A/N: I totally forgot to give song credit where it was due in the last update. The song sung by the new New Directions was There's No Place That Far by Sara Evans feat. Vince Gill. So… sorry. I can't promise it won't happen again because I rely on music for so much of my writing.

Thanks for the feedback, favorites, alerts, nagging, assistance, handholding…seriously. You all know who you are and what you've done and I thank you profusely.

Disclaimers: Already done. See previouslies.

Chapter Twelve: Locked Out

….and then nothing.

It was the story of her life. Rachel flopped back onto her bed and groaned to herself, feeling every inch like the high-school version of herself and not the about-to-have-two-big-breaks version of herself.

There were the facts she wanted to ignore but simply couldn't. Finn had kissed her. On the stage. At McKinley High School. After they sang Madonna.

She lifted her head up from her bed, but the rest of her body stayed slumped. Her room still looked like what Kurt had dubbed "where Polly Pocket and Holly Hobbie come to hook up". She found it oddly comforting to be in those surroundings again, even if she wasn't going to leave the house wearing anything animal-print. Chances were good, honestly, that she wouldn't leave the house at all.

There had been no conversation. There had been no explanation. There had just been a kiss, some blushing, and then two separate people going their two separate ways. She knew from her evenly spaced texts from Kurt that Finn had been safely dropped at Josh and Katie's home somewhere in the Bexley area of Columbus. But she only knew from Kurt (who had successfully completed his backtracking in record time after leaving Finn and was next due to text her from his planned stop in South Bend, Indiana). She didn't know from Finn. She didn't know anything from Finn.

Of course, the present-day, adult version of Rachel Berry did have other things going on. Cooper's texts caught her up on the increasing Tony nomination buzz for their just-wrapped play. It would be another couple of weeks until the nominees were announced; either way it was shaping up that she wouldn't be at the ceremony. As dates were pinned down and her equity rep emailed her the latest, the time to London decreased significantly. Instead of being there right at the end of May, it was now more like the 20th. She half expected the steady creeping up to continue until she received a frantic email that she needed to be there yesterday.

The increasing urgency didn't make her want to go anymore.

The texts from Charlie detailing the evils of living with "disgusting" Cooper were the only comic relief she had. Apparently Cooper was going to no great lengths to make the transition an easy one—at least not in the first few days. Anything Rachel had sent as a request to do just that had gone unanswered and, apparently, unheeded. It felt like when she used to stand on a chair in glee just to get everyone's attention and then they ignored her anyway, kind of like Finn was ignoring their kiss and what that meant or what it could mean.

In retrospect, maybe going back to McKinley hadn't been her brightest idea this week.

No matter what she wanted, or didn't want, her prevailing instinct was to actually not do anything. While it was true that the high-school version of Finn was a perpetual mess of confusion and drama—who moved at the speed of a tortoise with regards to her and their romance—she didn't really see this particular version of him being any different. His whole life had just barely undergone a major upheaval. It seemed like the entire point was for him to actually do the rearranging.

So high-school Rachel was going to take a back seat. Grown-up Rachel was taking the reins on this one and that meant she would wait for him to call. If he didn't call in time, she would just cry through her whole flight to London or Los Angeles or wherever she was going and then she would find a way to move on. She may have wanted it all so badly she could taste it, but his calling or not calling didn't really change the fact she still didn't have answers to some major questions.

Ironically, it seemed like now he was struggling with the same things in some ways. Kurt had mentioned during their goodbye coffee that Finn was tying himself in knots over this week's contract negotiations at his school. Finn hadn't mentioned any of it to her, but apparently there was talk of a small tour and maybe entering some sort of contest to win a recording deal for his band over the summer. Finn didn't know whether to renew his teaching contract or hope the band finally took off. She knew better than a lot of people what a leap that truly was, but she found the advice to take the 'sure' thing stuck in her throat as Kurt talked. Through all of that, Kurt never mentioned any Rachel Berry-related knots Finn might've discussed tying or untying.

She'd bitten her tongue to the point she thought it was going to bleed—but she hadn't pressed him to mention it, either. She was oddly proud of herself.

But now, not only did her tongue hurt a little bit, but her heart hurt. There had been a strong resurgence of hope occurring, even before he kissed her, that maybe she hadn't burned through all her chances with him. All he needed was the freedom to make a decision and he would choose her and maybe they were actually meant to be together and she was destined for something great and passionate rather than just living with this aching, empty, workaholic hole in her chest. And it felt like high-school Rachel Berry all over again, just hoping that one someone (one particular someone no less) would love her for more than her voice or her stage presence. At the same time, though, she didn't feel right asking for all that quite yet. She was hoping (was almost positive) the Tony nomination(s) would come through and, even though she knew the competition was stiff this year, she was hesitantly confident it would result in a win. She really wanted to win for Best Featured Actress in a Musical, but even company wins would be huge. And if she actually pulled off this job in London, she was virtually guaranteed to land a major starring role. Probably her breakthrough role. Hopefully in an original musical. She was so close.

But that was grown-up Rachel Berry talking. High-school Rachel Berry was still hung up on her boyfriend and maybe even willing to stay in Ohio if he really asked her to do it for him. She was tired of putting her career first, close to her big break or not. She was tired of having an executive Marriott account and frequent flier miles. She was running out of room in her passport. She had already run out of patience for wandering from job to job without any sort of a base to return to.

She had thought, maybe even right up until this moment, that at some point the grown-up Rachel Berry and the high-school Rachel Berry would merge. Very quietly, she had to admit to herself now that it seemed like Quinn had been right all those years ago, even if the overall sentiment of her diatribe had been selfish. Once Finn was taken out of the equation (if he ever really was), it was true that Rachel couldn't do what she'd been doing to build a resume and build a solid relationship with someone concurrently. The end result would've been her dragging whoever she loved along with her rather than letting them figure out their own path. Even if Finn had come to her in New York during college, he would've just been following her—and he would've probably been as miserable as he was with Quinn.

And of course she had known he was miserable. It was the real reason she had limited their contact so severely. She didn't want to accept that she may not have been any better for him. There was an element of proper timing required that had never, ever been just right. Forcing it too soon would've been a big problem. She knew that now.

So would it be forcing it for her to back out of the job in London? It would be a declaration. It would be a dividing line. And it could wreak utter havoc on her entire career. But it could make her relationship with Finn.

Considering it didn't matter, especially if she went back to the fact that she was waiting on him to figure it out. She couldn't wait around on her career. If there was a nomination and a win of any sort, she had to take advantage of it. She had to go. Ultimately, she was not a huge believer in fate. As much as it seemed like she would be, she actually thought choices played a huge role. Choices were the most important things. And right now, his choice was the most important thing to her. But did he even know he had a choice? Maybe she was just kidding herself anyway. The only way to find out was to call him. And she wasn't doing that just yet—she simply had to keep reminding herself not to pick up the phone.

She sighed. If she was going to avoid doing that for one second longer, she probably needed to actually leave the house. She finally peeled herself from the bed long enough to go look out the window. It was a little overcast, probably a little cool given that this was Ohio and it was only late April, but overall she could probably run outside. And it would still beat using her elliptical, even if she hadn't sold the damn thing when she moved into the tiny Julliard student apartment her first year of college.

She had been fairly thorough when she cleaned the room out before she started with Broadway Across America. All the little things that would've been left behind were long since gone and she wasn't sure what the chances were that she actually had any running clothes with her. Charlie was shipping a lot of the stuff back from their apartment for storage. Rachel thought carefully about what she had packed; there might be something she could use, but it wouldn't be what she preferred. Oh well. She would make do.

She managed to unearth a pair of bright pink yoga pants (Cooper bought them for her as a joke because they said 'Princess' across the ass and she hadn't actually been able to remove the lettering. Even Kurt had been unable to get it off—and no, she wasn't sure why she still actually wore them) and a black t-shirt that was strictly an undershirt because it had paint on it. But it wasn't like she was trying to win any prizes—she was going out for a run. She changed quickly and stepped outside before she could change her mind.

But not before she tugged the door closed and then realized she didn't have a house key with her. Damn it.

She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity but continued anyway. She was used to running in Central Park, but she couldn't deny there was something oddly beautiful about Lima. And maybe she could only see it now because she'd been other places and lived other places. At the same time, she understood that there was truth to the statement about never being able to go home again. Even as she traced a path she used to run all the time, she wasn't exactly comfortable there. It felt like she had just paused her life to return. Maybe that's all the whole thing with Finn was—an excuse to pause. And as always, only time would tell.

The first thing she noticed that was really different in the residential side streets she stuck to was the large, cream-colored brick building that loomed in a peak above some of the older maple trees up ahead on her left. The point of the roof's peak was the only thing visible at first and she wondered what it was.

Eventually, she hooked a glance over her shoulder and swung across the street, realizing as she did so that the building was actually a fire station. The one that had been in that spot previously had been condemned, if she remembered correctly; the newer building was beautiful and the red truck, that had been polished to a shine by the man stooped near and currently swiping at one of the large tires, was equally so. She sighed. It probably wasn't a bad idea to stop and see if they could find a way to get her back into her house. It was kind of convenient that someone was outside because…did you just knock at the fire station? She hadn't ever called them, even in New York. She wasn't sure how to go about approaching.

She slowed to a stop and pulled the iPod earbuds, blaring the Tangled soundtrack, out of her ears. Her chest was heaving with exertion and she looked down at herself with a little bit of embarrassment. As she'd left the house, she had consoled herself that she wasn't trying to win any contest. She sighed, though; she had just been busy internally realizing that Lima was no longer her home. Odds were in her favor she didn't know this person.

"Um… excuse me?" She offered. There was music wafting out from inside the station via the open bay door, but he didn't appear to have headphones in or anything else that would preclude his hearing her voice.

He stood up, turned and their eyes widened into matching expressions before he could get his "What can I do for you?" out of his mouth.

"Rachel Berry?" He finally said. She pressed her top teeth and her bottom teeth together in an effort to get her jaw off the ground.

"That's still my name," she said simply. She tilted her head and smiled. "Noah."

He took a small step forward and looked almost like a twitch, but he stopped. "What the hell brings you back our direction?"

"Technically, it was an airplane and a ride from Kurt Hummel." She tugged at the bottom of her t-shirt, stretching the fabric away from where it clung to her slightly sweaty skin. "But I have a little break before I have to be in London for a new play so…here I am."

He nodded and gave her a very obvious, leering once-over. "Here you are. You don't look much different."

She let her eyes dance over his face. "You either. Except your haircut. And your respectable job."

"Yeah, well… I'm still just a Lima loser. But you…"

Rachel dropped her head as she grinned a little bit. "I'm technically just an unemployed actress."

He heard her words and realized that maybe she had changed a little. Because that sounded disturbingly close to humility and it sounded wrong from the girl he remembered. "And how long is that gonna last?"

She gave a small shrug. "Well, possibly just a few weeks. But…" She thought better of it and left the other half of the sentence dangling.

Puck arched an eyebrow. "Y'know, I talked to Quinn just the other day. She called to say her and Finn had broken up, so I figured you probably wouldn't be far."

She put her hands on her hips. "And just what in the hell is that supposed to mean? It's not like I've come home chasing him."

"No, you've stayed away until the minute he's actually free," Puck snorted. He shook his head and lowered his voice. "Did you break them up?"

"No," she protested. "What business is it of yours anyway?"

"Look, Q is a soft spot for me. Kinda happens after you knock a girl up. It's just the way it is. So when she calls and tells me something major went down in her life, I listen and I start thinking even if I don't want to. Then I'm thinking that if you're here, you might've had something to do with it. That sounds like it would be right up your old alley and that shit is messed up."

Rachel shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. "We are not having this conversation. None of it matters anyway. I'm not here forever, I'm just visiting my dads and then I'll be gone again. You can all get back to your regularly scheduled programming. But whatever happened between them was not my fault." She eyed him, her glance cold and wary all of a sudden and her jaw clenched. "It just… none of it even matters anymore. I'm only good at one thing and I've somehow always known that."

"Stealing Quinn's boyfriends?" He fired back immediately and by God, it felt like high school. Looking back, he had hated high school. Life was better out, even if he wasn't ever leaving town.

"No," she retorted without elaboration. After issuing a sharp glare, Rachel just looked down and kicked at the cement beneath her feet. She absently wished she'd remembered sunglasses as her eyes reflexively narrowed against the dull glare of bright sunshine. She counted as she breathed for a second, unwilling to go down this road any further with him. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and composed.

"I feel like I'm stuck back in high school. It's like a time warp or something and…it's just really strange and unexpected. All of it."

He looked around a little bit. All the other guys were inside doing other station chores. He was the only one out at the moment, and he figured he could try calming down, too. He wasn't even involved in the shit that was going down and he had always, for some weird reason, cared about the girl standing in front of him just a little too much. Especially when she went all wounded puppy on him like that. He figured he could do her a solid and just drop it.

"Talk about strange and unexpected, try having your mother call you up and say she saw that cute girl you used to know on some television show and whatever happened to settling down with a nice Jew," he replied rapidly. "That took the cake."

Rachel scowled. "Did she mean me?"

He laughed out loud and reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. "Pretty sure she did, B."

"I'm barely even Jewish anymore," she commented.

His responding laugh was even louder. "You and me both."

"Occupational hazard," she summed up.

"Agreed," he echoed.

She smirked. "So…your being here seems oddly appropriate as I ask my next question," she began. He recocked his eyebrow and waited. "But do you think you could help me get back into my dads' house? I locked myself out."

His laugh was the loudest one yet because, yeah, that was pretty fucking hilarious. "Yeah, basically all my job did is make it legal for me to break shit. If I leave we all have to go, though. Lemme just go get the other guys."

"Should I just start running back and I'll see you there?" She had already turned to start doing exactly that before she asked and she threw the question over her shoulder, expecting she already knew his answer and it would be a yes.

His eyes swiped down her body one more time. He couldn't deny he enjoyed the change of perspective. "Pretty sure you'll fit in the rig with us," he said in a low voice. "Princess."

And because it was Puck and it felt like high school and she was still bad at impulse control but much better at flirting now, she turned around and replied simply, amusement dripping from her voice like it was a pheromone. "Promise?"

Both of his eyebrows went up in surprise. Maybe it wasn't just like high school, because Rachel Berry would've never thrown down like that back then. Then again, it sounded like she was just passing through town, so…maybe instead of it being high school again, life was just running repeat. Maybe they all were.