Thank you for the story alerts, and even though I didn't get a lot of reviews, I'm still glad that some of you read this story. Anyways, this chapter is longer than the previous ones and I hope you enjoy them. I'm working on another Finchel fic but I don't have a clear storyline for it yet, so stay tuned. The next chapter will be up Friday :)

Chapter Two

"Okay, let's attack this logically," I say and Quinn laughs again. She does not need to explain that the very idea of my attacking anything via logic is ridiculous. "I'm serious. What did you get him last year?"

"That incredible sweater you helped me find. He loves it — wears it all the time. And the year before that it was the desk set for his new office after he made partner. And before —"

"How about something for his bike?" Over the past summer Finn had become an avid biker and so Quinn and I had gotten into the sport, as well. With Quinn often tied up with church programming events on the weekends, Finn and I would frequently go without her. Riding a bike, I had discovered, was a fairly benign form of working out that did not necessarily involve sweating, and it was a great way to meet guys. "How about biking gloves?" I suggest.

Quinn makes a face. "I tried that for his birthday, remember? I paid a fortune for gloves only to find out they were for mountain biking."

I throw out a number of other suggestions — all of which Quinn rejects —as the train speeds us to the mall and we emerge into the lights, sounds and smells that declare, "You have arrived in Shopper Heaven!"

Quinn lets out a sigh that announces she's ready to give up before we start. "So many stores," I say, taking her arm and pulling her into the throngs of holiday shoppers.

"So few ideas," she replies as I lead her to the nearest boutique for men. "Hey, thanks for coming in to help out today," she says. Quinn is always one to bring things back to the positive.

I had stopped by the church to help Quinn and her assistant get out a mailing about the next session of the popular matchmaking program Quinn had pretty much invented. Like there aren't a gazillion other dating games or match programs around, but this one is honestly different. Quinn came up with the idea of limiting it to people ready for a serious commitment in a faith–based relationship. I have to say that when she first came up with the idea, I thought she was nuts, but refrained from saying so directly.

"Interesting," was my comment.

"You think it's doomed," she replied, "but that's okay."

Another huge sigh from Quinn brings me back to the task at hand. "This is hopeless," she says as we leave store number three. "I'm going home. Maybe inspiration will strike in the night."

We are standing across from the bookstore and I realize that inspiration is just inside those doors.

"Poetry," I say.

"Poetry?" Quinn repeats. "For Finn?"

"There's a special new leather–bound edition that would be perfect." I know this because it is what I had intended to give Finn, but hey, what are friends for?

I can see that Quinn is trying hard to get her brain around the words poetry and Finn in the same sentence.

"Or not," I say and shrug. "It's just something he mentioned in passing. We were biking last month and I said something about the scenery and he quoted something from a poet who's name I cannot remember. I called him on it, and he admitted that he'd had a thing for the poet's work since college."

Quinn hugs me. "You know, in some ways you know Finn way better than I do. Let's go." She leads the way to the bookstore.

I am happy to follow, knowing the sooner we take care of Finn's gift, the sooner I can focus on my own shopping. But for some reason, I feel an odd sense of disappointment. I shake it off, reminding myself that handing over the gift idea to Quinn is exactly why we are such good friends. Either of us would gladly give up the shirt on our back (or in this case, the perfect gift idea) if it would help the other one.

After all, Finn and I usually don't exchange gifts. I had thought of giving him the book to thank him for fixing three flat tires for me. Then there was the day he rescued me when my tire got stuck in the tracks of a railroad crossing and I came close to catapulting over the handlebars. The three of us still laugh about that one on a regular basis, although Finn always brings us back to reality by saying, "Thank heavens, we can laugh about it. Rachel could have been seriously injured." Through biking, Finn and I have definitely moved to a new level of friendship.

So, that's why I had considered breaking the unwritten rules and getting him something. Of course, I wasn't going to get gushy about it. I planned to casually hand him the gift — perhaps on Christmas Eve when the three of us always pull an all–nighter after midnight services. We spend the night talking and eating and making plans for the coming year.

"Just a little something to thank you for being my biking buddy," I planned to say. Buddies. Right? Right. That was an accurate description of our relationship. Buddies kept things in the proper perspective.

"I'm sorry," the clerk tells Quinn. "I'm afraid we're all sold out of that edition. We have it in paperback."

"Not the same thing," I reply, disappointed on a whole new level. After all, even if Quinn is giving the gift, the important thing is for Finn to have the special edition.

"Thank you," Quinn tells the clerk. "We'll find something," she reassures me and links her arm through mine as we exit the store.

It's not unusual for us to walk along like this, arm in arm, heads bent close in a serious discussion of the world and its woes — or more likely our immediate world and personal woes. Today I realize that this physical connection is exactly what I need — a reminder of all that we are to each other. Somehow in the bookstore and even before, that connection seemed in jeopardy.

"I've got it," I say, triumphant at the simplicity of the solution. "You can order it online."

I see by Quinn's expression that I have made her day and that is gift enough for anyone. "So, let's go do some real shopping," I say and pull her along as I enter the first available boutique and walk straight into Finn.

A/N: So Finn will finally appear on the next chapter. Please review! TY!