A/N: This is intended as AU after the whole club performs the song "Sing". No hallway scene between the two happened. Although, it was sweet. I was hoping for sexy. ;)

She can't remember the last time she's stood this close to him. Wait, yes she does. The last time was when she poised the question of the validity of his feelings when they kissed. She pushes her hands into her jeans pocket, clenching her fists and closing her eyes. The show must go on. After all, she's Rachel Berry. Her eyes close and she relaxes as the music starts up and ends up flowing through her.

Just one move and he could be totally touching her butt. He snaps his eyes open and gives his hat-covered head a little shake. He mentally chides himself for thinking about his ex-girlfriend's butt. He sways to the music as her voice surrounds him. He smiles. Thoughts of her butt filter out of his mind as he allows her voice to fill him.

She's sitting on the edge of the stage, between Santana and Brittany. She sees him out of the corner of her eye, his own eyes half-closed as she hears him belt out his part even though he's seated at the very end of their human row.

She's so screwed.

He's watching her out of the corner of his eye, proud of the fact that she's so caught up in the moment of the song. He can tell she's gotten to the part where she's so immersed in the music by the way her lips twitched and her arms moved twice as rapidly.

He's so screwed.

She's taking of her boots, despite how sexy Mercedes said they were, they were actually just plain cruel on her feet. She struggles with the tightened laces and bites her lip in concentration. She's completely focused on her ridiculous boots that she doesn't hear his light footsteps approach her.

She swivels her head quickly as he makes his presence known with his voice.

"You did good, Rach."

Four simple words. She wanted to punch him in the groin and kiss him senseless in the same breath. She settled for a subtle smile.

"Everyone blended so well together, surprisingly, even Coach Slyvester. Guess a miracle does happen every once in awhile."

She heaves a large sigh as she continues her struggle with her boots, she was really going to have to lecture Mercedes tomorrow.

He remains silent as he sits down next to her, grabbing her leg to place on his knee as he starts the job of untangling the knots of her shoelace.

Before he can realize it, she's forcefully removing her leg away from him and hitting him squarely in the chest. He looks at her confused.

"What do you think you're doing, Finn? I can get my own damn boot off myself."

He tries not to grin. He slowly nods and puts up his hands in defense. Watching her struggle, he starts humming softly and swinging his legs back and forth in attempt to ignore the fact that she just swore. And the fact that it went straight to his tightening jeans.

She hates him. Who does he think he is thinking he can come in here and save her. She doesn't need saving. It's just a damn boot, after all.

She groans loudly and flails her leg, the back of her boot hitting the side of the stage. She throws her head back and mutters under her breath.

"Fine."

He doesn't waste any time. Sliding next to her, hips barely touching, he gently pulls her leg to his lap. He deftly unties the laces and eases her foot carefully, but firmly out of the boot.

His fingers sweep a path down her calf and ending at her ankle. He wonders how in the hell a pair of boots could turn him on. Her skin is hot to the touch and his fingers feel scorched.

He wonders if she can his heart breaking out of his chest.

She wonders if he's noticed the distinct change in her pattern of breathing.

She's trying not to quiver from his movements and an overwhelming shudder is enough to pull her out of the haze that he had managed to cast over with one damn finger. She slides her body away from him, resting her now sock-covered foot on her burning leg. That damn finger.

If it takes her until midnight, she's determined to get her remaining boot off. She unlaces and stretches the boot, hoping the added stretch will grant her foot to slip out.

Even with yanking the boot with all her might, she was still failing miserably at getting rid of her stubborn boot. She threw her head back in aggravation and let her foot drop to the floor with a clang.

He couldn't not grin again.

She glared back at him.

This time, he just reached out his hand, amusement etching his face.

She, however, was not amused. She could get her own damn boot off herself.

She couldn't get the damn boot of herself.

He's not ready for her swinging leg to collide his stomach/chest. He nearly falls off the stage by the force.

Within seconds, he has her boot off. She stares in amazement and the silence falters as she erupts into laughter. She can barely breathe, let alone speak as her giggles overwhelm her.

Now, he's confused. He's just proven his sexy, strong and stealthy ways, her body halfway draped over his and she's laughing.

He surprises even himself when he shuts her up with his mouth.

She's surprised at his response to her laughter, feels his warm mouth on hers and not only is her laughter gone, so is her breath.

Just when she regains her thought process and moves to invite him in, he pulls away.

She blinks and he's looking at her with these sad, and really, pathetic eyes. Her voice is but a whisper.

"If you walk away..."

For the second time, he silences her. This time, by his words.

"I can't walk away. I have your boots."

This time, she is the one to silence him.

He knows this time will be different. He'll finally get it right this time.

She knows her love for him is something that people question, probably even mock her for. She also knows she will be doing the mocking 60 years down the road.

He briefly wonders if anybody will know what took place on this stage and if Rachel has any cleaning supplies in her locker by any chance.

She wonders if anyone's seen or heard the events taking place. She surprises herself by thinking who gives a flying fuck.

However, she doesn't think her thought to herself. His lips twitch into a smile at her mention of a "dirty word" and moved in her again.

He wonders if he'll ever get his red plaid shirt clean ever again. If not, he's still keeping that shirt.

She thinks she will have to thank Mercedes for convincing her to get the "get down and dirty in the barn" boots. Her inappropriate words caused her to blush profusely in the store. She should really get Mercedes a thank you card. And a basket of tater tots.

Those boots weren't going anywhere.

Author's Note: Now, *I* want a pair of boots. Hopefully, it wasn't too over the top. After all that intense singing during "Sing!", a sexy scene should've appeared. Reviews are my gold stars. ;)