A/N: Pointless St. Berry fluff for Valentine's Day. Inspired by a quote from a clip of Rachel's dads that they showed during Jeff Goldblum's spot on Jimmy Kimmel last night...
Disclaimer: They're not mine (although the Rachel we all use in fanfic is so different from current-canon-Rachel that I'm not sure they'd have a leg to stand on if they came after any of us).
Just Dance
When Rachel is five and starts taking her first dance class at the community center, she falls in love for the first time. After that, she can't watch a musical - or any movie, really - with her daddies without re-enacting the dance sequences. Whether it's the ballroom dance sequence from Beauty and the Beast or the hand jive in Grease, she can't help trying it.
She usually picks up the steps quickly, and sighs dramatically when Leroy (who has two left feet) stumbles or when Hiram (who is more graceful but not classically trained) misses the count. She insists on rewinding the movie and repeating it until they get it right, declaring to them, tiny hands on her hips, how important this is for her future career.
After tucking her into bed at night, Hiram and Leroy laugh to themselves about how if Rachel doesn't go on to become an actress, she'll make an excellent slave driver choreographer on Broadway instead.
When Rachel is eleven, she decides that Laurey from Oklahoma is one of her dream roles. Hiram and Leroy often come home from work and find all the furniture in the den pushed to the sides of the room as she practices the dream ballet. Neither one of them knows a thing about ballet, so she's left without a partner for that one – although they always clap enthusiastically every time she finishes.
After she's asleep, they sit up and worry about her sometimes. They know that she's already getting teased at school for being different – something that will only get worse and more vicious when she reaches high school in a few years – and even though she puts her chin up for them, they can tell she's already longing for a real best friend. Not just a partner for dance, but for everything else, too.
When Rachel is sixteen, Hiram's walking down the hallway past the den on a cold January day. Rachel and Jesse have been holed up in there for a movie marathon for most of the day, the two teens clearly looking for alone time since winter break is almost over and Jesse is flying back to L.A. for the spring semester next week. He doesn't plan on interrupting, but when he hears Rachel's laughter and the familiar opening to I've Had The Time of My Life, he can't help lingering just outside the doorframe for a moment.
The two teens are totally oblivious to his presence, too wrapped up in each other and their dancing. Jesse dips her low, her long hair brushing the carpet, then pulls her up and sends her twirling at arm's length. When he brings her back in, Rachel instantly, effortlessly, falls back into step. Their eyes never leave each others, even though the footwork is more complicated, and for a moment Hiram thinks their legs are going to get tangled – surely one of them will be off by just an inch – but they never do. The way they move together is seamless. On anyone else, the way they talk about being Broadway triple threats someday might seem farfetched. But watching the way the two of them move together, it doesn't seem so crazy.
There's something in the way that Jesse is looking at her that makes him seem much older than eighteen. Not just because his hands are – well, Hiram's not going to think about where his hands are. But the light in his eyes is soft as he pulls Rachel in to slow dance for a moment, murmuring the lyrics against her cheek.
Hiram edges silently away from the door, unwilling to intrude. Somehow, even though they've been together close to a year, he never realized how serious the two of them were about each other until just now.
He always knew that one day, Rachel would find a boy who would take their place – not just as her favorite dance partner, but as her confidant, her protector (although the idea of her ever needing one is almost laughable), her best friend. Although he feels the expected ache in his chest at the thought of her growing up, the smile on her face was so brilliant, he really can't be anything but happy.
He continues on to the kitchen, where Leroy is rifling through a bunch of takeout menus. "Did Rachel say if Jesse's staying for dinner?" he asks.
Hiram loops an arm around his husband's waist.
"Make room," he suggests. "I don't think he's going anywhere."