Backstory, Part 4

Title: Backstory, Part 4 of 6

Author: Depudor

Email: depudor@hotmail.com

Category: Finn/Other

Rating: R

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Steven Antin and Columbia/Tristar Television. No infringement intended.

Summary: This is a Finn/Kate fic that is a quasi-sequel to 'The Best Christmas Ever' and begins one month after the events in that story. The main storyline is interspersed with flashback/backstory scenes that start with the episode Kiss & Tell and then go backwards in time from there. So the flashbacks are in reverse order, with the earliest flashback coming last. Make sense? Hopefully it will.

Notes: The song "Breakin' Me" by Johnny Lang is somewhat key to this story, but it's from the show, so if you've got tapes you don't need to download anything off of Napster (although you should, because it's a great song). Just check out the first Kate/Finn scene in Kiss & Tell, the kissing scene that's interrupted by Ryder. The other song is "Suzanne" by Leonard Cohen -- the music is not important to the story, but it's a brilliant and beautiful song. And when I checked the lyrics on the Web, the site said "Related Artists: Nick Drake." So there you go. A YA connection and I didn't even know it.

Thanks: To Debi for her laborious hours spent helping me fine-tune this, to Sue and wonka for their input, and with a special dedication and much love to all you teachers out there!

Feedback: Always appreciated. Thank you!

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Fifteen minutes later, Kate walked into his apartment. She took off her coat. Finn thought that was a good sign.

"I'm worried about this," she said.

"Really? Because it's been so stress-free for me."

She shot him a look.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"We have to think about this, Finn. We've been down this road before, and it goes nowhere."

"I know." But just the thought of getting back on that road was enough right now. He stepped closer to her, leaning toward her without even realizing it.

"So we have to be careful. So neither one of us gets hurt."

"So we'll be careful," he assured her. He couldn't believe it. Could she really be saying...?

"We should take it slowly." She looked up at him.

"Yeah."

They grabbed each other simultaneously. She grasped his shirt and then reached around him, clawing his back with her fingernails as she pressed against him. Finn leaned down to find her mouth already open, searching for his. Soon their tongues were groping as furiously as their hands. Finn wanted her even closer; he slid his hands around her thighs and pulled her up. Hiking up her skirt, she wrapped her legs around his waist, making him moan as she thrust her pelvis against his and ran her hands up his neck to his hair.

Finn carried her like that to his bedroom, blindly groping his way, not bothering to turn on the light. They fell on the bed as one. He was on top, but they rolled over, and then over again. She began unbuttoning his shirt as he attempted to do the same to hers, but he fumbled with the buttons and then just ripped her blouse open unconsciously.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's OK," she panted, her breath hot against his face as she reached up to kiss him again. "I've got a coat to wear home."

He pushed the blouse apart and smiled to see that she wore a front-clasping bra. She smiled back and gave him a wink. It drove him wild to know that she was ready for this, that she wanted it as much as he did.

He unhooked her bra and put his face to her chest, then kissed up to her neck, her chin, her lips. He never forgot the feel of her body, her smell. He pulled his mouth away from hers and hovered above her, drinking her with his eyes by the light of the moon through the window. It had been more than six months since the last time he'd been this close to her... and more than 17 years since the first time. She was 36 now, and her shape had changed with childbirth and age. She had fuller curves, not a girl's body but a woman's, supple and soft, emanating an even deeper desire.

He unzipped her skirt to get the full view of those curves. The broad space of stomach between her hips was like a smile. Finn placed his tongue there and licked over her belly-button, up her body to the space between her breasts. The taste of her skin was the same as always, earthy and sweet.

She arched her back and moaned softly. His long hair tickled over her nipples and she grabbed his locks and twisted them around her fingers, holding his head in place over her breasts as he took a protruding nipple in his mouth. His hands crawled up her sides to work on one breast while his tongue caressed the other.

When they made love it was the one time he got no resistance from her. To a kiss she might say no. After a kiss, the guilt might pull her away. But once the clothes came off, she made a commitment to what she was doing, and all hesitation was swallowed up by passion and lust.

Or perhaps it wasn't lust but, as Finn was learning, love.

He didn't know why Kate cheated on her husband. He'd never asked her why. He did know that her only time was with him, but he never knew if that was because she had to have him, or because she had to have someone who wasn't Steven. Finn knew that she wasn't really happy in her marriage, but she wasn't really unhappy either. So perhaps it was what he hoped, that she just couldn't fight her feelings for him.

As they lay wrapped in each other's arms afterwards, naked and exhausted, Finn realized that Kate was just as curious about his feelings for her.

"I have a question for you," she said, her breathing finally slowing.

"What?"

"When you came back here, to Rawley, was it because of me?"

"Hmm... Good question."

Finn had convinced himself he hadn't come here for her. He'd had a lot of reasons -- his desire to teach, to find his roots again, and perhaps to find that townie kid like himself who was looking to exceed expectations. And he could write... New Rawley was a country town, with a slower pace than the urban academy where he'd taught after leaving grad school. It afforded him the time and space he needed for quiet reflection.

So he had numerous reasons, both professional and personal, for transferring to Rawley after three years teaching at Clifford-Brice. But he knew enough of semantics to recognize the difference between reasons and excuses.

He'd grown up in New Rawley, but it felt long ago, like a different world from Harvard and Colgate and everywhere he'd been since. He'd gone back to visit occasionally over the years, but after his parents had moved away, his bond to the place loosened completely. Until one day life presented him with a strange twist of fate, and suddenly going back felt like going home...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Finn was having one of those days when he wished he'd gone to Wesleyan for grad school rather than Colgate. He'd been there for six years, working on his dissertation and his novel. He also assisted in teaching as many classes as possible in order to pay the bills, and for once being poor had paid off. The students loved him. He was now about to become an Associate Professor - or so he'd been led to believe.

"That promotion should have been mine," Finn insisted.

His buddy Meyers sat down on the edge of Finn's desk and got in his face, as he had a tendency to do. "Lipstein's got two PhD's and he's been published in four journals. His stuff on Joyce is going to be in the textbooks in a few years."

"His lectures put people to sleep."

"Doesn't matter. Publish or perish, you know the spiel. If you spent more time working on your book and less time mentoring students, maybe you'd be making some progress toward a professorship."

"Silly me, I thought we were supposed to care about the students."

"This isn't a community college. This is a cut-throat game, Finn. If you want to be anybody at university level, you need to make a name for yourself where it counts - on paper." Meyers emphasized his point by jamming his finger down on the papers on Finn's desk. He sighed, knowing what he had to say. "Maybe you're not cut out for academics. If you want to mentor kids, go teach high school."

He waited for a response from Finn but didn't get one, so he stood up and walked out.

Finn was left only a moment to dwell on his thoughts before the phone rang. Maybe it's Thalia, he thought - he hoped - as he grabbed the phone. She knew how to make him feel better. She'd want to go out and get drunk.

"Finn," he answered.

It was a woman's voice that replied, but not his girlfriend's. "Hey, stranger."

"Kate! Hey! It's been..."

"Two years, I know. And I hate myself for it, but I've been so busy..."

"I understand. How are you?"

"Great. I'm finishing up my MFA, doing some teaching, and I've got a show in a local gallery."

"A gallery? Hey, good for you."

"Well, it's nothing fancy. But they've got a few paintings that aren't on velvet."

Finn smiled. "And Steven?"

"He got a promotion -- well, actually, two promotions since you and I last talked. He's practically running the place now. So, naturally, he's had invitations from other schools for administrative positions."

"But he won't leave Andover?"

"He is leaving Andover. We're leaving Andover. That's why I called."

"Where are you going?"

She waited a moment. "Are you ready for this?"

"What?"

"We're going to Rawley."

"You're kidding me. You're moving to my home town?"

"Yeah, it's a great school. A lot smaller than Andover -- it's only a three-year program, so it should be a nice change of pace. They offered him Head Fellow, which is one step away from Dean. And since the current Dean is probably going to retire in a couple years..."

"Wow, that's quite an opportunity. Tell him congratulations for me. I always knew he'd get to the top."

"Yeah, he's a hard worker."

"Well, I can testify that slacker doesn't pay."

"Finn, you're not a slacker."

"Yeah, tell that to my boss. So how's Hamilton?"

"Oh, Finn, you should see him! He's such a sweet kid."

"I do see him. You put six pictures in with your Christmas card. Everywhere I turn I find one."

He could envision her guilty grin as she replied, "Well, what can I say? I'm a proud mom."

Finn flipped his wallet open, and a bright-eyed child's face grinned up at him. "He looks so much like you."

"He looks more like Steven."

"But he's got your smile."

"Hard to tell, I haven't seen much of it lately. He's been moping a lot. He's not so happy about the move, having to leave all his friends."

"But what is he now, seven? I'm sure he'll adjust, make lots of new friends."

"I know, or course. So how are you doing, Finn?"

"Hmm... Teaching high school is sounding good right about now."

"Seriously, it's something to think about. You'd be so good at it. You're great with teenagers. Remember when you were tutoring under-privileged kids in Boston? Trust me, tutoring over-privileged kids is much easier."

"All I know is I would love to stop writing academic papers."

"And start writing the great American novel?"

"Ah, it's been started. It's been started several times."

"Well, if you're serious about teaching school, there's a certain little academy in Massachusetts where I'm about to have some great connections."

"I don't know if I'm ready to go back."

"Think about it. When you're ready. I know Steven would love to have you with us."

"And you?"

"And I would love to have you with us. Reunited after eight years? It would certainly be interesting."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lying in his dark bedroom, Finn took a deep breath filled with the spring-like scent of Kate's hair. Her head was pillowed on his chest. They were quiet, listening to each other breathe, afraid to doze off lest they miss a moment of this time together.

Kate rubbed her hand down his stomach. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He kissed the top of her head, and she moved back to look up at him.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Seven o'clock."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"What time is it really?"

"Nine-thirty."

Kate sat up quickly, the sheet falling to her waist, exposing her breasts to the moonlight and Finn's longing eyes. "I have to get home."

"Stay."

"I can't spend the night, Finn."

"The Dean's out of town."

"And where am I supposed to tell Hamilton I was all night?"

"Your studio, if he notices."

"I'm sorry. I have to go." She bent and kissed him softly, opening her eyes just as she lifted her lips from his. "I love you," she whispered.

Finn closed his eyes and let that love wash over him. When he opened his eyes again, Kate was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her hosiery up her legs.

"I didn't answer your question," he said.

"Yeah, I thought you fell asleep."

"I was just thinking."

"And?"

"And I think there were a lot of reasons why I came back here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He sat up and touched her face. "Your eyes." He fingered a blonde tendril. "Your hair." He looked down. "These breasts, which are even better than I remember."

She smiled. "You can thank Hamilton for that. He was an avid breast-feeder."

Finn looked back up to her eyes. "But most of all, your mind," he continued. "And your love, which I should never have let go of."

Kate bit her lip, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. "That was so beautiful, Finn, I'm going to forgive that garishly dangling preposition."

"Thank you." He kissed her.

She returned the kiss, then gently placed her hands on his face and pushed him away. "I have to go." She stood up and quickly finished dressing. Picking up the ripped blouse off the floor, she walked back to the living room. Finn wrapped the sheet around himself and followed her, stopping in the bedroom doorway to watch her stuff the blouse in her purse and slip into her coat.

She smiled at him. "Good night." She headed for the door.

"I love you."

"What?" She stopped and turned to stare at him, open-mouthed. He could tell by the look on her face that the words were much too long in coming.

"I love you, Kate."

"I -- I've never heard you say those words before."

"I know... and I'm sorry."

"Well... that changes things."

"How?"

She shook her head. "I have to go."

"Kate --"

"We'll talk tomorrow."

She opened the door and was gone.

End of Part 4