A/N:Thanks for your patience in waiting for this update! So glad you're still reading! I'm loving all the reviews, favorites, and alerts! Thank you! By the way, I don't own Glee.

Part 10 Summary: Finn and Rachel get hot and heavy outside the Hudson/Hummel Halloween Party, only to be rudely interrupted by Karofsky and company chucking rotten eggs on/at them. Finn and others give chase and manage to do a little punching before a neighbor threatens to call the cops. Later, Finn brings some of his clothes into his bathroom for Rachel while she's showering, and it gets very steamy, involving a lot of wet kisses and pressing of flesh. Kurt walks in through the partially open door effectively dousing the passions of the two lovers before they can get too carried away.

Part 11- Hotter Than Hell

"Sexual frustrations masking deeper issues." Well, didn't I feel validated! For the moment I was choosing to ignore his creepy obsession with my sex life, but even Dr. Clueless-as-Fuck thought I needed to get laid or at least make it to 3rd base. Wait. What was third base again in guy sex speak? Hmmm... Yeah, third base would be just great by me. Thank you very much. Mmmm... Yes.

Alrighty then. Back from my mini sex fantasy involving Finn's long, dextrous fingers and my southern areas. Fantasy was pretty much all I got these days. Sadly, my nether regions were suddenly Siberia or Kalamazoo or somewhere similarly unvisited- especially by a certain Finn "Won't Touch That" Hudson. Yes, it must have been pretty fucking traumatic for him when his brother caught us virtually in flagrante dilecto the night of the Hudson-Hummel Halloween Party. Finn certainly learned a valuable lesson when Kurt walked in on us rubbing our nasty bits against each other in the shower: Make sure you close (and lock) the fucking-damn door! Really, if anyone should have been fussed, it was me. I was the one who had been naked after all, not Finn. Though, bless his horny heart, Finn had looked rather flummoxed at the time- mouth ajar (no surprise there) in a gasp of horror , erection prominently on display through his wet athletic shorts (such a tragic waste...), and eyes in the squint of shame, as he tersely spat out, "Kurt! Get out!"

Over the weeks that followed, I might have chalked his avoidance of my lady parts up to a selfish guy-thing, except he seemed equally averse to me enjoying myself with his equipment. My hands started to wander below his waist once or twice, and he suddenly got very ticklish. More than three full weeks out from the fated Halloween grind-fest, and well... nada. Granted, he'd been on house arrest for the first week after the party debacle. (PS- Parents finding drunk people in their back yard equals severe parental anger and generally bad things.) So, I hadn't seen much of Finn that first week post-party. After that we started hanging out fairly regularly, and I got generous hand-holding, lovely kisses, delightful hugs, and once, even a breast grope, although, viewed in hindsight, that could have been accidental. We had been watching Zombieland at Finn's house, and he had been reaching for the popcorn and may have missed the bowl by a few inches during the startling part with Bill Murray. I still enjoyed being felt up regardless. Thank you, Bill Murray! You will be getting a vegan fruit cake for Hanukkah from this girl. (My dads buy them by them case.)

The question was: Did Finn think I'd suddenly grown teeth down there or something? Because I just didn't get it. He'd been somewhat attentive to (or at least blatantly aware of) that area before, but now my 80-year-old Aunt Frieda probably got more action than I did, and Uncle Harry was arthritic and 82. What-the-fuck-ever. It's not like I expected us to be making our own porn movies by this point in our relationship, but I wasn't even sure I'd even call "us" in a relationship. Friends who kissed in a non-platonic way- yes. Friends with benefits- hell no! And I so wanted benefits of some kind, shape or form. It was like working in a Godiva chocolate store and being allergic to chocolate.

I'd started dreaming about Finn's ass, that's how bad it was. Yes, I had dreams about other parts of his anatomy, too. But when I sat upright in bed panting and in a cold sweat at 4 fucking am in the fucking morning after an intense dream involving Finn washing my bug bending over it wearing tight Under Armour briefs and only tight Under Armour briefs, I knew something had to be done. Oh, my sweet female wet dreams! Orgasms just aren't as much fun if you aren't awake for them.

One of the worst parts of Finn being such a vag-tease was that I couldn't even talk it over with my best friend like I normally would have. Kurt had just recently started looking me in the eyes again after the whole seeing me starkers against his brother thing, so I couldn't bring myself to discuss my sex life, or lack there of, with said brother. That would just be painful and wrong for Kurt and me both. So- I suffered in silence, determined to give Finn the time and space (groan) he needed to work out his personal issues that were making him such a damn gentleman all of a sudden. Eventually, I'd have to ask him about it, but really, it had only been three weeks. Three l-o-n-g weeks of seriously deep, drugging kisses, 3 weeks of hand-holding with thumb caresses across my palm that left me breathless, and the hugs, oh, great horny-toads! The hugs were... I just wanted to climb up there and wrap myself around his neck like a Rachel stole. (Okay, I was sexually deprived AND a little disturbed.) In the mean-time I'd learned that there was longing and then there was l-o-n-g-i-n-g.

Matters weren't helped by a recent awkward and unfortunate run-in with Finn's ex in the girl's bathroom at McKinley. I had stopped in to make sure I didn't have anything in my teeth after lunch. Nothing worse than trying to flirt with one's pseudo-boyfriend with a big clump of spinach between one's front teeth. Just gross. So, I'd taken to carrying around a toothbrush and toothpaste, like someone with OCD. Funny, I ran into Ms Pillsbury a lot this way, though I didn't know she and Mr Schuester had made it official, or maybe she just had good oral hygiene.

Anyhow, having brushed my teeth in the seemingly empty bathroom, and assured myself that my breath was minty fresh, I turned to leave, when I heard a faint sniffle and a little sob in the farthest stall. Well, if someone wanted to have a good cry between 3rd and 4th block, who was I to judge? Best just to leave her to her misery. There'd been many a day, that I would have felt her pain, but aside from not getting any, I was in a pretty good place. Nothing worse than being caught at a low point by someone who was reasonably happy- just made it all the more gut-wrenchingly depressing, in my opinion. I moved to tiptoe quietly out undetected, so the mystery crier could have some solitude, when, to my jaw-dropping surprise, out walked Ms Quinn "Oops, forgot a little thing called contraception!" Fabray. Well, this sucked my Uncle Harry's antique billiard balls (What? He collected billiard balls.) and was way beyond awkward.

Besides, Quinn was one of those bitches who was a pretty crier. Her nose wasn't red, and her face wasn't the least bit splotchy, like mine was when I went on a crying jag. She looked like a blonde Ingrid fucking Bergman. Still beautiful with tears streaming down her face, but very sad, and actually she shot me a withering look even through her tears. I tamped down my irritation, and was turning to leave when she spoke sourly, "I suppose this just makes your day. The ex-girlfriend of the guy you're with- weeping pathetically in the ladies room."

I started to contradict her, but then I figured honesty was probably better, "You said it, not me. Well, maybe a little, especially since you've always been such a bitch to me. Somehow, it's not nearly as satisfying as you'd think it would be." Shrugging, I rifled through a pocket of my bag and pulled out a travel pack of tissues and held them out to her. She looked back at me like I was holding a poisonous snake out to her instead, "Here- take them, the school's tp is like sandpaper when you're trying to wipe your eyes or whatever."

Quinn looked puzzled, but took the tissues, "Thanks, but why are you being nice to me, if I'm such a bitch?"

Hmm... why wasn't I gloating? I should be laughing my ass off at her misery, but somehow it wasn't funny. "I couldn't tell you. I guess I just don't feel the need to be bitchy back at the moment."

She took a deep breath, and wiped her nose with a tissue, "Maybe it's because you have Finn and … Puck, if you want him..."

"Puck and I are just friends," I explained automatically, "And besides, I wouldn't stand in the way of the mother of his..." When would I learn to keep my mouth the fuck shut?

"I guess Finn told you," Quinn stated bitterly, "It doesn't matter anyway, since half the school knows."

"He didn't mean to," I hurried to defend Finn, "Besides I haven't told anyone. Why would I?"

"To have your revenge, obviously," Quinn rolled her eyes at my apparent stupidity, "That's probably what I would have done."

"Well, that's a major difference between you and me- generally, I'm not a vindictive bitch." Pausing in my speech, I felt a twinge of guilt saying this after what I'd done to Finn's tire, but no one was perfect, right? "I may not be your dear friend, but outing you and Puck doesn't seem to be a good idea when my karma or whatever is pretty good right now," I turned to leave, why was I bothering to explain myself to her anyway?

"You must be right about your karma because he really is great, you know," Quinn replied, making me stop and turn back to look at her as she continued, "Finn, I mean. I still can't believe you two are together. He could have any girl in this school he wanted, this one included, and he's with you, a freaky nobody."

I shifted uncomfortably at what seemed like a not-so veiled threat and certainly an insult. What the hell should I say to that? I settled for, "I am aware of my good fortune, however, I think he's also kind of grateful that his current girlfriend is not a cheating, psychotic tramp, who got preggers screwing his best friend. Even before Finn and I were together, I knew better than to let Puckerman anywhere near my punani."

I turned and stalked out before she could say anything else. Gave the bitch my tissues, and this is the thanks I get- a serious inferiority complex, even though I'd poke my own eyes out before I'd admit it to her or anyone else.

Her venomous truth really stung - Finn probably could have his pick of most of the girls at this school, even the part-time lesbians, as he had already proven with Santana, so why had he picked me? I had a decent body, although, I knew my limitations, being pocket-sized and having a big schnozzle among them. Then there was my personality. Ah, crap. I was doomed! Maybe that's why Finn had been so standoffish since we hooked up at the Halloween party- He was going to dump my ass! Although, truthfully, maybe he had never technically picked my ass up to begin with.

I had been using poetic license when I called myself Finn's girlfriend to Quinn. He had never actually used the term about, to, or with me at any time that I could recall. My dad was a lawyer for fuck's sake, and what did he always say? Get it in writing, or at least in text. The term "plausible deniability" also came to mind. Finn could deny being in a relationship with me if he never actually took it to the next level, as they say. I felt a painful conversation with Finn coming on, and I so did not want to be there for it. I guess I was well past the age where I could ask Kurt to ask Finn if he would be my boyfriend. More's the pity.

I didn't see Finn the rest of the day until after school. He had football practice, and I had plans with Kurt, so I wasn't really expecting to see him then. Suddenly, I felt a tingle down my spine as his tall presence loomed behind me when I was getting my stuff from my locker. I turned to look up at him, he gave me one of his crooked grins, "Hey, Rach. So you coming by the house after you and Kurt finish your pre-Thanksgiving shopping?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," I said coolly, Quinn's earlier words playing through my mind (what the hell was I doing?), "I figured you'd be extra late this afternoon with the playoff game coming up Friday."

"Yeah," he sighed, "Coach is really riding our asses hard, but I was kinda hoping you and I could hang out for a bit. I should be home by 5:30 or so. Maybe you could stay for dinner, I think Mom's making spaghetti, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind throwing in a few more noodles. We could even try to get some homework done for a change. I have this English essay on some dude named Byron due that I could use your help with, if you have the time."

Finn stood there with a perfectly innocent look on his face, while I fought down a retort that would have included something scathing about wanting to be some other kind of buddy besides that of the study variety. Truly, I needed to talk to Finn about our relationship status sooner rather than later, so tonight might be a good opportunity, over one of the most famous Romantic poets of the English language. Great...

"Sure," I finally replied when Finn's look turned questioning, "Byron, huh? Interesting choice."

"I was late to English the day we chose topics, so he was pretty much all that was left besides somebody named Percy. I've already read part of the Wikipedia article on Byron, and turns out he was kind of a ladies man, who may have fooled around with his half-sister. That's just..." at this Finn gave a little shudder of revulsion, "Wrong."

Kurt walked up at that moment, "What's wrong? Aside from that shirt with those pants. I can see I need to go on another slash and burn campaign in your closet, Finn."

"Stay out of my closet, Kurt," Finn warned in an exasperated brotherly way.

"That's what they all say," Kurt quipped cheekily. I rolled my eyes. I suppose he couldn't resist.

Ignoring his brother's joke entirely, Finn continued, "Last time you organized it, my favorite hockey jersey went missing, though you claim it's still in there."

"It's probably drowning in the sea of plaid shirts. I swear, I literally had eye-strain for two days after sifting through all the plaid," Kurt retorted.

"Kurt," seeing that this could go on a while, I decided to intervene, "Are you ready? We have a lot of stores to hit."

"See you at home," Finn smiled cheerfully and walked off without a backward glance. I, however stared absently at his tall, retreating back far too long. No hug even? Was I slipping into the friend-zone or what?

"Rach, you can check out his assets later," Kurt said disgustedly, "You were in such a hurry a minute ago."

In my bug driving to the mall I just couldn't hold in my confusion and distress anymore, "Kurt, I swore I wasn't going to put you in the awkward position of talking about your step-brother and me, but I really need your help!"

"And here we go," Kurt murmured to himself, "I made a bet with Blaine that you wouldn't last a month without confiding in me. I win. Hooray! Free latte for me!"

"Honestly, Kurt, this is serious," I frowned over at him, "Do Finn and I seem like a couple to you? Like we're together? I'm so confused. I'm starting to think Finn thinks of me as a friend who happens to be a girl he can fool around with a little but nothing serious. I don't want to be that girl, Kurt. I won't be that girl."

"Rachel, Rachel," Kurt smiled in a rather condescending way, "The shower scene, which I'm still trying to scrub from my memory, would imply otherwise."

"That was ages ago," I responded with impatience, "Since then I could almost be his sister... maybe Lord Byron's version of a sister, but he's been so... so... gentlemanly. I can't stand it! It's so damn frustrating. I had a dream about his ass the other night, Kurt! That's how bad it is."

"Well, have you talked to him about itl?" Kurt asked, "I found with Finn sometimes, you have to really spell things out for him. Maybe he's gotten the impression you want to take things slow."

"There's slow and then there's glacial," I replied, "And what could I possibly fucking say that wouldn't come off as needy or slutty or pathetic? 'Please have sex with me or at least grope me,'" I said the last in a faux-whiny voice, "I really wouldn't mind waiting on the whole sex thing, if I knew what we, Finn and I, were. I mean am I his fucking girlfriend or what? Yes, he regularly sticks his tongue in my mouth, but what does it all mean?"

"Ugh. Rach, didn't need that last detail, darling," Kurt cringed a little, and then he got the light bulb being flicked on over his head look. He reached out dramatically and put his hand on my arm, "I think I know what this is."

"What?!" I felt a surge of excitement, "Please tell me- because I have no clue, and it's not a good state for me."

Kurt slumped a little and looked over at me guiltily using the corners of his eyes, "It's sort of my fault, Rach. After the unfortunate shower incident, I may have been a little wound up. I sort of went on a 10 minute rant when he returned from taking you home, about how you were my best friend, and he better treat you well, and not like some Cheerio trollop. He must have actually been listening, and in typical Finn-fashion took everything I said literally to the extreme."

I appreciated my friend's misguided protectiveness, but what the hell? If this was the problem, I had to figure out a way to get Finn back on track. A track leading directly southward on me, if I had anything to say about it.

"Well, of course, I don't need to be treated like a trollop of the Cherrio or any other variety, but a normal everyday girl who'd like to have a boyfriend and sex sometime before she's 30 would be good for me. Oh, Kurt, what am I going to do?" Okay, now I really was whining.

Kurt's brow furrowed for a moment as he thought about my conundrum. "I've got it! We still have the karaoke machine at our house. Might need Blaine's help..." Kurt mused excitedly.

"Wait. What does the karaoke machine have to do with...? Oh, no...I'm not singing to Finn. That would just be... too cheesy."

Kurt patted my arm, "We'll just be four friends who happen to be making use of the karaoke machine. I owe you a duet, remember? We never got to it the night of the party, what with the rotten eggs and the soft-core shower porn. It'll be great! Oh, and we need to get you a new ensemble that says, 'Hello, I'm Rachel Berry, your desirable, sexy girlfriend.'" He pointed at my sweater with little ship wheel symbols on it, "And we need to burn that- really, we do. Uh-huh."

I was getting a bad feeling- a very bad feeling. "Kurt, no stripper outfits this time. Swear to me on your knock-off Louis Vuitton messenger bag!"

After a very vigorous discussion in the middle of Macy's, Kurt and I agreed on a compromise, my existing short pencil skirt was acceptably sexy, but the nautical themed sweater had to go. Goodbye ship wheels, and hello to a rather sheer gray sweater with no patterns what-so-ever, but you sort of could see my bra through it, so Kurt said it was way hot. I'd have to take his word for it. Luckily, I happened to be wearing some of my nicer lacy lingerie that day.

We picked up Blaine at his house on the way to Kurt's, arriving at the Hudson-Hummel house before 5. Operation Beguile Finn Hudson began in earnest. Kurt used one his many hair products on my long hair to create the just-out-of-bed tousled look to sexy effect. I used the eye liner, mascara and lip balm I had in my bag to highlight "the important aspects of a woman's face" as Kurt said.

I studied myself in the mirror, with my sultry make-up and hair and sheer top and said worriedly, "Kurt, are you sure this top isn't too peekaboo? I am eating dinner with your family after all. Don't want Carole to think her son's hanging out with a cheap slag."

"Rachel, why do you worry so much about this stuff. You don't look cheap! You're a beautiful girl, so why not show it once in a while?" He chided me while clasping my shoulders (How much did I love my best friend right now?), "Besides, Carole and Dad actually have a Lima Chamber of Commerce dinner thing, so they won't be at dinner. The spaghetti sauce is simmering in the slow-cooker, and we're cooking the noodles ourselves."

Kurt insisted I borrow one of Carole's chef aprons to protect my new sweater, and we began dinner preparations. We made a salad and got out crusty Italian bread, so it would be ready to slide in the oven when Finn got home. We were just boiling the noodles when we heard his truck drive up and the front door opened. My heart was doing a funny little tap dance in my chest. Finn coming home to such a domestic scene was strangely pleasant. I felt like Julia fucking Child or something.

"That smells great," he said when he walked into the kitchen to stand next to me while I stirred the spaghetti sauce in the slow cooker, "I'm starving. I was right- Coach really worked our asses off today, but we're ready for the game, at least. Glad I already took a shower in the locker room! When will it be ready?"

"The sauce is good to go any time. Kurt, how are the noodles coming? Kurt?" He and Blaine, who was in charge of heating the bread in the oven, were in a loose hug, giggling to each other in front of the stove. I felt a stab of envy. Blaine and Kurt were so frigging cute together that they practically had rainbows and unicorns spouting from their asses.

"Oh, just a couple of more minutes, Rach. Can you and Finn set the table while we finish up?" Kurt answered when he finally tore his attention from his boyfriend of the twinkly eyes.

Gallantly, Finn reached for the dinner plates, when he realized they were on a high shelf in the cabinet I couldn't hope to reach. I got silverware and glasses. Once all was ready, we each carried our plates of food into the Hudson/Hummel dinning room. As I lifted the chef's apron off over my head, I didn't miss the way Finn's eyes widened as he took in my new semi-see-through top, and finally seemed to notice my efforts with make-up and hair. Kurt shot me a sly smirk. The meal passed with light, fun conversation on all sides. Finn was fairly quiet as he tucked into his food. He really had an appetite after the intense practice, and Kurt didn't hesitate to call him on it when Finn sat down with his second plate, "Geez, Finn. Be sure to stop when you hit the Fiestaware. Carole likes these dishes."

When we were all finished with our plates (for some of us, 3 plates) of food, we went about tidying up together in the kitchen. This is when Kurt orchestrated stage 2 of Make Rachel Berry a GILF (That's: Girlfriend I'd like to fuck not to be confused with a similar saying with Grandma in it- just... eww!) in Finn's eyes.

"Rachel, how about a little karaoke?" Kurt eyed me so innocently that I swore then and there never to play poker with my best friend, "I owe you a duet from the famous Halloween party, remember? And Blaine has to take the karaoke machine back home tonight because his brother needs it." Blaine nodded his support to Kurt's statement.

"Oh, I don't know..." I demurred, checking Finn's reaction. Didn't know whether to hope Finn was interested or not. "Finn needs some advice on an English paper."

Finn smiled down at me, "Come on, Rach. It's not due till next week. Kurt's been telling me you have an amazing voice. I'll even offer my services drumming back-up, if that will work for you."

This was just too easy. Now, to hope that Finn would get that the songs we had selected to sing were directed at him specifically along with what that meant. My palms were actually sweaty as we all trudged down to the basement where the karaoke machine and Finn's drum set were handily set up near each other.

Kurt and I started with our duet, a playful version of "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce. It was hysterically fun watching Kurt and Blaine attempt to alternate the rap sections and fail epically, Jay-Z had nothing to worry about there. Finn drummed along gamely, and I was truly impressed. Imagine that, the boy was actually good! Watching him closely, I decided that if he thought the lyrics had any significance, he didn't show it. He flashed me a one-sided smile or two, but otherwise seemed clue-free. This was going to be a long damn night.

At the finish, Kurt, Blaine, and I group-hugged laughing our asses off as Kurt exclaimed, "Oh, Diva, My Diva, that was fan-tastic! Encore! I demand a solo from the beautiful and talented Ms Berry," Applause and drumsticks clacking together erupted at the idea, fluffing my ego, before Kurt continued, "Blaine and I will back you up. Hey- you should sing 'Drumming Song?' You've been working on that, right Finn?"

I nodded affirmative to show I was up for it, as Finn was saying, "Cool! I've almost got that one down."

Kurt and I had discussed my song selection earlier, and I had chosen "Drumming Song" by Florence + the Machine because Kurt had declared that Finn had been driving him crazy by obsessively playing it. In thinking about it, the lyrics seemed to convey the appropriate message for my big drummer boy. I'd even run through the song a couple of times before Finn got home from practice, so at least I was somewhat prepared. Well, time to nut up or shut up, Rachel Berry! Taking a deep breath, I turned to face Finn with a death-grip on the microphone as Blaine cued up the song.

Finn started his drum intro in-time with the karaoke machine, and I took a couple of steps towards him, so I was close enough to see the few tiny drops of sweat on his brow. Watching him drum, really reminded me what a thing I had for his strong, supple hands. Especially when I remembered the few times those hands had played over my body. Danger! Danger! Who was seducing whom here?

Finn, while never missing a beat, contracted his brows in concentration, and eyed me intently across the short distance separating us. At that moment I knew for certain- it wasn't just me who felt the arousal zapping in the air around us. I belted out the lyrics, my voice huskier than usual while I watched him work the drum set. We never broke eye contact, and everything else faded into the background. This was so intensely intimate, so powerfully erotic. The pounding rhythm of the song seemed to echo the blood fluttering madly through my veins to pool between my legs. I fancied I could actually feel the strokes of air whispering across my sensitized skin from the rise and fall of Finn's arms as he struck the drums. Mmm... foreplay through music was fucking awesome!

"Drumming Song"

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That starts when you're around
I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That throws me to the ground
I swear that you should hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell

I ran to a tower where the church bells chime
I hoped that they would clear my mind
They left a ringing in my ear
But that drum's still beating loud and clear

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell

As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up
And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder

I run to the river and dive straight in
I pray that the water will drown out the din
But as the water fills my mouth
It couldn't wash the echoes out
But as the water fills my mouth
It couldn't wash the echoes out

I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole
Till there's nothing left inside my soul
As empty as that beating drum
But the sound has just begun

As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up
And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That starts when you're around
I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell

As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up
And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder

If musical orgasms were possible, we certainly both had one by the end of that. I was pulsating in places I wasn't even aware were erogenous zones. When the last strains of music faded, we still faced each other- transfixed and panting from our exertions and... something else. As I looked into his eyes, burning brightly, I knew that he wanted me, as I wanted him. It was only a matter of admitting it to each other. Well...Fuck me! Yes, double meaning there.

Vaguely aware that Kurt and Blaine were no longer in the room (How I loved my best friend even more than before!), I slowly walked around the drum set separating Finn and me to where he sat on a low stool staring at me, eyes smoldering. Standing between his splayed knees, I placed my hands lightly on his shoulders looking down at him, and said huskily, "I wanted to sing 'Drumming Song' to show you how I feel about...that is, how you make me feel when we're together. I just wanted to know..." Taking a shaky breath in, I continued, trying to keep my voice even and failing, "This is hard for me. I just wanted to know, do you want to be with me?"

I forced myself to keep looking at him, as those expressive eyes narrowed in a pained expression. Uh-oh. Fuck!

"Rachel, I..." he began haltingly, "You're beautiful and amazing and funny and so sexy. I want you so bad sometimes it keeps me up at night. I want you, but..."

I moved quickly to put my index finger over his lips, mirroring the time I had done so in the tire shop weeks ago, my heart breaking at the thought that this time we wouldn't be kissing passionately afterwards.

Then I finished his sentence for him, "You want me...but not enough." I rushed onward, "It's okay. I get it. It never would've worked anyway. The freak and the quarterback. Huh! Sounds like some kind of twisted fairytale, except you're no prince, and I'm certainly not Cinder-freaking-rella waiting to be turned into a princess."

Finn's big hand wrapped around my wrist to gently move my finger from his lips, so he could speak, "Rachel... it's not... you..."

He looked so tormented, and that just made the little control I was so desperately clutching slip a little more.

"I'll see you around, Finn. No hard feelings, eh?" Pulling at my wrist, I stepped back, almost falling over a snare drum. His hands shot out to steady me, but I brushed them off, "Better to find out sooner rather than later, before one of us might have been... hurt."

My voice wavered on the last word. I had to get out of there before I became a blubbering bitch of a mess. I turned and walked, well, ran as quickly as I could up the basement stairs, tears already sliding silently down my cheeks. I thought I heard Finn say something, but I was too far gone to hear or care. All that mattered was that he didn't love me enough to want to be with me. Wait a fucking minute! When had love had any part in this?

By the time I was sitting in my car sobbing as the engine turned over, I realized the irony of what I had just said to Finn. "Before one of us might have been hurt."

On the drive home I finally admitted the painful truth to myself. It already was too damn late for me, had been too late for a long time. I was in love with Finn Hudson. Well, wasn't that just a fucking kick in the kitty?!

A/N: Remember: this is not the end of the story. Please review and tell me what you think!