A/N: This is the fourth installment of my very AU, "Bohemian Finchel" series, which I have revived because, of all the possible happy endings for Finchel that I have explored in my fanfics, this was the one I cherished the most. For proper perspective, one should read the previous stories, in this order:

And they Played Real Good for Free

Your Witness My Own Hand

A Symphony of Dreams

The title for this story comes from the title of a classic song by The Band.

I own none of Glee's characters. I do own all of the OC's. Reviews are welcome!

XXXxxx

Rachel Berry awoke to the shrill whine of the coffee grinder coming from the kitchen. She stretched, realized what day it was, then curled on her side, grateful there was no need to immediately get up: Finn would actually be bringing in coffee and the paper. Such was their Sunday morning luxury, when neither had to work and they needed to recover from the Saturday night Finchel gig. It had been one of those magical shows, she thought happily: Clement's solos were crisp and clean, tied to Eli and Finn's rock-solid rhythm section, and her singing had seemed effortless. The crowd at Arlene's Grocery was appreciative and vocal, which Rachel always loved. She looked forward to reading the fan emails for pictures.

Finn eventually came in with mugs of fresh black coffee, and dropped The New York Times and the latest issue of Rolling Stone on the bed. She gave him a quick kiss and settled back with the magazine while Finn perused the headlines.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "Finn, they have the review of Mercedes's new album!"

Finn looked up. "Fantastic! Read it to me." He sipped his coffee waiting for her to find the page.

"It's not the featured review," Rachel pouted, disappointed, "And they gave it only three stars!"

"They gave her first album three stars as well. And it won the Grammy".

True, but still.

She sipped some coffee and started to read:

No Back Row Belter—Mercedes Jones. Atlantic.

When Mercedes Jones burst on the soul and R&B scene several years ago, she seemed like the standard bearer for a new generation. Gone were the tedious, endless, runs-for-the sake-of-runs that made us want to fill our ears with molten lead for the last two decades. It's not like the world needed another Maria Carey. Instead, her huge, emotive roar managed to transform even the most mediocre pap into life-changing anthems. While we pointed out on these pages that her eponymous first album lacked imagination in song choice (after all, just because she can elevate mediocre pap to greatness doesn't mean she has to actually do it several times in a row on the same record), her vocal chops simply could not be denied—the record went platinum and won the Grammy for best R&B album. We have rarely felt so good about being wrong.

For her sophomore effort, we truly wanted to be able to say that Ms. Jones had gotten over the "I'm here, bitches" phase and settled into the kind of serious re-evaluation of a genre to which her mighty instrument is so uniquely suited. Alas, we must report that "No Back Row Belter" is almost completely more of the same. For most of this album, it feels like Ms Jones couldn't be bothered to delve deeper than the last couple of years' Top 40 R&B hits. But there are two signs of hope. The first is a revelatory version of the 1967 soul classic "The Dark End of the Street". Ms Jones turns this ode to the shame of illicit love into a glorious, swelling affirmation of the power of love itself. Now that's what we were talking about. But the real jewel on this album, however, is the haunting "Zambezi Lullaby", by the little-known Brooklyn-based songwriting team of Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson. It is—literally—a lullaby, sung by a mother to her maimed child-soldier son, returned from the civil war in Mozambique. Accompanied only by the nayatiti, a traditional Kenyan lyre (played by Clement Atlee, guitarist for Berry and Hudson's band Finchel), Ms. Jones takes the song's eighteen simple lines and manages to make them speak for the sorrow and anguish of an entire continent. If Ms. Jones can keep tapping wells like this, she may very well fulfill her promise as the Savior of Soul.

"Um, Rachel…." Finn said slowly, the realization dawning on him.

"I know. This can't be happening. We've just been mentioned in Rolling Stone!" She grabbed her phone.

XXXXXxxxxxx

"This Band Meeting will come to order!"

Rachel banged her little gavel on the table in their kitchen. She was glad she didn't need to use it to preside over meetings about her sex life anymore. The fact was, she still only used it to amuse Finn, who never seemed to tire of the joke. He was sitting at the opposite end of the table, playing with his wine glass, grinning to himself. Clement and Eli, blissfully clueless, had beers. Eli looked excited; Clement, thoughtful.

Band meetings were a post-Finchel-gig ritual on Sunday afternoons. Rachel and Finn would cook an early dinner, while Clement and Eli provided wine and/or beer. Dinner conversation was usually restricted to non-band talk; the four of them had become close friends over the past three years, and Rachel insisted they nurture that while eating. This Sunday, Eli's recent breakup with his girlfriend was the topic, but it was impossible to completely suppress excitement over the Rolling Stone review.

"I suppose we can call the agenda 'Where Do We Go From Here?'" Rachel said, looking around the table. Part of the ritual was for each member to briefly make a statement without interruption, in order to get a feel for what needed to be discussed. It was Clement's turn to be scribe, so he spoke first.

"I don't know what any of this means," he said soberly. "Besides, I haven't heard any of our phones ringing lately." He nodded to Eli.

"My mom wonders why I wasn't mentioned," Eli grinned. "But seriously, guys, we could be on the verge of a big break. And we need to know how we are going to handle it. "

Rachel spoke next. "Well, I was talking with Mercedes today about the review. She said anything could happen. It may just be a request to do another of our songs, but it could also mean someone coming out and scouting a Finchel gig! While I'm comfortable with practically anybody doing one of our songs—we could all use the money—I'm not sure how we should handle anything involving Finchel. I mean, what if we were presented the opportunity for a record contract, or asked to back another artist on tour?" She took a sip of wine, indicating she was done.

Finn put down his glass. "I agree with Rachel about the song thing. I mean, that song took care of a chunk of our college loans, right?" Everyone laughed. Even though Rachel and Finn wrote the songs and received songwriting credit, the band shared all of the proceeds from them equally. And it warmed Rachel to think all of them had applied the share from Mercedes's cover to pay student loans. Finn continued, "But I also agree with her and Eli that we need to decide how to handle Finchel stuff." There were nods all around, so Finn took the floor to start the discussion.

"Three years ago we started Finchel, without any of us really knowing how to be in a real band. And we've kind of grown into a family as we learned, right?" More nods. "But all four of us have one more thing in common: were still in college."

"We could always take time off from school if the need arose," Rachel pointed out, "A contract or tour could be the opportunity that never gets repeated."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Eli, "Exactly!"

Clement said nothing. It was obvious though, that he was processing everything in the background, not wanting to speak until he had it all straight.

Finn picked up his glass again. "I know we could take a break from school. And it's true this kind of opportunity, if it arose, might never come again." He paused and ran his hand through his hair, a sign Rachel knew meant he was struggling to say something. "I also know we do everything by vote, so I'm willing to go with what the band decides. But I'm going to be selfish here for a moment." Another pause. He looked directly at Rachel, and she knew he was about to be honest. Painfully so.

"When I was in high school, I wasn't much of a student. Sports, music, and video games pretty much took precedent. I knew nothing about the world or other cultures. I was destined for the future everyone had planned out for me. I was going to remain in Lima, run my stepfather's tire shop, marry a local girl, and settle down." He stared into his glass, as if he could see that alternate life playing out in the wine. Clement and Eli listened, but they had heard this story before. Rachel felt herself blushing, because she knew what was coming.

"Until I met Rachel, who showed me how to dream myself out of that town. But you know that part of the story. What you don't know is how much I love college. There was a time when I thought a higher education just wasn't for me. Man, was I wrong. I know it's kind of a cliché, but it has broadened my horizons. I could never have written songs with Rachel like "Zambezi Lullaby" if I hadn't learned about modern Africa." He paused, to let that sink in. "Yeah, that's right. We all owe our little financial windfall from the song to Queens College. I guess what I want to say is, I want us all to finish up school before we launch Finchel into the big bad world. We can only become better artists with knowledge. It's not that much longer, guys. Just until June." He looked around the table, and saw everyone taking that in.

"Shall we vote?" he asked. "I vote aye to college first."

"Finn convinced me," said Rachel. "Aye."

Eli had no problem. "Aye."

Clement thought a little more, but eventually raised his hand. "I'll make it unanimous".

Finn then asked to keep the floor.

"There is one other thing." At that he stood, walked over to Rachel, picked her up, sat down in her chair, and placed her on his lap, leaving her speechless. "I have to fulfill a promise I made to myself." He kissed the top of her head. "Rachel, of all the people in this room, you have compromised your true dreams the most." She tried to protest, but he placed a finger on her lips. "I know you love songwriting and Finchel, but don't think I haven't noticed the faraway look you get when the Tony Awards are broadcast. I know you look smoking hot in leather and leggings on stage, but I also know you yearn for Maria's dresses and Elphaba's gowns."

She couldn't have adored him more than at that moment.

"We've been here almost six years. I think it's time for you to start auditioning again, if you want."

But the implications were troubling.

"So what does that mean, Finn?" Clement finally spoke up. "You want Rachel to leave the band?"

"No, not necessarily," Finn said, holding up his hands. "But I would like to consider what the impact of Rachel starting to shoot for Broadway would have on Finchel."

Everyone was looking at her now. It felt so good to know that all three of them loved her, and would support any decision she made. They had all pledged that to each other in their very first band meeting.

"I can't deny that is what I always wanted," she said slowly. "And if I did get a part in a play, I would not be available for performances." Her face brightened. "I'd still be able to write songs, though."

"I have an idea." Rachel, Finn and Clement immediately looked to Eli, who kept glancing down, fiddling with his beer bottle, the way he usually did when coming up with suggestions. "Rachel shouldn't leave the band completely, even though she's right about her availability to Finchel when she gets a part."

Rachel went all warm inside at Eli's "when" instead of "if".

"We should get another female singer, who can share vocals with Rachel while she looks for work, and take on the role completely while Rachel is on Broadway."

This was new for all of them; they had never considered adding a new member.

"Are we talking full band rights?" Clement asked.

Finn looked at Rachel, but knew what she would say. "I think full band rights, including an equal share of the income, would be fair," he said.

"So, Rachel, what do you think?" Eli looked excited, while Finn and Clement seemed anxious.

"I…I'm not sure. Imagining someone else at the microphone is hard for me right now…but Finn's right: Broadway is my true dream, the one I practically prepared for my whole life." She grew resolute, and sat up straight in Finn's lap. "I say let's look for a singer. Full band rights."

"Aye," Finn said.

"Aye." Eli grinned as he raised his hand. Everyone looked at Clement, who remained lost in thought. He slowly raised his hand.

"Okay, Aye!"

They agreed to begin searching right away, even though Rachel said she wouldn't start auditioning until after graduation.

XXXxxxx

The neighborhood was unusually quiet for a Sunday night. There seemed to be a convergence of stillness, such that the only sound she could hear was his deep, regular breathing. Finn was comfortably spooned against her back, arm reaching over and holding her close, even as he slept. This was how they slept, and had slept every night since leaving their childhood home. Their bed was the old wooden one they had bought for almost nothing at an estate sale when they first arrived in New York.

Rachel thought back to those days when all they had was each other and their dreams. Of the long shifts at their jobs, and how she would massage Finn's aching shoulders and he would insist on rubbing her feet after being on them all day. Of him comforting her in this bed after every failed audition. "No callback sex", they named it, and that first year it was so common she sometimes came to look forward to not getting auditions. They battled the loneliness and exhaustion by exploring their new city, and trying various cuisines. And then came the songwriting, and the decision to go back to school, and Fred, and Clement and Eli, and the realization that they had made a full, rich life for themselves. A life where no one had handed them anything, a life with friends who loved them for who they were, neighbors they enjoyed and trusted, and fans who lovingly sent them pictures from their gigs.

And now it was time for Rachel to go back to her original Dream, the one she had pursued long before ever meeting Finn, but could not achieve without him. As she lay there, warm and safe, a flash of guilt came over her, a sense that she was being selfish going after this, when she had so much now already. But Finn, still asleep, snapped her out of it when his hand slid up to her breast, reminding her that he would not rest until she was what he knew she was meant to be. With the erotic shivers came confidence and the determination to make him proud. And she made a promise to him, right then and there, to stay with the songwriting and Finchel whenever she could. Because that was what she was meant to be, too.

Rachel was warm, and safe, and loved. That brought on sleep, finally, but as she dropped off, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to work with a new singer and a new dynamic.

She was sound asleep before she had time to really contemplate that.