DISCLAIMER: Glee is the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

A/N: So, it's been exactly two months since I wrote a Finchel fanfiction. This is my holiday/New Year's present to you all. It will only be 2-3 parts, but at least it's something. I hope you like it!

The Winter Masquerade

Part One

The chill of winter was in the air as her breath fogged in the cold, and Rachel Berry wrapped her coat around her even tighter as she balanced her bags and made her way towards her dance class, trying to get there as early as possible. In her experience, it was always better to arrive before the other students so she could have ample time to stretch and rehearse. Heaven knows she needed it; dance had never been her strong point, but as a member of the freshman class of New York's most prestigious theatre school, NYADA, she was used to the demands of her future profession.

But still, the extra practice never hurt.

In fact, plies and rond de jambes were the only thing on her mind as she entered the elegant building and strolled down its massive corridors. Just last year she was nothing but a small town girl from Ohio, and now she was living out her dreams in the big city and enjoying every thrilling experience she'd never dared to imagine. Every day was a new journey, another struggle, and she thrived in the competitive atmosphere, truly believing that she had found her place in the world.

It was everything she had ever wanted and so much more.

Lost in her thoughts, Rachel continued down the corridor towards her dance studio, not paying attention to where she was going before unceremoniously slamming into another student in the hall. The force of the impact caused both her and the innocent bystander to stumble, and they fell on the ground in a sea of tangled limbs.

"Oof!" She cried, hitting the ground with a thud while her bag slipped out of her arms. Looking over at the person she had slammed into, he was mumbling to himself about dirt on his clothes, wiping away at the fabric and frowning deeply.

"I am so sorry," she said, trying to pick herself up and reaching out a hand to help the guy off of the floor. He was much taller than her, with a thin, lithe body and clothes that looked like they had come off of a runway show in Milan. "I was in such a hurry that I didn't even see where I was going."

The boy shrugged his shoulders and offered her a kind smile. "It's okay, actually. I was too involved in admiring the architecture here that I didn't even see you coming. We're even." He stuck out a hand for her to shake and she took it without even thinking. Most of the people here would have screamed at her for what had just transpired, but this kid seemed pretty down to earth, which automatically made him a rare breed at NYADA. "I'm Kurt Hummel. Do you go here?"

"Yes, I do. I'm Rachel Berry, a first semester freshman." She cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Don't you go here?"

"Well, no, I mean yes," he babbled a bit and blushed. His voice had a very feminine quality to it, light and airy, and Rachel had a sneaking suspicion that he was gay, like most of the male students at NYADA. "I just got accepted here for the Spring semester and I'm still a bit in awe of the place. I've been living in New York since I graduated high school, hoping I could get a second chance to get into the program." He looked away from her, almost like he was ashamed. "I applied during my senior year and didn't get in. For some reason, Madame Tibideaux gave me another chance at an audition and accepted me."

"Hey, that's great," she emphasized, trying to raise his spirits a bit. She knew better than anyone how competitive the school could be, and was happy to finally meet someone who didn't let their ego get in the way of making polite conversation. To be blunt, some of the students here were very rude and cliquey, and Rachel never seemed to fit in with them no matter how hard she tried. She knew she was here to get an education but still, it didn't hurt to make a friend or two. "I hope to see you around more. This place is seriously competitive, but once you get used to it then it's truly marvelous. You're going to love it here."

The halls were starting to fill up with more students, and Rachel knew that if she didn't get to the studio soon she would never have enough time to stretch and prepare for the torture that was Dance 101. "I hope so. And I would love to get together and chat, since you've been through all this already and know what to expect." He looked over at the large poster decorating the wall across from them and nodded towards it. "Are you going to the Winter Masquerade? It's mandatory for all the incoming students."

"Yeah, it's mandatory for us too. Madame Tibideaux hand-picked certain students to sing during the event and I was one of them." Kurt looked at her with a strange mix of respect, awe, and a tinge of envy.

"Are you serious? You must have some set of pipes." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well if I didn't, then I wouldn't be here!" They shared a laugh together and Rachel finally felt like she was making a friend here. Someone who wouldn't pick her apart and compete with her on every single level. Someone she could have an actual conversation with. "But the Winter Masquerade should be fun. Apparently it's this old tradition that the school has every year. Our families are invited too, and everyone stays in character throughout the night as an exercise in acting and performing."

"So it's really like some kind of old-school costume ball?"

"Exactly! But there's singing and ballroom dancing and all other kinds of fun. I can't wait for you to see it."

"Then I'll see you there," he picked up her hand and gave her a mock bow. "My Lady."

"Oh, good sir!" She fluttered, enjoying their little game and bending her legs in a curtsey. "If only the Winter Masquerade were tomorrow." They giggled together like long-lost companions and Rachel felt an instant connection to Kurt. She had a feeling that she would be seeing more of him in the near future. "I gotta go, though. My dance teacher will skin me alive if I'm not warmed up and stretched before class starts."

He shook his head with a wistful smile. "Is it weird that I'm looking forward to that kind of stuff?"

"Totally, but that just means you're in the right place." They shared another smile and Rachel knew she had to go. "I'll see you at the Masquerade, Kurt!"

"Bye, Rachel! See you soon!" And with that Rachel headed towards the dance studio with her head held high, her thoughts centering around the Winter Masquerade and the new friend she was sure to meet there.

She had a feeling it was going to be an interesting night.

"You're joking." Finn Hudson sat on his living room couch with a frown, balancing a beer in one hand and the remote in another. He was frowning at his step-brother, Kurt, who was holding up a black tuxedo and a matching mask that looked like a box of glitter had exploded over a dead crow. "You're wearing that?"

"No, you're wearing that," Kurt emphasized, thrusting the hanged garments towards Finn. He dropped the remote, landing on the floor, and the bang echoed throughout the spacious loft that they shared in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Finn might have been a few years older than Kurt, but his younger half-brother always seemed to be the one in charge. "My tux is more fashionable, and my mask is much more flamboyant."

Setting his beer down, Finn picked up the black silk mask and stared at it distastefully, eyeing the trio of black feathers that created a small plume by his right temple. There was a slight sheen of glitter that made it stand out, but it was nothing compared to the multi-colored sequin explosion that was Kurt's mask, as he held it up for his step-brother to see. At least his was a simple black. "Explain to me why I have to go to this thing again?"

"Because, Finn," Kurt sighed, holding his tux up in front of him and admiring his reflection in the floor length mirror by the bathroom. "This night is a celebration for NYADA students and their families, and since Dad's been so busy in Washington this year I didn't want to pull him away from work. He's already coming up for the orientation next month." He placed the mask on his face and Finn had to stifle a laugh. In his opinion his step-brother looked ridiculous, but then again, he hadn't tried on his own mask yet. "You're the only family I have in the city and I want you to be there with me. I won't know anyone else."

Finn frowned, still staring at the piece of silk in his hands. "What about that girl you were talking about? The one you met the other day?" Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically while Finn got up to hang the suit in his closet.

"She's going to be performing, Finn. The girl probably won't even have the chance to say hello to me," Kurt sighed dreamily as Finn re-entered the living room. "Her voice must be truly amazing. You should have seen her, Finn! She looked so posh and stylish and professional. A real NYADA student, hand-picked to sing by Madame Tibideaux herself. I can't wait to get to know her better so she can give me tips about the program. I need all the help I can get."

Finn plopped himself back onto the couch, watching his brother model himself in front of the mirror. "You already know you're gonna kick ass, little bro. Meeting one student isn't going to get you that far." Kurt turned around with an icy look in his eyes.

"Finn, this is New York. It's all about the connections you make and the people you know. Who knows, this girl might change my entire life!" Finn shook his head, watching Kurt twirl around the living room with his suit pressed against him. He was happy for his brother, he truly was, but he never expected to be pulled in to Kurt's little world of theatre and Broadway. He fixed cars, for crying out loud! He knew nothing about that kind of life.

"So what else do I have to know about this party tonight? Besides the fact that I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb."

"You always stand out, Finn," he said dryly. "You tower over everyone else. But yeah, there are some things you need to know." Kurt peeked over at him from over his shoulder, an angelic look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that made him uneasy. "How well can you act?"

"I can't act," he replied bluntly, hesitation snaking down his spine. What exactly had Kurt pulled him into?

"How about a British accent?"

"What?!"

It took hours of persuasion, but Kurt was finally able to talk Finn into attending the Winter Masquerade in full attire, walking into NYADA's gorgeous, sweeping ballroom wearing his black mask to hide his growing ire. He was already prepared to keep his mouth shut the entire night; his acting skills were slim to none and the only accent he could get away with was an Australian one, which sounded horrible compared to Kurt's practiced British twang.

But a promise was a promise, and Finn was going to support his brother no matter what. Getting into NYADA had been Kurt's dream for months and to see him achieve his goals sent a burst of brotherly pride through him. If he had to endure a night of silly antics just to celebrate that, then he was going to do the best he could.

He just really hoped no one tried to talk to him.

At least he felt better about his costume. The people that surrounded him in the giant, ornate ballroom were dressed in outfits that Finn would never dare try to wear. Some of the masks were enormous, with rhinestones and jewels and feathers of all shapes and sizes, worn by men and women alike. In fact, the simple shimmer on his mask looked tame in comparison to some of the accessories being displayed at the event. He saw men in suits lined with frills and lace, sporting wigs and chattering on in accents like they had been born with them. To be honest, he didn't know what was weirder, the outfits of the men or the huge, billowing ball gowns being worn by the women. Their masks were just as ornate, but it was the dresses that caught people's eyes; masterful recreations of garments worn long ago that seemed larger than the girls themselves.

It was bound to be one hell of an evening.

At least there was alcohol flowing freely for those with the proper ID's, and Finn ordered himself a scotch (beer wasn't being served) while he took in the sights around him. Only in New York would he be able to walk into a old-school masquerade ball and still have it feel like a normal Friday night.

"Finn," Kurt called to him, pushing through the people in the crowd and meeting him at the bar. He ordered a ginger ale and took a deep sip, seemingly out of breath. "Isn't this marvelous! Everyone looks wonderful!" He was already speaking in the mandatory British accent and Finn rolled his eyes.

"Everyone looks like they stepped out of some historical novel," he grumbled into the strong, bitter drink. It burned his throat on the way down and he coughed harshly.

"Finn," Kurt protested. "You're not speaking with an accent!"

"Sorry."

"Well, brother dear, if you want to be surly for the entire night then go ahead," the pretentious tone he'd adopted was really starting to rub Finn the wrong way. He was apparently very dedicated to his character and planned to speak to him like that all night long. "But I guarantee that you're going to miss out on a wonderful experience." Before Finn had the chance to say anything else, Kurt flounced off in his multi-colored mask, weaving through the crowd and losing himself in a sea of his fellow peers.

Finn sighed to himself and took another drink, fixing the mask on his head and hoping it didn't slide off. At least there was a sense of anonymity here. In fact, if he wanted to, he could be a completely different person tonight. Sure, I might be a mechanic who can't dance or act worth a damn, but tonight I could be whoever I wanted. Someone who actually fits in at events like this. Someone different. The thought was intriguing to him, and he contemplated it more and more as the events of the Masquerade began.

An older woman stood in the center of the makeshift stage at the far end of the ballroom, her hair wrapped up in a turban with a large purple mask over her face. She cleared her throat once in the din of the ballroom and it immediately fell silent, capturing everyone's attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Family and Friends, welcome to NYADA's annual Winter Masquerade," she said, her voice adopting a British lilt. "My name is Madame Tibideaux. Please enjoy the refreshments available and don't be afraid to mingle with the other incoming students. You're all part of our family now too." Finn clapped politely with the other guests while he snuck a few hors d'oeuvres off of a silver serving tray. "We have a real treat for you tonight, as I've asked a few of our top vocalists to perform for you all this evening. Enjoy." More polite claps followed, but once Madame Tibideaux left the stage the lights dimmed, and everyone's focus was centered on the lone figure on stage.

Finn felt his mouth go dry when the girl stepped into the spotlight. She was wearing a ball gown in a shade of pink so light, it almost looked white. A matching silk mask was covering most of her face, with small rhinestones glittering in the corners, and white feathers framing the fabric. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high twist, with long tendrils hanging down her back in soft curls. Her strapless ball gown hugged her slim frame perfectly, before fanning out into a massive skirt at the waist.

It was her voice, however, that almost knocked him off of his feet.

The girl sang "O Holy Night" for the awestruck crowd, and Finn stood by the bar in shock as he downed the rest of his drink and stared at the singer on stage. For a moment he wondered if it was the same girl that Kurt had met the day before, but brushed it off as an impossibility. Kurt was standing by the stage, fixing the mask of a pretty Asian student who was getting ready to perform. That must be the girl he'd met the day before. No, the girl on stage right now had talent bursting out of every pore. A star in the making. She was probably the kind of girl who would never give a guy like Finn Hudson the time of day.

But tonight he wasn't Finn Hudson. Tonight he was just a man behind a mask.

And he had an idea.

Rachel was breathless and buzzing with adrenaline when she got off the stage, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in a single gulp. Her hands were shaking after the rush of her performance, and the echo of applause filled her head and made her feel like she was floating on air. Running her hands over her poufy pink skirt, she smoothed out the material before making sure her mask was secure and in place. It was a masquerade after all, and the anonymity made the night infinitely more exciting.

If only she had someone to share it with. Her fathers had been unable to come out to New York to attend the ball, and she hadn't yet seen her new friend Kurt in attendance. She didn't even know what to look for, since the costumes were all so different. It would be weird if she went around to everyone in the ballroom, asking them if their name was 'Kurt' or trying to recognize them through the masks.

No, it would be better to wait around and see if they ran into one another. Right now she was still trying to shake away the thrill of adrenaline from her performance, and took a look around the ballroom to admire the elaborate costumes. Everyone looked so elegant, so posh. It was like traveling back in time, to an age where gentlemen and ladies were elegant and regal. All she was missing was a gentleman of her own.

"Excuse me, Miss," a voice called from behind her, a low voice in an accent that was decidedly not British. In fact it kind of sounded Australian.

"Yes?" She asked, turning around and stifling a gasp at what she saw. It was a man, taller than anyone else she knew, dressed to perfection in a form-fitting black tuxedo. The shimmering black silk mask hid his identity, but the brown eyes that stared down at her were so dark, so fathomless, that she instantly lost herself in his hypnotic gaze. Sure, she couldn't see his face, but she could tell from his warm eyes and fabulous bone structure that he was definitely handsome.

"I just wanted to compliment you on your singing," he said smoothly, grabbing her gloved hand in his and pressing his lips on the back of it. Sensations assaulted her, sending tingles up her arms while she thrilled at this stranger's touch. She was certain that she had never seen him before; no one she knew was as tall as he was, and she wondered if maybe he was an incoming student.

Oh God, please let him be an incoming student.

"Why thank you, sir," she said sweetly, trying to stay in character like Madame Tibideaux had ordered. "How kind of you." Staring up at his towering frame, Rachel knew deep down that a guy like him would never give a girl like her the time of day under normal circumstances.

But right now, she wasn't just another girl. Rachel was one of the stars of the Masquerade ball, and the secrecy of the evening let her feeling strangely liberated. For once she wanted to be a little bolder, a little more daring. She wanted to be the kind of girl that a man like him would find charming. Elegant. Intriguing.

"Are you enjoying tonight's festivities?" She asked him, hoping to keep his attention for more than a moment. She wasn't used to talking with such a handsome man, even though she couldn't really see his face.

"Well, to be honest, the only thing I've enjoyed so far was the singing," he was definitely speaking with an Australian accent, but his cadence and tone was perfect. She felt her knees liquefying into jelly as his eyes remained focused on only her. "You're amazing, did you know that?"

"Well, that's why I'm here," she said shyly. "I'm going to be on Broadway one day."

He grinned at her, sending her heart racing through her chest as he leaned in closer to her. They were standing off to the side, and most of the other guests were too busy either dancing or enjoying the entertainment to even notice them. Rachel's thoughts were traveling at light speed. Who was this man? And why was his presence affecting her so? Did he even go to NYADA? Would she ever see him again after tonight? "You sound very sure of yourself."

"I am sure of myself," they shared a smile and Rachel decided to pay coy and flirt with the masked stranger. The anonymity of the Masquerade fueled her confidence and she didn't hesitate to lean in closer to him, inhaling his uniquely masculine scent. "I don't mean to offend you, sir, but your accent is not exactly. . ."

"British?" He finished for her with a grin. "It turns out I can't do one. It always comes out Australian."

"Well at least you can admit your faults," she joked, feeling bolder the more they spoke together. For a moment it felt like she and her masked companion were the only ones in the room. "To be honest, your accent sounds much sexier." She almost slapped her hands over her mouth from mortification. What had possessed her to say that to him? A complete stranger, no less? But when his warm chuckle filled the air, she hoped that she hadn't ruined things with her big mouth.

"Will you come walk with me?" He asked, holding out a hand for her to take.

"S-sure," she stuttered, tripping over her words in her haste to agree. When her hand slipped into his her heart took notice, pounding against her ribcage with enough force to break it. The anticipation was killing her as he led her out of the ballroom and into the massive, vacant hallways of the school. Sure, he was a stranger and she should have been cautious, but something deep down was telling her that she was safe. That she could trust this man.

She could only hope that she was right.

Finn's mind was racing at light speed as he held her small hand in his meaty fist. Could she tell that his palms were sweating uncontrollably? Could she tell that he had no idea what he was doing at all? If she did, she made no mention of it since she had followed him out of the large and crowded party. In the lights of the hallway he could see the intricacies of her features more, and she looked even more beautiful than she did under the spotlights. Her skin was olive colored and flawlessly smooth, with full, kissable lips he couldn't tear his eyes from. While her mask disguised most of her face, he could still see her most prominent feature, her nose, which was larger but only added to her exotic beauty. Soft, chestnut colored eyes stared up at him, so wide and beautiful he wanted to drown in them. Add that to her stunning voice and he was amazed a girl like her even existed. It almost seemed too good to be true.

If this were the real world he would never stand a chance with her. But tonight they were just two strangers at a costume party, and he wasn't going to let an opportunity like this pass him by. It didn't even matter that he still didn't know her name; in fact, he thought it added to the excitement.

They walked side by side for a little while, down the long corridors until she led him to a small alcove, with a view of a neighborhood park. She looked up at him, smiling sweetly while he resisted the urge to kiss her full, pouting lips. He wanted to know if they were, in fact, as soft as they looked.

"Are you enjoying yourself this evening, sir?" She asked, in her perfect British accent. She spoke as if she'd been using it her whole life. For all he knew about her, she probably was British.

"I am," he smiled. "As different as this is for me, I truly am enjoying myself." He probably sounded ridiculous with his poorly done accent, but this girl didn't seem to mind. In fact, she thought it was sexy.

But when a frown pulled down her lips, he wondered if it was already loosing its charm. "What is it?"

"You mean, you're not an actor?" She pouted, the disappointment seeping into her tone almost instantly. "I thought that maybe you were one of our incoming students."

He shook his head, and for the first time in his life, he wished he was part of Kurt's world of theatre. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry." He shrugged his shoulders with a soft smile. "In fact, this is my first attempt at acting, ever. Am I doing a good job?"

"Yes," she replied wistfully. "You certainly had me fooled." There was a sadness in her tone that pained him, and he wanted so badly to turn her frown back into a smile. "I thought that maybe I would have the chance to see you again. I don't make it a habit to run off with every stranger I meet, you know?"

"I understand," he said, lifting up her hand and kissing the back of it again. She smelled sweet, like peppermint candy. He wanted to know if she tasted the same. "So let's not waste this opportunity to get to know each other better. We might not have another chance." Dropping her hand, he lifted his to cradle her face instead, and he watched her eyes go wide before he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to his to find out the answers to all his questions.

Yes, she tasted as good as she smelled.

Yes, her lips were as soft as they looked.

And no, he never wanted to let this girl go.

It was ridiculous, foolish, and crazy, but the moment his lips touched hers something within Finn shifted and changed into something new and scary and exciting. Electricity flowed between them, pulling them closer together, a magnetism that could not be denied. In the haze of emotion he heard her moaning, felt her gripping the lapels of his suit, but it was all lost to him in the pleasure of this one girl's kiss.

A groan slipped from his lips, bleeding into hers, a groan of desire that rippled through his entire body. He had just met this girl, he didn't even know her name, but she had evoked a passion in him that begged to be released. She fit perfectly in his arms as he held her close, needing to feel the softness of her skin, wanting to feel more of her everywhere. It was just one kiss, but to Finn it felt like so much more as his hands caressed her curves, memorizing her shape, so if they ever did meet again after this night, he would be sure to remember her.

The girl in his arms writhed and moaned against him, her soft sighs being swallowed up by his incessant kisses. They broke apart for air for an instant and he took a moment to look up into the masked eyes of the stranger who had tempted him so. They were burning with a slow fire, staring into his and conveying all the emotions she felt. There was wonder, there was amazement. . .

And there was plenty of desire.

But as soon as he identified the emotions swirling in her chocolate gaze, they were gone, replaced by a panic that he hadn't been expecting. She looked as if she'd snapped out of a trance, like she'd had no control of her actions since leaving the ballroom.

"I'm sorry," she panted, completely out of breath. Finn was hypnotized by the way her chest moved in the tight bodice of the dress as she took in lungfuls of air.

"Sorry about what?" he asked, not wanting to let her go. In fact, he wanted to touch more of her, everywhere.

What on earth had gotten into him?

She shook her head, pulling away from him. He felt her loss as acutely as a punch to the gut. "I-I shouldn't be here. I can't do this." She took off like a bullet, running away from him as fast as her dress and heels would allow. The panic he had seen in her eyes was real, and he let her run because he couldn't deny that he'd been scared too. Never before had a girl affected him in such a way, and so quickly as well. It was like an instant attraction, a connection.

Maybe love at first sight?

He tried to ignore the inner voice in his head, the one that sounded childish and ridiculous, but he couldn't chase away the feeling that he was supposed to meet that girl. Kiss her. Get to know her. Actually see her face.

He couldn't just let her get away.

"Wait!" He called out after her, watching as she still tried to escape him down the long, empty halls. She had a lead on him but he was closing it quickly, thanks to his long legs and the fact that he wasn't wearing three-inch heels. "Please, just talk to me! I don't even know your name!"

She didn't stop running, and she didn't turn around. In fact, when he turned the corner to get back to the ballroom, he lost sight of her altogether as she hid in the crowd of people and their elaborate costumes. He tried to use his height to his advantage, scanning the crowd for any sign of light pink, but his actions were moot.

She was gone.

And he would probably never see her again.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She yelled at herself, staring at her reflection in the girl's bathroom as her ruined mascara left long black tear-tracks down her cheeks. She wiped them away, smudging it all as she sniffled miserably at her reflection. What was wrong with her? Why had she run away from the most thrilling experience of her young adult life?

Because you were scared, her inner voice scolded. No one has ever wanted you like that before.

She had to agree with her inner voice as it taunted her mercilessly. Sure, Rachel wasn't a virgin, but never before in her life had one person inspired so much passion inside of her. It was overwhelming and scary, but exhilarating at the same time. The only thing that kept her from exploring those feelings was the fact that the man who inspired them all was nothing more than a stranger to her. Someone she had met at a costume party, no less. Rachel knew nothing about him; she didn't even know his name.

So why did she have to physically rip herself away from him to escape?

You're saving yourself from heartbreak, she reassured herself. A guy like that would never want to date a girl like you, so think of it as a pre-emptive strike.

The words should have consoled her, but she had a feeling that tonight had been so much more than a simple kiss with a stranger. There was a connection between them that she had felt instantly, even before they had kissed, and her lips were still tingling from the feel of him, pressed so intimately against her.

God, what a fool she'd been! If only she had stayed and found out his name. Sure, he wasn't a student at NYADA, but they could have met again as acquaintances, maybe over coffee. She bit her lip in embarrassment when she thought about leaving him in that hallway alone and instantly missed him; his laugh, his accent, his smile. The look in his eyes before he kissed her.

She was a fool, she decided.

A fool who fell in love with a stranger at first sight.

TO BE CONTINUED