A/N: Okay, I have to say I was really…disappointed…with last night's episode of Glee. And that's the *first* time I've ever said that. I just felt awful watching it. I've enjoyed some episodes more than others, but honestly, two thumbs down all around last night. I mean, yeah, Finn's dumb but seriously, Grilled Cheesus? And the interaction with Rachel was just horrible. I couldn't even enjoy the sudden and mysterious appearance of the "Finn" necklace (whose origins they should probably mention). And I'm supposed to believe that the girl who gave an impassioned 'we all want it' speech to the celibacy club, and almost gave it up to Jesse St. James after a few weeks of dating doesn't want to have sex until she's 25? And that this same girl has been dating the man of her dreams for months now and hasn't let him round second base? Whatever, Glee. Whatever.

Sorry, I digress from my own story.

In this chapter, I hope you will find slightly more pleasing Finchel interactions than what we say yesterday. Rated T for some um, interacting. Oh, and hello Puck!

As always, please review if you wouldn't mind. Your comments fuel my need to write.

And I own nothing. Not my house, not my car, and certainly not Glee (if I owned Glee I would have paid cash for the house and car).

Enjoy!

Rachel had endured the sputtering ministrations of 'Doc' Figgins for as long as she could possibly stand before having Santana toss the odd man out of her room. Her belief in the man's credentials was waning by the moment as he fumbled through a basic examination.

"Alright, Figgs," Santana sneered, "You've been leering at Princess here for long enough. Don't you think it's about time you pronounced her alive and well and were on your way?"

Rachel shot Santana what she hoped was a fervently grateful look as the intimidating beauty herded the doctor into the hallway.

"Miss Berry needs to rest and drink plenty of fluids to keep her strength up," the man peered around Santana's shoulder even as she pushed him out, "if she swoons again…"

"If she swoons again," Santana snarked, "we'll just loosen her corset. Like. We. Did. Tonight."

"Um…you, that is to say that you personally…ah…unlaced her…" Figgins' voice trailed off and his eyes glazed over.

Rachel could barely contain her giggles when Santana went all 'seductress' on the man, "Oh yeah Figgs," she cooed, "we girls undress each other every night. All of us. We had to get Rachel out of her corset really quick tonight though…usually we go sooooo slow. Ooooh, and then?"

Santana smirked as she slammed the door in the man's face and pivoted, rolling her eyes. "Men, they are all the same. Thinking with their pants. Did you see his face? He was two seconds away from asking to join in. What ever happened to professionalism?"

"Not all men think that way, Santana," Rachel said quietly, thinking again of the charming Mr. Hudson.

"Oh, honey," Santana smiled softly and it changed her whole demeanor, "You really are innocent, aren't you?"

"I travelled across this country, by myself. My family…my family was gone. I had no one, and no money. I've had to work every step of the way, and I've fought off more than my fair share of ungentlemanly types. I wouldn't exactly call myself innocent," Rachel finished with a huff.

"B-bu-but have you ever really been with a man?" Tina inquired gently. "Do you really know what they want and how they think?"

"I refuse to believe that every man out there is only interested in," she lowered her voice, "fornication."

"What do men have to do with making the forts stronger?" Brittany asked in confusion.

Santana looked at her for a moment, stunned, "Fornication, Britt, not fortification." She looked at Brittany and rolled her eyes, "Sex, Britt. Sex."

Rachel fought the urge to gasp at the blunt language. She supposed it was silly that she held onto her sensibilities given her living situation. Her best friends were women of the 'oldest profession,' and the closet she came to a mother figure was their madam.

Bringing her mind back to the matter at hand, Rachel frowned, "No, I've never had occasion to inquire of a man what he was thinking. Sadly after my family…well, no man was willing to offer for me. It was part of why I left New York," these women had no need to know of her sad situation at home. Why make them feel sorry for her?

"Let me spell it out for you Princess," Santana was brash but not unkind, "All men, think of sex. Even your gallant Finny-boy has sampled our wares."

Rachel's eyes darted to Santana's and she saw the truth there, "I'm disappointed to hear that."

Santana shrugged, "He's a man. He's not exactly young. I'd think you would be more surprised if he had never been with a woman."

Shaking her head at her own naïveté Rachel sighed, "I just don't understand why men feel the need to…without love, I mean, isn't it…" Rachel trailed off, not knowing precisely what she was asking.

"Meaningless?" Tina interjected.

"Fun," Brittany giggled, "Well, mostly fun."

"Physical," corrected Santana, "It can be fun, but it is entirely about the physical release. Look, Rachel," and Rachel paid rapt attention at the rare use of her given name, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy my work to some extent, but Tina's right. Sex without love, while, satisfying in a purely physical way, isn't fulfilling. Not like it is when the guy is…" her voice trailed off.

"S-special," Tina filled in.

"Exactly," Santana clarified. "If he's not special. I'm not saying I'm all about flowers and diamonds. Well," she paused, "maybe diamonds. But if you've managed to make it this far west with your virtue in-tact, you might as well hold onto it until you find the right guy."

"Until I'm married," Rachel nodded, agreeing.

"I wouldn't go that far, Princess," Santana's smirk was back, and Rachel knew the heavy moment was past.

"Mr. Hudson seemed special," Rachel's voice was almost a whisper.

"I knew it!" Santana exclaimed gleefully.

"You knew what, exactly?" Rachel countered.

"I knew the sparks he was throwing off when I walked in here couldn't be just one-sided. Finny's a romantic, but he's not delusional."

"Sparks?" a blush crept up Rachel's face at the thought of Mr. Hudson being in her room.

"He brought you in here when you fainted," Tina explained.

"When I walked in, you were still out of it and Finn, he was staring at you like you were made of gold, or chocolate or something. Like he wanted to devour you," Santana's eyes glowed with devilish merriment, "He wants you Princess. I was teasing him about it and he got all flustered. Kind of like you are now."

"Mr. Hudson," Rachel swallowed against her suddenly dry throat, "wants me?"

"I th-think it's romantic," Tina sighed, leaning against the bedpost, "he rescued you and now you will fall in love."

"He probably thinks me feeble," Rachel moaned, "I practically swooned in his arms."

"He thinks you're desirable," Brittany deadpanned, with her trademark random insightfulness.

Rachel nodded thoughtfully, turning to Santana, "Tell me everything you know about Finn Hudson."

Santana's smirk almost had her reconsidering her request, "How detailed do you want me to be?"


Santana had been right about one thing, Rachel mused to herself, Finn Hudson truly was an idiot.

She had waited, patiently, for almost three weeks, and Finn had not returned to the saloon. Here she was, pining for him, writing new songs about unrequited desire, and did he have the courtesy to come hear her sing?

No, she huffed. He 'discretely inquired' about her well-being with Doc Figgins. This, according to Emma, who had heard it from Will, whom Doc Figgins had babbled at while dulled by too much drink.

Coward, Rachel snorted, startling her horse. Rachel felt most unladylike, seated as she was on the animal's back, but riding side-saddle for the length of time it required to get to Finn Hudson's ranch would not be a comfortable proposition.

She soothed the skittish mare, and reached behind her to make sure the items she had packed were still there. They were, thank goodness.

Reaching a high iron archway, Rachel looked up at the metal 'H' laying on its side. The Lazy H Ranch, Rachel smiled. She had finished her journey.

Riding up a well-worn dirt path, Rachel looked out across the tended fields on either side. Grazing in those fields were cow after cow, many with tiny calves moving amongst their hooves.

Of all the adjectives Santana had used to describe Finn Hudson (and several of them had her blushing), cowardice had not been amongst them. But Rachel thought Finn might be hiding from her.

Unless, she thought with a sudden flash of panic, Finn really wasn't interested in her. Maybe he was just being polite! Maybe he felt nothing but the kind amount of concern any good man would show for a fellow human being. Maybe Santana had misinterpreted Finn's gaze. After all, the woman's mind was always seemingly focused on…

Oh my.

Rachel's thoughts abandoned her as she approached what she assumed was the main living quarters. Off to one side was a large fenced-in pen.

And, working on the fence were two men.

Two shirtless, tan, muscular men.

Her mouth went dry at the sight. Each wore work trousers, boots, a low, wide-brimmed hat and a bandana around their neck. And nothing else.

They hadn't noticed her yet, these half-naked men. She stared, open-mouthed as their muscles, lightly shining with the evidence of exertion, rippled under their skin. One was very tall, she noticed, while the other was of average height.

She hadn't seen, well, any other men in such a state of undress before, but she had to imagine from the visceral reaction she was having that they were above-average specimens.

The shorter one suddenly looked up at her, and she snapped her mouth shut, trying to subtly turn sideways in the saddle and look like the lady she was supposed to be.

She saw him nudge the taller man and say something to him.

The taller man's head snapped up, and Rachel smothered a gasp as she found herself looking across the distance into the eyes of one Finn Hudson.

Well, she thought, unconsciously licking her lips, this is an interesting development.


Finn could see the blush staining Rachel's cheeks from 50 feet away.

"Shit," he muttered, realizing his state of undress.

"Puck, we're embarrassing her," Finn said quietly, "put something on man."

Finn's foreman looked at him as though he was crazy, "It is too damn hot to be wearing a shirt, Finn. Plus, she showed up here uninvited. Why the hell should I accommodate her?"

"Because I'm asking you to," Finn growled, "and I'm the boss."

Puck chewed thoughtfully on a piece of straw, "Then I guess the more interesting question would be, why are you asking me too?"

With a sigh, Finn admitted, "You know the girl I told you about? The one at Schue's?"

"The one I've been harassing you about endlessly because you weren't man enough to go back into town and face her? This is that girl?"

"Yeah."

"Aw, hell," Puck muttered and reached for the shirt that was hanging on a nearby post. Finn caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and reached for his own shirt.

Wiping his bandana across his sweaty face, Finn hoped he didn't smell too bad as he walked briskly towards the young woman.

"Ms. Berry?" he called out as he came closer, "Hold on and let me help you down," he frowned as she continued to wiggle around in the saddle. He was surprised her horse hadn't thrown her by now.

"Oh, Mr. Hudson, there's no need to…" her voice trailed off as she realized he had reached her side.

The horse was good-sized, and she sat a full foot taller than him on the animal's back, putting his gaze at a very interesting height. This close up he could smell a touch of vanilla and something that had to be just Rachel. It was making his head swim.

"May I help you down, ma'am?" he heard his own voice and it sounded somehow deeper than usual.

For a moment she just stared at him, seemingly transfixed by something on his cheek.

"Ms. Berry?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Hudson. I'd be delighted to have your help."

Finn nodded and reached up to grasp her around the waist. He marveled at how tiny she seemed. His hands practically spanned the entirety of her small body. The contact was electric, and he felt it all the way to the depths of his soul.

Huh.

So he hadn't imagined it.

Obviously indulging previously unknown masochistic tendencies, Finn lifted the tiny brunette and allowed her body to slide slowly down the length of his own until her feet touched the ground.

He felt her shiver and didn't know whether it was desire or revulsion. Probably the latter, given how his shirt was already soaked with sweat. After he was sure she was steadily on the ground, he stepped back to be sure their bodies no longer touched.

"So," he tilted back the brim of his hat so he could look into her eyes, "What brings you all the way out to the Lazy H, Ms. Berry?"


Rachel found it difficult to form a coherent thought. She was still stunned by the bold contact he had initiated between their bodies.

She knew that she should have been insulted and indignant that he took such liberties. But he felt so good, and smelled like sunshine and something indefinably delicious. Plus she was still stunned from seeing what he kept hidden beneath his shirt.

"Ms. Berry?" he inquired again.

"Yes, Mr. Hudson," Rachel shook her head to clear the mental fog. "I, um, well, I was never able to give you a proper thank-you," she saw his eyes darken and suppressed another shiver, "for rescuing me at the saloon."

She gave him her best smile, "Since you seemed unwilling to come to me, I came to you."

"You rode all this way to say thank you?" Finn sounded unconvinced.

"Yes," she met his gaze unblinking, "Why else would I come all this way?"

His mouth crooked up on one side into the most adorable smile, "I'm sure I have no idea ma'am."

"Please, call me Rachel," she breathed.

"Are you sure?" Finn's brow furrowed slightly, "It seems a bit…familiar."

"We are friends, aren't we Mr. Hudson? All of my friends call me Rachel."

He smiled again and started to answer but was interrupted by the other man, "You can call me Puck, Ms. Berry."

She looked up into another handsome face. My, if the women back east knew how attractive the men were here in Montana, the cities would empty out.

"Puck?" what an odd name for a gorgeous man.

"Noah Puckerman, ma'am, Finn's foreman. I go by Puck though," he flashed her a beautiful smile and took her hand.

She felt a blush raise to her cheeks as full lips laid a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Noah," Rachel demurred, flattered by the attention, "Please call me Rachel."

"Puck," she was startled to hear Finn growl, "why don't you take Rachel's horse to the barn for her?"

With a quiet chuckle, Puck released his hold on her hand reluctantly and gave her another charming smile, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rachel."

"Oh, wait, Noah," Rachel felt Finn stiffen next to her and wondered at the strange undercurrent she suddenly sensed.

"Yes, Rachel?" his hazel eyes were teasing, and she had no idea what was going on between the two men.

"Could you please get me the bundle tied to the back of my saddle before you take the horse?" no sense in heading back to the barn later, she figured.

Pulling the bundle efficiently from the animal's back, he grunted slightly, "What are you carrying here, stones?"

She laughed, and both men stared at her intently causing a blush to rise again, "That's a surprise," she attempted to take the bag from Puck but Finn practically snatched the bundle from her hands.

"Allow me," he mumbled, casting a last baleful glare at Puck as he led her to the house.


What the hell, Puckerman? Finn's thoughts were indignant. Sure, he and Puck typically had a friendly rivalry over women, but Puck should have just known this was different.

When else had Finn ever mentioned a woman beyond the sordid details?

Finn was pulled from his brooding thoughts when he noticed Rachel struggling to keep up with him.

Deliberately slowing his pace, he heard her sigh in relief.

"Ms…Rachel," he corrected himself, "I'm sorry, I'm used to walking the ranch by myself. And I usually have somewhere to be."

"Oh," she exclaimed as they reached the front porch of his home, "Am I keeping you from your work?"

"No! I mean, yes. I mean," Finn inhaled deeply, "there is always something to be done on a working ranch, but I sure don't mind taking time off to spend the evening with a beautiful woman."

He saw the smile cross her face, and she shyly met his gaze. Compliment accepted.

"Good," she breathed the word softly, "I thought that you and Noah…"

He cut her off angrily, "I don't want to talk about Puck."

Rage flooded his veins once more when he thought about how Puck had acted around Rachel. Like he was a slavering mutt, and she was a choice cut of beef. The hair had stood up on the back of Finn's neck as he watched his foreman so easily charm the beautiful young woman.

He dropped the package he was carrying unceremoniously onto the table by the front door.

Were her attentions so easily turned? He felt…jealous. Possessive. Possibly a little insane, which was the only reasonable explanation for what he did next.

He spun abruptly towards Rachel and she backed, startled, against the wall. He sidled closer, bracing an arm on either side of her head so he could lean his weight closer to her lush body. Being this close to her was a dangerous game. He could detect her scent again, and it continued to elude him. Why did she smell so delicious?

He felt her sudden exhale caress his neck, near where his collar opened. The soft puff of air chilled his skin and warmed other parts of him with a vengeance.

"What," she licked her lips, and as he watched the motion intently, he saw her pupils dilate. So she felt it too, this almost irresistible pull between them that was robbing him of sanity. "What did you want to talk about?"

Her eyelashes fluttered as she raised her gaze to his. He saw fear there, yes, but overlaying the fear was passion. Deep, untapped, desire. And it was all for him.

This is why he had tried so hard to stay away from her. She made him feel irrational.

"I don't want to talk at all," he murmured, brushing a stray tendril of silky hair behind her ear.

He saw her mouth moving slightly, as though she was trying to formulate a response to what he said, but no sound emerged.

Her eyes drifted closed as he leant closer, closer, until her features blurred and their lips met in the barest touch of a kiss.

Fire.

Kissing her was like being on fire. The sweetest burn he had ever felt, Finn mused, as he gently brushed his lips back and forth across hers. He knew this was wrong; knew he was taking liberties. Knew she should slap him and call him ten kinds of a bastard.

But she didn't.

Oh, no. Instead she clung to him limply while her obviously untried lips desperately stroked his.

A soft moan spilled forth from those lips, and Finn used the movement to his advantage, darting his tongue inside her mouth to taste her essence.

She tasted like strawberries, he mused, as her inexperienced mouth quickly brought his arousal to fever pitch.

He deepened the kiss further, his tongue plunging, his teeth nipping at the fullness of her bottom lip. He happily swallowed every sigh and whimper that escaped her intriguing mouth and went back for more again and again.

Never had something as simple as a kiss brought him to this point of senselessness before.

Unable to fight the impulse, Finn ground his hips against hers, letting her feel how much he desired her. His body was acting of its own volition by this point; his mind was just along for the ride. He gave no thought to her innocence, to the inappropriate timing, or to the thought that he had her backed against a wall in his home.

A deep rumble worked its way up through his chest. Even he had no idea he was capable of making a sound like that.


Rachel thought she might melt into a puddle.

She was having quite the day, going from a woman who had never really been kissed, to being kissed thoroughly, to being practically ravished against a wall in Finn's home.

He was all around her, his arms, his lips and tongue, she was drowning in the feel and scent of Finn Hudson.

Not a bad way to go.

Feeling his hips push against hers, Rachel suppressed a startled squeak. That was definitely another first. And she supposed Santana had been right in her assessment that Finn wanted her.

Thankful now for suffering through her friends' bawdy descriptions of what to expect, she was at least not startled by his move, although she would be lying to say that they adequately described the sensation.

Nothing could adequately describe the way this felt.

She gave into her urge to feel the muscles he had displayed earlier and curled her fingers in the coarse cotton of his damp workshirt. Skirting her fingers delicately up his back, she felt him shudder beneath her touch.

She slid her hands up into the soft hair at the nape of his neck and knocked the hat from his head. Scratching lightly at his scalp, Rachel felt her body heating as he moaned against her lips and pushed his hips more insistently against hers.

She felt her own body softening, and it was a wicked sensation. Feeling wanton, she swirled her own hips against his, wanting to return some of the pleasure he was giving her.

With a groan that sounded wrenched from the depths of his soul, Finn pulled away.

Both panting, they faced each other in the sunlit entry way.

Rachel blushed as she gulped down huge breaths. Was she good at kissing? She had no idea why he had stopped, or if she had pleased him. Why would he stop when he seemed to be enjoying it?

Staring at her hands, which she was nervously wringing in front of her hips, she quietly asked him, "Why did you stop?"

A/N: So there you have it. Finchel's first kiss. Thoughts? I'm already working on the next chapter for you. And a warning: this fic may end up being kind of long. I'm really enjoying the dynamic between this version of my favorite duo. Question for you…would you like me to keep it "T" rated? Or would you like an optional "M" chapter thrown in there?

Reviews make me write faster. Seriously. :P