Chapter 11

Morning found Rachel cautiously stepping outside, large sunglasses concealing her eyes. She was already dressed: a blush pink chiffon dress delicately embroidered with white flowers. Rebecca was seated on the patio, sipping coffee and thumbing casually through a magazine. Seeing Rachel, she noted, "Glad to see you're finally up. I almost thought you were going to miss your own wedding."

"My, isn't it sunny today…" Rachel commented, ignoring her former sister-in-law's remarks as she awkwardly glanced around, eyes shaded by her left hand (and squinting in the light, even behind her dark glasses).

"'Happy is the bride that the sun shines on'…isn't that what they say?" Rebecca teased, smirking at Rachel's apparent discomfort.

"I…I think so…" Rachel hesitantly replied. She held up her right hand, dangling a man's watch. "Do you have any idea what this is? I…I found it in my room this morning. I almost stepped on it when I got out of bed."

"Looks like you had an interesting evening, Rach," Rebecca sardonically remarked.

"Um…I guess…" Rachel distractedly replied, continuing to stare at the watch.

Before Rachel had a chance to muse further, Noah entered from the patio door.

"Noah, what are you doing here?" Rachel blurted out, swiftly drawing her right hand behind her as she turned to face Noah. "You can't be here…Sebastian will be furious…"

Smirking lightly, Noah tapped on her right shoulder, teasing, "What've you got there Rach? Hiding something?"

Shamefacedly, Rachel revealed her "prize".

"Looks like a man's watch," Noah observed. "Anybody I know?"

"Really Noah, whatever are you insinuating?" Rachel defensively retorted.

"Nothing, Rach," Noah placated, his smile broadening at Rachel's obvious discomfort. Before he had a chance to torment her further, Sam and Quinn came outside.

"Rachel, where'd you find my watch?" Sam queried. "I've been looking for it everywhere; it was my grandfather's, and I was worried that I'd lost it."

"Your…watch?" Rachel barely squeaked out, gingerly holding the offending item between her thumb and forefinger, which Sam took, fastening the strap to his wrist as he checked the time.

"Yeah, thanks for finding it," Sam gratefully acknowledged, looking up. "Where was it?"

"I almost stepped on it this morning when I got out of bed," Rachel admitted. "How did it get there?" she cautiously prodded.

An amused Noah, hurt (but understanding) Quinn, and amazed Rebecca wordlessly watched the drama (or comedy, depending on one's perspective) unfold.

"Don't you remember?" Sam posed.

"Exactly what should I remember, Sam?" Rachel tentatively inquired.

Grinning, Sam recalled, "Well, you asked me to 'take you to bed', so I did." Rachel's face registered disbelief, causing Sam to prompt, "You don't remember last night at all, do you, Rachel?"

"Of course I do, Sam…" Rachel hesitantly countered. "I…I just think we should discuss it…elsewhere…"

Sam laughed, enlightening her (everyone), "Rachel, there's nothing to discuss. We left the party and went for a swim, you got sick, I put you in your bed and returned to my own room, where I promptly fell asleep."

"Did you find me so unattractive that you couldn't wait to leave me?" Rachel indignantly posed.

"Actually, Rachel, I find you extremely attractive," Sam assured her (to Quinn's and Noah's visible disconcertion). "I really like you, we have fun together, and I definitely enjoyed our kiss…"

"We…kissed?" Rachel whispered.

"Yeah," Sam acknowledged, "out by the pool."

"Then why did you leave?" Rachel (somewhat indignantly) probed.

"Well, you had a lot to drink last night…we both did," Sam explained. "I'd never take advantage of the situation."

"That's very chivalrous, Sam, and I appreciate it," a considerably relieved Rachel acknowledged.

"As do I…" Quinn noted.

"Look, Quinn…I'm…I'm sorry," Sam hesitantly apologized.

"Sam, you have nothing to feel sorry about," Quinn insisted.

"Yeah, I do," Sam asserted. "If it wasn't for Ben-Israel and his damn policy…" Sam ruminated, concluding, "Ya' know what? This is gonna be my last assignment. I'm quitting, effective tomorrow." He glanced bashfully at Quinn, a slow grin forming as he asked, "Quinn, would you like to go out with me…like, tomorrow?"

"Are you sure, Sam?" Quinn posed. "It's not worth losing your job."

"It is to me," Sam insisted. "I'll find something…I'm not worried."

He walked over to Quinn, taking her right hand to his mouth and kissing it, eliciting a beaming smile and a simple response, "I'd love to, Sam."

Witnessing Sam's romantic gesture prompted Rachel to apologize, "I'm so sorry, Quinn."

"For what, Rachel?" Quinn gently inquired.

"Flirting with Sam," Rachel clarified. "You like each other, and I shouldn't have…behaved…like that."

"That's OK, Rachel; don't worry about it," Quinn assured her. "Everybody lets loose once in a while…it's perfectly natural."

"Perfectly natural…" Noah concurred.

"I don't think Sebastian will agree," Rachel dejectedly stated. "He didn't seem to approve at all…"

"Shit, Rachel; you're a grown woman!" Noah hotly interjected. "If he doesn't appreciate the amazing woman you are then he doesn't deserve you."

Smiling gently, Rachel acknowledged, "Thank you, Noah. I appreciate your candor." Before she had an opportunity to speak further, Noah's mother joined them, handing an envelope to Rachel.

"Rachel, dear, a young man just dropped this off for you," she explained, handing Rachel the missive.

Opening the letter, Rachel read the enclosed note, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"Oh, my G-d; I don't believe this," she moaned. "Listen to this…" she began, sharing the contents:

"Dear Rachel:

The events I witnessed this morning caused me to do some soul searching and I have concluded that a union between us would be unwise. I mean you no disrespect; I simply believe that you deserve someone who will make you happy, and I am not that person. I have already notified my guests, and they will not be in attendance. Please accept my apologies for this sudden change of heart and take my word that it is truly for the best.

Sebastian Smythe"

"Oh, my G-d, Noah, what am I gonna do?" Rachel fretted, note clutched in her right hand as she sank down on the nearest chair. Removing her sunglasses with her left hand, she placed them on the table. Eyes downcast, she wiped a tear from her eye with the knuckle of her index finger.

Noah sat down next to Rachel and took her free hand, their fingers lacing together naturally. "Look, Rachel…" He paused briefly, considering whether or not to tell her everything, and concluding that she deserved to know the truth. "I had a bad feeling about this Sebastian guy, and I hired a private detective to do a little digging…"

"What!" Rachel incredulously exclaimed, pulling her hand away and quickly standing up. "Noah, how could you…"

"Like I said, Rach, something felt 'off'," Noah explained. "I only found out on Friday, and I tried to tell you last night. Anyway, this guy…Sebastian…isn't who he pretended to be."

"What do you mean, Noah…'pretended'? Rachel challenged.

Noah patted the seat next to him, and Rachel sat down, sighing dejectedly. Aligning his body to face Rachel, Noah took her right hand in his left, squeezing it lightly for reassurance. He revealed, "Rach, truth is, he thought you would be an 'in' to people with deep pockets and expensive taste in real estate. He's not from Pennsylvania, he didn't graduate from Wharton, and his last serious relationship was with a man."

"No…" Rachel quietly denied, shaking her head, "that can't be true."

Nodding somberly as he made eye contact, Noah confirmed, "I'm sorry, Baby. I wish it wasn't, but it is."

"But…he gave me this ring…" she countered, shakily holding out her left hand, palm facing out as she eyed the brightly sparkling ring in disbelief.

"Rach, he bought that off TV," Noah clarified. "It's not a real diamond."

Hastily retracting her hand, she yanked the ring off, setting it down on the closest table. Deeply exhaling, Rachel gently shook her head, the barest of smiles altering her otherwise somber expression. "I'll have to send that back," Rachel mused, sardonically adding, "Maybe he can get a few bucks for it on eBay."

"You don't sound exactly heartbroken, Rachel," Quinn prompted.

"Actually, Quinn, now that I think about it, I feel relieved," Rachel admitted. "Sebastian was always so evasive about…well, just about everything." She paused thoughtfully, recalling, "He insisted on personally mailing his parents' wedding invitation, and he told me they were on 'an extended tour of Europe' and sent their regrets." She rolled her eyes, concluding, "And I absolutely loathed being called 'Muffin'."

"I noticed that," Noah concurred with a chuckle.

The silence that descended upon the small group as they each processed the recent turn of events was broken by a jovial Kurt. Stepping beside Rachel, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder, reminding her, "Rachel, you'd better get in there; Hiram is making small talk with the rabbi, Leroy is frantically searching for your apparently missing groom, and the guests are getting restless."

Rachel wordlessly handed the note to Kurt, who browsed it, his expression morphing from jovial to stunned. "I'm so sorry Rachel. I never should've pushed you two together," he apologized.

"It's not your fault at all, Kurt," Rachel appeased her friend. "We were all duped."

Sighing deeply, Rachel mentally gathered herself together. "I suppose I'll just tell everyone the wedding's off, and to go ahead and enjoy the buffet…"

Rather than releasing her hand, Noah hesitantly interjected, "Rach, um…before you do that..."

"Yes, Noah?" Rachel softly replied.

"Well…ya' see, for our fourth anniversary, I was kinda planning to surprise you with a 'real' wedding, with the whole 'eloping to Vegas' thing, and all…Kurt was helping me plan it…"

Rachel looked incredulously at Kurt, who nodded, confirming Noah's statement. She returned her startled gaze to Noah, who continued, "I had a Ketubah designed and everything…then, you kicked my sorry ass out, and, well, that was that. The Ketubah was delivered about a week or so later. Ma still has it…" He turned his head toward his mother, querying "Don't you?"

"Yes, son, I do," she assured him.

"Well, anyway, Baby," he refocused on Rachel, "I still love you, and I think you still love me…" He smiled as she nodded silently in response. "Do you trust me, now, Rachel?" he earnestly posed. "I swear, I'm clean and sober, and I'll never go back…"

"Yes, Noah, I do," Rachel affirmed. "But…I behaved pretty badly yesterday…I think the question is…do you trust me?"

"'Course I do, Rach. If we can't trust each other, well…anyway, we do, so, Baby…please…marry me again?"

Noah pulled out a ring from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out to her.

"Nanna Connie's engagement ring?" she gasped.

"Yeah, she gave it to me. She wants you to wear it…If you'll have me…" he shyly proposed.

"Oh, Noah; of course I'll marry you again," she accepted. Rachel held out her recently barren left hand, and Noah slid the elegant antique ring onto her third finger.

Debbie, Rebecca, Quinn, and Kurt were all dabbing away tears when Rachel suddenly realized, "Noah, we can't get married today; we don't have a license, and you have to wait 48 hours..."

Grinning, Noah confessed, "I stopped by Judge Bernstein's office on Friday, and he took care of it for us. All ya' have to do is sign it. Ma," he turned to his mother, requesting, "would you please get the Ketubah and let Rachel's dads know…and the rabbi, too…"

"Of course, honey," Debbie agreed, leaving the group to retrieve the Ketubah and gather the specified parties.

"Kurt, would you mind telling Blaine that there's an opening for 'best man' that I'd like him to fill?" Noah inquired.

"It will be my pleasure, Puck," Kurt assured him. "See you at the wedding," he happily added as he also removed himself, entering the house.

Shortly thereafter, Santana burst outside, demanding, "Rachel, what the fuck is going on? Is it true? Did that asshole just 'cut and run'?" Tina Cohen-Chang breathlessly joined them, her questioning eyes darting between Rachel and Santana.

"Yes, Santana, it's all true," Rachel confessed.

"Well, then," Santana announced, "if I don't have to deal with this 'maid of honor' shit any more, I'm kicking off these heels and heading for the bar."

"Wait a minute, Santana," Noah stopped her, "the wedding's still on, just with a different groom."

"You?" Santana posed, eyes locked with Noah's.

"Yeah," Noah admitted, grinning happily.

"Cohen-Chang, ya' owe me 50 bucks…I told you this would happen…" Santana crowed, teasing her long-time friend.

"That's one bet I'm glad to lose," Tina giddily confirmed. "Congratulations, Rachel…Puck…" Tina hugged her friends, each in turn. "Guess I'm still a bridesmaid," she mused.

"Santana," Rachel turned toward her other friend, inquiring "would you mind being 'demoted' to bridesmaid?"

"Not at all, Rach; why?" Santana responded.

Rachel walked over to Rebecca, requesting, "Rebecca, would you be my maid of honor?"

"Rachel, are you sure?" Rebecca posed. "I mean, I don't have on a super-fancy dress…"

"You're in a black dress, and so are they," Rachel confirmed, "and their dresses are different, so you'll blend in. There's an extra bouquet, too…for a friend of Sebastian's who obviously won't be here. Sisters?" she held out her arms for a hug, which Rebecca returned.

"Always," Rebecca confirmed.

Ending their embrace, Rachel reached her right hand to Noah, who joined her, their fingers intertwining once again. "I guess we'd better let the guests know about the change in plans," she admitted. "I only wish Nanna Connie was here…"

"Oh, she is," Noah confessed. "When did you think I got the ring?"

"Confident, aren't you?" Rachel teased. "What if I'd said 'no'?"

"Let's just say I'm grateful you didn't," Noah diplomatically answered. "I don't get dressed up like this for 'shits and giggles'."

Suddenly realizing that Noah was wearing a tailored charcoal suit rather than a pair of jeans and random band t-shirt, she flirtatiously commented, "You do clean up nicely, Mr. Puckerman."

"And you make one hell of a beautiful bride, soon-to-be Mrs. Puckerman." Turning to face their remaining friends, Noah announced, "Come on, everybody, we're going to a wedding…"

Quin and Sam left first to set up their equipment, followed by the three women.

"Noah," Rachel crooked her index finger, gesturing him to lean in. She whispered something in his ear, smiling shyly as she pulled away to gauge his response.

"Oh, Baby!" he exclaimed, picking her up by the waist and twirling around. "Let's get this party started…"

Setting Rachel down on the ground once more, they entered the house arm-in-arm, closing the door behind them.


Three months later…

"…And, thank you once again, Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman, for inviting us into your beautiful home and allowing us to share your special day."

Smiling, Quinn paused before revealing, "I had lunch with Rachel last week, and she shared the most amazing news. Noah will be producing her debut album, which they anticipate will be released next year. In the meantime, she's reviewing scripts and wanted to thank her fans for their support and assure them that she's not retiring from the theater. In the meantime, they're collaborating on a more intimate project: their first child, who's due to make his or her appearance next spring. Rachel and Noah, 'Spy TV' wishes you the best of luck and success in both of your upcoming endeavors."


Author's Notes: And that, dear friends, concludes this story. If you can, please watch "The Philadelphia Story". It is not to be missed, and you'll immediately understand where the basic plot points originated (major exception being the deceiving, bisexual fiancé...the guy was a pompous ass, but that's all). The only issue I've never been able to reconcile (in the movie) is how they got married without a license. Oh, well, one plot hole in an otherwise fabulous script.

And, although not originally intentional, Rachel's dress is a homage to the one that Grace Kelly wore in "High Society", which was the musical remake of "The Philadelphia Story", as well as said actress' final film before she became Princess of Monaco.

A Ketubah is a marriage contract. It specifies the obligations of a couple toward each other, and it is primarily ceremonial rather than legally binding. They range from simple to elaborately designed, depending on the tastes (and budget) of the couple.

Until next time, Peace out!