A/N: Hey All! Here's the second part! I have a feeling that my chosen date for Rachel may not be super popular in the fandom, but hey, I was never one for canon. But I hope you'll give it a chance anyway and let me know what you think :) Oh! also, if anyone's curious, I attached a link to the dress I used for Rachel in my profile, you can check that out if you want. Enjoy!
Shoutout: I wanted to dedicate this story to my bf4eva, sw1m4l1fe. She gets my ass in gear and puts up with my pathetic whining. Also, she is a fantabulent authors. Check out her stuff!
In the subsequent days leading up to prom, Rachel did not fare any better in her search to find the perfect prom date. At one point, she was so desperate that the thought of asking Jacob Ben Israel actually ran through her mind, however, that notion was quickly squelched. She wanted to spend the night dancing away, not thwarting Jacob's grotesque sexual advances. It was then that she decided she had to face her fate: she was not going to have a date and she might as well get used to it.
The morning of the prom greeted Rachel with a knock on her bedroom door. "Rachel, honey, you have a phone call," one of her dads, Hiram, announced and came into her room without waiting for an answer.
Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, Rachel took the phone from her dad's outstretched hand. "Hello?" she asked groggily.
"Good morning, Rachel. This is your friendly, neighborhood fashionista calling," the voice on the other line said. The voice was feminine, but unmistakably belonged to a guy. There was only one person it could be.
"What do you want, Kurt?"
"What color is your dress for tonight?"
An odd question, Rachel thought, but she answered anyway. "Gold."
"Typical," Kurt scoffed. Rachel could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.
Rachel sighed dramatically and glanced wistfully at her gorgeous dress hanging from her closet. "But it doesn't even matter at this point since I'm probably not going to go anyway because-"
Kurt cut her off. "Okay, thanks. Hasta."
Without another word, he hung up, leaving Rachel staring at the phone in her hand with the ominous sound of the dial tone coming through the speaker. "Well, that was normal," she said, handing the phone back to Hiram.
"What was that about?" her dad asked.
Rachel could only look at him and shrug. "I have no idea."
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. She ate her standard breakfast of scrambled tofu with a side of lemon, did her daily, mandatory two hours of vocal strengthening, watched Oxygen's weekend marathon of Bridezillas with her dads and then before Rachel knew it, it was time for prom. She slipped into her dress, a short, strapless, shimmery gold dress with an empire waist accented by a large cluster of sparkly jewels. The skirt portion of the dress was soft and fluttery. Even though she didn't have a prince, she felt like a princess in that dress. Then she softly curled her hair and swept it into a low, side ponytail and carefully applied just the right amount of makeup. If you asked her, she would say she looked rather extraordinary. Unfortunately, however, she had no one to share it with. But she couldn't dwell on that fact any long; it was time to go.
Pausing at the second floor landing, she took a deep breath before she began trudging down the stairs as if she was being led to her execution.
When Hiram looked up from the couch and saw her on the steps, he gasped. "Come here, Leroy, take a look at your daughter."
Rachel's other father crossed into the living room from the kitchen. "Ahuvi, you look like an angel," he said reverting to the Hebrew word for "my love" as tears began to well up behind his glasses.
The smile on Rachel's lips did not reach her eyes. "Thanks, Dad," she said, rather unconvincingly.
"Honey, why are you so down?" Hiram asked worriedly.
Rachel tried again. "I'm fine, Daddy."
"Rachel-" Leroy began.
"I promise I'm fine," Rachel interjected. "But I have to go. Everyone's meeting at Brittany's house for photos. I'm sure it will be rather mundane, but I suppose I could just think of it as practice for when the day comes that I will be continuously hounded by paparazzi."
She finished coming down the last few steps and gave each of her dads a kiss on the cheek. "I won't be too late. Bye," she then glided out the front door, leaving her dads exchanging worried looks as they called after her.
"Bye, Rachel."
"Have fun, sweetheart."
The photo shoot at Brittany's, to put it plain and simple, was absolute torture. Rachel had to stand off to the side while couple after couple lined up, with their glittering smiles and colorful corsages. She felt like the 13th wheel. And on that note, had the glee club always been that incestuous? Every member of New Directions was paired off with another member. Except her, of course. The actual prom didn't treat her much better either. From the second she stepped into the McKinley High gym, she was bombarded with garish casino directions that made the gym look more like a guy's poker night in a smoky basement than Las Vegas. And the music selection was just bumping hip-hop beat after bumping hip-hop beat; so not her style.
Still, she tried to stick it out. She played a few hands of blackjack with Mercedes and Kurt, who were doing their best to make her feel included. She even danced to a couple of songs with them. But when Jacob Ben Israel came up behind her during one of them and started trying to get her to rub her butt in his crotch, she had to draw the line.
Excusing herself from her friends, she quickly exited the gym and slipped through a side door and into the courtyard. As tacky as the gym looked, it seemed like a different decoration committee had worked on the courtyard. The trees lining the outside were dripping in sparkling, white lights and the music that had been echoing throughout the gym could not be heard on the outside. No one else was out there; it seemed as if she had entered another world.
She had only been standing there, alone with her thoughts, for a few moments when a voice cut through the night, breaking the quiet. "Your Prince Charming has arrived."
At the sound of the voice, Rachel turned around. When she saw who it was, her heart skipped a beat. "Blaine?" she asked, surprised. What was he doing there?
"At your service," Blaine said, bowing. Had anyone else bowed in that moment, it would have been cheesy, but he somehow pulled it off. It was probably due to the fact that he looked absolutely dashing. His standard Dalton blazer and brown pants were replaced by a black tux with a gold vest and tie combination. And his hair, normally gelled and styled to perfection, was devoid of all products, letting his short curls run loose. While he was no Gene Kelly, he definitely gave the famous hoofer a run for his money.
He flashed Rachel his signature warm-hearted smile and walked over to her. "Sorry I'm late, but I never actually had to drive to this school by myself. Kurt's always driven."
Suddenly, it hit her. He was there to be her date. "Where is Kurt?" Rachel asked. Rachel thought if Blaine was at McKinley's prom, it would be for Kurt.
Blaine nodded his head back toward the school. "He's with Mercedes. Tonight, I'm yours."
Rachel felt her heart melt. "Mine?"
"You deserve a fairytale, Rachel. Don't ever let anyone make you think otherwise," Blaine said, looking straight into her eyes as he softly placed a hand on her cheek.
There was nothing Rachel could say. In fact, even if her brain had been able to form words, she wasn't sure she would have been capable of speaking them at that moment, judging by the sizable lump that had begun forming in her throat.
Misreading her silence has hesitation, Blaine continued. "Look, I know I wasn't your first choice of date; or even your second," he paused for a second as he zoned out, a semi-disturbed look coming across his face. "Actually, I don't even think I made the top five."
Snapping out of it, he turned back to Rachel. "What was I saying? Oh yeah. I know this may not be the ideal situation, but I'm here for you if you're willing to have me," he finished, taking her hand and regarding her thoughtfully.
Rachel slipped her hand out of his. "I don't know what to say, Blaine," she said, moving over to sit on the concrete steps that had been the stage for a few musical numbers over the past year. "This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."
"Really?" Blaine asked, surprised, sitting down next to her.
Rachel shrugged. "People generally don't like me."
Blaine gave her the once-over. "I can't see why."
"Blaine, you're making me blush," Rachel said, softly shoving him the shoulder as she averted her eyes from him. Did she enter some sort of parallel universe? It was all so surreal. One minute she was dateless and alone on prom night, and the next here she was with a devastatingly handsome date, albeit a gay one, but still a date nonetheless, and who had all the right lines.
Case in point. "You look beautiful, Rachel."
Rachel turned an even deeper shade of red. "Thank you," she said, willing herself to look her companion in the eyes. And once she did, Rachel had to remind herself to breathe. He was gazing at her with such sincerity, it was unnerving.
Rachel continued to stare. After a few seconds of silence, Blaine let a short, nervous laugh. "I, uh, got you a corsage," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and producing a small box.
He handed it to Rachel. "I heard gold stars were kinda your thing," he said as she opened it to reveal a single white orchid with a sparkly gold ribbon and little sprigs of cellophane gold stars.
"You really planned this out, didn't you?" Rachel asked, truly smiling for the first time that day.
Blaine slipped the corsage on her wrist. "It was technically Kurt's idea. He felt bad about having to turn you down, so he offered my services."
The impact of Blaine's words hit her like a ton of bricks. "So I'm your charity date?" she asked, the smile that had so recently appeared vanishing as quickly.
Blaine's eyes widened as he realized that perhaps he hadn't used the best choice of words. "It's not like that."
"Isn't it?" she asked sharply, her brown eyes now blazing.
"Not at all. Listen to me, Rachel," Blaine said seriously, taking her hand once again. "Any guy would be lucky to escort you tonight. And by some twist of fate, or you know, Kurt's brain, I get to be that lucky guy. I'm here with the most beautiful, most talented, most dazzling girl in this school. So, technically, I'm your charity date."
Oh, he was goood. Rachel could feel herself beginning to soften. "Well, I do like to think of myself as a charitable person."
"You are," Blaine whole-heartedly agreed.
"And I can't very well leave you without a date at a school where you only know a few select people," she continued, trying, but failing, to hide a small smile that was starting to appear on her lips.
"That'd be terrible."
"So really, I'd be doing you a favor."
"I'd owe you big time."
Finally, Rachel laughed. "I'd be honored to have you as my date, Blaine," she said, giving up the act.
"And I am honored to hear you say that, Rachel," Blaine said, returning the smile, his striking eyes sparkling.
Rachel pulled Blaine into a warm embrace. She lingered for perhaps a moment too long, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. Snapping out of it, she pulled back and smiled up at him. "Seriously, though. Thank you for doing this."
"So, what would Prince Charming do next in this situation?" Blaine asked, rubbing his hand over his chin in thought. Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Oh, I know!" he exclaimed, jumping up.
He knelt down on one knee in front of Rachel. "Would you do me the great honor of granting me this dance?" he asked, extending his hand to her in invitation.
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Here?" she asked, sounding amused as she glanced around their surroundings.
Blaine shrugged. "I think this is as good a place as any."
"But we can't hear the music out here."
"Rachel I-just-realized-I-don't-know-what-your-middle-name-is Berry," Blaine said, feigning anger as he got to his feet. "I am both shocked and appalled that would you evenconsider letting a little detail like not being able to hear the music deter you. The Rachel Something Berry I know would never let the lack of music stop her."
He extended to hand again. "She makes her own music," he said, his voice softening.
Rachel put her small hand in his."Barbra."
"What?"
"My middle name is Barbra," Rachel clarified, smiling shyly.
"May I take that as a yes then?" Blaine asked, grinning.
"You may."
With that, Blaine pulled Rachel to her feet and the pair moved away from the steps. She put her hands on his shoulders, but stood a good arms length away from him. "Well, this is sufficiently awkward," Rachel noted as they just stood there.
Blaine laughed. "What are we, in sixth grade? I'm not going to bite you," he thought for a moment. "Unless, of course, you ask me really nice," he added with a sly smile.
A strange look of horror crossed Rachel's face. "Kidding," Blaine quickly clarified.
"I knew that," Rachel huffed, embarrassed.
"Come here," Blaine said gently.
Blaine placed his right hand on the small of Rachel's back and pulled her close. With his left hand, he tookher hand off his shoulder and held it. Taking a step forward, Blaine closed the distance between them until he was so close Rachel could swear he could he hear her heart beating through her chest. Blaine dipped his head down so his lips were right next to her ear. And then he softly began to sing.
A waltz when she walks in the room...
Rachel immediately knew the song: "So She Dances" by Josh Groban. An appropriate choice, she thought. A woman all alone at a dance, Rachel could relate. And then suddenly, they were dancing. Blaine was leading her all around the courtyard with no sign of the awkward Warbler-esque shuffling she was used to seeing during his performances. Instead she was treated to Fred Astaire type waltzing. It was a good thing her dads put in dance classes before she could walk.
A waltz for the chance I should take
But how will I know where to start?
She's spinning between constellations and dreams
Her rhythm is my beating heart
Blaine continued singing and they continued dancing underneath the twinkling starlit sky. Rachel's dress flew out around with ever twirl as she danced with her handsome prince. She truly felt like she had entered a fairytale. It was like there was no one else in the world at the moment; just him and her.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
And then they stopped. Blaine was staring into Rachel's eyes with such intensity; her heart was beating out of her chest. Neither said a word, but the atmosphere around was thick with anticipation. Anticipation of what, they couldn't say. But it was there. Before either of them realized what was happening, Rachel stood on her tiptoes and captured Blaine's lips with hers.
Blaine's eyes widened, that was not something he had been expecting. Rachel's mouth fell open, as if she couldn't quite comprehend what she had just done. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."
"Why did you?" Blaine asked quietly. He wasn't angry; merely curious.
"I don't know. I just- I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled, pulling away from Blaine and moving back toward the concrete steps where she took a seat, putting her head in her hands.
Blaine came up and sat next to her. "I don't think Kurt would have lent me out tonight if he knew that was part of the equation," he joked, trying to lighten to mood.
An effort which went unnoticed by Rachel. "Oh, God. Kurt," Rachel said, lifting her head to look at Blaine in alarm. "You're not going to tell him about this are you?"
"No."
Rachel's eyes fluttered in surprise. She had not been expecting such directness. "Oh, okay. Good. And I may be pushing my luck here, but can I ask why not?"
"Because then I'd also have to tell him about this-"
Blaine cupped his hand under Rachel's ear and pulled her toward him, their lips connecting in a second kiss. This time Rachel was the one caught off guard. When he released her, once again, the silence between them was palpable. Chocolate eyes met hazel ones as they both leaned toward each other. The latest kiss started off like the previous two: soft and hesitant, but quickly built up into something stronger; more animalistic. Lips clashed together, meeting in a fury of passion and want. Both had doubts playing at the back of their minds, but both allowed their desires to overtake them.
Blaine pulled away abruptly. "What are we doing?"
"I don't know," Rachel admitted, wiping her smeared lipstick off her face.
"You're not drunk, are you?" Blaine asked seriously, his eyebrows furrowing together.
"No," she paused. "Are you?"
He shook his head. "Not in the slightest."
"Then it must have just been the situation," Rachel said decidedly. "It's prom, and I was feeling vulnerable earlier about begin dateless and thenyou showed up and you were charming and ridiculously handsome-"
Blaine grinned stupidly. "Thanks."
"-and stubborn," she continued, flashing him a look. "And we danced and you sang to me, under the stars, I might add, with that incredible, melt-a-persons-heart-and-soul-into-a-giant-puddle-of-mush voice that you have. And you were perfect. This is your fault!" Rachel exclaimed, poking him in the chest.
"My fault?" Blaine let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one who kissed me first?"
"Perhaps, but it's like I said before, it was just because of the situation; the situation you caused," Rachel said, her tone officially accusatory.
Blaine's voice dropped to something that of a whisper. "But the thing is, Rachel, I really don't think that's what it was."
Rachel's heart skipped a beat. "What are you saying?" she asked him.
He thought carefully before answering. "I'm saying that the situation may have caused you to kiss me, yes, the first time. But the others were all on just you and me."
"So?" Rachel asked, encouraging him to continue.
Blaine's eyes gazed expressively into hers, as if he was searching for the answer to a question he was hesitant to ask. "So what if there's still something between us?" he asked, his word hanging heavily between them.
"But that's impossible," Rachel denied. "You're gay. You said so yourself that day in the Lima Bean when we kissed when we were both actually sober," she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince: Blaine or herself.
"I know. I know I did. And I am," Blaine hesitated. "I think."
He was killing her. "Blaine!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Or maybe I'm just human. A human who can't help who he falls for."
His words pierced right through her heart. But before she could say anything, he continued. "Do you know what defines humans as a species?"
Rachel was taken aback by the sudden shift in topic. "Opposable thumbs?" she asked curiously.
"Well, yes," Blaine acknowledged, "But also free will; the right to choose."
Rachel could barely dare to breathe. "What does that mean exactly?" she asked, unsure of what his answer will be and unsure if she would be able to handle that answer.
Blaine took a deep breath. "Rachel, I think that-"
Before he could continue, a third voice was added to the equation. "There you guys are!" Mercedes exclaimed, coming out of the door on the side of the school. "Kurt sent me to look for you. They're just about to announce prom king and queen. He thought you might want to see that."
Blaine turned to Rachel, an unreadable expression in his eyes and a poignant smile on his lips. "Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand to her once again.
Without another word, Rachel took it and the two of them followed Mercedes out of the starry night and back into the prom.