A/N: This is to cheer up holygoof101, with thanks to Paceismyhero for the help with Santana's insults and iGoToExtremes for the plot/backstory/beta assistance. You guys are all awesome. And don't ask me how because I couldn't tell you, but title and inspiration came from Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.

Thanks to any who read, but especially to all who review/reblog and otherwise let me know what the love, what they like, and what I can improve.

Disclaimer: I don't own and am not affiliated with Glee, Fox, Ryan Murphy… or Yogi Bear.

Honey Put On That Party Dress

He was half asleep on her bed when he felt her exit the closet more than he saw her. Well, obviously, since you can't see through closed eyes. Whatever—details are sometimes not important.

And it wasn't her coming out of the closet that was important and God, that was a bad phrase to use in a house with two dads and a girl who had gone on and on last week about how sexuality was a social construct. Maybe you couldn't understand through closed eyelids either, 'cause he still wasn't sure what she'd meant by that and he just knew he wasn't actually going to ask because then he'd have to hear about it again and it would cause more confusion.

So right. Tiny girlfriend breathing through her nose with big, huffy sound—he opened his eye (just the one. He wanted to see what he was getting into before he committed.)

"What's wrong, babe?" He asked rubbing at the corner of his eye and dropping his head back. He was looking at her kind of upside down, his head hanging off the bottom of her bed and looking toward her closet. She was wearing a light green bra and matching minty underwear (could underwear be flavored? He should totally look into that…) and her hands were on her hips. If it were possible, he thought maybe she was even hotter upside down than right side up. Again, sometimes the things he thought just sounded wrong but he wasn't necessarily complaining, he would just keep the pretty picture and change the head subject.

"Have you seen my dress?"

The way she said it without really smiling told him she was serious. Was that really all the detail he was getting? He turned on the bed, guided by the smooth, shiny material of her comforter, and dropped his feet on the ground. He looked at her head-on and tried to make another important decision—hotter upside down or right side up? – yeah, he was going to go ahead and call that one a draw.

He was still rubbing at the corner of his eye with the heel of his palm because evil eyelashes had apparently folded in to set up camp or something and it hurt.

"I might need more information," he finally managed. Maybe he'd been more than half asleep. He yawned. He was sure if she took any longer to figure out what she was wearing to the party, he could be more than half asleep again. It wouldn't have been the worst feeling ever.

"The green one; it's the same color as my underwear because you know I have a slight compulsion with color coordination. Anyway, that should help because I'm sure you've already appreciated the color of my underwear."

"More than once," he said, losing the battle and cracking a smile.

She did not lose that battle. "I only have one dress that color."

He looked away, his eyes landing on the vast cavern of closet. "I don't remember it. Have I met this dress?"

Rachel sighed. "Yeah. I wore it to that party we had here."

"Oh," he started. He was nodding, 'cause whatever—why would he remember a dress she wore almost two years ago and …

Oh.

SHIT.

Where was his phone? He needed to text Kurt… like now… 'cause someone might've been dying shortly and he wanted to know if he could have the room with the bathroom attached. It was totally gonna be Kurt who died. Finn realized he probably should've seen it coming but… bored on her bed… girlfriend in her underwear. Plus, the conversation with Kurt about the dress felt like it was a hundred years or like a hundred hours—give or take—ago.

"….with ruffles and it's long. I'm certain I wore it because I wear it to every party and it's like some asinine sports ritual now and I can't go to this party tonight without it…"

She was pacing. Kurt was dead. And he'd probably at least be laid up for a while. (He was on a roll with the kinda dirty, bad words tonight. His girlfriend was pacing in nothing but her underwear—it was allowed, especially if she didn't know about it.)

"I dunno, babe, but we really have to go," he said slowly. The saying bros before hos flashed through his head—he'd spent too many years with Puck for it not to—and he tried to figure out a way that didn't sound so bad to rotate it around in his head. He was on Rachel's side for this—he shouldn't have ever let Kurt talk him into being involved.

"But Finn…that's the dress I always wear to parties." She pressed a hand to her forehead and he hopped off the bed and stepped over to her. It was gonna be hard to stand there and just hold her hands when she was mostly not dressed but… damn it. 0-for-26 on the bad way to word things in his own head.

"I've only seen you wear it to one party, and that was your own. Is that the only party you've been to?" He asked. He started going through parties in his head; they all blended together because honestly, those types of things were all the same. But he honestly couldn't remember one she'd been at since her own…when they dated before they were always doing something. They didn't kill time at random get-togethers. It was like that again. And in the in-between, well, he hadn't exactly been looking for her or paying attention to whether she was there or not. Usually if he thought there was a chance in hell she'd be somewhere, he avoided it. He frowned and she nodded.

"Yes, and that party was largely a success so I guess I considered the dress lucky in some way. Probably a bit silly…and maybe just part of my notoriously superstitious Jewish heritage coming thr—"

He cut her off by putting his finger on her lips. "It's not stupid. But we do need to get there and make sure Quinn and Kurt don't hurt each other after that thing last week." Rachel sighed. He was totally right and she knew it. He took the lack of words from her as his opening and he continued. "I know you have something totally hot to wear, though."

"I do?" She asked, tilting her head sideways. "And I'm not just going in my underwear."

"I only suggested that one time and you know I wasn't serious," he deadpanned. "No, seriously. You should wear that red ruffle-y one."

She ducked her head and smiled. She had worn a dress for Valentine's Day that he later told her was see-through (but he swore he didn't necessarily mind). She knew that was the dress he was talking about. He liked the way the fabric felt when he touched it, he liked to watch it move around her legs…and he liked the fact she couldn't necessarily wear a bra with it. He'd been pretty thorough when he told her what he liked. Thorough enough that she shivered now just thinking about it. There was no way she was wearing that to a party where more than the two of them were in attendance.

"Okay, just give a minute to find something else," she said. She let her hand linger on his arm as he dropped dramatically back onto her bed, completing it with a flop back and a groan. "It won't take too long. I think I know what I want to wear already."

He lifted just his head up. "The red thing?"

"No, most definitely not the red thing," she answered with amusement as she headed back into her closet. She was true to her word and ready to go within just a few minutes, wearing tall dark orange heels, a dress, and a floaty, short-sleeved sweater to cover the spaghetti straps of her sundress. He knew Kurt had helped her with her clothes; that's why they all matched and didn't have animals on them. He was still disappointed with the coverage, though, even if he wouldn't tell her that exactly.

(She did at least kind of throw him a bone – 0-for-27—by wearing a short little dress that was mostly white, with a few wide stripes in different shades of orange; she had changed into an orange bra and he could see it through her dress. She said it was okay for him to 'objectify' her like that if he kept it just between them.)

The fact that she'd received numerous compliments on her dress didn't stave off her curiosity about the other one she'd been intending to wear. She had asked several people from the other party; Tina remembered the dress but had no idea what could've happened to it. Quinn looked at Rachel like she was something on the bottom of Quinn's shoe, until Finn gently guided Rachel away and asked Quinn—again—to just be nice and yes, that even meant with the way she looked at people. Puck remembered the other party and kind of the dress, but mostly helping her super-drunken self upstairs and said something about the pajamas she'd put on that made Finn mutter under his breath and finish most of a beer in two gulps. (It had been completely innocent, but she should've realized that was what he was most likely to remember.)

"So I've been thinking about this," she started. They had made the social rounds and were now sitting on a couch, fairly casual; her shoes and sweater were on the floor where her feet would've been if she weren't curled up beside him. He had his arm draped around the back of the couch where she sat. He had his drink in the hand stretched out around her bare shoulder, but it had been a long time since he drank anything and he'd switched to water after just a short time anyway.

"'Bout what?" Finn said. He was distracted by Brittany and Mike dancing—and not dancing like Mike had a girlfriend. Tina was nowhere to be found anymore, but Artie was watching them while he and Puck and a few other guys played poker; he didn't look particularly happy. The bad thing about being the guy they all looked to for answers and support and whatever? It meant he also had to troubleshoot more often than he actually wanted to. He was just waiting 'til the last possible second 'cause he didn't really want to be that guy. Plus, Rachel was here and she was warm and he could see her bra through her dress and he had some plans for how he would see it in a little while and…just whatever. He was happy with where he was sitting.

"Well… the last party I went to," she said slowly. She turned toward him and ran her hand up his stomach, over his chest, and placed it on his shoulder. "You told me I was clingy."

She felt his chest heave with his sigh. He looked over at her and she knew that had been all she needed to get his attention off the drama unfolding at the poker table.

"Yeah and…and I think I apologized for that more than once," he said. "I mean…like…there's only so many times I can say I'm sorry."

"Well, you weren't wrong," she admitted—for the first time. His eyebrows went up and she tickled her finger tips over the back of his neck. In order to reach, she had gone up on her knees and almost the full length of her was pressed against his torso. He dropped his arm around her to hold her closer.

"Wha-huh?" His eyes fell closed.

"Well, I had some ridiculous notion in my head that I could seduce you that night."

"Seduce me…for what?"

She gave a small laugh and kissed his cheek. "You silly boy; all I wanted was your attention. That's really all I've ever wanted, even if I used sometimes inappropriate means to get it."

He pulled back a little and let his eyes roam over her face, his own face covered in a scowl. He licked his lips as his eyes dipped down and…yeah…with the way she was sitting, he could see right down the front of her dress. He tried to figure out a way to get the cup of water he had resting against her and in his other hand up to his suddenly dry lips so he could drink and maybe unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"Well…"

"I just remember thinking that was my lucky dress…" she said. She tilted her head and then leaned forward to press her mouth to his neck. He lifted his chin up a little to give her some room to work with. She finished her statement, letting her warm breath dance over his skin, and he shivered. "…so if I could've gotten your attention, maybe it would've been your lucky dress, too."

"My..m-m-my…whaddya mean?" He asked, stammering and eyes closed.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter since my lucky dress is lost now..." she said. "I just wish I would've had the chance to see if it was as lucky for you as it was for me. It had potential."

"Kurt said it was good enough to light on fire," he said simply.

She sat back on her heels and looked at him seriously. He took advantage of it to take a drink of water, but really, it wasn't the turn of events he had hoped for and he frowned. "What?"

"Did Kurt do something with my dress?" She asked. She put her hand on his chest to give her enough leverage so she could get up and slip her feet into her shoes. Really, really, really not the turn of events he was after.

"N…no…?" he stammered out. He wondered if Kurt would get a text before Rachel got to him.

She raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. "Finn, tell me seriously. We never lie to each other."

"I..." he sighed. She was right. He rubbed his free hand over his face. It smelled like her laundry soap because he'd been playing with her dress. He wanted to keep playing with the dress she was wearing now. "I don't know what he did with it, but the last time I saw it, he had it."

Because I handed it to him.

She tilted her head. "When were the two of you unattended in my room at the same time? I can't think of a single time you've both been at my house since that party."

He sighed. Was it better to be open and honest? To be mostly honest? Like, he wasn't cool with the sliding scale of truth-telling anymore. But at the same time, it wasn't like this was something that mattered overall, right?

"Well…" he hedged a little. He stood up and bit his lip. He almost never used his size to kind of tower over her. In fact, he really hated doing it. But he thought he might need to be in the position to make a quick getaway. "Actually, we weren't."

She held up a hand. "What are you saying?" Her voice was a little louder and it was starting to draw some attention. Never mind the fact that they were standing in the living room and he was close enough to her, pressed by other people and leaning to hear what she'd been saying in the loud room, that it look like he was totally pulling rank on her somehow.

"Hold up, what's going on?" Santana said, intervening before Finn could even get a word out of his open mouth.

Rachel shot Santana a dirty look but then looked at Finn and tilted her head. "That's what I'm wondering. I'm beginning to think Finn took something of mine that didn't belong to him."

Santana snorted. "Pretty sure he couldn't take that without permission, Hobbit."

"No, not that," Rachel dismissed with a quick glance in Santana's direction. "I'm speaking of a certain green dress. It's gone missing and he's being evasive."

"Are you sure that isn't just his general cluelessness shining through yet again?" Santana asked. "And I so don't need details on him stealing your clothes but if it's the green dress of yours I'm thinking of, maybe he did you a favor."

Rachel's eyes darted back to Santana's face from Finn's. Finn, for his part, was still trying to figure out if he could "HELP ME" text Kurt with no one noticing.

"I didn't do anything," Finn protested. "I don't know where it ended up or anything."

Santana nodded and folded her arms. "Uh-huh, Stay-Puft. When was the last time you saw it?"

Finn scoffed. "Why do you care?"

"Your boring fight is threatening to kill my buzz and ruin my party. Plus, this makes excellent practice for when I'm a criminal defense attorney trying to outsmart the good cop, even if the good cop is a village idiot such as yourself. So out with it."

"Now hold on a second," Rachel started in, but Finn rolled his eyes. Thing was, with both the girls in front of him (and not that they had much in common, but they had a couple things), it was easier to just answer their questions and move on. Arguing usually wasn't worth it.

"Look, Kurt told me to do her closet a favor and take the dress 'cause he tried but she wouldn't let him. I didn't know it was, like, your lucky dress or that you always wore it to parties or whatever, okay? I thought a dress is just a dress and it wouldn't be a big deal to help him out." He was looking at Rachel when he finished up. "I still kind of think that. What's the big deal about one dress when you have a hundred of them?"

"I would not have expected you to steal my personal property, Finn," Rachel said, falling back a step and frowning heavily.

"Okay, okay, Berry. Just calm your tits, okay?" Santana started. Rachel looked disgusted and Finn actually had his mouth open to protest the comment when Santana kept going. "First off, if Hummel was this involved I guess he'd better be here for my ruling since I've self-appointed myself your judge and jury." She snapped her fingers and then latched onto the sleeve of a random person. "Find out who Kurt Hummel is, find him and bring him back here. Yesterday." She gave the confused-looking kid a push and then turned back to Rachel and Finn. "Seems to me unless Finn is the rent-a-cop we all know he'll become, he probably got something out of this."

Finn sighed, his eyes still on Rachel when he spoke, still feeling the fire of Santana's general impatience. "Yeah, I mean… he said he'd talk you into wearing that red dress again. "

He could practically hear Santana's eye roll and Rachel's eyes softened a little bit. "You like the red one that much?"

Finn couldn't very well, like, throw her on the couch and show her how much he liked it 'cause there were other people around and it wasn't his couch and she wasn't wearing it anyway. Although… he could probably show her how much he appreciated certain things about the one she was wearing. He settled on swallowing hard and nodding a little so his voice didn't, like, squeak or something.

Kurt appeared, wide-eyed and looking curious, with the random kid (probably a sophomore) right behind him. "My presence was requested?" He asked, his eyes shifting between the now three people involved.

"Yeah, Hansel and Gretel need you to settle something for them," Santana said. She sighed and looked at the sophomore. "You can leave now. Other than playing fetch, I don't see how you're involved." She turned back to the three. Finn and Kurt were staring at each other, like Kurt was trying to telepathically divine what was going on. "Basically, Yentl is missing the world's ugliest green dress and has deduced that you and the Jolly Green Giant here were in cahoots to make it disappear. I was bored before they got to the reasoning behind it."

"Oh, that," Kurt said. He gave a small laugh. "Rachel, sweetheart, I just did you a fashion favor and Finn helped because he cares about you."

Rachel scowled. Kurt continued.

"To be fair, he didn't really want to. It took a lot of persuasion and actually cost me some money," he said. He put his hand on his hip and his eyes scanned her body quickly, a well-practiced flick of fashion scrutiny. "But I believe the price was well worth it as you look simply fabulous this evening."

Rachel looked over at Finn. "Some money? He paid you to rob my closet?"

Santana snorted in amusement. "I'm sorry, but that's absolutely ridiculous."

Finn rolled his eyes. "No, he didn't give me money. He bought me a hi-hat pedestal."

"You sold your soul for drumming equipment?" Rachel asked. Her hand was on her hip, Finn's hands were out in front of him.

"I didn't sell my soul, I just helped him get his hands on a dress that no one really liked."

"No one besides myself," Rachel argued back.

Kurt and Santana exchanged a look and both snapped their heads away when they realized the looks were identical and they agreed on something. It was just wrong.

"Okay you two; stop," Santana ordered sharply. "The jury has come to a decision in the matter of Boo Boo versus Yogi." She cleared her throat and tossed a glance at Kurt. "Versus Cindy Bear." She held up her hands. "Basically, Midget is pissed Stretch took her dress and gave it to Lady Fingers, right? So she gets to pick something from his closet," she pointed to Kurt, then moved her finger to Finn, "for him to destroy." She clapped her hands. "So let it be written, so let it be done. I'm outs."

She blew them all a kiss (Rachel wasn't sure one could do that sarcastically, but was willing to bet she'd just witnessed it) and sauntered away quickly, leaving them standing in a triangle of odds in the middle of the living room.

Kurt looked at Rachel, and when he spoke, his voice was cool. "There's nothing that requires us to do her bidding."

"I happen to think it's a fantastic idea. There's got to be some sort of justice done here. You have no limits," Rachel argued.

Finn sighed loudly enough to draw their attention. "Seriously… let's just be done with this. Please?"

"If you don't want to help me the way you were willing to help him, then I guess I'll find some other way to complete the task," Rachel said quickly. Her voice filled with meaning for the next part. "It will be on a short list of things I can do myself… things you won't be allowed to do."

Finn shrugged at Kurt and sputtered a little bit. "Look, I..I…I'm sorry, but… I have to go with her on this one."

Kurt just nodded. "Very well," he said. He turned to Rachel. "The red dress makes you look like a hooker, especially when you don't wear a bra with it. If I were you or I were with you, I wouldn't want to be seen in public with you wearing it, which says a lot, don't you think?" He gave Finn a dirty look from the corner of his eye before he marched away shaking his head.

And that's the true story of why Kurt gave up bowties and Finn stopped wearing puffy vests and flannel as a combination. No one really ever found out what exactly happened to the green dress, no one besides Finn ever saw the red dress again, and no one knew what negotiations had been made to allow it, but Kurt received final fashion approval on all Rachel's party outfits.

(That is, right up until he lost the battle with her stylist before her first awards show.)