When Rachel got the letter inviting her to Finn's wedding, she had broken down into tears. She ran her thumb over the engraved lettering on the front of the card, trying to cement in her mind that this was reality. She took a deep breath and opened the card, reading the date- about a month from then- and the name of the woman. Rachel wondered to herself what Addy Bryant was like. Was she pretty? Did she sing duets with Finn?

Within the next hour, her doorbell was ringing, but she didn't bother to get up to answer it. She couldn't be bothered, because, dammit, she was having an emotional breakdown and the door was really not that important.

Apparently the person on the other side disagreed because she heard the door opening anyway. She briefly scolded herself for not locking the door, but those thoughts were lost when she saw who had walked into her apartment.

"I almost wish I hadn't let Michael talk me out of bribing the mailman to not deliver to your house today," Kurt said, immediately sitting down next to Rachel, who had moved to the couch in the hour since receiving her invitation.

Rachel had no response to what Kurt had said, but she allowed him to pull her toward him into a sitting sideways hug. She tried to reign in her crying, but Kurt whispered in her ear that she didn't have to go, and she just cried all the harder.

Ever since they'd both gotten into NYADA, the two of them had grown closer. They had a lot of classes together and would always study together and help each other prepare for auditions. When Rachel had gotten her first role in an off-Broadway show, Kurt had been the first person she'd called after her fathers. Kurt was her best friend and had been there for her in her junior year of college when Finn broke it off with her, even though Finn was his brother. He'd sided with Rachel, which had upset Finn, but it was something Rachel was eternally grateful for.

After twenty more minutes of tears and soft reassurances and tissues, Rachel finally stopped crying enough for actual conversation to ensue.

"So you knew," Rachel said. It wasn't a question. It made sense that Kurt would know- Finn was his brother, after all. Kurt nodded regretfully.

"I thought of a million ways of how to tell you, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it," Kurt sighed.

Rachel wiped her nose again with a tissue in her hand. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. It's been three years since he broke things off. I just…" she trailed off. Kurt ran his hand up and down her arm affectionately.

"You're just in shock. You didn't even know he had someone serious in his life. Plus, you imagined yourself in her shoes for so long that this must seem like some sort of alternate universe," Kurt filled in for her gently. Now it was Rachel's turn to nod.

The rest of the days was spent watching old movies and eating ice cream, because Kurt insisted that was the only way to deal with heartache.

Finally, when it was starting to get late, Rachel insisted that Kurt should leave and get back to his boyfriend. Kurt adamantly declined, informing her that he'd told Michael that he would be staying over weeks ago when this day came. The two of them got ready for sleep, Kurt propping himself up on her sofa.

"Thanks for coming," Rachel murmured before heading to her room.

"Of course, sweetie," Kurt replied with a smile. "The moment I opened the mail I was on my way here."

Rachel stood in front of the sofa, teetering back and forth for a moment. Kurt tilted his head. "You're thinking about something," he observed.

"I'm thinking… that I want to go to the wedding," Rachel admitted. Kurt's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open before he collected himself and cleared his throat.

"Uh, sweetie, I'm not really sure that's the best idea," Kurt responded tentatively.

"No, I'm going. I need closure, and seeing him get married is the only way that I am going to get it. Plus, it will give me a chance to catch up with the rest of the Glee club. I haven't seen some of them in ages," Rachel said with more confidence.

Kurt bit his bottom lip, probably to keep himself from protesting. "Okay, but you have a month to change your mind if you want to," Kurt acquiesced after a short pause.

"Thank you. You're the best friend ever, you know that?" she said, a smile taking over her face for the first time since opening that fateful letter.

Kurt beamed back at her and pulled her in for a goodnight hug. "Duh," he agreed.


A month later, Rachel was getting off a plane with Kurt and Michael at her side in Ohio. The three of them were renting a car and making a long weekend out of the trip. The wedding was set for Saturday and it was currently Thursday afternoon, so they would be able to do some catching up before the actual wedding ceremony.

Kurt and Michael dropped Rachel off at her dads' house, promising to see her later. Rachel knocked on the door, which was immediately thrown open to reveal both of her fathers. Hiram embraced her in a tight hug first, without a single word, but was soon pulled back so Leroy could get his chance.

Once both of her fathers had enough of hugging, they stepped back. "We missed you, baby girl," her daddy said with a smile.

From there on, she caught the two up on her life in New York and the plane ride to Ohio. They, in turn, told her about little bits of news they'd picked up on about people Rachel remembered from Lima. As much as Rachel enjoyed playing catch-up with her dads, she really wanted some time alone, so she entered her old room before long.

It was just how she'd left it the last time, which wasn't much different than when she'd left it the summer before her freshman year of college. The only differences were most of the clothes in the closet were a little toned down from the animal sweaters and argyle.

Rachel collapsed face first into her bed, relishing in the comfort it provided, both literally and emotionally. It was familiar and safe, a reminder of when times had been fairly simple. Yes, high school had bee difficult, but much of it was actually fairly routine. She got up, did her workout, went to school, tried to avoid getting slushied, did her schoolwork, sang in Glee, and came home. She was the best singer at McKinley, and she knew it. Now, she was just one of many talented people all competing to get on Broadway. She no longer was a shoe-in for every solo, no longer felt on top of the world.

And she no longer had that perfect leading man to help her along the way. Well, okay, she'd be the first to admit that Finn wasn't exactly perfect, but he was the closest thing to it she'd ever had. Except maybe Kurt. But Kurt was her gay friend, not her boyfriend. There was a difference, as Kurt would often painfully point out to her. In fact, he would always be trying to get Rachel to go on dates with guys ever since a couple months after Finn broke up with her. She'd refused so many times that he even tried offering up blind dates- with men and women- but she rarely went. Kurt was convinced for a while that she was secretly repressing her gay side and that was why she hated all the dates with men, but after she tried to appease him and go on a few with some women and those failed just as much, he started to give up. His most recent theory was that she was becoming an asexual workaholic. Which was sort of true.

All that thinking of Finn and Kurt made Rachel roll over onto her back and pull her phone out of her pocket, which she still had on silent from the plane ride. When she examined it, she realized that she'd missed three texts, all from Kurt.

911, bachelor party invite from Finn! It's tomorrow night, and apparently Puck planned it. –Kurt

She smirked at the text and shook her head. Kurt would probably die at a bachelor party, especially if Puck was the best man in charge of it. Puck's parties always involved alcohol, a loss of clothing, and mayhem, even back in high school. Apparently, not much had changed there, since that description sounded pretty much like an adequate bachelor party.

Rachel scrolled to the next message.

Actually, we're going to the bachelorette party. Ignore my previous 911. –Kurt

Bachelorette party? And Kurt had said we. Did that mean him and Michael, or was he implying that she was invited as well? Honestly, just about the last thing Rachel felt like doing on a Friday night before Finn's wedding was spend it around alcohol, probably male strippers, and Finn's fiancée.

Rachel? Are you there? –Kurt

Rachel let out a sigh. She would have to get back to Kurt soon before he started blowing up her phone with text messages and voicemails. She knew this from experience.

So, she typed a reply.

Yeah, sorry, my phone was still off from the plane. Am I invited to this bachelorette party too? Because I really don't want to go if I am. –Rachel

She pressed send and waited for Kurt's reply. Predictably, within a minute, she got one.

Of course you are! All the girls are. Well, all of the ones under forty, according to Finn, although apparently Puck protested this, saying some older women were hot, but Finn pointed out that Puck's not allowed in the bachelorette party anyway. You should call Puck. He's the one who set this all up. –Kurt

Rachel rolled her eyes at the text. Of course this was all Puck's fault. But really, she should call Puck. The two of them had sort of lost touch a little after college, but they had been fairly close while Rachel was at NYADA. They had Skyped each other frequently and talked on the phone sometimes. She'd learned that Puck's pool cleaning business had actually taken off, so he was making a real living off of it. After she'd graduated, however, Rachel had lost touch with almost everyone but Kurt from high school. It wasn't like she'd done it on purpose, but she'd just thrown herself into her work and left her personal life behind.

Picking up the phone, Rachel scrolled through her contacts and pressed send when she got to Puck's name, hoping that he still had the same cell number.

"Hello?" Puck answered. Rachel smiled just at his voice.

"Hey, Puck. It's Rachel," she responded.

"Hey! My hot Jew! How's it hanging?" Puck replied with enthusiasm. Rachel shook her head. There was the Puck she knew.

"Fine. I'm back in Lima, for the wedding, you know. And I was informed that you were in charge of the pre-wedding festivities, which was an excellent choice on Finn's party when taking into account your considerable experience when it comes to alcoholic endeavors and generally wreaking havoc, which I understand is a prerequisite for the responsibilities presented as being the best man," Rachel said.

Puck laughed on his end of the phone. "You haven't changed at all, have you?" he chuckled. Rachel huffed at that, but didn't get a chance to defend her way of speaking. "Listen, I think you might have already heard from Kurt, but you're invited to the bachelorette party. I know you're probably thinking you don't really wanna go, but I wanted to tell you that Tina and Mercedes will be there too. Actually, I think Brittany and maybe Santana will be going too, but I'm not sure."

Rachel thought about that. "As much as I appreciate the invitation, I really will have to decline. My fathers are thrilled at the chance to spend time with me before the wedding, and I will be spending Friday night with them instead of attending a party with mostly people that I have never met and others that I haven't spoken to in years," she replied.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see Tina and Mercedes. In fact, she was quite looking forward to seeing them, but she would still get an opportunity to do so at the wedding and the reception, she was sure. She would rather not have to spend any extra time around Finn's fiancée, who she couldn't even think of by name. She disliked her on principle.

As for Brittany and Santana, that held no draw to her at all. She was honestly a little frightened of the Latina, and though Brittany had always seemed nice, she had never been particularly close to the blonde cheerleader in high school.

"Bullshit," Puck called her out. Rachel let out a sound of indignation.

"I'll have you know that my fathers are truly excited to see me and I-" Rachel was cut off.

"I'm not saying that part's not true, but that's not why you're not going to the party. You don't wanna go because Addy's gonna be there and you're pissed at Finn for marrying her," Puck corrected. Rachel opened her mouth to deny it, but found she couldn't. It was true, as much as she wanted to be more mature than that. Puck seemed to take her silence for agreement, because he continued. "Look, I'm not letting you mope around the night before the wedding, so I'll leave the bachelor party and the two of us can go out to a different bar."

"That's nice of you to offer, Noah, but I will be perfectly fine at home," Rachel declined. She used his first name in the hopes that he would realize that she was being serious.

"Nope, not an option. Either you go to the bachelorette party or we go to our own little party outside of Lima," Puck gave her an ultimatum. Rachel chewed on her lip, trying to think it through. There was no way she was going to the party. She had never even considered that as a viable possibility. So, she supposed a couple of hours out with Puck wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Fine, I'll go with you. When do you want to do this?" Rachel gave in. She imagined Puck smirking on the other side of the phone.

"The bachelor party starts at seven, and I should really be there for a little while, so I'll pick you up at ten?" Puck suggested.

"Ten? That's kind of late, isn't it?" Rachel replied. Then again, this was Noah Puckerman she was talking to.

"Not at all, Princess. In fact, I'll probably go back to the other party when we're done. I'll see you tomorrow, alright? Oh, and there's one other thing I forgot to mention," Puck's voice changed in his last sentence, sounding a little dubious.

"Oh god, what?" Rachel groaned.

"It is a bachelor party night, so once the party starts, I am not going anywhere without strippers for the rest of the night," Puck responded with a devious tone.

Rachel groaned audibly. "Fine, whatever. A strip club it is."

"I knew you'd see it my way." She could hear the grin in his voice. "Later, Jew."

"Bye." And with the clicking sound of Puck hanging up, Rachel felt as though she'd somehow sealed her fate.


By the time ten o'clock on Friday came rolling around, Rachel was seriously regretting agreeing to Puck's insane little plan. She was imagining what was currently going on at the simultaneous bachelor and bachelorette parties. She also had the stray thought that Puck had better not be getting too drunk at the party. If he got into a car crash because he was drinking too much, she'd kill him. And if he did show up to her house drunk, she was definitely driving the two of them to the strip club.

She had texted Kurt about her plans with Puck soon after she'd talked to him, and Kurt was simultaneously disappointed and excited. He was disappointed because it meant she wouldn't be with him at the bachelorette party, but he was excited at the prospect of Rachel actually getting out of the house still, and with Noah Puckerman no less. Kurt had teased her that she was probably going to end up in worse shape than any of them because Puck would be her chaperone.

When she heard a knock on the door, she opened it to reveal Puck standing there with a huge and slightly guilty grin on his face.

"You've been drinking," Rachel stated the obvious. She could smell it on him- was that vodka?

"Duh," he drawled. "C'mon, we've gott'n after party to get ta." He reached out and slung his arm over her shoulders, leading her to his car. Puck attempted to get in the driver's seat, but Rachel promptly stole his keys and demanded that he get in the other side.

Rachel followed Puck's directions- she was thankful that he was not too inebriated that he had them ending in another state or something- and soon enough found herself parking outside of a strip club.

"Let's go," Puck said with some excitement. The two of them entered the club and Puck showed Rachel to his favorite spot at most strip clubs, though he'd never actually been to this one before- a table situated between the bar and the raised platform where the strippers were performing. Puck went to grab the two of them some drinks while Rachel sat down and watched the strippers.

She'd never really understood the fascination with pole dancing. How was a pole considered sexy? The women, wearing very little clothing and slowly losing more, on the other hand, were quite attractive, but the pole did nothing to increase the appeal to her. Currently, the girl closest to the table Rachel was sitting at was spinning around the pole in a position that, the diva had to admit, looked as though it took some serious acrobatic skill. She couldn't see the girl's face since it was covered in her shoulder-length brown hair.

Puck came back with two drinks, not bothering to explain what was in them. Rachel pressed him for details, but he just replied, "You don't need to know. What you do need is to get shit-faced."

Rachel couldn't deny that she had a strong desire to lose herself a little by getting drunk. She downed the drink fairly quickly.

"I do have to admit, I have never been to a strip club besides the time when we were retrieving Sam, and those were male strippers. Watching females strippers is quite different than that, and I am not altogether opposed to the idea," Rachel commented, now starting her third drink.

Puck just chuckled. "So you're saying the chicks are hot?"

Rachel scrunched up her face. Was that what she was saying? She enjoyed watching the women displaying their obvious skills and the extra amount of skin on display was not disagreeable in the least.

"I'm gonna go get a refill," Puck informed her. Rachel nodded absently, watching as the brunette in front of their table got off the stage and a new girl took the stage. When the new one, a blonde, took to the pole, Puck was already gone.

Rachel scrutinized the new stripper, appreciating her form. She had to have very strong leg muscles to pull off that move. Rachel almost moved closer to the stage, wanting to get a better look at the blonde with the short and choppy hair. She looked almost… familiar.

And that's when Rachel's jaw dropped open.

"Quinn?"


A/N: I know, I know, if any of you have read my other things, you probably know that I'm working on literally a million things. Including an essay that's due in a week for college (that I haven't started). Ha... ha...

Anyway, I've, again, disregarded all of my other things and started yet another new project. And I know that many Faberry stories have probably started out much like this and all, but this is my spin of things. I like Faberry. It makes me happy. Ergo, I write it.

Please drop a review, it only takes a second. And it makes me smile.