop laughing), but she was just so sanctimonious and well, just thought she was all that. She was in a couple of my classes, and it suited us both to ignore each others' existence most of the time.

So everybody in the whole school knew that Finn "Mr. Tall, Nice, All-American-Boy, Quarterback" Hudson was not getting any from Quinn the Ice Queen, but it wasn't for lack of trying on his part. When I turned back around at that very moment, I could see him leering down Quinn's cheering top in hopes of catching a peak at her boobs. The advantage of being a hulking 6 foot 3 inch football player, I guess. I wouldn't know, at 5 foot 2.

For a second I wondered if all parts of Finn were proportional. Hmmm... The big tool could have a … big tool. I smirked and tilted my head trying to gauge Finn's package through his jeans, just as Kurt pranced up to me.

Kurt- I loved the guy, but he sure didn't make it easy for himself being the only truly out gay kid at McKinley. A kilt? Really? Mel Gibson was sexy in a skirt, he had argued. I had my doubts about today's ensemble.

"Hey, Hairy Berry," Quinn called out snidely, "What are you and your boyfriend looking at? Isn't there a Freak Show in town that's hiring, so you wouldn't have to... like... share each others' clothes?" Quinn laughed at her own lame joke. I was confused and furious by her attack. It came out of no where for no apparent reason I could fathom. As I had said before, we usually ignored each other. She gave Kurt and me the foot to head you're-such-losers look.

That did it! Bitch messed with me and mine on the wrong damn day. I slowly moved to stand from my casual slouch against my beat up VW bug, and took 3 purposeful strides over until I stood toe-to-toe with her, sneering into her perfectly made-up face and said, "I'm looking at..." I returned her rude head-to-foot look "... A frigid, stick up her ass, Marilyn Monroe wanna-be tease, who can't even keep her Neanderthal boyfriend satisfied."

As I finished my tirade, I strutted the 2 additional steps to where Finn Hudson stood with his mouth hanging open and his brows beetling together and grabbed the front of his letterman jacket in my hands, pulling him down towards me. I rose on my toes and planted a long, hot, open mouth kiss -with tongue, of course- on him that had even me a little hot and bothered when I was done. Stepping back I smiled sweetly up into his dazed hazel eyes. I touched the corners of my lips with my finger tips, murmuring flirtatiously, "Call me if you ever get your balls back from that one, Studly-Do-Right."

I turned on my heels and stalked back to my car, got in, and drove away, hoping Kurt had had the sense to get in before I drove off without him. What the fuck was that? What had I been thinking?

I looked in my rearview mirror to see Finn Hudson staring after my car with his mouth hanging open- again. The boy was a Venus flytrap for chrissakes. I let out a satisfied chuckle when, to finally get his attention, Quinn punched him in the shoulder so hard it made him wince. It was only then, he stopped his gaping after my car and turned to let her melt his eardrums about our kiss.

Damn, he was a tool, but that kiss was... I think my panties were still smoking. Even with the height difference, it had definitely been well worth the climb. I smiled to myself. The look on Quinn's face- priceless.

"Rachel, what the hell were you thinking kissing my step-brother like that in front of God and everybody?" Kurt sounded a little hysterical, "You do realize he lives in my house with my dad and his mom, and me. Or did you forget last week's lasagna night, when he sat across from you at the dinner table?" Ugh, actually I didn't need the reminder of how his mouth was often open- even while chewing his food.

Well, damn, I had forgotten the little complication of Finn and Kurt's family living arrangements in the heat of my anger at Quinn. I was always doing that. Acting without thinking. Mentally shrugging, I glanced at Kurt, "No worries, darling. I bet I made his day. He sure ain't getting that from Quinn." I smiled over at him cajolingly.

At Kurt's glower, I changed my tactics and shot him a contrite look. He was a good friend to me, putting up with my shit, and his step-mom made great lasagna, and Burt, Kurt's dad, helped fix my vintage bug once in a while. Kurt tried to have me for dinner at his house at least once a week for my "mental well-being," he said. My dads were always trying to foist vegan rabbit food crap on me at home, for my health and for general animal rights everywhere, so they said. Whatever. Sometimes a girl just needed a big piece of meat, speaking of which... "I could apologize to Finn, if you want, Kurt. Just another moment brought to you by temporary Berry-insanity. You know how things like what Quinn said really put my panties in a twist."

What was with me and thoughts of my panties today? Maybe I did need to find someone to scratch my itch. If my reaction to Studson and our scorching, hot kiss was any indication- sooner rather than later.

O-kay. Thanks for reading and hope Rachel didn't totally mortify anyone. Reviews would be fantastic, but only if they're nicer than Rachel. Lots of you can probably see where this is headed. Should we go there? Let me know.