Finn, Vera and Gina arrived at the loft Thursday evening, around 8 PM. Rachel, of course, was working, so Kurt and Santana welcomed them.

"Hey, Frankenteen," Santana said, hugging Finn warmly, and Vera and Gina just burst out laughing.

"Gina, Vera, this is Santana Lopez, and my brother, Kurt Hummel."

"You must be exhausted, " Kurt said, as they settled on the couch. "Have you eaten dinner? No? Then I'll order us something in—Chinese okay? "

Waiting for the order, they chatted. Gina and Vera had attended Lima High School, not McKinley. Both remembered Finn and Puck from football games between the two schools.

"Lima always kicked our asses," Finn said, laughing.

"That's because you had no defense," Vera said. "Offensively, you used to get in some licks. Greg played safety for Lima, and he was always assigned to watch Puckerman because you two were a deadly combination."

Finn smiled and nodded, knowingly. They had talked about that before. "He was good. Puck used to say he hated that guy because he always seemed to find a way to get between him and the pass."

"Greg contributed heavily to your interception stats, Finn, we know," Vera joked. Finn laughed. "That he did, that he did." It was good to see her talking about him so openly. And it was good to be able to put a face (even if it was usually behind a helmet) to his name. Kurt and Santana had been told what happened to Vera, and Finn could see them beginning to relax around her, now that they could see she wasn't going to burst into tears any moment. But Finn did see a glistening in his brother's eyes; Kurt had been deeply affected by Vera's story.

The food arrived, and Finn, Gina and Vera immediately commented on how much better it tasted than what they were used to in Lima.

"It's the water." Kurt said, causing Santana to crack up, then have to endure a lecture about how New York City has some of the best-tasting municipal water in the country.

"Who cares?" Gina shrugged. "This is great". Vera's mouth was too full to comment.

After sharing some wine and stories, Santana said goodnight, heading over a block to Minnie's place, and Vera and Gina went to bed. Kurt stayed with Finn on the couch.

"Dude, it's ten o'clock, don't you need some sleep for tomorrow?" Finn said.

"Yeah, I'm going in a bit." They exchanged family news, and eventually Kurt decided to go to bed as well.

"Waiting up?" He asked Finn, smiling.

"Yeah." Finn blushed. "I won't be able to sleep until she's home." Kurt smiled sleepily and patted his shoulder.

"She is so excited you're here," he said, adding, "And not just because of the Tony nomination. Welcome back. And I love your friends."

Finn stretched his legs out in front of him. Even Vera's Jeep wasn't big enough to comfortably accommodate his height. He didn't watch TV, nor did he listen to any music, and he kept the lights dimmed so as not to disturb anyone. It was a time to just sit and think.

Glancing at his watch, he could tell the show had about one half hour to go, so Finn thought about Rachel working: waiting in the wings for entrances, dialogue with Art, and singing. She always tried to express, in their phone conversations, how each performance made her feel. He smiled to himself , remembering the first time she admitted wanting to make love to him in the middle of a song.

"It's hard sometimes," she had said, her voice filled with longing, "When you're not here, Finn." He honestly told her that he sometimes felt he could happily spend the rest of life just watching her perform, and that he could just as happily pull up stakes and move to New York to do just that. "Then who would you be, Finn?" she gently admonished him. "I'd like to come see you doing what you love, too." Finn imagined being a music teacher somewhere, and his beautiful Broadway star wife coming and singing for his kids. Of having her inspire some youngster to greatness. Just like she inspired him.

Rachel would never know, Finn decided, just how proud of her he was. He fantasized about being on the red carpet Sunday and telling some reporter how he truly felt. He hoped he didn't mess up.

Eleven o'clock rolled around, and Finn decided he'd probably need some coffee. He was in the middle of making a pot when his phone buzzed:

*Got your text. Thx for waiting up. Curtain call over. Be home soon. I love you*

He was reading it when Vera appeared, dressed in blue pajamas, hair in a braid.

"Hey," she said, getting a glass from the cupboard, "Just need some water." She looked at him.

"Rachel done yet?"

"Yeah. She's getting ready to leave." He poured himself some coffee and Vera followed him into the living room, sitting on a chair, her legs tucked underneath her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked. She nodded slightly.

"More street noise than I'm used to."

"Yeah, getting used to that takes time."

She was looking around the apartment.

"I love this place. "

"It's pretty cool," he agreed.

"I've only lived in dorms before. Maybe Gina and I can get a place next year."

"Why? It's more fun living with us on the floor. Besides," Finn winked, "You'll be stumbling over Dunc all of the time."

"Well, maybe I'll have my own boyfriend to distract me by then," she said with a saucy grin.

"Do you want one, I mean, right now?" They were comfortable enough with each other that he could ask that question without her taking it as judgment. Her face grew thoughtful.

"No, not now." Vera shook her head. "But I'm not a widow, you know? Sometimes I feel like people are treating me like one. My family certainly does. They even tried guilting me out of this road trip, asking me what would Greg's mom think, as if I wasn't allowed to enjoy myself yet." She snorted.

"What would she think?"

A glint appeared in her eye.

"Well, I went next door and asked her." That was something Vera would do, Finn thought. Good for her. "We've been helping each other through this, and she's always been like a second mother to me. She had always wanted Greg and me to get married someday, but when I told her what I wanted to do, she hugged me and said by all means go and have a good time. Which reminds me. Do you think Rachel could sign a playbill for her? She's a Broadway fan, and watches the Tony's religiously."

"Did she expose you to Broadway? Your parents didn't seem like Broadway types, when they took us all out for dinner that night." She touched her finger to her nose and grinned.

"The only thing Mary Stewart wants is for me to be happy," Vera said. "'Don't mourn too long,' she told me, 'And when you find somebody, make sure he's at least as decent as Greg.'" She stood up, wiping a tear away. "That's gonna be a tall order."

"I'll say," Finn agreed. "He'll have to impress all of us as well." And he winked. She hugged him.

"Thanks, Finn. I appreciate that. The thing is, I had essentially been mourning his loss for almost two years. I feel like I've cried most of the tears already. Does that make any sense? "

He hugged her back.

"Yeah, that makes perfect sense." He started to let her go, kissing the top of her head. "And when you're ready for someone new, we'll be more than glad to point out all of his flaws." Vera didn't pull away, but clung to him for a few seconds more, in silence. He hoped she knew they would never judge her on how she grieved.

"Okay," she said, finally, straightening up and yawning elaborately. "Enough therapy. I'm going to crash now. Good night, Finn. Thanks for everything."

"Anytime." He watched her disappear into Santana's room and smiled. She was going to be just fine.

At half-past midnight, the door finally slid open. He stood up, his heart beating really fast. Rachel entered and slid the door behind her, locking it,, then turned around with the biggest smile he had ever seen.

"Hi beautiful," he said.

She dropped her bag and was in his arms.

"Hey baby," she mumbled into his shoulder, then kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed in his life. Longing and lust, excitement and pure love, all ignited at once when their lips made contact. It was fierce and sweet, nothing like fireworks, overwhelming, like the pressure wave from a fusion bomb, unforgettable, a force of nature, them. He didn't know how Rachel and he survived this kind of passion; it never ceased to amaze him that their bodies and minds remained intact afterwards, especially since it was growing in intensity over the years, not waning.

Eventually, their lungs ran out of air, and they drunkenly stood, gazing at each other. Eventually, Finn caught his breath, and reached out, dragging the still punch-drunk Rachel into the kitchen.

"Sit down, I'll heat you up some grub," he said, and she just looked adoringly at him.

"You have no idea how famished I am," she said with a wicked smile. He handed her a beer, grabbed one for himself, and put the Chinese food he had ordered specially for her in the microwave.

"You ought to carry something with you, a Clif bar or some fruit to eat after a show, " he ordered. "Look at you, you're almost trembling. I bet your blood sugar is low."

"Yes, Dad," she giggled, "But I'm not trembling because I'm hungry." A wicked grin.

"Is that so?" he countered, and served her up the meal, everything she liked: Spicy Dandan noodles with sesame paste and peanut sauce, mixed vegetables, and spring rolls.

Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He managed to steal one of the spring rolls for himself, and sat back, enjoying watching her eat. Rachel was like a high powered dynamo most of the time, but her grueling performance schedule demanded even more calories than normal. She was looking thinner, he noticed, and made a mental note to ask Kurt and Santana to add a little more fuel to her dinner, even though he realized it was hard to do with a vegetarian. Her usual high-speed chatter was silenced, eclipsed by chewing and ecstatic moaning for his benefit. He enjoyed his spring roll, dipped in some fiery Chinese mustard, and waited until Rachel's fire had been properly stoked again.

"How was the show?" he asked , when she sat back, waving her spring roll in the air, then giggling when she gave a beer burp.

"Nobody ever sees me do that but you, you know," she winked. "Never mind my show, how was the trip? It sounded like you made good time."

He nodded. "Your directions for getting here were perfect." Finn described listening to their playlist, and singing, and getting advice on how to handle the red carpet. Rachel silently clapped in delight when he told her about Gina's idea to sing his responses to any question. Then she grew serious.

"I can't believe this is happening," she admitted. He put the dishes in the sink, and took her by the hand to the couch with their beers. She cuddled against him.

"I hope I don't screw it up," he said, then chuckled when she snorted.

"You keep your composure under pressure," Rachel said, stroking his face. "You were a quarterback, and you told me that keeping calm under pressure was essential to playing that position. Remember?"

"You actually remember that?"

"I remember everything about us. Everything." She was dead serious. He kissed her.

"I'll imagine the press as a bigass defensive end coming at me, ready to lay the hammer down." She smiled and kissed him back.

"Tomorrow's Friday." Rachel said.

"Yep."

"After seeing the show, do you think your friends would want to go to Callbacks?"

"They'd love to. I'd love to." He wanted to make amends for that disastrous night. She clapped her hands, finished her beer, and cuddled close.

"Finn?"

"Yes?"

"I know it's been a long day, but…I am getting lucky tonight, right?"

Lord, how he loved this woman.

A/N: Reviews are welcome!