A/N: Thank you for the phenomenal response to this story. It's been amazing. And, uh…. Keep it coming. Haha.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Rachel leaned on the counter, watching her Daddy as he buzzed around, still fiddling with timers on the appliances. He seemed a little less chipper than he had when she saw him up in her room, but she wasn't sure she wanted to ask why. The only time his demeanor slipped was when he and Dad were arguing. Now that she was in a relationship of her own, she understood the importance of privacy and keeping things just between two people. She knew she had a lot more of that in her future, too. It wasn't secrecy exactly, but discretion. She was aiming for more discretion this time around with Finn. It wasn't a quality that came easily to her.

She perched her chin into her palm. After he hadn't said anything for a solid five minutes since she sat down on the bar stool at the counter, she couldn't avoid at least asking. "Everything okay, Daddy?"

He sighed and turned around. He should've known she would catch him. "I suppose. Just a minor disagreement. We'll get through it." She nodded patiently and he didn't explain further. "I'm wondering, though, if it might be better to have Finn over another time."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

He moved to pull a bowl of grapes out of the fridge and slid them across the counter to her. She took three and popped them into her mouth in quick succession as she watched him.

"Well, he wasn't very thrilled that I let Finn stay in your room or that Finn fell asleep on your bed."

Rachel sighed, opening her mouth to attempt an argument but Daddy held up his hand.

"It's okay. You're down here anyway so it's not like we suspect anything untoward. Especially because you told me he hasn't been sleeping well to begin with and if there's one thing I remember about being a teenage boy, it's that they sleep all the time." He smiled and shrugged. "But the fact of the matter is that you're growing up and sometimes that isn't easy for us old men to accept." He cast a doubtful glance toward the stairs. "And we remember other things about being a teenage boy."

"Are you trying to give me the sex talk?" She asked dryly, raising her eyebrows and reaching for another handful of grapes.

He hesitated. "I'm trying to express concern. And since you gave me a dirty look before when I didn't do anything wrong, I'm attempting to do it in private." He leveled a glance at her, pressing his lips together so dimples indented his cheeks. Try as they might to deny it, Rachel really did look a fair amount like him. His annoyed look now was a lot like the annoyed look she had thrown upstairs when he was stern with Finn.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm thanking God you didn't bring Noah Puckerman home." His voice dropped to a more confidential volume as he picked up a handful of grapes and spread his palm out to study them instead of watch her. "But that pregnant girl was Finn's girlfriend first and he accepted her at her word that the baby was his. If that's the kind of relationship he had before…it's probably the kind of relationship he's going to expect again."

"How do you know all of this?" Rachel asked softly, watching him as he struggled a little to get the words out. He was afraid she would be angry with him.

"Annie struggled quite a bit when she found out her son had fathered a child at sixteen. She learned a lot about him then that she didn't really like, and she spent a lot of time talking to me and your dad about it all." His head came up and he smiled a little. "She asked how we had managed to raise you to be such a good girl."

Rachel nodded. "Well, you have raised me to be a good girl and I have goals, Daddy. I'm not going to give all that up the way Quinn and Noah almost did. They gave it all up for a little while anyway and it made everyone miserable." She lowered her voice, casting her own cautious glance towards the stairs. "And just for the record, Quinn misled Finn in that situation. There was technically no way he could've fathered her child. But that doesn't mean it didn't scare him into…" she shrugged. She didn't really want to say it, not to her dad. "We're taking things very slowly."

Daddy held up his hands to stop her. "Okay. That's enough detail for me, thank you very much."

She smiled brightly. "Good," she breathed, the word like a sigh of relief as she relaxed her tense shoulders a little.

"I'll talk to your dad about it naturally, but even if we skip dinner this week, I think Finn will still be welcome here."

She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy." Her hand lingered on the smooth material of his dress shirt as she posed her next question. She knew Finn wouldn't be thrilled about it, but it also might alleviate some of the pressure he was carrying on his shoulders right now. "Could we do dinner tomorrow night instead? That way, you and dad can work this out. We're supposed to meet Finn's family anyway and try to work out some of the issues they're having. Maybe it would set him at ease a little bit if we postponed for a night."

He nodded. "That would be fine, sweetheart. Will you please just come home and light the candles for me?" She nodded her agreement as her eyes darted to the clock. It was just after five o'clock now, and if she remembered correctly the 'same time and place' Carole had mentioned on the phone was a five-thirty dinner at Breadstix. She grabbed a big handful of grapes from the bowl; those would probably have to tide her over because the menu at Breadstix was not her favorite.

"Yes. I'm going to go wake Finn up now because I think we need to leave," she admitted. "But thank you for everything." She moved off the counter and gave him a smile over her shoulder before she bounced up the stairs quickly, filling her mouth with grapes as she went.

She stopped for a minute in her doorway, looking at Finn as he slept. He had pulled the blanket around him tightly and rolled even more onto his stomach. The arm of his she could see was flung over her pillow and his face was pressed into it tightly. His breathing was deep and nearly silent. He was out cold. She didn't really want to wake him up. She wasn't sure how she should wake him up.

Once she had finished chewing her snack (and okay, so what if she stopped by her vanity as she walked through the room, flashing a smile and making sure her mouth was clean? It was good practice for days when the paparazzi was stalking her outside of restaurants anyway), she went over to the side of the bed closest to his face. She pressed a kiss to the side of his head and was surprised to feel his entire body shift, then his arm lift up so he could pull her under the blanket with him, like he was taking a bird under his quilt-embroidered purple satin wing. He kissed her forehead and then pulled his eyes half-open to look at her with a shy, sleepy smile.

Her Daddy's words came back to her a little bit.

If that's the kind of relationship he had before…it's probably the kind of relationship he's going to expect again.

She wondered if maybe pulling her next to him was a leftover habit from the long relationship he had been in before. How many times had he playfully flirted with Quinn like this? Maybe her dad wasn't talking just about sex. She didn't know how to do any of this. Even with Jesse, she had maintained more distance than this. There had never been anything truly intimate about their relationship, and the way it ended had made her feel like maybe she was fooling herself that anyone would want to be that intimate with her. Who would possibly want to be inside the mind of someone as intense and crazed as Rachel Berry?

She pushed away from him as gently as she could, trying to ignore his frown as her feet hit the ground and even harder to ignore the familiar wash of self-doubt as it threatened to drown her a little bit. If she ignored it, it would go away; it always did. "Hey, sorry to wake you, but I think we need to go. Your mom said same time and place for dinner."

He watched her carefully, tipping himself upward as the blanket she'd tucked around him loosened and his hand came up to rub at his eye. He was a little disoriented and wondered how long he'd actually been asleep because it felt like a lifetime. "What, um…" he cleared his throat. "What time is it?"

"A little after five," she said, pointing to the clock that was behind him. "You usually go with your mom around five-thirty, don't you?"

He nodded and couldn't restrain the huge yawn that escaped. "Yeah, at Breadstix. And I need to stop at my house and find a tie."

She shook her head a little. "Daddy cancelled. We're going to have dinner with them tomorrow night."

"But what about the drive-in?"

"We can go after," she promised. "We have dinner earlier on Saturdays because it breaks the Shabbat."

He shook his head. "You're gonna have to explain all that to me sometime." He watched her. She was still acting all distant and weird. He was asleep—what could he possibly have done? He sighed. "You okay?"

She nodded and plastered on a fake, too-small smile. "Yeah," she offered before she turned. He slid to the edge of the bed and bent down to grab his shoes and put them on. As he bent, he looked to make sure (even though he already knew) there was nothing that could've brushed up against her or made her uncomfortable about being close to him. There wasn't. He'd been so dead asleep he didn't even have a dream. Did he have bad breath or something? He searched his memory. He was pretty sure he put on deodorant this morning after he went to the rec center for his workout. His clothes were clean, he had showered… nope, no hygiene issues. No…man…issues. What was wrong?

He wasn't any closer to figuring it out by the time his shoes were tied.

He stood up quickly, following her to where she was waiting in her bedroom doorway with her purse tucked over her shoulder. He scowled a little as she looked at him expectantly. She still wasn't smiling, but she didn't necessarily look mad.

Maybe while she was explaining all the Jewish stuff, she could explain how to read her mind, too. That would be something useful he could learn, even if it took a long time. He had a feeling it would take a really, really long time for a girl like Rachel. Her mind was always going and her mouth was usually only about two steps behind. He realized, maybe a few minutes too late, that her silence was how he knew there was a problem. He was already on his way to figuring her out. The next step might be getting her to talk about something that mattered.

Breadstix wasn't too far from her house and she had rambled on the whole time about something or other, but she still hadn't said what was bothering her. If it wouldn't have been for the sudden change in her attitude when she pulled away from him, he wouldn't have ever known something was wrong, and that made him almost even more nervous. By the time he pulled his truck into the small parking lot behind the restaurant, he was so worked up he wasn't sure he could even make words.

All the same, he jogged around to open her door (finally, finally she waited. That had taken a long time to drill into her thick skull), and then kept his grip on her hand once she was standing on her own feet. He relaxed a little when she didn't hurry to let go.

Sometimes though, she would press herself into his side as they walked so their arms would touch all the way from their hands up to her shoulder, and she would be close enough he could kiss her and smell her hair again. She stayed back this time, though, and let him lead the way a little bit. So…better but still not normal? Man, he wanted her to fold into his side so she could hold him up while he was talking to his family. She'd only been gone for a few minutes but he sure did miss her.

They were a little bit early, there ahead of his mom and Burt, so they got a table for four and sat down. Even though it was Friday, it was early enough the place wasn't too crowded yet and they didn't have to wait for a table. Once they sat down and got drinks, Rachel practically shocking him by ordering root beer. He had just opened her mouth to ask her if that was actually vegan when she saw something by the front door that made her face crumple as she breathed out a harsh noise.

"What?" He asked, his eyes following the invisible trail hers were making to see for himself that Kurt had just walked in.

She shook her head. "Your mom told me Kurt wasn't coming."

Kurt spotted them and waved. Yeah, he was totally looking for them and that was lame. Finn had kind of been looking forward to the chance to say what he had to say without Kurt there to be all victimized about it.

"Will you trade me places so I don't have to sit by him?" Finn asked in a low voice.

Rachel frowned a little bit. Of course Kurt would want to sit by Finn. Kurt thought of proximity as a way to persuade people. She hated it when he did that. If he was arguing with her, he always ended up right in her face, demanding she see his point.

Finn was usually subject enough to peer pressure that she wondered if Kurt honestly thought he could pressure Finn into being gay—if only he said the right words about how 'cool' it would make him. She shook her head even as she felt herself starting to get mad. Being gay wasn't cool or uncool, it was just how you were. Finn shouldn't have to change that for Kurt. Why couldn't Kurt see that?

"Yeah, trade me," she said simply. She was surprised when, instead of getting up, he moved to just slide underneath her. She was small enough that it meant she brushed across his lap as she slid, his hands at her waist with a warm brush of skin she felt even through the piqued cotton of her dress.

She had been an idiot earlier. She could definitely get used to being close to him like that. She should've just sunk in and enjoyed the hug. Once she was settled on the other side of him, she tried to make it up to him a little bit by moving over to press against him with the length of their legs. His thighs were a lot longer than hers and it made her feel like a little kid.

He watched her as she settled in right next to him, looking at her face for any sign of why she was being so hot and cold. There was nothing as she turned her head to smile at him, so he put his arm around her shoulders and leaned forward to take a drink before he realized he was drinking from her straw not his. Their drinks hadn't magically switched places.

Kurt surprised them both by dropping into the booth on the empty bench. "Hi, guys. Sorry for the last minute change."

"Whatever," Rachel said fiercely, peeling her eyes away from Finn's lips wrapped around her straw so she could lean forward. "You just wanted to undermine him."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You thought there was no way he could pull off introducing me as his girlfriend and straightening things out with your parents. What is your problem, exactly? Why are you trying to ruin his life? He deserves a family, too, you know."

Finn looked at her with raised eyebrows. He had felt the shift in her posture, the way her shoulders tightened up as she prepared for battle. He thought maybe he'd gotten her to relax a little. He wasn't so sure he appreciated Kurt changing all that. But man, she was just getting started. He had heard that thread in her voice before and it was only when she was being defensive and maybe mad. She had that tone a lot when she talked to Kurt.

Kurt folded his arms and sat back against the green vinyl, his jaw set and unable to say exactly what he was thinking in front of Finn.

Finn decided maybe he should change the subject. He used his free hand to bat at the bottle of root beer and slide it back toward Rachel. It bumped the clear plastic cup that held his coke and the drink fizzed a little.

"Could I have my drink back?" He asked. He noticed his voice was deeper when he was talking to her like this and he wondered if she liked it. Maybe that was the problem before. Maybe she wanted to hear his voice and he hadn't said anything before he pulled her close because it was like his voice shook her out of her funk. She looked over at him with a smile before she picked up the bottle to get her own drink out of his way. She pulled the bottle to her lips for a drink and he totally forgot what he was doing as her lips wrapped around the straw. Her lip gloss today was a little lighter pink than normal but it made her lips all shiny and he wondered if it was a different flavor than the darker pink one she usually wore…

He was so distracted; maybe this was all a bad idea. He wasn't sure he could think clearly with her around. He peeled his eyes away from her mouth to move his cup and take a drink of his own soda, leaning forward and leaving it on the table so he had a reason to look away. He never needed it more than a few seconds later when her hand rested on his thigh. He knew the muscle tensed up under her touch and totally not in a bad way, but…yeah, he wanted his leg to fall asleep so he would be able to think of something other than her hand on his thigh.

The waitress came by, offering refills of their drinks and taking Kurt's drink request. That was about the point Burt and Carole walked through the door at the front of the restaurant and saw them all in the same beat. Kurt moved from the empty bench to sit next to Rachel as the parents settled in on the other side. Kurt was trying so hard not to actually touch Rachel or potentially brush against Finn's hand that one of his legs was hanging off the side of the bench.

"H-hey!" Burt said in surprise at seeing Kurt, taking in the three tense teenagers sitting opposite him and Carole all at once. This was not going to be easy or necessarily pleasant. "Kurt, we can move to another table if we need to."

Kurt shot an icy glance at Rachel who dared him with her eyes to say anything negative about the arrangements that were made after he had imposed himself somewhere he'd previously not been expected.

"No, this is fine," Kurt said primly.

Finn raised his eyebrows. When Rachel's head was turned, he couldn't see the look on her face but Kurt now had the fear of God in his eyes. Since Kurt didn't believe in God and was pretty open about all that, whatever Rachel had said with her face was major. He didn't envy Kurt. And he was pretty happy, all over again, that she was his girl; that she was here with him now. He turned his wrist so his hand rested on her shoulder.

"So, guys, this is Rachel," Finn said simply. "And Rachel," he used his free hand to gesture. "This is Burt Hummel, Kurt's dad…and Carole Hudson, my mom."

"Nice to meet you," she said. "Thank you for letting us come tonight."

Carole nodded. "Thank you for calling," she said, directing a glance at Rachel before her eyes bore into Finn's. "We appreciate you 'messing with our family', I think is how you said it."

Rachel just nodded, letting the thanks bounce off her like she usually did. Finn knew she was soaking it up like a sponge and just trying to seem casual about it. The times when she let things bounce were so far and few between he wondered if she might be nervous. She pulled the bottle of root beer back to her mouth for a sip and, as his eyes followed, he thought he might be able to watch her do that all day. He was a loser.

Once she was done with the drink, she set the bottle back down. The silence at the table was not a comfortable one and Rachel naturally assumed the lead in the conversation because that's just the way she was. Plus, it was obvious pretty immediately no one else was willing to get their hands dirty like that. She was also not one for small talk, so she just started.

"So, Finn told me part of a conversation he had with Kurt was overheard," she said simply. She looked over at Finn who refused to move his eyes from her face while she spoke. In part it was because he liked watching her, but the larger part of it was he didn't want to see any of the reactions. Her look at him was nothing more than a glance before she faced his mom and Burt head-on. Kurt was twisted oddly in the seat, still maintaining physical distance but watching her sideways.

"It wasn't a conversation. He was yelling," Kurt finally said. As with before, whatever Rachel's face said shut him right up. Finn gulped air a little.

"Well, anyway, he told me that things were misinterpreted a little and he wasn't allowed to defend himself. I have no reason to doubt what he said, but would you agree this is a fair assessment of the situation?" She directed a cool gaze to Burt. Carole was looking at him questioningly.

Burt, for his part, seemed a little unnerved at her blunt nature, but was not worked up at all as he answered. "Sounds about right. I can't think of anything that would defend what I heard, though."

Rachel nodded. "He said that he referred to the furnishings in the room as 'faggy'. Correct?"

Finn's eyes widened. It was the only time he had ever seen her use such a word and he caught the flicker in her face that made it clear she wasn't comfortable with it. It sounded wrong to hear her choke that out, to hear her sweet voice say something like that. He felt ashamed all over again.

"Yeah," Burt said flatly. "That's right." He tossed a glance at Finn, but Finn was too busy keeping his eyes on Rachel as she spoke. She opened her mouth to continue, but Burt cut her off. "But when you say that kind of a word, there is no excuse; he was talking about Kurt that way."

Finn felt his jaw tighten. He wanted to say something, to defend Rachel since she had clearly been about to speak, but the words were stuck on the back of his tongue, gagging him. He should've known she could handle it anyway.

"Are you done? I'd like to speak now since you cut me off," she said. She made solid eye contact with Burt and he shut his mouth.

"I understand where you're coming from when you say that. I disagree with you, but I understand what you're saying. I think it's important for you to realize that you only have half the story and you cut Finn out of your life before you let him even attempt to fill you in on the other half." She looked over at Finn, but he still looked kind of like he might throw up. He obviously wasn't going to say anything just yet. Her hand was still on his thigh and she gave it a little squeeze but the gesture didn't change the look on his face.

"Kurt had been expressing an interest in Finn for months before anything happened with your families," she replied. Finn dragged his eyes away from her to Burt and his mom. Carole was just listening and Burt was too, but looked maybe a little bit sick.

Rachel continued, undeterred and still hoping Finn would jump in to actually defend himself. "He had put Finn in several uncomfortable positions that you might not have been aware of; things like singing love songs to him in glee club and making comments about having a romantic relationship every chance he got."

"How is that any different than what you did?" Kurt finally said, tears standing in his eyes. The words came out somewhere between a gasp and a hiss.

"Let me spell this out for you, Kurt," she replied. She tossed her head to the side with emphasis, pulling her arms against her chest as her neck snapped and her hair flipped to direct every word at the boy sitting next to her. "Finn is not gay. Finn is not interested in boys. The fact that I don't have a penis is enough of a difference between you and me for him."

Finn choked on air, Burt's eyes got wide, and Carole raised her hand to her mouth. Finn squeezed Rachel's shoulder—hard—and tried to get her attention.

"Rach, come on." He said softly. "Watch it, please. This is just going to make things worse."

"No, Finn!" She turned her head and he sank back a little bit. "His behavior is ridiculous and it's time someone stood up to him. I guess I have to be the one since I'm the one he seems to call out the most frequently."

Finn had nothing to say in response as Kurt continued to gape at her. He looked at Kurt for the first time in probably a week and shrugged.

Rachel redirected her attention to Kurt. "You might have tried to speak up initially when all of this was happening. I can't know because there were only three people in the room and only one of them has told me anything that happened at all. But you and I both know that your behavior contributed in a huge way to the situation as it stands now, and in the end you backed down and let someone else take the fall when you were partially responsible."

"Now wait a minute—" Burt cut in.

Rachel held up her hand. "No. You've had your turn. It's mine now."

"She's right, Dad," Kurt squeaked out. Burt raised his eyebrows and collapsed a little bit, but didn't say anything as Kurt continued. "Finn told me he was uncomfortable around me. More than once…and when he started talking that day, his first statement was that he didn't want to have to worry about what I would say or do that was inappropriate in his own room. He had said most of it to me before, but I persisted anyway. He was right."

"He wasn't right," Burt said, but his voice had a little less fire in it.

With all the silence between arguments, Finn finally felt like he could speak.

"I shouldn't have said what you heard and I am sorry about at least that part," he jumped in. "But before you let me speak at all, you told me to leave even if it cost you my mom." Rachel gave Finn's thigh another squeeze and he let his fingertips trace the shoulder on her dress for comfort; for courage. "You told me you didn't want poison like me in your house. I don't want to come back if that's what you really think of me. I can't live in a house where someone stares at me all the time because it creeps me out. Me and Kurt are different and it isn't bad, but…just because he's sensitive doesn't mean I'm going to take all the blame when we fight about it. I have to be able to defend myself."

"You don't understand the first thing about being gay," Kurt said, his voice fierce. "You don't know what it feels like to have to fight for every single thing just because you're you."

"I understand that," Rachel said simply, cutting in even as her eyes were planted firmly on her lap. "Yet would say that I'm content to sit back and play the victim?"

Kurt's jaw flapped a little, at a loss for words. She took his silence as a sign she should keep going.

"No. You just have to power through. You have to let your attitude talk for you and stand in the face of everything that terrifies you. And you can't back down," she whispered. "But you do. You wait for someone else to take up the cause and it's annoying."

Kurt snorted a little bit. "You're calling me annoying?" He asked with a little laugh.

"Yes," she said flatly. "Because you have no trouble standing up to me, but you can't seem to do it when it really matters. This isn't a solo or some sort of a singing showdown. This is your family and you're hurting someone I care about. That's annoying." The words came out fast and low.

"I-I'm sorry," Kurt said in a small voice.

"I don't need your apology. Finn's the one who deserves it."

Kurt flipped a glance to Finn. "She's right, Finn. I'm sorry. I-I…I don't know what else to say."

Finn sighed. "I'm sorry too, man," he said in a low voice. He looked over to Burt. "I'm sorry, too. I'm part of a new generation of dude, I just..." he closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just need to learn how to keep my mouth shut."

Carole was next. She was looking right at Finn. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she said. Her voice was soft. "I should've gotten all sides of the story. And I should've known there was more to it because I know your heart. You needed me to be your mother and I let you down. I'm sorry."

If being angry was something Finn didn't handle well, emotional displays were even worse. He had retracted his arm from around Rachel to tuck both his hands between his knees as he leaned forward, eyes trained on the table as he took in their words but didn't respond to any of it. Rachel turned her head to look at him, to watch him carefully as he leaned forward and took a small drink of his dwindling soda. Before too long, he wasn't going to have anything to hide behind because his drink would be gone.

Burt spoke last and, although his tone was conversational, his words were resolute. "I'm really glad I misjudged the situation but I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry for defending my son," he said simply. "I'm going to have to get to know you better before you're welcome in my home again, Finn. That's all there is to it."

Finn didn't look up. "I don't want to come back, Burt. And you're not going to get to know me better."

Rachel's eyes closed and she put her hand on Finn's shoulder. His voice was so low it could barely be heard. His breathing was careful and she knew he was mad and he was hurt and he was focusing on his breathing because it was probably the only thing he could control at the moment.

"Finn," Carole said in gentle protest. Maybe even a little begging. "Come on."

He looked up at his mom. They didn't say anything, just stared at each other. His leg pressed against Rachel's and she knew immediately what he needed. He needed to go.

She looked over to Kurt, her tone totally different. She reached down and took Finn's hand as she said the words. "Will you please move?" She asked Kurt. He was so close to the edge of the seat that all he had to do was stand up. Finn let her pull him and didn't look at anyone else.

He followed her outside, almost on auto pilot. He was still holding her hand and she leaned against him, pressing her shoulder into his bicep as they plodded slowly to his truck.

"Will you…will you drive please?" He requested, retrieving the keys from his pocket and handing them over to her. She accepted them as they reached the truck, but she didn't know where she was going to go. She wasn't sure what he needed or what was going on, and she hated the uncertainty of it.

She figured out where they were going right about the time they arrived at the municipal park. He seemed to know this was where she was going, too, and he turned to grab the blanket from the small area in the cab of the truck behind the seats to retrieve the blanket they had laid on all afternoon just two days ago.

They worked wordlessly to get the car locked up and the blanket spread and smoothed over the ground and then laid down on it, but he laid down and dropped his head onto her stomach instead of just laying beside her.

There was no hesitation in the physical contact this time. This was what he needed. As he pressed his head against her stomach, feeling the hard line of muscle underneath his ear, he brought a hand up to toy with the hem of her skirt.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she admitted carefully. She raised a hand up to play with his hair. "What's going on?"

He sighed and was totally embarrassed to feel tears in his eyes as he choked out the words. "I just realized Burt will never be my dad. Him and my mom can stay together forever and he'll always just be Kurt's dad. I'll still be by myself." She frowned.

"I want my dad," he said simply before he turned his face into her dress and closed his eyes, letting his tears drip into the material. She didn't point out that what he wanted was something he had never known and couldn't wish for anyway; he couldn't wish for it if he didn't know what it was like to have it, could he? "I just want someone who's on my side, you know?"

"I'm here," she said simply, helplessly. She let her fingers drift through his hair and brought her free hand up cradle her head in her palm. It was still not dark yet, but the sky was cloudless. She could see the faint outline of the moon so she fixed her gaze on that as he wrapped both his arms around her and held on tight.

This was not how she had pictured offering comfort. This was not how she pictured being a real girlfriend. This was not how she had imagined intimacy. It was so much more. She was unsurprised to feel herself crying along with him.

She was also unsurprised when he finally moved and, despite the fact her eyes were closed, she knew he was coming before she felt his soft lips moving against hers. She kissed him slowly, letting the hand that had been in his hair come up to resume its place messing with his hair even more. One thing she'd discovered about Finn? He wasn't vain enough to care if she messed his hair up when they kissed. In fact, he was so unparticular about his hair anyway (unlike Jesse) that you couldn't even tell. It just stuck out at different angles.

He pulled away and gave her a little smile as she used her thumbs to wipe the tears off his cheeks.

"Feel better?" She asked slowly. She dragged her eyes open and smiled at him, even though his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were a little red.

"Yeah. I had a question and you answered it."

"Really? I didn't say anything." She asked. His smile widened a little and he pressed another soft, short kiss to her mouth.

"Well, I noticed your lip gloss was a different color. So I wondered if it tasted the same."

Her hand dropped to her lips. Her lip gloss was long since kissed off, but she hadn't realized she grabbed a different kind.

"It does," he said simply. "But I have another question."

"Okay…" she asked. For some reason, she felt totally knocked off-balance by his last question.

"What was wrong earlier? Why did you pull away from me so fast?" He asked. He gave her another small kiss to hopefully make her not think so much and give him a real answer. It was step one of getting to know what was in her real mind, not the stage face she put on.

She was caught up in his soft kisses and didn't think. "It was stupid…I was thinking about something my dad said."

This caught his attention and his head pulled back abruptly. "What?"

Rachel sighed, her fingers still tripping over his hairline as she looked over his face. How could she ever be anything but honest with him? It hit her like a kick to the gut. "He was worried that you've had sex before and would expect it from me. I told him we were going slow. But then I came to wake you up and you pulled me close and I realized I've never had that with anyone, either. You and Quinn probably had all kinds of intimacy like that, even if you never had sex." Her voice was low at the end and she couldn't look right at his eyes as he realized what she actually said.

"Going slow…" he nodded. "Going slow is good."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he admitted. He gave her one last, short and sweet kiss before he reclined back against her to stare up at the slightly darkened sky.

"Because if you expect that…" she sighed and she didn't recognize her own voice as she squeaked out the last, most honest part. "Well, I just don't know how to do any of this. I'm scared."

"See, maybe that's how we do this," he said. "I don't know. Like, I cry like a girl and talk about my family. And you tell me you're scared." His head moved against her stomach and she could feel his eyes on her chin, but she wouldn't be able to see him if she looked down anyway. It didn't matter because she could feel him. He let out a deep breath. "And then we just breathe for a while."

She swallowed hard but didn't speak. He was right. And she realized something else: Grease had no idea about those summer nights.