A/N: This is the first chapter of Edge of the Moment, a future Finchel story set in New York. I am calling this the NYPD!Finn verse because Finn's chosen career path takes him into law enforcement. This is a vignette series type fic, so while the chapters take place in the same universe they will jump around in time. (Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine)
The clock blinked 12:02 AM, and the petite brunette rolled in bed, unable to sleep; she ran her hand over the empty bed, instantly missing the man who usually filled it, and she let out a sigh. The California King sized bed had never felt so empty before tonight, and she wondered how many nights would be like this. Sometimes she missed the days when she, Kurt, Blaine, and Finn lived in the dinky apartment with two bedrooms, a single bathroom, and barely working heat and air, if only because it meant that she wouldn't be alone while Finn was out on his first night patrol with his training officer. She'd promised herself that she would be brave, that she wouldn't worry too much, and yet she couldn't sleep. Instinctively she reached for the phone, dialing Kurt's number from memory.
"Rachel, when I told you that you could call me anytime I didn't mean that you should take that literally. If I have dark circles in the morning, I will come and kill you personally, and no I do not care that your boyfriend, my brother, is one of the newest members of the NYPD." She could hear the exhaustion in her best friend's voice, and a wave of guilt struck her.
"But he's out there, right now." She whispered. "I'm here in the empty apartment, and it's a great deal lonelier than I imagined it would be."
"Wasn't that the point of you getting the Tiny Terror?" Rachel glanced down at the tiny Papillion curled up at the foot of the bed, smiling gently.
"Cosette is not a terror, Kurt. I love her dearly, but she is not Finn." She could practically hear Kurt's eyes rolling at her comment. "It is not her fault she sheds, and I warned you about leaving scarves around our apartment while she was in the chewing stage."
"It was fifty dollar scarf, Rachel, and it was the last one in the store. I will never find a replacement."
"I wish you were here or I was there."
"No you don't. Blaine is writing a memo, and despite what I previously thought, it turns out that this memo is already ten pages long and still growing. He's in a permanent mood." Kurt sighed on the other end of the phone. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to sleep; I have an article due in the morning and a photo shoot to arrange."
"Kurt, please…"
"Rachel, I love you, but if you don't let me get some sleep I swear you will be the subject of my next article. And all of New York and the world will know how Rachel Berry, of the Off-Broadway smash hit Chicago, used to be the worst dresser in all of Ohio until I got my hands on her wardrobe; I will include the cat suit fiasco." Rachel stuttered a protest. "And besides, you are going to have to learn to handle the nights alone eventually. This won't be his last night patrol."
"I know, but I just wasn't as ready for this as I thought. I mean, I've spent nights alone before, like for the six months he was at the academy and only came home for the weekends. But this is different. It's actually dangerous, what he's doing."
"Calm down, Rachel. Don't start that now." Kurt's voice was almost soothing. "You need to relax, take a deep breath, and go to sleep. Finn will be home when you wake up, and everything will be fine."
Five minutes later, Rachel was sitting up in bed, Cosette in her lap, still unable to sleep; she'd been warned that it would be an adjustment, but she wasn't sure any warning prepared her for the first night alone. Rebecca, who was married to Finn's training officer Mike, had been pregnant when Mike graduated from the Academy, and she'd been a week past her due date when Mike went out on his first night patrol; after hearing that story, Rachel was sure that if Rebecca could handle it so could she. Perhaps she was wrong. Finally resigning herself to the inability to sleep, she slid from the bed, gently scooped up Cosette, and headed out of the bedroom. Once back on the floor, the puppy darted around her feet, following her from room to room as she picked up odds and ends around the apartment, anything to keep her fidgeting hands busy.
She paused by the three foot tall basking cage Finn had built, situated in the corner of their living room, her eyes falling on the rather large sleeping lizard. He looked like a small dinosaur, which was precisely what Finn had found so fascinating about him. Cosette gave a soft bark, and Chad opened his eyes momentarily; he was Finn's iguana, not hers, and when he, Blaine, and Noah brought the 'rescued' creature into the apartment in a rather large box it had taken her some time to welcome him as a part of her small family, especially when she learned how difficult it might be to tame him. Now, however, they talked to him as if he could speak back.
"He won't be home for hours." She murmured, offering him a strawberry through the cage. "I miss him. Do you miss him?"
Chad simply took the offered fruit, blinked a few times, and gave her a look that clearly meant he thought she was being 'crazy human woman' again. The clock on the wall in the kitchen read 1:30 AM by the time she'd picked up all the scattered puppy toys, the shredded newspaper Cosette had attacked while Finn was cleaning Chad's cage earlier in the day, and the popcorn that had been thrown that afternoon while they watched some horror movie before she left for her rehearsal. Her cell phone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. But as she returned to the bedroom, her eyes narrowed. Who had "Don't Cha" as their ringtone? Picking up the phone her eyes widened, the name Santana Lopez flashing across the screen above a familiar picture of the girl who'd become one of her better female friends during their senior year.
"San, why are you calling me at 1:30 in the morning? Is something wrong?"
"I was going to leave a message. The question is why is the Hobbit still awake that early in the morning, and where is Frankenman?"
"Santana!"
"Hobbit is a term of endearment, Rach." Santana's laughter filled her ears, and she smiled.
"I'm too tired to argue, San, and Finn's on his first night patrol, so I can't sleep. What has you up so late?"
"Britt and I are leaving Chicago, and my father is pissed." There was a pause, and Rachel moved back to the living room. "I've decided that I don't want to go to med school, which was why he was paying for our apartment and shit. Britt wants to dance, like for real, and maybe even teach dance, and I don't know what I want to do but it's not med school. "
"Well, what's that going to mean for you, San. Where are you going to go?" Rachel tossed herself on the couch, stifling a yawn.
"Britt mentioned it actually, coming to New York. There's plenty of chances for her to dance, and you know I'd follow her wherever she wants to go."
"That's true." She heard Santana sigh. "Hey, San, don't worry. You get to New York, and things will turn around."
"I'm not scared, Rach." Rachel rolled her eyes at the lie. "It's just my dad will probably never speak to me again, he kind of blames shit on Britt for no reason, and I don't want Britt to think that anything's her fault."
"Your dad will come around eventually, San. And Brittany will be fine." She desperately wanted to hug the other woman, even if Santana would probably swear and call her crazy in Spanish. "Just get here because I need some female companionship of the non-musical theater variety. It's not that I don't love my cast mates, but sometimes all they care about is who screwed who over for a part."
"Awww, my Hobbit misses me?" Santana laughed, and Rachel laughed along with her. "Don't tell anyone, but I miss you too."
"I won't. Let me know when you are headed up this way." There was a pause. "And no, not so you can get me drunk and convince me to get something pierced or tattooed."
The conversation ended ten minutes later with the promise of karaoke night when Santana arrived in New York, and Rachel wasn't sure it would end well. Ever since the unlikely, and occasionally unholy (as Kurt liked to put it) friendship of Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez had formed, trouble tended to follow them. She was definitely excited about having Santana in New York. Kurt was her best friend, but somehow Santana was like her wild side personified. Both Finn and Kurt admitted that their friendship was slightly frightening at times.
"Come on, Cosette, we're going to bed now, and hopefully when we wake up Finn will be home." She patted her thigh, and Cosette followed her to the bedroom, curling up near Finn's pillow while Rachel snuggled closer to the pillow and breathed in the smell of her boyfriend's shampoo.
Three hours later, Finn checked his phone, a crooked smile flickering across his lips as Mike pulled the patrol car in front of the apartment building. Rachel had sent at least six text messages saying she loved him and telling him to be safe, and Mike gave him a playful shove as he glanced over at the phone. He and Mike had discussed the situation before, and it was always with a hint of worry in Finn's voice. He hated the idea of leaving Rachel alone all night in their Manhattan apartment, especially since they had spent almost every night together since they moved to New York almost five years ago.
"So little lady is a worrier?" Finn nodded. "Becca used to go crazy, and she's a nervous baker or something because I would come home at three AM to find eight dozen cookies and three pies."
"Yeah, Rach does that too. I wouldn't be surprised if there are plates of cookies in the shape of cars with black and white icing to make them accurate." Mike gave him a slap on the back.
"Don't worry kid, eventually it gets better. She'll get used to it, and you won't have too many night patrols if you're lucky." Finn honestly hoped so; he missed dinner with Rachel and curling up in bed with her in his arms. "Give it time, Hudson. She's a rookie too."
"Thanks Mike." Finn stepped out of the car, and he waved as he watched the car drive away; for a first night patrol it wasn't so scary.
He silently unlocked the door to their apartment, hoping that he wouldn't wake her, and he crept into the bedroom; a small smile played across his face as his eyes found Rachel, curled up with her arms around his pillow. She looked too peaceful to disturb, and so he tried to undress as silently as possible. But as he crawled into bed, Rachel shifted, opening her eyes with a sleepy smile, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead. She sat up slightly, and he realized that she had worn one of his t-shirts to bed; there was something undeniably sexy about Rachel in his shirts, but they were both too tired to think about sex.
"Hi, baby." Rachel's sleepy voice broke the silence.
"Hey Rach." He gently kissed her lips. "Go back to sleep, babe. It's almost five in the morning."
"I couldn't sleep, Finny. I missed you." She wrapped her arms around him, sighing softly. "Was it a good night?"
"Mike and I didn't see much trouble, just a couple of kids spray painting a store wall. Nothing exciting, Rach." He carefully untangled himself from her arms, falling back on the pillows. "I'm glad to be home though."
"Is it always going to be like this?" Rachel's question hung in the air as she curled up next to him, her head resting on his chest. "The night seems longer when you aren't home. And I worry about you."
"Mike says it gets easier, and he and Rebecca have been doing this a long time. We're rookies, baby; you and I will just have to learn as we go." He gently stroked her hair. "But we'll get better at it."
"I love you." Rachel's words were barely audible, and sleep began to overtake her.
"I love you too, Rach." He let the gentle movement of Rachel's fingertips stroking across his bare chest and soft sound of her slow breathing lull him to sleep.