Title: Backstory, Part 1 of 6
Author: Depudor
Email: depudor@hotmail.com
Category: Finn/Other
Rating: R
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Steven Antin and Columbia/Tristar Television. No infringement intended.
Summary: This is a Finn/Kate fic that is a quasi-sequel to 'The Best Christmas Ever' and begins one month after the events in that story. The main storyline is interspersed with flashback/backstory scenes that start with the episode Kiss & Tell and then go backwards in time from there. So the flashbacks are in reverse order, with the earliest flashback coming last. Make sense? Hopefully it will.
Notes: The song "Breakin' Me" by Johnny Lang is somewhat key to this story, but it's from the show, so if you've got tapes you don't need to download anything off of Napster (although you should, because it's a great song). Just check out the first Kate/Finn scene in Kiss & Tell, the kissing scene that's interrupted by Ryder. The other song is "Suzanne" by Leonard Cohen -- the music is not important to the story, but it's a brilliant and beautiful song. And when I checked the lyrics on the Web, the site said "Related Artists: Nick Drake." So there you go. A YA connection and I didn't even know it.
Thanks: To Debi for her laborious hours spent helping me fine-tune this, to Sue and wonka for their input, and with a special dedication and much love to all you teachers out there!
Feedback: Always appreciated. Thank you! ________________________________________________________________________________
It was a bleary January morning as Finn looked out at the snowy quad through the window of the teacher's lounge, or "the Lab" as they called it. He walked over to the coffee maker and refilled his mug, not because he needed the caffeine but because he craved something warm. The coffee had obviously been sitting on the burner for over an hour; it was dark and syrupy and smelled cooked. He walked back to the small table but didn't sit -- couldn't sit. He'd been pacing back and forth for ten minutes while he waited for her. He opened a blue binder and casually flipped through his notes so that he could look busy when she showed up.
Finally, Kate appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled. "Sorry I'm late," she said. "Hamilton wouldn't get out of bed. I don't know why he's been so tired lately."
"Don't apologize. I just got here. Coffee?"
Kate made a face. "Yuck. Not that putrid stuff. I had some at home." She sat down at the table and pulled a file folder out of her bag. She gave Finn a quick smile. "Should we get started?"
"Sure." He sat down and watched as she laid out a checklist of topics and questions, poised her pen over the first one, and launched right in.
"Um, I know this is different than what we planned," she began, "but I think it makes sense with both of us teaching, that we should make the class co-ed. Don't you think?"
"Of course. But I have to check with the English committee."
"No, you don't," she replied casually.
Finn looked at her, remembering that she didn't have to jump through administrative hoops like the rest of them. "Oh, right."
Kate nodded and checked off an entry on her list. "OK, I also think we should balance the authors, 50-50 male female, with minority representation proportional to-"
"That's a nice checklist," he interjected.
She stopped but kept her eyes on her piece of paper. "Thank you. I just wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything."
"Yeah, it's good to be organized. I guess last time we did this we kind of shot-from-the-hip."
She looked up quickly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I'm just saying, this is much more business-like than our last lesson plan."
Kate hesitated, a bit flustered by his implication. She looked down at the table, and her eyes rested on Finn's coffee mug, which stated in big black letters, 'Kiss me, I'm a teacher!' Kate looked up at him, and he caught the look in her eye. She turned away with an embarrassed smile that faded as she spoke.
"Finn, that's why I didn't want to do the poetry class last semester. Because I didn't want any more of our summer session lesson plans."
She looked at him pointedly, but all he saw was the way her lips pursed when she was annoyed. He remembered the last discussion of poetry class because it was the last time he'd kissed her, on a warm summer day that was so different from today and felt so long ago...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Finn gave a quick knock and walked into the art room, the faint scent of clay and oil paints filling his nostrils. Kate was by the window, the warm morning sunlight illuminating her golden hair.
She turned and greeted him with a cheerful "Hi!"
"Hi," Finn replied, striding toward her. "About the curriculum for poetry class..."
"Right, right. It looks fine. Um, pretty basic. Lacking some estrogen, perhaps."
He leaned forward onto the stool next to her and wrinkled his brow. "Does Shelley count?"
She gave him a playful half-smile as she continued to lay out pottery pieces on the counter.
As Finn watched her, he noticed the song playing on the radio, and it sent a wave of heat through him. "Mmmm..."
I don't want to be in love
But you're makin' me
Let me up I've had enough
Girl, you're breakin' me
"You remember this song?" he asked her.
"No."
"Yeah you do."
"No I don't," she said distractedly.
"You, me... in the boathouse." He cocked his head to the side, rakishly, he hoped.
"You mean, you and I in the boathouse," she corrected him, giving him a glance but turning back to her work.
Finn's seductive smile faded to a smirk for a moment, but then he leaned in closer to her, demanding her attention as he said softly, "Don't correct my grammar, and I won't tell you who the father of Cubism is." He was so close to her he could feel her breath when she turned to him, feel the air around her as she seemed to tense and relax at the same time.
"Don't do this," she begged, but she didn't turn away.
"OK." But he kept moving closer, reaching out his hand to touch her stomach.
"Don't do this," she reiterated half-heartedly, her lower lip trembling slightly. Her words tried to push him away, but her eyes were drawing him closer. And she didn't back away as his lips came down to meet hers. She kissed him back, as her hands reached up to touch his face...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Finn!" Kate demanded, snapping his attention back to the present and the reality of loneliness and January. She wasn't smiling now. Her eyes looked nervous. "Are you listening to me? If this is going to be a problem, if this is going to be uncomfortable, then --"
"I can't speak for comfort levels, but there won't be a problem. We've been working together for four years, three of them platonic. We can do this."
She looked down at her notebook, taking a deep breath. "Good. Because I think I made it clear at Christmas that --"
"You made it very clear at Christmas," Finn replied, not wanting to have the discussion again.
"Fine. Good, then." Kate opened her folder and handed him a piece of paper. "Here's a copy of the syllabus I did, with the changes I made from last year's. Look it over and let me know what you think." She stood up and quickly slid her papers back into her bag.
"That's it?" Finn said.
"I'll stop by your room later. I have to get to class."
She gathered up her things and left quickly. Finn took a moment to look over the syllabus before heading off to class.
He arrived in his classroom to find that the January cold had seeped inside. It was freezing, and it failed to warm up even after the numerous bodies packed into the room for first period. After class, Finn went over to the thermostat and poked a pencil in it, trying to jimmy the tiny bar inside.
"Hey!" a youthful voice called.
Finn jumped at the sound of unexpected company. As he turned to see Will greeting him with an eager grin, he broke off the end of the pencil, leaving it wedged in the thermostat. "Damn!"
"You know, I think you can get arrested for tampering with those things."
Finn sighed. "Mr. Krudski, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You know how you thought I should enter that short story contest?"
"Yes, and I still think you should. But you said fiction was not your forte."
"I know. So I read that book you gave me, about the creative process. And it gave me some ideas."
Finn smiled at Will. The excitement on the boy's face warmed him, and he remembered when he used to feel that way about writing. He could tell that Will was about to burst at the seams, so eager to share his ideas.
"Pull up a chair, but hurry. You've got class in five minutes, and I've gotten in enough trouble in the past for making you late."
Will was lightly bouncing on his feet, racking his brain for a plan. "I'd wait til after classes, but I've got to get to the diner." He looked up at Finn hopefully. "Maybe you could..."
"Meet you there? How's four o'clock?"
Will's grin broke out on his face again. "Perfect. We won't have the dinner crowd yet, so it won't be busy. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."
"Deal. And then I'll buy you dinner."
As much as humanly possible, Will's grin grew even bigger. "Finn, you're the best!" he cried, running back to the door. "I'll see you there!"
As Will disappeared out the door, Finn heard him call, "Hi, Mrs. Fleming!"
"Hi, Will. Slow down!" And then Kate appeared in the doorway. "He sure seems excited," she commented. "I wish my students got that excited about creativity."
"Ah, so you heard that."
"I heard most of it." She paused. "I'm often in awe of how much you care about your students, how involved you get. I used to think it was because..."
"Because I don't have a life?"
Kate smiled, shook her head, and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess that was it. But I learned that you really believe that they can do anything, that they should get every opportunity, even if you have to force it down their throats." She looked down at the papers on his desk, changing tracks. "Did you look at the syllabus yet?"
"Yeah, it's right there on top. I made notes, just my scribbles. Did you want me to type it up?"
"No, it's OK." She picked it up and shook her head. "Good thing I can read scribble." She looked at the syllabus for a moment, not really looking. Finn could tell that she wanted to say something else. He could always tell. But Kate always kept her silence.
This time, though, her tone turned serious, and she said, "There's a reason why you're the only teacher with whom I do joint lessons, and it's not because of our personal history." She looked up at him. "I really do think you're the best, Finn."
The words flowed over him like much-needed heat. They weren't passionate or loving, but they were Kate, and full of feeling. She had been so cold to him over the past few months, and he never could find her thermostat to adjust for that. He needed her affection - he craved it, and now he found himself walking toward her, unintentionally, just needing that warmth that only she could give him...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Spring was in full bloom and blowing a warm breeze that followed them as they walked out of the bright sunlight and into the darkness of the boathouse. Finn took one end of the two-man scull, and he and Hamilton lifted it up onto the shelf and secured it.
"Alright, you're free," Finn said. "Get outta here."
Hamilton shrugged. "I don't mind helping out." He looked around at the ground and the equipment, then flipped on the small radio that sat on a nearby shelf.
"Nah, you go on. Your mom's probably expecting you home for dinner."
Hamilton crossed his arms. "I'm so sick of chicken," he complained.
"It's good for you."
Hamilton looked up at the scull and refastened a loose strap on an oar, then stood back. "That was a pretty good run, wasn't it?" he asked, eyes on the scull. Eye contact was not Hamilton's specialty.
"Yeah, it was a great run. You're turning into a great rower, Ham. We'll have you in top form by the time summer session rolls around."
"Cool. Well, see ya." And without a word of thanks, Hamilton trudged out the doorway.
"You were right," a voice uttered softly from the darkness. Finn turned to see Kate emerge from behind a boat rack in the corner.
"Were you spying on us?" Finn asked.
"Sort of. I was watching you two out on the lake. I don't know much about crew, but I thought Hamilton looked pretty good."
"He's very good, Kate. Very focused. And he seems to like it, as much as I can tell."
Kate smiled. "Hamilton can be hard to read."
"Swahili is hard to read, Kate. Hamilton is impossible."
"I know, but he's so much better since you've started working with him. He may not say it, but he's really looking forward to summer session, and being on the team. And I think it'll be so good for him. I think you were right. This is exactly what he needs."
Kate stepped closer to Finn. A trickle of sunlight came through the window, stirred the dust in the air and then glinted off her golden hair. She reached out and took his hand. "I wanted to thank you. You've really helped him. I'm not even worried anymore about him starting school--"
Finn laughed softly, not buying it.
"OK, I'm still a little worried," Kate admitted. "But I'm less worried, because I know you'll watch out for him." She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, her green eyes happy yet glistening with pent-up tears.
Finn gently touched her face and ran a finger under the corner of her eye. And then he whispered softly, "He'll be OK."
Kate nodded, but it was a nod of uncertainty. She fell against Finn and hugged him, thanking him for what he was trying to do. He was surprised at first, but then he held her tightly. As they stood there silently, he heard a familiar song playing on the radio.
So here I am
Just half a man, standing alone
Feeling like I lost my only chance
At happiness when I let you go
"Do you know this song?" Finn asked her.
"No."
"It's one I listen to from time to time. It reminds me of us, of college."
The first time my heart was ever touched,
Was the day I lost your love
I can feel it in my flesh and blood
My soul can only take it so much
Kate breathed against his chest, listening.
So there it is
Why can't you give us one more try
You and I could find a way to live
If you let me in one more time
Suddenly she pushed away from him. "No," she said.
"What?"
"I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Give us another try."
"Kate, it's just a song--"
"What happened before, I mean, in March, in the woods, not before before -- anyway -- it didn't mean anything. I would never cheat on my husband."
"I know."
"I love him." She looked up at Finn, her eyes pleading to be believed.
"Of course." He reached out to touch her face again, this time running his thumb over her soft, full lips. He wasn't listening to her. He was only hearing the music, lost in the memory of when he used to kiss those lips.
And then she was moving toward him, grabbing him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down until his lips met hers. He reached around her and pulled her to him, against him, as his lips parted and his tongue met hers. It was a delicious first taste of the intimacy he was craving. He wanted more. Obviously she did, too, because she was pulling him around the corner, behind the boat rack, and out of sight.
I don't want to be in love
But you're makin' me
Let me up I've had enough
Girl, you're breakin' me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Finn, don't!" Kate cried as he approached her. Finn stopped, not even realizing what he was doing. Then they both looked at the open door, where students were passing by on their way to class.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, the warmth of the boathouse fleeing from him and the chill of that cold classroom sinking back in. "I don't know what--" He stopped as two boys walked into the classroom, talking to each other.
Kate lowered her voice. "You said this wasn't going to be a problem."
"It won't be," he whispered. "I just had... a momentary lapse. It won't happen again."
Kate nodded, unconvinced, then put the syllabus in her bag and walked out again.
End of Part 1
