A/N: I'm so gratified at the response I've received so far to this fic (and to my continuation of K2QSq). Your appreciation really lifts my spirits and helps me keep writing. Thank you all so very much. – HL
I chose Finn's alternate hometown in tribute to my other favorite fictional Ohio native, the detective Archie Goodwin.
Rachel saw Finn again in passing over the next few days. He always gave her a smile and a nod, sometimes even giving her a 'hey' or asking how she was doing. It was nice, he was nice, and it was good to actually feel a little less adrift. She was not used to anyone really making her feel like she might belong. She still knew she didn't, of course, but the effort was appreciated, and definitely the heart behind it too.
The spring came back to her step. And even though Santana could have kicked her out again at any time, Rachel slept better just knowing that Finn was out there. That she wasn't alone.
That spring turned into a full-on bounce one morning when Rachel arrived in the dining hall for breakfast and saw Finn waving her over to a table where he'd just put his tray down.
"Hey Rach," he said, giving her a charming half-smile that made her knees go weak. She quickly put her tray down opposite his, smiling back as she did her best to cover up her excitement at having a chance to talk to him again. That he was reaching out to her.
"Good morning, Finn," she enthused, sitting down. "Did your run go well?"
He grinned. "Yeah, it did. Intervals today." He glanced down at his breakfast, bacon and eggs, high protein. "It works up quite the appetite."
"I'm sure it does," Rachel agreed, not wanting to make him self-conscious. Certainly she was going for a very healthy option, oatmeal with a side bowl of fruit, but surely as an athlete he would be eating what was good for him, something approved. He must need to build muscle for football. She picked up her spoon, fishing some blueberries out of her fruit and mixing them into the oatmeal. "It's good that they have a range of options," she commented, starting to eat. "This isn't all that different from what I'm used to, at home."
Finn was starting on his breakfast too. "So where is home? You had an apartment, before, you said."
"Why yes." Rachel was happy that he'd remembered what she'd said when they'd met before, especially since she wasn't sure how coherent she had been at the time. "I did have a little place in town at first, but it turned out not to be in good shape." She flipped some errant strands of her hair back over her shoulder. "I'm from Lima."
"Really? Lima Ohio?" He laughed a little. "No way."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "You would believe Lima Peru perhaps?" she said archly.
"Well you are pretty exotic..." Finn teased back, then sobered. "Nah, it's just that I was born in Lima too. We moved when I was six, to live closer to my mom's family in Zanesville. A few years later she got together with Burt so Chillicothe became home. Been there ever since."
"Burt?" Rachel prompted, eating slowly as she listened.
"My stepdad. My dad died in Iraq when I was a baby."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Sure I missed knowing him, but Burt's awesome. And I like Chillicothe, it's cool. Though I guess if I'd stayed in Lima I'd've known you already but – here we are after all."
Rachel gave him a smile, liking this response. "So what are you doing at Wright State? Other than football. Your program."
Finn blinked. "Uh..." He swallowed another bite.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to get nosy, or belittle football, just –"
"No, it's okay. I'm just not used to anyone caring what my program is, as soon as they hear 'football' that's all they latch onto. Or they assume I'm a Phys Ed or Communications major like most of the rest of the team."
"Incorrectly, I assume." She spooned out the last of her oatmeal, letting him talk.
"Yeah. I am in Education, but Middle." He downed his juice, then met her eyes again. "People are surprised, I guess, but I know football's not going to last forever, and I want to do more than stay in sports. And I used to help out at a day camp for kids, the last two summers of high school. I really like working with kids, getting them all excited about stuff." He smiled. "Everyone should have something they can get excited about, right?"
She beamed in return. "I couldn't agree more." They shared a look, and Rachel found herself more and more interested in this young man who clearly cared so much about others. Including, she hoped, herself.
"So you're in theater arts, huh?" Finn went on, changing the subject back to her. "That's not exactly a usual small-town Ohio thing. I mean, we have a good theater in Chillicothe, but it's rare. Nothing like that in Lima from what I've been told."
"I'm not exactly a typical person from Lima."
He looked into her eyes, giving her a personal smile. "You're not typical at all. It's good."
Rachel blushed, then met his eyes again, smiling in return. "Well my dads exposed me to the arts almost from the day I was born. It's always been my 'thing to get excited about'."
"Dads – plural?"
"Yes, I have two gay dads." She got a little defensive; not many people she'd met were used to her kind of family. She hoped this wasn't going to be a problem for Finn, since her dads were nonnegotiable. "I was born of love, they had to go to quite a lot of trouble to have me."
Finn shrugged, finishing the last of his breakfast. "Hey, I have no problem with that." He smiled again. "Glad they went to the trouble."
Rachel relaxed at this obvious appreciation. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to overreact – it's just I've had to deal with a lot of small-minded people. I don't see what someone's sexual orientation should matter to anyone else, unless you're interested in them yourself."
"Sounds right to me." Finn touched her hand in reassurance, and she felt electricity in even that light brief touch. Their eyes met again, and she thought she saw recognition of this in his face too. But he soon went on. "So why here for theater arts?" He caught Rachel's frown. "I mean, I would have thought you'd go to someplace fancy in New York. No offense, honestly, you just seem... better than this place. Um, not that there's anything wrong with this place."
She did like that she'd obviously made a good impression, but the reminder was still unfortunate. "Well I did want to get into a New York school. I just..." she sighed. "I didn't have the experience. Actual performing experience, that is, other than recitals. I have piles of training." She pouted. "Like you said, good theaters are rare in small-town Ohio. The Glee club in my school died due to lack of interest, there was really nobody to sing with, and no matter how much I worked on my auditions for what limited community theater we had..." she sighed again. "They just never seemed to appreciate what I can do."
"I'm sorry." By this time they had both moved their trays to the side, and he looked intently at her. "You okay?"
She flashed him a bright smile. "Yes, I'm fine. It's a new start. And the musical theater program here is very well thought of, even if not exactly renowned – yet." She punctuated that with a decisive nod.
"Yet? You mean once you come out of here it will be, right?" he teased, their mood lightening.
"Well yes." Rachel blushed. "And it was quite competitive to get in, even if not as hard as Tisch and NYADA. Plus there's an active local theater community, I've met a few of them already and they seem very friendly and open-minded."
"That's great."
"They have open auditions for Les Miz in a few weeks and I should have a very good chance at Eponine. It's not a big part, but she has a solo." She beamed. "I've been singing it for years."
"That's the French Revolution one, right?"
"Why – yes." Rachel was surprised.
"Didn't expect a football player to know that, huh?" Finn chuckled.
"It's obvious I have had a very inadequate exposure to the right sort of football players." Listening to herself, Rachel blushed at her unwitting double-entendre with 'exposure'. Not that she wouldn't be possibly interested in experiencing the other sort of exposure... but it was rather soon to even imply anything of the kind. Especially as she was quite inexperienced with that. "Maybe I should come to a game sometime," she went on, trying to cover.
Finn simply smiled, not appearing to notice her slip. "Sure. We play on Saturdays, usually. Next game's a home one, against Valparaiso. Mostly I just sit on the bench, but the game's worth watching."
"I'll give it a try." Rachel's pocket buzzed, and she checked her phone. "Fifteen minutes to my acting class, sorry. It's over in Creative Arts."
"I have Sociology in Fawcett, that's most of the way there. I'll walk you." Finn rose, stacking her tray on his. "If you don't mind the company."
"I would love the company, that's very chivalrous of you." Rachel bounced up, but in her happy distracted state she didn't notice someone else was nearby until they collided.
"Whoops, sorry midget," came the familiar female voice.
Buoyed by her increased confidence, Rachel whirled to face Santana. "Apology accepted, thank you." She plastered a smile onto her face and held her hand out. "I've seen you around, haven't I? I'm Rachel Berry, I live in McKinley 11."
"I –" Santana frowned, discomfited, and Finn gave her a pointed look. "Why so do I," she ground out, her smile more of a disguised grimace. "Santana Lopez." She shook Rachel's hand briefly, regaining her composure, then gave a mean smirk. "You'll find everybody knows me. Even the Sasquatch behind you, or should I say especially." She gave Finn a wink and sauntered off.
"What was that?" Finn asked, his eyebrows raised.
Rachel groaned, flinging herself back into her chair. "I just thought maybe we'd gotten off on the wrong foot and we could start again." She had been happy, too, coming alive in her growing rapport with Finn. A rapport that she hoped was uncommon – or was it, with what Santana had implied? Was it just that she was new?
"Starting again with Santana just means giving her another chance to stick the knife in," Finn commented, rounding the table to sit down next to her.
"I can see that," she muttered, frowning, still taken aback by how easily her increased confidence had been shattered by the Latina cheerleader. She looked up, her face accusing. "Anyway, don't ask me 'what was that', what was that yourself? What did she mean by that?"
"'Sasquatch'?" Finn asked rhetorically, deflecting. "I don't know, it's not like I'm particularly hairy or anything. Not, uh, that she'd know. Unless the guys on the team told her or something."
"Not even 'especially'?" But Rachel breathed deeply, calming down. She didn't want to let her awful roommate damage the one good thing she'd found. "She's just trying to start trouble, I suppose. Probably hates that I have any friends at all."
"Well let's not let her start any more trouble," Finn suggested, and Rachel agreed. So they left the dining hall and walked companionably together over to Fawcett, Rachel managing to forget about Santana's meanness as she basked in Finn's attention.
She wasn't surprised, however, when that night Santana showed up at two in the morning with yet another loser in tow. Rachel simply gave the pair of them a smile, grabbed her things, and settled down in the lounge for the night. It even seemed to be getting more comfortable, and her sleep was less fitful.
The coffee she awoke to the next morning, presented with Finn's warm smile, made her interrupted night almost worth it.
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