A/N: Even though it'll never measure up to the other fantastic stories out there, I've decided to start a multi-chaptered NYC future!Finchel. I've had the idea for this first installment for a while, which essentially turned into an intro chapter for the world I envision for them. Additional chapters will jump around in time a bit.

Much thanks to the fabulous Skyedrgn, who came up with the idea for Finn's occupation. It's so fitting I can't believe no one else has written it yet! Also thanks to the numerous individuals who I bounced ideas off of in preparation for this fic.

Finally, story is rated T for now, but it'll eventually change to M. Obviously. ;-)

Enjoy!

"What day is it?
And in what month,
This clock never seemed so alive.
I can't keep up
And I can't back down
I've been losing so much time…"

Finn sat in the nearly-empty subway car, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in an attempt to wind down after a busy day. He'd staffed a fancy business luncheon event that the restaurant had catered and then worked the dinner shift. It was only his sixth week there but he was already assistant manager of catering and served as sous chef several nights per week. The whole arrangement was exhausting, especially considering how competitive the culinary field could get at times.

He had no idea how Rachel did it. Her industry was just as busy and volatile as his and yet she took everything in stride, going on audition after audition, even if she already had work. In between acting and singing gigs she worked as a vocal coach for kids, which involved shlepping all over the city.

And at home, she was totally on top of things, making to-do lists and calendaring all of their professional obligations and social plans. One of the greatest embarrassments of Finn's life was that he had a college degree in management (okay, "culinary arts and food service management") and his actress/music-teacher girlfriend kept track of their finances. She insisted that it was just easier – since starting college she'd been tracking her own with an insanely detailed spreadsheet that made Finn's head spin whenever he tried to look at it.

Lately she also seemed to be doing a lot of chores that Finn had actually taken charge of when he joined her in New York roughly a year and a half ago. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't have time for those tasks, but he just felt overwhelmed by the new schedule. When he was first starting out, interning or doing random work here and there, it had been easier to fit in the grocery shopping or whatever random errands needed to get done, and he was eager to get them done as quickly as possible. Now, though, he put off every little task, chore, and errand whenever he could.

Rachel's determination and work ethic were always admirable, especially to Finn, but hard to relate to. She had been driven and ambitious since birth, it seemed, and she literally couldn't comprehend that other people weren't the same way. A few times he tried explaining how he was still finding himself professionally and that after a particularly stressful day or some harsh criticism it was hard not to doubt that he could actually do this. She went on some diatribe about how criticism is merely an involuntarily-provided motivational tool.

Finn smiled at the memory of her rant as he exited the train and climbed the steps from the station to trudge along the snow-lined Brooklyn sidewalk towards their apartment. She was really the best thing about his life, which was a scary thought. Finn loved his career choice and was excited for the future and the possibilities ahead of him. But Rachel was in the process of living out the dream she'd had since she was a toddler, and Finn couldn't help but feel secondary to it sometimes. He knew that Rachel loved him (and it was getting to be time for discussion of the M-word, he was well aware) and she encouraged his career wholeheartedly. But he felt like they were just on this career-pursuit treadmill and weren't really experiencing life to its fullest. He wasn't unhappy, necessarily, but something was missing that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He entered their small brownstone building and climbed the narrow stairs to the third floor. Unlocking the door marked 3B, he was surprised when he entered their apartment and saw an uncorked bottle of merlot on the counter next to a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes. Rachel wasn't due home for another hour, after some evening repertory theater workshop or something. She always left him little notes and a goody or two. But he hoped that the wine hadn't been uncorked for 5 hours - that was just gross. (Whilst a culinary student Finn became a total wino. His beer-swilling high school football teammates would so kick his ass if they knew of this development. Hell, if it was possible his 15-year-old self would probably join in.)

As he examined the wares and shed his overcoat he noticed the light from the bedroom. "Rach?"

There was some shuffling and then her small form appeared in the dining area.

"Hi!" she said brightly, stretching upward to kiss him while he unbuttoned his white chef's coat and threw it on the back of a barstool.

"What are you doing home? I didn't expect you until 11:30." He poured each of them a glass of wine, swirling one of them around before raising it to his face to sniff the aroma. Then he drank a large gulp, closing his eyes as he swallowed it.

"I skipped the theater workshop." She made a face when he gulped. "…which is proving to be a wise decision so that I can be here to monitor your descent into alcoholism," she continued sassily, earning an eye-roll from her boyfriend.

In reality she had skipped it because Finn had seemed somewhat down lately and she thought a relaxing evening together might do him some good. "Come sit on the couch," she instructed, taking the plate of snacks and her glass.

Finn was happy Rachel surprised him, her criticism of his eager wine consumption notwithstanding. He sat next to her on their large orange sofa and set his glass and the wine bottle on the coffee table so he could remove his shoes.

"Seriously, I wanted to see you and hear about what's going on at work and everything. We haven't just sat around and talked in what feels like forever." She positioned a throw pillow next to her.

Finn nodded approvingly, practically inhaling a few crackers and cheese slices at the same time. She was right. They were fortunate enough to have relatively similar schedules and therefore spent a fair bit of time around the apartment together. But often they were doing their own thing and just happened to be in the same room. They always made time for intimate encounters of the naked variety, but even Finn acknowledged that those activities weren't a substitute for emotional interaction or whatever girly stuff Rachel was always talking about.

"I dunno, Rach," he began after washing his cheese and crackers down with another sip of wine. "Work is pretty good. I really like both the catering management and the time in the kitchen. Cecil is crazy, but that's something I'll just have to deal with... and for some reason I'm able to handle him better than most people."

Rachel laughed at the mention of Finn's boss, the restaurant's executive chef. He was at least 80 years old, very accomplished and still very spunky, but seemingly the most stubborn person to walk the face of the earth - and coming from Rachel Berry, that said something.

"It's just, like, I realize that I'm SO lucky, and I want to make the most of it, you know? I feel bad that I haven't been pulling my weight around here lately. I hate the idea of putting more pressure on you."

Rachel reached up to stroke Finn's cheek lovingly. "Oh, please don't worry about that. We're a team, you and me! Remember last year when I was in the ensemble of that weird Off-Broadway reimagination of Guys and Dolls AND assistant-directing the PS 43 musical? You did all the laundry, cleaning, cooking – "

"Damn straight," Finn interrupted.

"—and all the other household tasks for three weeks. We pick each other up, and I'm happy to do my part in getting you situated in your career."

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her as a show of appreciation. Meanwhile Rachel couldn't help but feel like SHE was the lucky one to have snagged such a sweet and determined man. Even when things were bothering him, Finn always thought only of her. (A far cry from high school when he seemed to flip-flop from being head-over-heels in love with her to only caring about his popularity for not apparent reason.)

"So you're looking for some way to make life more fulfilling." She sipped some wine, then popped a few grapes in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

Finn shrugged, eating a slice of cheese by itself since the crackers were already gone.

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed suddenly. "What about engaging in a stimulating hobby? All you do for fun is tinker with your fake sports teams," she said pointedly.

"Fantasy sports, Rach." During baseball season he was involved in three different leagues, the most elaborate of which even involved trade talks and "winter meetings" during the off-season. He was also the commissioner of his college's NYC alumni fantasy football league, which was keeping him plenty busy at the moment. But the season was almost over, so he could use something to fill the time.

Rachel had immediately began rattling off a list of suggestions, almost as though she didn't hear Finn correcting her. "We could take a pottery class together! Or volunteer to read to children or senior citizens!"

He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even if those activities sounded super lame.

"Oh! I know!" she exclaimed after another moment of thoughtful grape-eating. "We can learn to speak a foreign language together! Like… Italian!"

"I already know Italian... sort of..." Finn began.

"You've said yourself that you speak 'chef Italian.' Knowing the names of every type of pasta ever conceived hardly makes for linguistic proficiency."

Finn contemplated her statement, tilting his head to the side slightly. "It would give me a leg up on possible job opportunities in Europe. If you were okay with me doing that, of course."

"Exactly! And I could try expanding into opera!" She was almost bouncing off the couch at this point. "It's settled then. I'll explore our options. There are probably books in the library but in order to make headway more quickly we should start with a CD program. I'll see if there are any cheap ones for sale online..."

She continued on at her usual mile-per-minute rate and Finn was more than happy to listen. Rachel was always showing him that there was nothing they couldn't handle, so long as they were together. He felt so lucky that they had weathered the angsty storms of their youth and gotten to this place in life. Other people and things had floated into and out of his life in the eight years (eight years!) since he'd met her, and she just kept proving why she was his rock. For whatever reason, in that moment it hit him like a ton of bricks that he would always do everything he could to make sure she was just as happy as he was.

"… 'cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you."

So that didn't turn out exactly as I'd planned initially, but it seems like a good way to start off this little series of random one-shots. PLEASE review and lemme know what you think! I should have the next chapter up in the next few days.

Oh and the song lyrics are from "You and Me" by Lifehouse. Not very original but I felt like sticking a musical reference into the story.