Thanks for all the awesome reviews guys, they make writing this so much more fun!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee…if I did, I'd be writing their scripts, not this fanfic
Finn had never slept so soundly in the garage. Hell, he wasn't sure he'd EVER slept that well, no matter where he was. As soon as Artie had shut off the lights, he'd been out, sleeping like a rock. Usually when they did this kind of thing, he'd wake up every hour or so because Puck was kicking him or Artie was talking in his sleep or it was stifling hot in the garage and he couldn't sleep with all the blankets on him. Or there would be a bug around his ears, or the smell of gasoline would be too strong; there was always something to keep him awake and agitated. But this time he'd been in a comfortable dream (which he couldn't remember, of course), feeling more at ease than he had in a long time.
He was the first one up, as always. He didn't open his eyes until the others got up usually, but laid there conscious. Finn wasn't an early riser by any definition, but he did get up earlier than Puck or Artie…and he supposed Rachel too. Rachel. Oh man. He remembered, thinking about all the awkward moments they'd shared yesterday. He hadn't meant to get on Puck's case for messing with her – it had just kinda come out of his mouth in an angry huff before he could stop it, his fists clenching of their own volition. And he definitely hadn't meant to weird her out in the hallway by the bathroom, what with the whole hand-graze thing. It had been an accident, could have happened to anyone. Then again, not everyone would have flipped out like him and desperately changed the subject to avoid the awkwardness. Finn still wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that, it wasn't like he'd groped her or anything; and it wasn't like they'd never had physical contact before. Rachel hugged him and the other guys goodbye pretty frequently when she took off after rehearsals. There had just been something about how private that moment was, with her looking adorable in his old clothes staring up at him with those big brown eyes, that the stupid action had amplified itself.
Woah. Did I just call Rachel adorable? He wondered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and tightening his grip on the loose pillow he must have snagged during the night to try and force himself back to sleep so he wouldn't dwell on those kind of thoughts anymore…but when the pillow squirmed around in his arms as a response, his eyes shot open in alarm. That was no pillow. That was… "Rachel?" he whispered to himself in disbelief, finally coming to his senses to find his head buried in her silky hair and his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, her slender fingers resting over his, her body pressed up tightly against his. Oh boy…Don't turn around, don't turn around, PLEASE don't turn around. Finn mentally begged her, not knowing what he would say to her if she awoke to find herself snuggled in his arms. Thankfully, Rachel's breathing seemed to remain even and slow, meaning she was still asleep despite his jostling her.
Finn swallowed hard, feeling his heart start to hammer loudly in his chest and his brain throw itself into overload. Shit, shit, shit what do I do? He panicked, his palms starting to sweat. When the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? All he could remember from last night was passing out next to her, lazily watching her back as her side rose and fell silently with her steady breath, waiting until she was asleep before letting himself succumb to the same impulse…and now here he was, freaking spooning with her while they were sandwiched between Puck and Artie. Oh god, Rachel was going to end him when she woke up. She hadn't even wanted to stay overnight until they'd basically forced her to, and now he was feeling her up in her sleep? Man, he wouldn't blame her if she didn't even want to come back after something like this. Or if she never spoke to him again, that'd be a fair punishment too.
But, at the same time, he didn't want to let go. There were so many awesome things about Rachel that he'd come to realize in the past few weeks that he'd known her, he often found himself worrying in the middle of the night that he'd wake up one morning to find she'd been a dream. A very, verygood dream about a cool, sexy, smart, funny, outgoing girl that had all but dropped out of the sky and into his life. Hell, they'd lived in the same town all their lives and he'd never even seen her before she pulled up in his driveway. Granted, she'd gone to private school her whole life while Finn toiled away in the public school system, but you'd think that maybe just once they would've crossed paths at a restaurant or grocery store or something. But Finn knew that if he'd just seen her somewhere, he never would have gotten the courage to go and talk to her, so maybe things were better this way…even if he was starting to feel like he'd wasted his high school years with other girls.
On more than one occasion he'd caught himself playing the 'What If?' game as he started to drift off to sleep, trying to imagine McKinley with Rachel Berry in his graduating class. Would they have even been friends? From all the stories he'd heard from both Artie and her, she hadn't exactly had many friends; even in private school, kids had thought her intensity and drive had been more than intimidating and had steered clear. With the exception of Artie, his girlfriend (a girl named Tina that Finn and Puck had never met), and a few assorted others, Rachel hadn't had any friends. She claimed it didn't bother her, but Finn was pretty sure he was the only one that caught the wince she said it with; of course it bothered her. And it bothered him, a lot. High school hierarchy could be so stupid sometimes; it made you miss out on some of the most amazing people in your school. Ironic that someone from the top of the heap would think that, right? Well, until Rachel had stepped out of her black car and into their band, the thought had never crossed Finn's mind.
Long story short, Rachel's sudden appearance in his life was radically changing Finn's complacent state of mind. Off-hand comments she'd interject in the middle of conversations would leave him reeling for hours, and the stories she'd tell about what the terrifying varsity athletes from her school used to do to her made him want to hand in his letterman jacket. He'd started carrying his phone in his pocket at all times, in the off-hand chance she would text him with a question, or just to talk. She was, quite simply, the most intimidatingly stunning person Finn had met in a very long time.
And, to his horror as he lay awake panicking while he held her close, he realized how much he liked her as more than a friend. Fuck my life he cursed, glancing down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He knew there was no way someone like her could ever want anything but friendship from someone like him. She had everything a girl could want, and besides his old football clothes, Finn had nothing to offer her. Not yet anyways, not while they were just some dinky garage band with no future. Rachel deserved light years more than that. She deserved someone who could take care of her, spoil her and show her how special she was…all things he, with nothing but a shared crap apartment with Puck and some loose change in his pocket to his name, couldn't do.
Disgusted with himself, Finn quickly bolted out of bed, ripping himself from Rachel's embrace and sprinting into the house. He made his way back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, and slid down the door until he sank to the floor pathetically. "Fuck…"
Finn didn't hear from Rachel all week after that. When he'd managed to get his act together and return to the garage, he'd found Artie chucking the sheets and comforter into his car while Puck finished hauling the mattress to his truck – no Rachel in sight. The two boys had explained to him that as soon as he'd booked it out of the garage like a bat out of hell, Rachel had sat bolt upright in bed and watched him go. Crap…she'd been awake that whole time. Finn realized, feeling sick to his stomach. Ignoring how pale his friend had gotten, Puck continued to tell him how as soon as they'd heard the bedroom door slam, Rachel had silently pulled herself out of bed, grabbed her guitar and clothes, and left in a hurry without a word to either of them.
"Whatever you said or did, I hate you." Puck had growled, climbing into his truck. "Because now we have to do some serious ass-kissing to avoid losing ANOTHER guitarist. Thanks Finn, really. You're awesome." With that, Puck had floored it out of the driveway and down the street. Artie, choosing not to say anything at all, had simply gotten into his car and followed, leaving a shell shocked Finn alone in the driveway.
Artie had called three days later to let him know that he'd finally gotten through to Rachel, who had told him she wasn't quitting but couldn't make it to any rehearsals before their show. She'd cited some ridiculous story about catching a terrible cold from one of her dads and not wanting to get them sick, but it didn't take a genius to read the subtext on that one. People don't catch debilitating colds in the summer. She was avoiding him. And yes, he was sure it was just him. Because at every god damn rehearsal, both Artie and Puck seemed to have spoken at length with Rachel before getting there, while every text and call by Finn went unanswered. For Christ's sake, Puck had even sauntered into rehearsal the other day fucking talking to Rachel on the phone right in front of him! ON SPEAKERPHONE! Finn could hear her excited responses as Puck told her all about the agent they'd heard was coming to their show, and tried not to show his jealousy on his face as Rachel thanked Noah (oh yeah, she used the first name…fuck) for calling.
"Yeah yeah Berry, anytime…hey, I have you on speaker phone, say goodbye to Artie and Finn." he'd told her, holding the phone out further away from himself so the other two could talk.
"Bye Rachel!" Artie had called from the other side of the room as he shuffled sheets of music. A slightly-electronic but still quintessentially Rachel laugh spilled out of the phone.
"Bye Artie, I'll see you Sunday."
"…Feel better Rach. We miss you." Finn had offered weakly, biting his lip as he waited for a response. And wait he did. He watched as the call's timer ticked by slowly on the screen in front of him – it was a full six seconds before Rachel said anything.
"Thanks, Finn. I'll be much better by Sunday, promise." Call ended flashed on the screen. No acknowledgement of the nickname, no return of the 'I miss you'. Because yeah, let's be frank; Finn had said we miss you, but he was pretty sure even Artie and Puck knew he hadn't meant the plural form. It was probably that moment, standing stunned in the garage, feeling like he'd been sucker punched, that Finn realized how much he needed Rachel to function. Even if she was just his friend, he couldn't do this without her. He played like crap when she wasn't around to keep him in line, and said even less than usual without her there to encourage him to talk during band meetings. She'd quickly become his best friend, the only one who actually seemed to understand him. And he was going to make things up to her and get them back on track if it killed him.
Which is why, Sunday night after they'd played their set, Finn had made sure to get off stage before Rachel so he could steal her car keys out of her purse before she could get away from him again. Puck had jumped off stage to mingle with the audience a little bit, and Artie had followed so he could find his girlfriend in the crowd…which had left Finn with his window of opportunity to get Rachel alone for the first time in days. When she appeared in their 'dressing room' (which was really just the space behind the curtain, which had a table with a few chairs and a mirror), he was lounging in a chair with her car keys twirling around his pointer finger. She froze, one hand clutching the red velvet curtain as she watched him from across the space.
"Come on Rachel, please talk to me." He begged, sitting forward a little bit in his seat. "I'm not giving these back until we work out whatever is bugging you."
Rachel shrugged, obviously putting whatever minimal acting skills she had to use as she mumbled "Nothing's wrong, I'm fine." Finn groaned, crossing his arms across his chest, her keys expertly hidden in his elbow. Well, this was going spectacularly.
"Rachel…"
"I'm mean it, everything is okay."
"Rach…"
"Finn, seriously, it's alright. Just drop it."
"You're lying." He accused, triumphantly watching her eyebrows rise in shock for a second before she collected herself again. "Rachel, I know you better than you think, I can tell when you're lying. Which is how I knew you weren't sick all week." Her eyes widened, and Finn could see a faint blush rising to her cheeks through her makeup. She immediately started biting her lip and cast her eyes to the floor. "Rach, come on, you texted me all night three weeks ago when you got a bruise from banging your elbow on Puck's car door. You really expected me to believe you wouldn't talk to me if you were sick?" He didn't get a response, just more silent shuffling of Rachel's feet as she stared intently at the linoleum floors.
Finn got out of his chair, crossing the space to her in a mere three strides thanks to his long legs, and used the hand not holding her keys to tilt her chin upwards. "Look, I don't care why you did it…I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again. You're like, the best part of this group these days Rach, not to mention my best friend, and it killed me thinking it was my fault you were staying so far away." He admitted, desperately keeping his eyes on hers instead of letting them slip to her lips. Neither of them said anything for a minute.
"…I…I'm your best friend?" Rachel choked out, a small smile coming to her lips. Finn rolled his eyes, not wasting any time to pull her into a crushing hug, smiling as he felt her arms wrap around his waist as best they could (she was small, so they didn't quite reach). All the stress he'd been under all week, all the wondering and the worrying about their relationship melted right off him. He felt, standing there holding Rachel close, like at least fifty pounds had dropped off his body.
"Yeah, course you are Rach. God, you don't even get it, do you? You're…well, I mean, you're really special to me. And I -"
"DUDES!" Puck interrupted, causing Rachel and Finn to spring apart immediately, flustered and mortified. Puck was strolling into the room, followed by Artie who was holding hands with a small Asian girl (Tina, they hoped), and an older man with curly dirty blond hair. Finn was sputtering awkwardly, his hands stuffed back into his pockets where they usually were when he got nervous, while Rachel stared at the newcomers like a deer stuck in headlights. Puck glanced quickly between the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face, before appearing to abandon the thought and slapping a hand onto the shoulder of the older man. "Guys, this is Will Schuester, he's an agent….and he wants to sign us!"
"Hi Mr. Schuester, I'm Rachel." She introduced, immediately holding out her hand for him to shake.
"Very nice to meet you, Rachel. You're an extremely talented young woman." He told her, shaking her hand with a smile before holding his out to the shell shocked Finn, who took one second too long to respond. That earned him a sharp jab to the side from Rachel, prompting him to awkwardly produce his hand to be shaken.
"That's Finn. He's not good with words when he's excited." Rachel covered for him, thankfully. Mr. Schuester just nodded, sizing Finn up once before turning back to her.
"That's okay, I find most drummers I work with to be the strong and silent types." That got a laugh from the group, making Finn blush a little bit. He really didn't have a way with words…at all. Especially not when it came to speaking to strangers. That's why Puck always wrote the lyrics, even back when it'd just been the two of them in high school.
"Well, why don't we all sit down and talk about this?" Rachel offered, gesturing to the small table Finn had just been sitting at. She shot Finn a small smile, bumping him lightly with her hip as she made her way past him to sit down, and an ear-to-ear grin broke out across his face. So maybe they hadn't exactly talked about their little moment in the garage, but at least Rachel seemed willing to let it go and be friends again. If she wasn't going to let it bother her, why should he, right? It was nothing, they were past it, right? Right? Besides, they were getting signed by an agent! Or at least an offer from one.
Finn took the chair in-between Rachel and Puck, the four members of the band sitting across from Mr. Schuester with Tina leaning against the wall nearby. Puck, the apparently self-nominated band spokesperson, kicked back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "So, Mr. Schue…Can I call you Mr. Schue?" he asked, and seeing the man pause for a moment before nodding reluctantly, continued with a wicked grin. "What kind of deal are we talking here? Instant fame and fortune, right?"
"That's the idea, yeah." Mr. Schuester answered, folding his hands together on the table. Woah, well that got Finn's attention. All four members of the group seemed to lean forward in their seats, their eyes slightly wide. "I'd like you guys to cut a demo, just really quick, you could even do it in your garage. I just need something to send to the record companies…and when they pick you up, which I know they will, we'll be on our way."
"How're you so sure?" Artie asked, which bought him a swift kick to the shin from Puck. "Oww…" he hissed angrily, immediately folding his arms across his chest and slamming back into his chair. Mr. Schuester just laughed at their antics, obviously collecting his thoughts before he spoke.
"Because there's something special and unique in all of you, and in this group as a whole, that the music industry can't afford to ignore." He stated, and seeing their blank faces shook his head. "Let me elaborate. Artie," he turned to the sulking teenager "you've got so much energy when you play, so much joy in every chord, that you bring your band together in a way no one else can. You keep them together." Artie smiled, shrugging in embarrassment. Mr. Schuester turned to Puck, working his way down the line. "And you…maybe your persona for dealing with fans needs some work, you're pretty crude and in general kind of intolerable for any longer than five minutes-" a peel of laughter from the rest of the band stopped his speech momentarily, but once they all got themselves under control he continued. "But seriously, Puck, you've got so much soul and commitment in your singing and so much to say in your lyrics… I think you deserve recognition for it."
Mr. Schuester looked at Finn, who couldn't help but smile awkwardly as he waited for his praise. "Finn, you drive this band. You keep everyone on task and push them musically to keep up with you. And I think you could really contribute if you'd speak up more…being strong and silent doesn't always pay off." He cautioned, before turning to Rachel. Finn cocked his head to one side in confusion, slightly put off that he'd been the only one besides the lecherous Puck to receive criticism (and even then Puck's had been about women and his language, not anything concerning the band), but decided not to voice it and ruin Rachel's moment. "Rachel…I don't think I've ever seen raw talent like yours. You brought the house down with your solos, and you have so much fire that it knocks people out of their seats…and together, I think the four of you have real star potential."
"I have a question." Rachel asked, her game face in place. Oh god, she wasn't even going to thank the man for his compliments? Finn could hear Artie groan and Puck grumble under his breath. He knew they were worried she was going to run her mouth, launching into some speech about how she'd been dreaming about stardom her whole life and that she had this specific plan of how she was going to get there; in essence, a diva-freak out, which she'd been known to have. And as much as it made him sound like a horrible person, Finn was a little worried too. Rachel was an acquired taste, he'd discovered, and she often came on far too strong and scared people off. And if the next person she scared off was this agent…well, they were in trouble.
Rachel's face slowly dissolved into a smile though, and she glanced at the boys briefly before leaning forward towards Mr. Schuester. "Where do we sign?"
