Sorry this took a while! My annoying life got in the way. I hope you guys find this chapter fun! I liked writing it, anyway. I prefer it so much to studying endless French grammar.
"Am I allowed to be in here? I was under the impression it was boys only. I find that rule incredibly unfair, though," babbled Rachel.
Mr. Schue smiled. "Don't worry, Rachel. I got you a permission form from Coach Beiste, so there's no problem. We can train in here every time you have a free last period so you have some down time before patrolling." He held a long pole in front of him. "I'm going to attack you with a pole."
She raised an eyebrow. "A pole? I think the demon folk prefer claws and fangs."
"They lay their hands on whatever they can get. You need to be prepared for all modes of attack."
"I find your lessons random and unconnected."
"Would you argue that fighting isn't?"
Rachel nodded in assent. "Okay. This will ultimately be helpful."
"Good. Just so you know, I'm very skilled at fighting with a pole." He gave her a second's rest, and then swung the pole under her, meaning to knock her off her feet. She jumped quickly to avoid it, and grabbed the pole after she landed. She jerked it upward so his grip slid off, then pushed him to the ground. She placed one foot behind the other and leaned slightly on the pole, checking her nails in put-upon indifference. Mr. Schue smiled. "Good work. It's nice to know that you're comfortable enough around me to kick my ass."
"I don't play it any other way. And you've told me the stories, Mr. Schue. You were quite the fighter in your day." She grabbed his hand and hauled him up.
"Nowhere near Slayer good, though. Ready for target practice?"
"Now, that, I definitely need help on."
He took the pole and leaned it against the lockers. "So I'm not completely useless."
. : .
"Where is Mr. Schue? I do not have time to wait around for his lazy ass all day," complained Santana.
"Because your other extracurricular is so important to society," said Kurt listlessly.
Before Santana could jump out of her seat to tackle Kurt, Mr. Schue hurried in with apologies. "Sorry, guys. I was going over choreography with Rachel. She won't be behind anymore."
"Wow, Schue. You're spending a lot of time with the new recruit," said Santana.
He turned to face her sternly. "Completely inappropriate, Santana."
"Come on. Like you all weren't thinking it."
Finn frowned. "No, we weren't. You just like to tear people down."
"Exactly," said Kurt. "And on a list of people most likely to be caught in the act with a teacher—"
"Guys! We don't need all this unnecessary bitterness!" snapped Mr. Schue. "Cool it. We're a team. Now, keep it civil while I get some sheet music." He went into his office.
Rachel chose that moment to jog into the room. "Sorry for my tardiness, fellow glee clubbers! A future star is normally prompt in any and all appearances." The rest of the club stared at her. "I really didn't think it would be that much of an issue. Are you offended by my casual dress? I'm just going to stop talking." She sat down in the first row, folded her hands on her lap, and leaned forward to engage herself in the lesson (and forget her fresh embarrassment).
"Damn, girl. It took you forever to shut up," said Mercedes with a chuckle.
"For real. Do you have an off switch?" asked Brittany. Rachel blushed, but she wasn't exactly able to tell if Brittany was kidding or not.
"Guys, come on," said Finn. "She's one of us. Don't rag on her." She shot him a glowing look.
"Finn, we ain't hating. I bet all us guys were appreciating the view from those shorts," complimented Artie.
"Why are you always such a misogynist?" demanded Quinn.
"He's kinda right, babe," said Puck appreciatively. Quinn gasped and smacked the back of his head.
"Guys! Could you not? Focus on your own drama!" barked Finn. He was happy to be rewarded with another look of admiration from Rachel before Kurt got her into a conversation about doing a GaGa tribute on Broadway.
He felt pretty skeevy thinking it, but Rachel did look hot in her workout clothes. He grew up with just a mom, so he obviously learned to respect women and all that jazz; his friends (especially Puck and Artie) weren't so much in the same boat. He could deal with their normal locker-room talk, but Rachel was different. He wanted to appraise her hot metallic pink short shorts and pink poodle t-shirt, but he wanted the other guys to back the hell off. If she wanted to date anybody, he was sure it would have to be a good guy who grew up in a woman-respecting house, and was, like, really tall to offset her shortness. He should be the only one allowed to stare at how her shorts were like a second skin and holy shit her skin looked so smooth and he needed to touch her or he would… He wasn't sure. He just really, really wanted to be alone with her again.
He quickly got himself in check when Mr. Schue walked in. "I want to try something new today. I know you guys like pop songs best, but how about we try some classic rock?" Finn perked up. That was his favorite genre. "We're gonna do 'Don't Stop Believin'' by Journey. I arranged it so it can be a duet. Finn, think you can handle the guy's part?" Finn popped out of his seat and grabbed the music Mr. Schue was holding out for him.
"I guess I'll do the other part, but I'm not the biggest fan of Journey," declared Quinn.
Mercedes scoffed. "Girl, that solo should go to me. I work harder than all y'all."
"Stuff it, Wheezy. I'm perfect to offset Finn's total lack of game," said Santana.
"How about we do something unconventional? I'll sing it. You know I can hit the high notes," goaded Kurt.
"I'm more talented than all of you," offered Brittany.
"Girls, Kurt, calm down. I'm giving the solo to Rachel." The girl in question rolled her shoulders back and smiled widely. "She needs to practice putting herself out there." Santana opened her mouth to say something nasty. "I won't hear a word against it—everyone deserves a chance, like I've given to all of you. You'll learn the harmonies with glowing happiness while Finn and Rachel work on some rough choreography. You'll basically just walk around each other for now," he directed at them.
"Cool," Finn said. He grabbed Rachel's hand (her cheeks pinkened) and he took her to the hallway to work.
Rachel scrunched her nose. "Is it like that every time there's a solo?"
"Pretty much, but the guys can be worse if it's a really ballin' song. I think I'm the only one who's mega-into Journey," explained Finn. "You didn't get into the fight that much."
"I guess I only like to fight for the consequential parts of life," she said with a melancholy look on her face.
"Hey, what's wrong? You got the solo for, like, the best song ever."
Rachel smiled at Finn's sweetness. "It's great. I'm happy. I haven't had so much time for this stuff in the past year because of… things. I missed performing a lot." She wouldn't unload her troubles on him; he was much too wonderful to be dragged down by her problems.
"Things?"
He was awfully persistent. She decided to give him a part of the truth, like she always had to do; she knew it would be worse to leave him completely in the dark about her abrupt mood swings. "I had to grow up a lot last year. Especially in the last few months, with dad and other people dying and all that. It was a big… thing." He still hadn't let go of her hand. She wouldn't admit to herself how much it comforted her.
"I know it's, like, really raw right now, but you'll tell me someday, right? I know I haven't know you long, but…" he squeezed, "I, like, want to be that guy you confide in." Her head snapped up suddenly. "I knew it. Too much. I just shouldn't ever tell girls what I'm thinking." He started to pull his hand out of hers.
She gripped his hand harder and put her other one around his neck. "No, you's perfect. Amazing. So human." Before he could wonder what that meant, she drew him down to kiss her, their lips having already gotten used to each other last night. His other arm circled her waist, and he dropped his head a little more to kiss her harder. He parted her lips with his tongue, desperately wanted to get a little more of her, and he tasted oranges, and god she was pressing so close to him—
"Finchel, Mr. Schue says stop making out and start dancing," said Kurt dully before slamming the choir room door.
Rachel jumped away from Finn with her hand over her mouth, giggling like a maniac. "I guess we should work. I have so many ideas! How extensive is your jazz dance background?"
He stared at her blankly.
"I guess I'll just have to guide you," she sighed. "Let's make sure your hips are good and loose."
He smiled slyly. "I think I need a lot of help with that."
She blushed. It was weird not to be the first to admit feelings in a relationship. With Jesse, she had screamed and cried how much she needed and loved him, while he kept insisting that he was completely wrong for her. It was all part of his game, though; he never even cared for her a little bit. He just wanted to eliminate the threat.
As she held onto Finn's waist, seeing blood rush to his cheeks as well, she knew this was different. He cared for her, wanted her, chased her. It was fast, she knew, but since she had a destiny that would probably kill her before she turned 20, she had to throw herself into life. As long as the relationship she was throwing herself into did not involve a vampire; she had to be careful about that.
. : .
Two hours later, Mr. Schue had deemed everyone's efforts a good start, but they all needed to practice and get it perfect. "I don't even want it off by one thirty-second note," he said as he dismissed them.
"We'll stay behind and rehearse a bit more," said Finn.
"Good. Practice that high B; I know you have it in you," Mr. Schue said as he buttoned up his coat and left.
"Finn," Rachel said with a playful lilt to her voice as she played out a random melody on the piano. "I doubt your intentions are highly honorable at the moment."
"I'm not sure what you mean, but your shorts are, like, taunting me."
She walked to him laughing and laid her head on his chest. "I'm so embarrassed! The girls must think I'm such attention-seeking harlot."
He wrapped his arms around her. "Doesn't really matter. Cheerios are worse. I think you were getting more attention from the guys." Rachel gaped in horror. "Everyone knows you're my girl, now, so they'll totally back off."
She looked up at him. "Your girl?"
His mouth turned up in a grin and he shrugged. "I like you a lot, Rachel. I feel, like, good and even a little smart when we talk. You ask me about stuff I like, want to get my opinion and everything. I'm going for it with you."
She blinked back the wetness collecting in her eyes and closed her fists on the front of his shirt. "You have no idea how much I'm falling for you right now."
"Think I do." He leaned down to kiss her again, and they were both responding fantastically before she heard footsteps.
She was pretty sure everyone was gone, so she opened one eye to get a glimpse of the straggler. She saw the telltale face bumps (luckily he had yet to see them through the choir room door window) and instinct took over. She pushed Finn to the ground and cushioned his head with her hand. She held him down while the vampire approached. She heard him pause in front of the door, then continue down the hallway. She let out a breath of relief. She did not want Finn to witness her in full-on Slayer-mode yet.
"Mrmpfh," said Finn from under her. It was only then that her chest had landed pretty much on top of his face when she'd floored him. She placed her hands on either side of him and raised herself up so he could breathe again. "What happened?"
"I, um, I… thought I saw something." She craned her neck upwards to see out the window, in case there were any more vampires and demons roaming the halls. When she looked back down, Finn's eyes were fixed on her breasts. She bit her lip to hold back her burgeoning smile—it was so nice to be with a boy who didn't make her scream for his attention. "Enjoying the view?"
He blinked and looked back at her face. "The pink poodle's really working for you." He was relieved she wasn't hitting him for perving on her. In fact, she seemed to like it.
She almost leaned down to kiss him. Almost. Her duty came first. "I swear I'll be right back. Please stay here." She touched her lips lightly to his (she couldn't completely resist) and jumped off of him before she could get too caught up.
Now, Finn had a problem. Her lying on top of him had left him a little too excited. He had two choices: relieve the tension himself, or try to get rid of it with his brainpower. He chose the latter, because Rachel could walk back in at any second, but he still wasn't so sure about the strength of his brainpower. He concentrated on the opposite of what he was just doing with Rachel in her super tight clothes and breathed deeply.
Rachel, on the other hand, had no stake but still had to kill the damn vampire. As she walked determinedly down the hall, she heard a terrified squeal. Not again. She picked up her pace in the direction of the terror until she finds the vamp sinking his teeth into poor, sweet, ignorant Brittany.
He'd hit a nerve.
She may have only been in glee club for a couple of days, but she could not tolerate anyone messing with her fellow music-lovers. She pulled him off of Brittany, who fell to the ground clutching her neck. Before he could even try to fight, she punched him squarely in the nose, and then roundhouse kicked the side of his head. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. "Brittany," said Rachel with authority. "Go home and get yourself patched up. You're going to be okay."
Brittany sat still, completely terrified. "He was… so strong. I couldn't…"
Rachel knelt in front of her and placed her hands on Brittany's shoulders. "I'm about to get rid of him forever. He's evil, and he won't get to you again. Okay?"
Brittany nodded. "Thanks, Rachel." Suddenly, she lunged at Rachel and pulled her into a hug. "Thanks." Brittany released her and walked off to the parking lot.
Rachel smiled; she never really got acknowledged for her work. She started to drag the unconscious vampire to her locker, which was fortuitously close by, so she could use her extra stake on him.
Unfortunately, he groggily came to while she was putting in her combination. "Wha' happened?"
"Knocked you out. I'll do it again if you piss me off," said Rachel carelessly, pulling her locker open.
"I was sent to give you a message," he said, his head lolling to one side.
"Anything of consequence?" she asked skeptically.
"Jesse sends his regards."
Her anger flared up before she could stop it, manifesting itself in her so violently staking this useless vampire that she dented the locker against which she'd propped him. "He's dead," she repeated. It was like her mantra. He's dead.
When she returned to Finn, he was still lying on the same place on the floor, staring up at her. "Everything okay?"
"Of course," she assured as she dragged him upright. "Can we go to my house to watch a movie? I need to change into something more acceptable for company."
"I like what you're wearing now. No jacket covering you up."
She almost jumped in delight—she wasn't wearing her jacket and she felt totally at ease! That had to be progress. She would thoroughly kiss Finn later for his hand in this new development. "You like how these shorts are tight around my butt."
"No problem with that." He placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her to his car.
Finn was peaceful, fun, non-brooding. He welcomed her affection, encouraged it, instead of pushing her away because he didn't want her to get hurt when she realized her was all wrong for her (in hindsight, she really should have listened to Jesse's warnings, but she had been too caught up in the drama, which he knew would happen). Maybe this was a real relationship; maybe she was finally going to experience life with someone who had it. Rachel could forget about slayage for little parts of the day when she was with Finn. She could never thank him enough for that.
Leave me a review? I'll send you double virtual hugs! It's also the weekend, so I'll probably be able to post faster (though I make no promises based on my homework load...). I shamelessly beg you for constructive comments. *holds out bowl like in Oliver Twist*
