Title: Unasked Questions

Rating: PG

Characters: Rachel, Quinn and her friend (known as "chipper Cheerios" in the story), Mr. Schuester, Finn

Spoilers: Up to Acafellas.

Word Count: 1003

Disclaimer: The show doesn't belong to me. I did sneak the dialogue from "Acafellas," so I definitely don't own that.

Author's note: So I hate summaries. I can't write them. There's no real pairing. It's just a look at what could have been going through Rachel's mind during some of the scenes in "Acafellas." There is also a bit of poetic license in this, as well as a few run-on sentences. The mistakes are mine. Except for "favourite" which I blame on the Queen of England. ;)

She has become the sounding board for "Glee Club." When the two chipper "Cheerios" come up to her in the hallway she almost laughs at them. Surely they are losing cool points or something. She is confused. These girls are confident and competent and asking her to talk to Mr. Schue about his dance routines. Are they so gutless?

And as she talks to Mr. Schue in front of the club, she recognizes why.

Those girls knew, knew that Mr. Schue would take it hard, that hurting him would hurt the club. They're just dance moves. But the club has to be priority one.

Still, watching his face fall that day and having to run rehearsals herself three weeks in a row takes a toll.

She lays awake in her room one night, hours after having posted her song, she thinks about that look, tries to name it. It's not despair, or trouble, or anxious. It's part shock, part distraction, part disbelief. And it tears at her.

She walks into the kitchen at 1 o'clock in the morning sets out the flour, sugar, butter, and other assorted ingredients. She carefully mixes them together with love. What you feel goes into your cooking. She's always believed that. She rolls the cookies out and cuts them into stars, not because they're her favourite shape, but because she's sure that Mr. Schue will see the irony.

She tosses and turns when she returns to her bed that night, throwing the covers off, pulling them back on, hot and cold, hot and cold, hot and cold. She turns from side to side, trying to find a comfortable spot. She watches the clock tick second-by-second.

When her alarm finally goes off, she's not surprised.

Her first stop when she arrives at the school is her locker. She drops off her bag, checks to see that her makeup is carefully placed to cover the dark patches, just as the liner is there to brighten her eyes. When she feels satisfied that she's done as much with her appearance as possible, she picks up the platter with one hand and closes the slim metal door with more force than is really necessary.

She walks the halls, her head held high, rehearsing her speech.

I baked these cookies to show you how sorry I am for what I said to you about your dance routines.

It's irrational, but true.

When she finally says it aloud, she's shocked by Mr. Schue's response. He really has none. He doesn't accept her cookies.

She thinks it's because he doesn't accept her apology either.

When she gets to the rehearsal room, where everyone is waiting to see if Mr. Schuester will arrive or not, she stops, tugs on her clothes, looking on them as a costume for the monologue she must now deliver to a room full of people who might be able to see that all she's doing is play acting. Who might see how hurt she really is by his rejection.

She doesn't expect to be involved in a full-out war with Finn. He knows her better than the others, and he calls her on her bullshit. Tells her what she already knows, but never thought he would have the guts to say. It's her fault.

When the bell rings, she rushes out to her locker. She feels him follow her before he calls out to her. She pauses but can't make herself turn around. There are too many layers - of anger, betrayal, doubt – when it comes to Finn and her feelings (for) towards him. She listens carefully to him and feeds him the rational response. "It's all about winning."

He knocks her down with two words. "Since when?"

Her brain scrambles and comes up with some reasoning. He has football. He has friends. He has his peppy little blonde girlfriend. All she has is Glee and herself and a voice that could take her places.

He accuses her of doing the "chick thing" where she's mad about something outwardly, but really pissed off about something entirely different. She uses the only defense she has, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, for a while there you were all over me and now you just yell at me all the time. It makes me think that you're still upset about what happened in the auditorium."

She flashes back to a simpler moment where only she and Finn existed. There was no Quinn, or Mr. Schue, or dance issues… or Quinn. Only Finn and a piano, and some juice, and a kiss.

"I'm not…" She forces herself to see the words as truth.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She starts to laugh, but stops herself. If this conversation had happened before she would have turned to him and joked about him being the girl in their relationship. Finn would have backed away steadily, frightened by the fact that she had acknowledged that they were… something. Then she would have made a comment about how his girlfriend probably wouldn't want him talking to her, or found a way to ease out of the talk.

But it's not before.

The truth is they kissed.

The truth is she cares about him.

The truth is she is hurt. And upset. And angry. And confused. She does want to talk about it. She wants to know why. Why he set her up, why he kissed her in the first place, why he did it again, why he stopped so suddenly, why he got up, why he left her.

The truth is hard and scary and revolving around three small words. "Don't tell anybody…" Three words that shattered her.

"No, and neither do you…. We're hiring Dakota Stanley."

"Even if it means me quitting?"

She should have expected that line, but she didn't. She works hard at closing herself off from him before she responds.

"Yes."

And walks away, trying to keep from turning around to see if he has done the same.