Author's Note: First in a series/universe which spun out of a LiveJournal icon (of all things). It's a crack!fic premise, to a degree, but I'm making the attempt at trying to incorporate a hefty dose of realism. Let me know how it goes, eh? The "Vegas 'Verse", as this timeline is being called, will eventually be made up of stories & ficlets written by both myself and Ali, my partner in crime. I may or may not be posting her contributions to this compilation - that will depend on her preferences. Spoilers for the series, as of now, include canon material up through "Showmance" (1x02) and promos aired pre-9/15/09.

Even after almost three years of close-quarters contact with Rachel Berry, Finn's still never sure how she was going to react to something. She's got priorities, see, and for the most part they're pretty straight forward. Finn's even proud to count himself amongst them. But she's also got a dramatic streak a mile wide, the ingrained habits of an exiled control freak, and a tendency to misread interpersonal cues with panache. It made for an interesting mix, even under the best of circumstances.

This, well, this was not one of those days...

^__^__^

When it came to alcohol, Rachel had stopped being surprised at Puck's ability to acquire it anywhere somewhere around Junior Year. He had some kind of a sixth sense when it came to liquor, and, after some consideration, she had taken Finn's advice and never pressed the issue. So she hadn't even blinked when jello shots in three flavors miraculously appeared in Puck's room an hour before they were supposed to leave for their obligatory "if you want me to OK this trip, then you need to do something education while you're out there, so take in a show. I'll expect a review on my desk the following Monday" evening of entertainment. At the time, and even after the fact, it seemed like a rather small price to pay for four days in Vegas in lieu of a Senior Trip or, you know, spring break. It wasn't Mr. Shue's fault that the only National competition he could get approval for them to attend had coincided with Spring Break, it just meant that all of the seniors in the club had felt the need to make up for the missed vacation in new and creative ways, hence the extended layover in Vegas on the way back to Lima.

The jello shots were a combination of celebratory toast and tactical defense against their evening of mandated "cultural experience", and everyone had tried at least one - even Kurt, who tended to avoid alcohol if he could help it.

Rachel had tossed back two, and she was reasonably certain Finn had gone through a few more before they all made their way to the main entrance of the hotel and out onto the Strip. If asked, Rachel would say that Las Vegas was not in the top ten locations she wanted to see before she died. However, when they made it to a national competition in San Diego and LowFaresDotCom decided to route them through Vegas, well, Mercedes had been right that it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. As they wandered down the Strip, the alcohol slowly burning through their veins and blurring out the finer details, Rachel admitted that Vegas had its own form of beauty, even if it just came off as gaudy in the daylight hours.

The show had been interesting, from a technical point of view, and not horrible from an entertainment quality standpoint. They'd agreed that they weren't blowing more than $40 a ticket, which had limited their options somewhat, but they'd still managed to squeak into a show with traditional "Vegas" showgirls, big feathers and tiny costumes and all. Rachel was just buzzed enough to disregard the obnoxious music choices, which helped a lot, as did the fact that Finn wasn't shifting uncomfortably in his seat the way he did when he went to movies with Megan Fox in them. When it was over, they'd decided to break off from the rest of the group (most of whom had devolved into an intense discussion over whether your odds were better at poker, craps, or slots and if they should just do strip poker back at the hotel, which Artie seemed to be lobbying heavily for), wanting to take in the lights in lieu of a moonlit stroll.

It was West Side Story levels of romantic, and Rachel just soaked it in. The warmth of his body, the security that came from having his arm wrapped around her too-small shoulders, the sound of his voice as they wandered around looking for somewhere reasonably cheap to grab dinner - it struck her, as they turned into a doorway that boasted an all-you-can-eat-buffet, that things would be changing soon. Good intentions or not, graduation was coming. Everything she'd ever heard about high school romances revolved around the fact that they didn't survive the transition to college (unless you were Mr. Shue, and that was something she didn't want to look at too hard, because wow were there some "what not to do" lessons kicking around in that life story). It made her want to cling to the moment that much more, knowing it was coming to an end.

Finn seemed to feel the same way, and when they walked past one of the 24 hour chapels on the way back to their hotel, his joking comment turned into an awesome idea in a heartbeat.

Looking back, Rachel would try to pin the whole thing on Puck, but the truth was that they weren't that drunk. Four and a half hours after the shots, she was buzzed but rational, and suspected that Finn was in roughly the same condition (although she knew for a fact that he'd put away a few more than the three shots she'd tried). Just relaxed enough to think that a monumentally stupid, if incredibly sweet, act was a phenomenal idea.

They made it back to the hotel riding high on adrenaline and life, barely making it to the room she shared with Tina before clothing was removed and the deadbolt thrown. It was, for lack of a better term, magical.

^__^__^

The following morning, things were a bit less rosy. It might have been better if they'd been so hungover they couldn't think straight, because that would mean they could blame their actions on Puck's handiwork, but the only headache that morning came from the ringing telephone that jarred them both out of a sound sleep. Clumsy with too-little sleep, Rachel stumbled out of bed first and managed to grab the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Oh, good, you're not dead."

"Mercedes? It's, um-" Rachel glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and winced as she realized it wasn't actually all that early. Fuck, that meant someone had probably noticed when Finn hadn't made it back to his room, and ten AM or not it was way too early to be dealing with this. "No, I'm not dead."

"Good, because you owe me one. Do you have any idea what it's like dealing with Tina when she's drunk? Because that was not in my job description for this weekend. I learned more about lesbian sex last night than I ever had any desire to know, you get my drift?"

"Um, yeah." Rachel swallowed hard, and glanced over at Finn who was watching her anxiously. She made a shooing motion, pointing at the door to the bathroom. He obliging disappeared, and a moment later she heard the shower turn on. "I'm really sorry about locking Tina out of the room, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Oh, I know what you were thinking, girl, and don't think I'm about to forget it. You want to put Finn on so I can get this out of the way?"

Rachel blushed, raising a hand to her cheek even though she knew Mercedes couldn't see her. "He's, um, not here. Look, I've got to shower. Give me half an hour, and you can yell at me all you want for locking Tina out."

"Fine, fine. Blow me off, see if I care. Your ass better be downstairs for breakfast in half an hour, though, or I'm getting Puck to kick in your door, and I don't care if you're both naked."

"Half an hour, got it." Rachel hung up, cutting off whatever grumbling Mercedes might have started on next. Running a hand through her hair as she attempted to settle her thoughts, Rachel looked around the room and wondered just what she and Finn had been thinking, because it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why they'd locked Tina out. Her eyes falling on a folder sticking out of her purse, she let out a groan. Right, bad ideas had been the order of the evening, and that piece of paper was most definitely the crowning achievement of the night. Not that it had all been bad, but it was becoming apparent that Senioritis had kicked in now that they'd survived Nationals.

Deciding to take just a few more minutes before dealing with that particular piece of reality, Rachel pulled off the T-Shirt she'd slept in and walked into the bathroom to join Finn in the shower.

^__^__^

Breakfast at their established default of the Market Street Cafe was exactly as awkward as Rachel had feared. Finn, big bad football star that he was, had bailed on her the minute she mentioned Mercedes' less-than-impressed attitude. Oh, he'd kissed her and promised that they'd work out the whole 'marriage thing' that afternoon (meaning figure out how to get a divorce as cheaply and quickly as possible), but he'd also left her alone by the elevators to contemplate her fate. The reasons for their combined stance on the marriage itself were simple, didn't even need voicing, really, although she'd done a fair job of it for the sake of posterity while they'd been pulling on clothes after their shower.

"We're eighteen, Finn! No one gets married at eighteen unless there's a baby involved, even in Lima! Think about what our parents would say! Our friends!! We'd never live this down. And that's ignoring the fact that we can't even hold a relationship together for six months - forever? Please. I love you, but everyone knows we're a ticking clock. I mean, do you want to end up like Mr. Shue?"

It was a rhetorical question, but it had made the point well enough. While they might disagree on the details, they both knew that they were better off leaving it behind when they went home at the end of the week. Mercedes was less sympathetic, and spent an hour explaining just what she'd had to endure when Quinn and Tina decided to make out (or possibly more, that was one area Mercedes was a bit shy on the details for obvious reasons) on the other bed in her room because "Quinn's always wondered what it's like, and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?"

Rachel was more than happy to listen, in part because it gave the coffee time to work its way into her system. She was less happy when Mercedes started prodding her for details on what she and Finn had done after breaking from the main group. Rachel's answers ranged from vague to incomprehensible, and were accompanied by a perpetual blush. It was one thing for your friends to know that you're dating and hypothetically having sex. It was another thing for them to be sleeping in the next room and know you're doing it.

Finally, Rachel was given an out when Tina and Quinn came staggering into the restaurant looking far worse for their wild night than Rachel felt. She left, claiming that she needed something in her room and she'd meet them by the pool later. The original plans had called for spending Friday on the town and Saturday kicking back before they flew home on Sunday, and it appeared that things were right on schedule. Feeling better now that she was caffeinated, Rachel changed into her swim suit and a grabbed a book before heading to the rooftop pool to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather - even for Vegas, 85 in late March was unusual.

It was sitting by the pool, paging through a book on performing arts schools that she'd brought along to compare programs at the places she'd gotten into (or at least applied to, since April 1 was notification day - when she'd called to give them the news about Nationals, her dads had told her there were a few envelopes waiting for her, but she'd been trying her hardest not to think about it since they wouldn't tell her which schools they were from or how thick they were), that she realized her original reaction to their impulsive decision might have been a bit hasty. She spent the next few hours considering her options, because everything was improved with a little planning. When Finn finally showed up on the pool deck, she dragged him into the hallway next to the bathrooms to inform him of her new decision.

"So, I've been thinking about it, and I don't think we should get a divorce."

"Um, ah, ahem. Okay?" Finn blinked at her, obviously confused at her change of heart, then glanced around to make sure no one they knew was in the hallway. She did the same, then returned her attention to the topic at hand.

"Look, if/when we eventually break up, we can get divorced. It's not like we're going to have to worry about division of property or anything. But being married means we're legally financially independent from our parents, so they don't have to pay for our college tuition according to the federal government, which means schools will give us more money. It doesn't mean we have to tell anyone..."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Of course. Would I screw around with my future?"

"Good point." He frowned, practical concern rapidly replacing shock. "Wait, does this mean I need to get you a ring?"

"We're not telling anyone about it, right?" He shook his head in agreement. "Then no, you don't need to get me a ring. Finn, you bag groceries at the Pick'n'Save on the weekends. Be realistic."

"Right. So, we just forget about it?"

She nodded, glad that he understood so quickly. Most of the time, Finn was awesome like that, but occasionally he hit a brick wall and they were speaking different languages. It was very frustrating. "Exactly. Check a few different boxes on our forms, but that's it. Saves the money we'd have to spend for a divorce, I can take my dads off my FAFSA, it's a win/win situation."

"You do realize that Ohio State's already offered me a full ride, right? I mean, I have these memories involving a really fantastic night at your place, but I know you have a little trouble keeping those kinds of things clear..."

She scoffed, only barely refraining from rolling her eyes. "Yes, I remember that night, and the reason behind it. OK, fine, so it would help me for next year, and we have to be practical - there's no guarantee you won't blow your knee out and lose your scholarship before you've completed your degree."

"Does this mean we'll still have sex as long as we stay married?"

"Well, maybe. I'm not doing the open relationship thing, though, so put that thought right out of your head. Either we're together, or we're not. That's unrelated to the married thing. No reason to throw something like that away unless we actually want to marry someone else, right?"

"Um, sure." He shifted, reminding her that she was pressed up against him in a bikini and that he wasn't exactly known for his... control. He shifted again, and she felt her smile grow a little deeper.

"So, if that's settled, I think I need to run downstairs for some sunscreen..." She trailed a finger down the side of his cheek, allowing it to rest upon his parted lips. "Care to join me?"

^__^__^

The remaining time in Vegas flew by, and despite her concerns, no one seemed to realize that anything other than a "night of unrestrained passion" (Kurt's words, not Rachel's; contrary to popular belief, Rachel did not have any desire to quote Harlequin novels at the drop of a hat, she was just a tad melodramatic at times) had occurred. There was teasing, some good natured and some a bit more biting, but nothing that couldn't be handled with a smile and a blush; Quinn and Tina served as a much more interesting distraction for those of them who hung around the pool that afternoon.

As she prepared to leave, joking with Tina about futures and the production they'd seen on Friday night, she paused to open the folder from the little 24 hour chapel before packing it away. It was an innocuous thing, white with gold curlicues around the edges. The papers inside were simple, one copy of their marriage certificate, one invoice explaining the charges they'd paid - her spending money at work, but it was turning out to have been for a good cause - and two copies of a picture of the two of them, beaming out at the camera in front of a stylized painting of a dove against a dark blue background. She traced their likenesses, surprised at how happy they looked - she remembered the evening, knew she'd been grinning like an idiot, but it hadn't really seemed real at the time. More like a lucid dream brought on by their near-win at Nationals than an actual event.

Changing her mind, she slipped the folder into her purse instead of her rolling carry-on. It didn't mean anything, not really, but just the same she didn't quite want to put it away just yet. She and Finn would have the summer, she was certain of that. Fall, well, she didn't even know where she'd be going in fall. Regardless of where they ended up, though, she had a feeling that he'd like his copy of the picture, so she would keep it safe until they got home. After that, it was anyone's guess.

~ Finis ~