DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!


Chapter Nine: Unforgettable


"I think Rachel and I should sing a duet together for Regionals." He didn't know what had possessed him to raise his hand that afternoon during glee club, but the second the suggestion passed through his lips he had everyone's full attention. Rachel was sitting next to him with a beaming smile on her face as she looked up at him, excited. "I mean, we sound really good together and this is her only chance to be a part of the competitions. She might just help us win."

"Um, excuse me?" Santana argued angrily from across the room. "Since when did we start giving away competition solos to the new girl? This is my senior year and I'll be damned if my spotlight shifts over to Frenchie here just because she can carry a tune."

"Um, carry a tune?" He said in defiance to Santana and her normal overpowering reign. "Rachel is probably the best singer in this room and she could be our secret weapon for Nationals." It was a rare occasion when Finn stood up to anyone, especially the wrath of Santana, and her eyes narrowed as silence fell over the group.

"So where do you come in, Tubs?" The Latina sneered openly. "Last time I checked you're barely able to sway in the background properly, now you want a solo?"

He could feel a hot, embarrassing blush erupt on his cheeks as the focus shifted back to him. Normally he wasn't the kind of guy who volunteered for a solo but he had his reasons for wanting to sing with Rachel.

And most of those reasons include being alone with her for practice.

"It's my senior year too," he said, trying to brush off Santana's rude comment. "Everyone in this club should have an opportunity to sing and be a part of the group."

"So this isn't about the fact that you and Rachel have been inseparable all week long?" Santana asked with an evil smirk on her face. "Or the eye fucking that we've all had to witness on a daily basis?"

"Santana," Mr. Schuester warned her about her language and ordered them both to sit. "This club is full of talented students who all want an opportunity to shine. I think it would be a great idea for Finn and Rachel to sing a solo at Regionals, and we'll be able to split up the other solos soon."

"This is BS," Santana replied, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting Rachel an evil glare. "They're probably fucking."

"And you're probably the most jealous witch I've ever heard cackle, so I would shut up if I were you," Kurt's tone held no room for argument as he interjected himself in the conversation. Santana seethed quietly for the rest of the practice while Finn shot his step-brother a look of gratitude. He was grateful that he had Kurt's support as Mr. Schuester continued with their practice.

It was only two weeks until Regionals and it was hard for Finn to come to terms with the fact that Rachel had already been living with them for a fortnight. Ever since they started seeing each other under the radar, time seemed to fly by faster and faster when all Finn wanted it to do was stop. They were running on a schedule here, a very tight schedule, and penciling in alone time with Rachel was becoming more and more difficult. At least if they had glee club rehearsal as an excuse they would be able to spend more time alone then they were now. Burt had been giving Finn more shifts than ever at the shop and every moment spent there was another moment he could be spending with Rachel.

Now at least they had an excuse to be alone. They couldn't risk their secret midnight meetings every night and people were starting to get suspicious of their relationship. So far the only person who knew the truth was Kurt, and Finn was pretty sure that Blaine knew by proxy. They decided to keep it a secret for as long as they possibly could; the fewer people who knew about it the better, and they couldn't risk Mr. Schuester finding out and telling Burt. That would be a nightmare.

So he let Santana's comment about their sex life slide and tried to focus on the rehearsal instead of the secret girlfriend at his side. They truly had been inseparable all week long but they were careful not to show too much affection towards one another. Sometimes Finn held hands with her in the hallways but they were most vulnerable during glee club and lunch, where they had the opportunities to be physical with one another but had to restrain themselves. The only thing more torturous than that were the evenings spent at home, where they had to deny all temptation under the watchful eyes of his parents.

In Finn's opinion, his solo for Regionals was one of the few opportunities to spend some genuine alone time with Rachel at school. He refused to let anyone ruin this for him, Santana be damned.

"I am happy we sing together," Rachel leaned over and whispered to him while the rest of the club paid attention to Mr Schuester's lecture. He peeked at her from the corner of his eyes and gave her a soft smile.

"Me too, babe. I can't wait to start practicing," with a lascivious wink she began to giggle, and she poked him playfully in the arm as she rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and spotted Santana glaring at the two of them. Choosing to ignore her, he held Rachel close to him as the rehearsal continued into the early evening. They had their solos picked out and choreography drills started next week.

He was in good spirits when the rehearsal ended, despite Santana's attempts to seize control of the club. He still had his arm wrapped around Rachel's shoulders as they walked out of the choir room together, and she nuzzled into his side happily.

"I want to tell you something," she said softly, looking up at him with her face aglow.

"What's up, Rachel?"

"'Zis solo, it is one of my dreams," she admitted, her face erupting in a crimson blush.

"Really? That's great, Rachel." She looked shocked at his response.

"You do not think it is stupide?"

"No way! This is a big deal and you should be proud." The smile that broke out on her face was brighter than the sun.

"I always dream of the stage," she explained sadly. "But glee clubs do not exist en France."

"Well here's your opportunity, Rachel. You're gonna be great." He was thrilled that she was finally starting to share aspects of her life in France with him and he ached to know more about the dreams and goals that she'd been working towards.

Unfortunately, Santana chose to follow them out of the choir room and rudely cut off their conversation as she strutted past them with a sneer.

"Enjoy your time in the spotlight, Frenchie, while it lasts." She stood in front of them with her arms crossed over her chest. "The only reason why I'm not fighting this harder is because I only have to deal with you for six more weeks and then you'll be gone. I'll never have to deal with you again, and it'll be like you never even existed." Finn's heart dropped into the bottom of his stomach as her spiteful words hit home. "So enjoy my glee club," she spared a glance at Finn and smirked evilly. "Enjoy my sloppy seconds too." With a swing of her hips she turned around and sauntered away, leaving Finn and Rachel standing in the hallway by themselves with sinking spirits. He looked down at his girlriend's face and there was sadness permeating her gaze as she stared forward and watched Santana leave.

He nudged her softly in the side, holding her around the shoulders as he forced a smile for her benefit. "Don't listen to her. She's just jealous of your talent."

"Oui," she replied sadly not meeting his eyes. "But she is right."

"What do you mean?" She shrugged her shoulders despondently with a sigh.

"I leave soon. I am not here forever," leaning into his embrace, she turned her head towards his chest and buried herself there. "I don't want to think of it."

"Me neither," he admitted quietly. Ever since she had arrived in the states it felt like he was living out a fantasy he didn't even know he had. Now, just like the fleeting images of dreams, one day soon the fantasy would fade and she would be gone from his life forever.

But he didn't have to let go of her just yet. They still had time.

"I think we should just focus on what's important right now," she peeked up at him and sniffled lightly. "Glee club, your English practice. Six weeks is still a lot of time." She forced a smile but it didn't really reach her eyes.

"D'accord, Finn," she said, her voice hollow. "Vas-y."


She disappeared immediately into her room when they arrived home; she said she wanted to call her fathers before they went to bed, but to Finn it looked like she wanted to be alone. He wanted to grab Santana and shake her for hurting Rachel so spitefully, and every time he tried to make her feel better in some way it never seemed to work. He had never seen her look so melancholy and he wished that there was some way to help her.

He sat in the living room with his family before dinner, watching TV and trying not to think about super-gluing Santana's locker shut when his mother called to him from the kitchen.

"Finn, can you please go get Rachel for dinner?"

"Sure Mom," he said, lifting himself off of the couch. He headed upstairs and walked towards Rachel's door, where he heard her talking animatedly in French over the phone.

"Mais non, Papa! C'est pas assez!" She sounded upset as she continued and he wished he knew what she was saying. "Je veux pas rentrer! Je veux rester ici avec mes amis!"

He didn't want to interrupt her heated conversation, but he really wanted to see her and know why she sounded so upset, so he tentatively raised his hand and knocked on her door. She opened it in a rush, looking up at him with a light sheen of tears in her eyes as she held the house phone in her hand.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Rachel, but dinner is ready." She nodded once, looking away from him as he noticed a single tear drip down her cheek.

"Nous parlerons bientôt, Papa. Bisous." She hung up the phone and tried to push past him to get downstairs, but he held her by the arm to keep her in place.

"Hey, what's the matter?" She refused to make eye contact with him as she tried to escape his grasp.

"Rien," she said, her voice curt. "Laisse-moi tranquille."

"Don't use French to try and hide from me, Rachel." She paused, looking up at him in desperation. "Please tell me what's wrong."

"I am tired," she said, and her eyes were begging him to drop it as his mother's stern voice carried up the stairs.

"The food is getting cold!" Pulling her arm from his grasp, he followed her downstairs in silence as he contemplated her mood. Had he done something wrong? Was she still upset about Santana?

Rachel practically ignored him during the entire meal, and returned to her room as soon as it was over. Their eyes never met and the rest of the family immediately picked up on her bad mood because of the lack of her normal enthusiasm. Kurt kept shooting him confused looks during the evening and all he could do was shrug his shoulders and stare at Rachel in quiet panic.

He retired to his bedroom early, wanting desperately to go check up on her and make sure that she was okay. When he entered his bedroom he had to resist shouting from the shock of seeing Rachel sitting solemnly on his bed. He quickly closed the door and locked it, even though his family was still wide awake downstairs.

"Jesus, Rachel, you scared the shit out of me." She didn't respond to him, and when he approached the bed he realized that she was crying. "What's the matter?"

"Do you have un passeport?" She asked suddenly, turning to look in his eyes for the first time all night. He shook his head sadly, feeling deflated.

"No. I've never been out of the country before." She nodded sadly and stared ahead at nothing.

"Ah," she said. "Maybe you get one?" The pain in her voice broke his heart as he approached the bed and sat next to her, his heart pounding at her suggestion.

"Do you want me to get one?"

"Oui,"she said, and he brushed away a tear with the pad of his thumb. "You need it."

"Why?" She finally turned to face him, and the expression on her face was unreadable. She shook her head, swallowing whatever else she had wanted to say before standing up from her spot on the bed.

"Never mind. C'est stupide."She started to walk out of the door but he didn't want her to go yet.

"Rachel, please don't go," she stopped walking and turned to face him slowly. "You know, in the US, girlfriends are supposed to share their problems with their boyfriends, so they can be supportive, and like, beat up the people who bother them and stuff." He tried to force a smile for her. "Is there anyone you want me to beat up?"

"Oui," she said bitterly, "'Zat salope, Santana. I hate her."

"Well, I can't beat her up but I get it," he agreed, taking a step towards her. "I hate her sometimes too."

"But you make 'ze sex with her," she said angrily, her eyes flashing. She had quite the temper when she was angry. "'Zat is 'ze meaning of 'sloppy seconds' non?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted. "But how did you find that out?"

"'Ze internet!" She said angrily, and turned to leave again. He quickly darted fowards and blocked her route to escape, hoping that his parents stayed unaware of the commotion upstairs.

"Rachel, having sex with Santana meant nothing to me. I was stupid and a sophomore and all I wanted to do was lose my virginity to anyone. I didn't even care who it was with, and Santana was willing to do it." Her eyes were wide as he held her captivated in is confession. "She never meant anything to me, and she will never be more than a friend. She doesn't even like guys anyway, she's a lesbian."

"But she is beautiful," Rachel pouted, bringing her hands up to her chest. "And she has very large. . ." She rested her hands over her small chest in embarrassment and he had to smile.

"Yeah, she got a boob job a couple of summers ago. They're not natural." He reached forward to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear as he gazed down at her earnestly. "Not like you, Rachel. Everything about you is beautiful and natural and special." He reached over and placed a soft kiss on her lips as he felt her tense body relax against his. "I care about you, Rachel, in a way that I never cared about Santana." After a few more moments she finally nodded, the stress slowly easing out of her as she collapsed into his embrace with a tight hug.

"I have une question," she said softly, looking up at him after breaking apart from their hug.

"What's up, babe?"

"When I go back to France," she paused, looking up at him with tears still swimming in her eyes. "Will you forget me?" His heart clenched in his chest as she waited for his response. He had to choke back a thick lump is his throat before he could say anything at all.

"Never," was his firm and absolute response. He crushed her to his chest them, wrapping his arms around her and never wanting to let go. "I'll never forget about you, Rachel. There's no way I could ever forget about you."

"Visit me in France," she said, her voice practically begging. "Please?"

"Of course," he said, making promises that he didn't even know if he could keep. At this point, he would say anything to get her to calm down and stop looking so upset, but visiting her in France was a fantasy he'd been entertaining since the day she arrived. "But we shouldn't have to worry about that now, Rachel. There's still time."

"It's not enough," she said, shaking her head. "Santana says. . ."

"Screw what Santana said," he interrupted forcefully. "The only thing that matters is us, and the time we get to spend with one another while you're still here." She shook her head in denial, and he lifted up her chin with his finger, forcing her to look up at him. "Don't let her ruin what we have. Focus on what's happening right now," he shot her a wicked grin as he closed the distance between them. "Because right now I'm going to kiss you."

He was finally able to elicit a smile from her before he pressed his lips on hers and silenced her worries. She melted into his embrace as a sudden, desperate urge coursed through him. He rested his hands on her hips while she tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping onto him like a life-line.

Holding her by the waist, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to his bed, placing her down softly as he looked up at his bedroom door. It was still locked and the noises from downstairs bled thorugh the walls as they continued to break every rule of the house with reckless abandon.

He hovered over her, taking in the full view of her body before balancing his weight on top of her and slowly parting her legs with his. Her face was flushed and her breathing was heavy as he trailed kisses down her neck, stopping at the soft swell of her breasts. He reached for the buttons of her top and she crossed her hands over her chest once more, hiding them from his view. He gently moved them out of the way and continued to unbutton her blouse until her lacy bra was revealed. Pushing the shirt off of her shoulders, he kissed the skin of her neck again, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the tops of her breasts and down her cleavage. His hips involuntarily bucked against hers and a sharp intake of breath could be heard underneath him. He reached behind her back and unclasped the garment, revealing the creamy olive skin of her chest as he tossed it on the floor. He gazed at her naked torso in awe. Her breasts were small, yes, but they were perky, bouncy and one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen in his life.

She gazed up at him tenderly, and in her eyes he saw a deep affection that matched his own as he hovered his lips over the darkened skin of her nipple. The skin was taut and hard as he ran his tongue over the nub and she gasped in pleasure as she flew her head back into his pillows. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as she ran her fingers through his hair. Her reactions made his cock so hard it was aching, and he rolled his hips around in circles, grinding them into her body as she arched her back in retaliation.

One of her hands trailed from his head, down his neck and back to rest upon the lip of his jeans. Groaning in anticipation, she slowly stuck her hand inside his boxers and he shifted his weight so she could have better access as stars began to flash before his vision. When her small hand finally wrapped around his length he had to bite back a loud groan that threatened to escape his lips. Her hand was soft and gentle as she slowly started to pump her fist up and down his length. His assault on her sensitive breasts continued as the pressure inside of them continued to build.

While his lips stayed firmly attached to her nipples, his hands began to trail down towards her legs, and the parted fully once his hands reached the fabric of her panties. This time he gently moved the light fabric to the side and brushed his fingers up her slit, where he could feel her become hot and slick. She was slowly torturing him with her hands but he was still able to remain focused as he slid one of his digits inside of her followed by another.

She gasped so loudly that he thought his death warrant had been signed. He quickly moved his mouth from her chest to her lips as he continued to finger her, muffling her cries of pleasure and his own at the same time as they built each other up to completion.

Her movements became faster as he continued to pump his fingers inside of her, and the feeling that coursed through him was indescribable. He had never felt so close to another person, so connected. It was the thought that brought him right up to the edge as Rachel pushed him off of it, her hands softly squeezing him as he came. He curled his fingers inside of her once more and she joined him in bliss, sighing against his mouth as she pulled her hands out of his pants. He didn't even care about the mess as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her and adjusted himself, shimmying over to the side and giving her space.

She instantly curled into him, tucking her body as close as she possibly could as the pleasure still buzzed through his body. He couldn't believe that they didn't get caught as the adrenaline was slowly replaced by common sense. They had to start being more careful or else they wouldn't even have six weeks to spend with one another.

His darkest fears were coming to fruition as he heard someone coming up the stairs. Panic shot through his system like a bullet as he quickly got up from his bed, trying to put some space between him and Rachel like it would make a difference if they got caught. Her eyes were wide with panic as Kurt's voice trailed throughout the second floor.

"Rachel? Where are you? Are you sleeping already?" A loud knocking could be heard as Kurt pounded on Rachel's door. Finn quickly ran into the hallway, grabbing Kurt by the collar of his jacket and pulling him into the bedroom.

"Shut up!" He said, covering Kurt's mouth with his hand. "You're going to get us in trouble." Rachel was currently buttoning up her blouse as Finn scolded Kurt, and his brother's eyes narrowed into small slits of fury as he noticed Rachel's bra on the floor.

"You are unbelievable!" Kurt hissed when Finn removed his hand. "I can't believe you would take such an irresponsible risk! What if I were my father?"

Finn thought about his question for a few moments before answering. "Does your Dad own a shotgun?"

"Probably," he grit angrily through clenched teeth. "So I would be a little more careful if I were you."

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably while Kurt glared daggers at him. "Thanks for keeping this quiet, Kurt. You're a real brother."

"Yeah," he said angrily, grabbing Rachel by the hand and pulling her off the bed. "I really need to find out if my dad owns a gun now. He'll probably shoot me too if he ever finds out about this." Before he could drag Rachel out of his door, Finn pulled her in for a final kiss, full of longing and the deepest affection he had ever felt. Tonight was proof that he would do anything to make Rachel happy, even if it meant spanning an ocean just to see her. With a final wave, she was dragged out of the bedroom by his furious step-brother, who was muttering curses to himself as they left.

He tried to sleep that night, but it eluded him until he finally dragged himself out of bed and googled "how to apply for a US passport."

There was a promise he needed to keep.


Merci mille fois, mes amis!

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