A/N: So glad you're enjoying it so far. And it seems my intentions are quite transparent – but we're not getting that far yet. Let me introduce you to a new character first…. you might see quite a bit of her in other future fics, so I hope you'll grow to like her.

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As quietly as he could, Finn raised himself up on his elbows and looked over to his sleeping girlfriend who was lying next to him, her back turned to him, her left cheek resting on her clasped hands, a hint of a smile playing on her lips even in her sleep as a stray moonbeam cast a weak spotlight through the window onto her face. Looking at her like this, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of protectiveness, of wanting to make sure nothing would ever happen to her. But it also filled him with an odd sort of dread that he'd never been able to shake: the fear that he wasn't going to be good enough, not just that he couldn't physically protect her – wasn't really possible, living two states away from her – but that he was going to fail her in some other way, too, some day. Maybe he already had, just by staying with her against the odds. Because no one deserved to be this happy, for this long, right? As he watched her, the light of the moon died away, casting the room into inky darkness again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore his dread, and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The headache that he'd woken up to moments earlier reasserted itself with a painful throbbing right above his brows. Suppressing the urge to groan, he slipped his half of the blanket off and sat up on the side of the bed, wondering if he should wake Rachel and ask her for some aspirin. He'd rather not – she needed her sleep after the long day of showing him around the city; maybe he'd be fine if he just got himself a glass of water from the kitchen and drank that.

From the other side of her closed bedroom door he could still hear low noises; the TV running, someone's feet shuffling by in the hallway, a water tap being turned on and off, water running, plates clinking. The longer he listened, the more distinct he could make them out. These walls were really almost paper-thin. And there was no doubt that the noises came from Mara, Rachel's elusive room-mate about whom he'd heard all kinds of horror stories since Rachel had moved to New York. Finn wasn't sure if he really wanted to meet this woman, after all the tales he'd heard, but he had to give her some credit: after Hiram Berry had persuaded her to act as a kind of guardian to his precious daughter when he'd come to the city to sign the rent contract with her, Finn had thought his visits to Rachel were going to be uncomfortably spent sneaking around and sleeping by himself in some cheap hotel, but his girlfriend had told him Mara had reacted to the news of his arrival with nothing but a knowing smirk and a nod. She therefore couldn't be all that bad – he had a shrewd idea that Rachel didn't want to see past her own level of annoyance at her dad's meddling and had therefore stubbornly decided to dislike her roommate/guardian just to spite her dads. It was a streak of childishness he found oddly lovable about her.

In the darkness he stuck out his foot and felt around with it on the floor until his toes encountered the soft material of fabric. Picking it up and making sure it was a shirt as he probed it for the right amount of openings, he hoped it was his own before slipping it over his head. They'd used her roommate's absence earlier to pretty much rip each other's clothes off and make up for lost time – could one get a headache from too much sex? – and both their clothes were strewn all around the room. Getting up slowly, he then tiptoed around the bed to the other side and opened the door to the hallway.

Making sure to turn the knob all the way and not letting go until the door met the frame and the lock could slide back without making a noise – yeah, he was totally good at sneaking around - he closed the door, keeping an eye on the sleeping Rachel until the last moment, just to be sure she hadn't woken up. Turning around, he almost jumped out of his skin when he unexpectedly found himself face to face with Rachel's roommate.

"Nice shirt," Mara said. Looking down at himself, Finn realised he was wearing Rachel's oversized, blue polka-dotted nightshirt instead of his own, but any embarrassment he might have felt was overridden by the woman's own appearance: she was wearing some sort of full-body dress with a garish print of some kind of dizzyingly bright multi-coloured snake winding round and round her body like a Technicolor mummy, and there was an equally bright lime-green turban on top of her head. Carrot-red whisps of hair stuck out left and right from underneath that, and with her double chin and two round button-like eyes she kind of looked a bit like that fat penguin in Happy Feet, except for the clothes. For a second Finn wondered if she'd choke on the necklace she had on her, too, one day, because it looked just as tightly wound round her neck. He stopped himself from staring at it too hard – if she did, she probably wouldn't do it right there and then.

The woman really was something else. The freakiest thing about her was the smirk on her face though. It was sort of nice – humorous, Rachel would say – but there were a bunch of other things mixed in with it, and he had no idea what other things since he had just met her for the first time. Amusement, probably, because of his shirt. He decided to focus on her eyes, and concentrated on feeling embarrassed about the shirt, because he was pretty sure he'd not manage to stop himself from cracking up looking at the rest of her. She was a lot older than him, though, and he should be respecting his elders, so…. Yeah, she probably wouldn't find it funny at all. He was fairly certain he was supposed to say something or the woman would probably think he was a total dimwit.

"Ehh… hi. I'm Finn," he managed, and stuck out his hand.

She took it and squeezed it with a grip that could have squeezed dry a whole lemon in 5 seconds flat. A sound like a low chuckle bubbled from her lips, before she responded, "I know. And I'm Mara – but you know that, too."

And then, if this woman hadn't already been freaky enough, she went and did something that really totally threw him: Smirk still in place, she looked him over – from top to bottom, her eyes moving very slowly, making it very obvious that she was indeed checking him out. If he'd been a dog, it would have raised his heckles – he wasn't though, and all it did was make him blush furiously to his further discomfort. What was this woman doing?

"You're not bad looking, lad. I can see why Rachel would want to keep you around. I've heard lots of things about you….. and seen some," she offered with another chuckle and disturbingly knowing grin at the end. Had she really just checked out his crotch when she'd said that? He was sure his ears were on fire or something. What had she meant by that? It couldn't be that Rachel actually had described anything to her - could it? Or worse even: shown her? She wouldn't - would she?

"Uhh… ahh… th-thanks," he muttered, acutely uncomfortable now, wanting to get away from her as fast as he could. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to go meet this roommate now? Every instinct said: RUN. Maybe he could forget about that glass of water. It wasn't so important, really. Not as important as escaping from the crazy lady with the knowing eyes.

"Don't be worryin' about the noise 'n'all. I got meself some earplugs. So you two can go at it all night if you want and I wouldn't hear a thing."

Finn stared at her, not sure if he'd really heard her right. But as if she'd read his mind, she stepped up close to him and patted his left cheek with a chubby hand, adding with a laugh, "Don't mind me, lad. I've got a habit of blurting out what's on my mind, and folks over on this side of the pond aren't ready for it. 'Specially if it's about sex. Makes you uncomf'table, I know. I promise I'll behave from now on."

He gulped, his discomfort having grown infinitesimally larger since she'd come so close. He had a thing for word vomit, too, but this was something else. When he dared to look at her, though, she was eyeing him with what could best be described as a quizzical look.

"Mind you, I wouldn't've pegged you for the type, but I figure that girl of yours knows how to get what she wants, right?" He nodded, without really knowing why. "Yeah, she's a good girl. Bit of a firecracker, right? Sure she'd have to be…" Mara gave off a disturbingly cackling laugh. "Okay, shutt'n up now. So – were you needin' anything?"

Open-mouthed, he just stood there, staring. Was this woman for real? He knew she was from somewhere European – Ireland? Was this the way they talked about stuff like that over there? With almost total strangers?

"Lad? …Finn?" she said when he failed to say anything.

Hearing his name finally snapped him out of it. "Uhh… sorry. Yeah. Water. I mean – some water. To drink," he muttered, his eyes darting from her to the kitchen at the far end of the hallway. He didn't want her to go get it for him – he'd be fine if she'd just go to whatever was her room and disappear so he wouldn't have to try and think of some way to talk to this woman any further without Rachel being there to save—ahh, help – him. "Got a headache. But I think I'll just go back to bed and sleep it off. Don't mind me," he said, trying to sound like this was really the best thing to do, and turned around back to the door of Rachel's room.

"Oh," came crazy lady's voice from behind him. "Nothin' easier than that, lad. She's got some pills for that in her drawer. Wait here!"

Frozen in mid-motion as his hand was already turning the doorknob again, he found himself irrationally responding to her words as if fearing she'd turn into some multi-coloured monster to swallow him whole if he didn't do as told – some giant multi-coloured snake or something. He didn't even dare move his head to look over his shoulder at what she was doing, but there was no need. He could hear her footsteps retreating, a cupboard banging shut, the water running once again – and then her footsteps were coming back. He flinched when her hand made contact with his as she pushed the glass of water at him.

A clap on his shoulder was the last thing, aside from her chuckled "Nightnight, Finny D," – and then he bolted through the door, face aflame, heart racing, spilling half the water over himself as he hastily locked the door behind him in the welcoming darkness of Rachel's room. Sinking back against the door once it had safely shut out the madwoman outside, he stared through the gloom at the sleeping form of his girlfriend.

He couldn't believe she had told that woman about the nickname she liked to use for him. But how else would her nutjob-roommate know about it?

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A/N #2: Apart from some small similarities in body type and expressions, she really has nothing in common with me :-p Especially not the outfit. But then – don't let Finn's first impression freak you out of liking her. He'll come to like her – eventually. Once he's realised she's not some sort of freaky pervert who's about to corrupt Rachel or something. For now – let's just say I needed a reason for him to start looking through Rachel's drawers. And went a really really roundabout way to get there. Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think about it all!