Finn

"God, could she be anymore obvious?" Quinn said, sourly as Rachel and Santana walked off the stage hand in hand. Yeah, ok so You're so vain wasn't the most subtle of karaoke choices but they were drunk, did Quinn have to be such a bitch about it? Rachel could definitely be more obvious. Painfully so.

I sighed; "Could you just try to be nice? Or at least pleasant?"

And here comes scary Quinn, she narrowed her eyes at me; "Of course. You want me to play nice with your ex wife."

She's not my ex wife, Quinn, technically we're still married. But I thought it was best not to say that and instead pretended I hadn't been listening and ordered another beer, I'd only been half joking when I told Kurt that Quinn was turning me into an alcoholic. It seemed more and more I was needing alcoholic assistance just to deal with her. What did that say about her? More importantly what did that say about me?

"Just try not to be a bitch, please?" I finally said.

Quinn sighed; "Fine. Could you stop staring at her constantly?"

"I'm not staring." But my gaze was already glued to the tiny brunette downing the shot of Tequila Puck had poured for her and scrunching up her nose at the taste of it. Rachel hated Tequila said it would burn off her vocal chords, I'd had to look it up on the internet to prove to her it wouldn't.

"Whatever, Finn, just don't be so obvious about it."

"Right," I scoffed, "Because you haven't been eyeing up Puck this whole time."

She shot me that perfect Ice Princess glare; "I'm going to the bathroom. You know, Finn, I love you, but there are moments when sometimes I really hate you."

"Feeling's mutual," I mumbled as she pranced off.

Rachel laughed at something Santana said and nearly fell off her barstool. Yeah, she was getting wasted. Was she just having fun or was she trying to numb the pain of the Shelby situation? This was the type of thing she used to talk to me about. Who did she talk to now? Puck? Santana? Or did she have some guy waiting for her in New York? Probably not, Santana would have told me about that, wouldn't she?

Rachel climbed down off her bar stool and wobbled over to the bar, smiling that big smile of hers at Ben, the barman.

"Ben! Benny, Ben! Can we get two vodka martinis. Please." She fluttered her long lashes for added effect. "Ooohh and a beer for Noah."

Ben smirked at her; "Anything for you," he finished that with a wink.

Rachel leaned against the bar, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she looked so damn cute, then she looked in my direction and met my gaze. She straightened up and pushed away from the bar.

"Finny! Hey, Benny, have you met Finn? He's my husband did you know that?"

Oh, boy. Ben's jaw dropped and he almost dropped the cocktail shaker, "Uh, no, I didn't know that," he stammered looking between me and Rachel.

"Yup. He is. Talked me into marrying him when we were still in Highschool, isn't that romantic."

Ben nodded, "Yeah. That's...sweet."

"Mmmm, but then he cheated on me with his ex and now he won't divorce me. I've sent him four sets of papers."

"Rachel," I tried but she wasn't listening. She leaned against the bar and watched Ben drunkenly.

"And I don't know why, I mean he's still with her, so why won't he just let me go?"

I caught Ben's eye and shook my head trying to silently tell him not to answer that one but it wasn't my night and he ignored me; "Maybe he still loves you."

"Mmmm, no see that's not possible."

"Why not?" Ben asked as he handed her the drinks.

"Because, he never loved me to begin with." She replied cheerily and went back to Puck and Santana. I stared after her, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. How could she think that?

"Dude, you had a girl like that and you fucked it up, what kind of idiot does that?" Ben asked. It was an excellent question.

"What kind of idiot does what?" Quinn asked as she placed her hand on my thigh to boost herself up onto her stool.

I shook my head, "Nothing."

Quinn tilted her head and watched me; "Hey, you ok?" She asked softly, concern in her voice.

I nodded, "Yeah." And I indicated at Ben to bring me another beer. How could Rachel think that? Was it just her drunk state or did she really believe that?

Quinn started talking about something, I don't know, I wasn't really listening, I couldn't stop thinking about what Rachel had said. I loved her, she had to know that, I'd married her because I'd wanted to, did she really think none of that was real?

It was one of those long hot summer nights, we'd just lost at Nationals in New York but I'd had the Superman of kisses with Rachel and we'd gotten back together and everything was amazing.

We were lying on a blanket in Rachel's backyard, looking up at the stars, I had no idea which constellation was which but the feeling of Rachel pressed up against me was amazing and there was no where else I'd rather be. And that's when I knew it.

"Marry me." I blurted out.

Rachel sat up and stared down at me; "What?"

I nodded, "Yeah, marry me."

"Finn."

I sat up as well, "What, you don't want to marry me?"

She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "Of course, I want to marry you. Someday."

"No, Rach, not someday, now."

"Finn. We're going into our senior year..."

I leaned closer towards her, "C'mon, Rach, don't you want to spend forever with me?"

"You know I do," She whispered.

I reached out and cupped her cheek with my hand, "Then let's start forever right now."

She looked at me as if she was trying to figure something out, then she nodded slowly, "Ok."

"Finn, are you even listening to me?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," I automatically replied as I watched Rachel get up and head towards the bathroom, "Uh, I'll be right back."

I walked into the woman's bathroom in time to see Rachel jump up and sit on the counter, her legs swinging as she rifled through her bag.

"You don't really believe that do you?"

She looked up at me, stunned, her eyes going super wide; "Finn, this is the woman's bathroom.""

Yeah, this conversation wasn't going the way I thought it would, it could have something to do with the fact she was totally drunk and I was halfway there. I took a step closer, this was the closest I'd been to Rachel in five years, one more step closer and I'd be able to smell her.

"Just answer the question, Rachel."

"I don't really believe what?"

"What you said."

She frowned; "What did I say?"

"That I never really loved you."

She froze and seemed to sober up for a second; "Finn, don't do this."

I took a step closer and I could smell vanilla and cinnamon and something uniquely Rachel one step closer and I'd be able to touch her, "Do really believe that?"

She avoided my gaze as she whispered; "Yes."

I took a step closer and touched her cheek with my finger and she bit her lower lip like she always did when she was nervous. I was making her nervous. "It's not true."

"It's not?"

"No, it's not."

She looked up at me then and hooked her index finger around mine. We stayed like that for a moment, our fingers linked, against her cheek before she pulled away jumped off the counter and brushed past me and left me alone in the woman's bathroom.